#so now i’m just obsessed with drinking nice clean water | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

8myass · 3 months

Note

OH MY GOD HIIII ur blog looks supa cool it’s so nice to meet u lele 😁😁

can i be 🧺 anon and request haechan hate sex 🥴🥴🥴 god i’m obsessed w that man

hi hi! thank you so much! of course, you can be 🧺 anon! thank you for making the first-ever request on my page. it was super fun to write this! i, too, am very obsessed with this man, he's genuinely too fine. i hope you enjoy it!! pairing. lee donghyuck/haechan x female reader genre. angst, smut (w plot) pov. second person (you, yours, yourself, etc.) wc. 1.6k cw. enemy!haechan, slight bimbo!reader, mean dom!hae, bratty sub!reader tw. alcohol consumption, mentions infidelity and breakup, slight dubcon aspects (bc of the wording, it seems very noncon at first), cursing, mentions blood, name calling (‘bitch’, ‘whore’, ‘toy’), face-fucking, deepthroating, degradation, slight praise (typically only ever mixed with degradation), hate sex (obvi), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap your meat fellas), ass slapping, pet names (‘babe’, ‘baby’), hair pulling, breeding, haechan’s just mean idk??

“Can you at least pretend to love me? Just for tonight?” Haechan frowned, his vision blurred from an extensive amount of alcohol, hung over your shoulder as you dragged him to your car, somehow being left with the responsibility of taking him home after he was found passed out on your friend’s couch. Your friend claimed she had to clean the party that wiped through her house like a hurricane but fell asleep in the bathroom by the toilet, droplets of vomit littering the toilet seat, and more chunks in the bowl.

You rolled your eyes, popping open the door of the passenger’s side to your vehicle, “You’re fucking ridiculous.” Throwing him in the car, you shut the door and dragged your feet to the driver’s side door, sitting down to instantly start the engine up. He didn’t buckle up, slouching down in the seat, eyes dazed. You looked over at him and sighed, shaking your head, “What happened to you, man? Why’d you drink so much?”

“My girl cheated on me,” he laughed, the amusement in his tone holding the deepest pain you remember hearing your entire life. “We’re not together anymore.”

You didn’t know how to reply, never feeling so much sympathy for someone who you despised so incredibly. “Do you miss her?”

“How could I not? She was my world all through high school, no one else meant as much to me as she did,” he exhaled deeply, his voice cracking, sounding like he was on the verge of tears.

You sat in silence for a couple of minutes, the drive becoming awkward in the quietness. You still didn’t know what to say, unable to comprehend whether he wanted to find comfort in you at such an awful time.

“It’s right here,” he pointed out the window as you pulled up his street, stepping on the brakes as soon as you heard his words.

“This place?” you scoffed, looking at him with your typical disgusted expression, accidentally forgetting the deep emotional conversation you two just had. The place was old, moss growing up the sides of the former white-painted house that had now turned brown due to being behind on cleaning. The windows were clouded, blinds pale and stained, the wood of the door cracked. “It’s a dump.”

He sighed lowly, getting out of the car with a quick shove, turning on his heels to look at you, “Can you come in?”

“You want me to come into your house?” you raised an eyebrow, but something told you to accept his offer, “Fine, just until you sober up.”

You unbuckled and followed him into his garbage site that he claimed was his house, watching him chug water bottle after water bottle sitting at the small, two-person table across from him.

“Don’t choke, I might laugh,” you chuckled as he continued to gulp down the remaining water in the bottle, eyes narrowing while looking at you.

“You’re annoying,” he huffed, slamming the bottle down on the table.

“Yeah, not the first time you’ve told me that,” you snorted, “Are you sobered up yet? Can I go now, Mr. I-need-you-to-come-help-make-sure-I-don’t-choke-on-my-own-vomit?”

“Screw you,” he groaned, standing up and throwing away the plastic bottle into the green recycling bin next to his dirtied fridge. You stood up as well, hurrying toward the door, taking that as a ‘get the hell out, bitch’. Typically, that’d be what that meant, you weren’t wrong for thinking that.

“Where are you going?” you heard his voice right next to your ear as your body was pressed against the door before your hand could reach the doorknob.

“I’m leaving, you’re sober now,” you squirmed in his grip, his thumbs pressed to the back of your hips to hold your body against the chilled wood. “Don’t touch me, let go of me.”

“Why would I do that? I’m finally available, I can finally touch you how I please,” he hummed, one finger tracing down your spine, his opposing hand slipping up your skin-tight dress, pressing his palm against the delicate skin of your inner thigh.

“Don’t touch me,” you growled, squirming more aggressively in his grasp. “You’re disgusting, I hate you. Let me go before I kick your dick in.”

“God, you’re so fucking annoying,” he managed to flip your fussy form around so he could look into your pleading eyes. In an instant, you were on your knees, cock down your throat, gagging you to the point of tears pouring down your cheeks, slobber coating your chin as his balls smacked the remnants of your filth off your face and down onto your thighs.

“Fuck, bitch, that’s so good,” he moaned, smirk popping onto his face as his head fell back. Your tongue looped around his cock as he repeatedly fucked your face, your nails digging into the skin of his thighs so tightly that it nearly drew blood. His fingers were laced through your hair, keeping your head in place as he thrusts himself into your mouth. He scrunched his nose up a few times as he felt your teeth brush against his dick, “A little less teeth, okay?”

“What’s the matter? Don’t act like you haven’t done this before, I’m sure you’ve had a cock down your throat every night since we last saw each other,” he scoffed, looking down at the way your eyes gazed at him with a gentle glint in them. You had only just seen him a few days ago, but you have been with a man every night since then. It was a good time killer, how could you not let some random guy fuck the daylights outta you just for funsies? “You never had something so big down your throat, is that the problem?”

You gagged in response to his question, drool pooling out around the seams of your mouth. His cock was coated in your sticky saliva by now, his tip reaching down your throat, precum leaking out around it.

“You sound so much better gagging on my dick,” he chuckled, forcing himself entirely into your mouth until your nose was pressed against his pelvis, choking on the cum pouring out of his tip as trails of moans came out of his hung open mouth. “Yeah, that’s so fucking good, babe.”

After pulling out of your weak mouth, you didn’t have much time to bitch at him before you were bent over the table, dress forced up and panties ripped off, already rehardened cock slipped inside your dripping cunt.

“So wet? Is this for me?” he muttered against the skin of your neck, moans spilling from your parted lips, throat way too sore to reach the volumes you currently were. “Did you like sucking my cock? How about this? Do you like this, hm?”

You frantically nodded as you felt his hands slide up your dress to roughly play with your boobs, thumbs circling over your sensitive nipples, “Ye-yeah, feels good.”

“Fuck, you’re such a whore, you know that?” he growled, smacking your ass after pulling his hand from your boob, the other one still lingering. “Gonna let me fuck you like this after just claiming you hate me?”

“I do hate you,” you scoffed, trying to sound strong, but your voice came out more unstable than you had originally planned. You did hate him, you just might not have hated this moment. The sex was good, I mean, how could you say no?

“I hate you too, don’t worry,” he snarled, grabbing a fistful of your hair to pull your head toward him, your back pressed against his chest. “I’m using you, baby. Only to pass the time, only to get her off my mind. You are simply a toy, that’s all.”

“You think she’s ever gonna come back?” you mocked, head slightly turning so your eyes could meet his, which had soon turned into a glare directed at you, “I can’t be a placeholder for someone who’s not coming back.”

“Shut the fuck up, toy,” he growled, upper lip twitching as he pushed you back down onto the table, pressing his palm to the center of your back to hold you there as the other gripped your hip tightly, his thrusts becoming harder yet sloppier.

He was beyond enraged by your comments, and the movements of his own hips against your poor body really showed that. You were a whimpering and crying mess as soon as he became angry with you, almost making you want to sob out an apology, but you wouldn’t degrade yourself so much as to actually apologize to him, it’s bad enough you were letting him fuck you.

“I think you’re gonna make a good cumdump from now on,” he moaned loudly, his moans echoing throughout the rest of the kitchen. “I’ll use you however I please.”

“Scr-screw y-you,” you whined, continuing to be a little bitch to him, not realizing where it gets you.

He groaned as he continued thrusting himself into you, head falling back as he smacked your ass again at your words. You squealed and dipped your head down against the table, burying your forehead into your arms. Your bodies colliding rocked the entire table, the sound of its creaking spread through the room.

Soon enough, he had let loose strands of cum inside you, feeling his hot liquid fill your insides as loud moans flew out of his mouth, desperate and frantic cries falling out of you, your release also shaking your body, cum seeping out around his cock.

“Shit, maybe we should do this more often,” he’d say only as he’s rebuttoning his pants and you’re fixing your dress, wiping your mouth of the drool that poured out of the corners of your lips, patting away the dried tears coating your flushed cheeks.

“Yeah, whatever,” you rolled your eyes and stormed out of his house, ‘hoping’ you’d never see him again, but knowing damn well you’d cave and show up to his place the following night, all for a round two…

137 notes · View notes

devil-on-acid · 1 year

Text

The Heart of Eywa Chapter 1: First Connection

Genre: Thriller/Isekai/Fantasy/Sci-fi

No Pairings yet

Word count: 3396

Pilot

Sypnosis: a Regular teenager get transported to the world of her obsession in her dreams, but upon arriving there she never could have thought the possibility of it being real and not just in her head. She could never have anticipated what she would feel and discover. why was she here ?

A/n: here i am finally with the official chapter 1. Sorry that it took so long since i posted the pilot. I need to mention i am a fulltime art student so i’m usually busy or too exhausted. When i write i try to make each chapter as vivid as possible so i really have to take my time to use the right words and to decide the pace of the chapter. I really wanna post a high quality story. Once again English is not my first language so my vocabulary is still improving. Let me know you thoughts and any ideas in the comments. I would love to hear them (same goes for feedback) for now i hope you enjoy this first chapter. 😊

ps. if you wanna be tagged for upcoming chapters let me know in the comments ^^

(y/n) Pov

Previously

Meanwhile the girl was still drifting, unaware that she was being watched. Shock settling into her body as she was still accepting and processing what happend to her. All that matters now is staying alive long enough to find the only people she might know, the Omaticaya.

It took me only 10 min before i could hear the sounds better, the river water drifting down stone. I sped up my pace now. And soon i reached the river. The water was so clean i could see right through it to the bioluminescent water plants at the bottom. I hastly scooped up water to drink from, the thirst coming back to me now. putting some water on my face i feel a lot less faint but i was still getting tired. Shutting my eyes for a second to blink properly i look at my surroundings again. The small river has a stone wall where the water came from like a small waterfall. Insects are even louder in this area. Always hearing a nice buzzing of some sort of cricked, and occasionally birds. All around me the bioluminescence was bright. Lighting up the entire river area. I started to wonder towards everything. I mostly have questions that i don’t know who to ask. ‘’why am i here ?’’

‘’how am i here ?’’

I didn’t know what to do or if i even have to do anything. The only chance of survival i have is finding a clan, but Omaticaya is the only clan where i know i might talk my way out of getting killed. Watching so many fantasy and action movies can teach you some skills in speaking differently then you do. I can only speak a few words na’vi and that wasn’t enough. Speaking English is the only option. Na’vi are extremely bright, they learn English faster then someone can teach them.

It might be my only option to avoid getting killed by them. They are fiercely protective and loyal to eachother, they don’t trust easily. Especially after what the Sky People did to them and their world. Whether that is still in motion or already passed is another thing i wondered and remember it for the next time i might figure it out.

I decided i am too tired to move right now. But i can’t stay here for too long. ‘’i guess i can just take a little nap right ?’’ i thought to myself. A little away from the water in the shadow of some plants i lay down on the soft moss and close my eyes. Focusing on the sounds around me. I was laying comfortably on the ground on my back. Like the feeling of coming home and dropping into your bed after a long day of work. The backache from stress lessening and disappearing every minute. My thoughts are blank, which surprised me. Most people would be having racing thoughts. Especially about home, in my situation in particular. Do my parents know i’m gone ? or has nothing changed while i’m here ? is there still a possibility this is all a deep comatose sleep ?. I do have these thoughts, but they don’t bother me. It feels like time has stopped moving both here and back home.

After what felt like an hour or longer of laying there, unable to fully fall asleep i decide to move forward. Looking around me to make sure i’m in the clear i slowly let myself sit upright. I feel dizzy. In a way it feels like i’m under the influence of something. Standing up i almost have to sit back down but keep myself grounded looking for anything to hold onto. Getting lightheaded while standing up is not going to help me right now. Walking along following the river i the area cleared a bit with less plants to avoid. The soft moss underground all i felt that ripples with light every step i made. The noises in my ears started to become stronger. it felt like i could hear the noises like ripples in my body, as if music was in the back of my head. I can hear people talking in an undetectable language, children laughing, people singing. it was keeping me on edge. But also grounded to the earth.

After only minutes of walking i felt hopeless already. I was so dizzy my head started to spin, looking at my feet and the ground and taking a deep breath i hope for the spinning to fade away. after looking at the ground for a minute i looked back up and almost stepped back. Right in front of my face was an atokirina. It’s light movements like a small jellyfish or a dandelion seed in the wind. A faint light comes from it as it moves over my shoulder and gets close to my hair. Mesmerished i keep my eyes on it. it didn’t move from my shoulder. Looking up into the sky i was hyptonized by what i saw. Hundreds of atokirina are floating down from the top of the forest . atokirina are signs for the na’vi. A pure spirit to give them a message or quide their path.

I was paralyzed in my movement, i didn’t dare take another step. Reaching out the atokirina softly floated down to cover my hands and arms. More of them placing themselves on my chest and my head, softly tickling my skin. I look behind me to the other sprites floating behind me. They connected to my shoulder and my back mimicking a cape in the motion of a wave. The sounds i hear become stronger and stronger. the voices overwhelm my senses. The sounds of nature mixing and harmonizing with them. My sight was starting to become blurry. I try to blink to focus but it didn’t help, it only made it worse. My mind keeps spinning and spinning. I can’t stand without having to balance my weight. i feel so tired i stopped fighting and let it overwhelm me. In less then a second i can feel my eyes roll back into my head and falling back to the ground. But before i feel the impact everything goes black.

Third POV

This could mean only one thing, a sky demon invading into their land. No matter how outnumbered the demon was it was still a cause of concern in the mind of the na’vi hunter. As quiet as he could go he ran to his ikran in a hurry, making Tsaheylu and flying back to the village. He knew where the sky demon was headed and he wasn’t far from the village, if he was fast enough he could warn the other warriors and the Olo'eyktan about this and they would be back before she drifted to far from this part of the forest.

The Hunter was able to reach the village in a mere 10 minutes of flying. Landing his Ikran upon the branches of a tree, many more trees around it connected by long green vines serving as a pathway between the tents and little homes build around him. As he got off his ikran he could hear the gentle singing of people and drums playing music a little down below, where many of the omaticaya where eating communally around a big bonfire. Climbing down from the tree to one of the lower and larger tents he looks for his fellow hunters and the Olo'eyktan. People greet him and he greets them back without betraying the the urge and panic he feels. As he approached the leader he crouches down next to him greeting him formally.

“oel ngati kameie Jake Sully. I need a word with the Olo'eyktan, it’s urgent.’’

Jakes eyes widened in alarm for a split second before composing his face. It wasn’t often one of the hunters or clan people had an emergency or something urgent to tell him. After spending years with his people as their clan leader he learned about their behaviour and was better able to read their emotions and was able to make opinions about the situations going on around them. The look on the hunters face gives jake a sense of worry. Which didn’t happen often.

the na’vi was feeling a mixture of shock, fear and anger under the surface of a calm face. But Jake could see right through him, he knew better. His body language was stiff and panicked. Jake conteplated what had the hunter in such a state and he needed to know more immidiatly. Jake stood up passing one look to his mate who sat a little further away with the tsahik.

‘’come with me’’ he said as he walked a little further tot he side of the large tent so they could speak in whispers.

‘’speak calmly, what is wrong ? the look on your face troubles me’’

‘’while out hunting i saw something that shouldn’t be possible. I saw a dreamwalker, a sky demon’’

Jake was immidiatly alarmed. the skypeople are back ? since when. How can this have happend without his knowledge.

‘’a dreamwalker ?, are you sure about this. Did you recognise the avatar ? are you sure it wasn’t one of the scientists ?’’

‘’she’s not familair to us, we don’t have any children avatars from the humans.’’

‘’She ?, it was a girl ?’’

‘’yes Olo'eyktan, a young girl, a mere child.’’

Jake was confused by all means the scientists have no one except for Spider when it came to children, and no other than Norm and a few others had their own avatar. But they are all adults. Unless the RDA succeeded in making a young/child avatar.

A different scenario : this is a young girl from another tribe who is completely lost. But that would be an unlikely thing. He also trusted in the hunters and the other Na’vi. They can immidiatly tell who is and who is and who isn’t a sky person, even if you took the physical aspect of the avatar away. The 5 winger and eyebrows, they can always tell. It was something Jake as a former avatar wasn’t able to sense.

Then there was the worts scenario : The skypeople have returned to Pandora, How is the question. If any spaceship comes in Pandora’s orbit they would’ve seen it sooner, they would’ve seen a new star in the night.

‘’Have you told this to anyone else ?’’ Jake asked.

‘’No, Sir’’

Gather a group of hunters, bring them together at the totem. Do so quickly and calmly. I don’t anyone question what is happening.

With that he sent the hunter on his way to gather the others. Meanwhile he walked back to his mate who was currently giving out food to their children and feeding their 2 year old baby. As he came closer his children as wel as his mate looked at him expectantly, turning towards him or looking up at him. As Jake stood before them he crouched down to properly speak to her and silently observe then infant she cradles in her arms.

‘’Ma Jake ?’’ is all Neytiri needed to ask. She knew the look on her mates/husbands face, she could tell he was holding back from telling her something. The worry and confusion starting to become visible on her face.

‘’Ma Jake, what is happening ?’’

‘’Me and a group of hunters are gonna gather at the Totem, i need you there.’’

‘’is there something wrong dad ?’’ his 13 year old Daughter asks. Kiri was looking at her father with wide curious looking eyes. Usually he would expect this question from Lo’ak, but this time it came from Kiri.

‘’No there is nothing wrong babygirl, can you and Neteyam take care of your siblings and go to Grandmother. Me and your mother have something to discuss.

Rectuantly the children all gathered and stood up, taking their food with them to finish with the tsahik. Lo’ak turned before walking with them conteplating to ask his father questions, but the look Jake gave him told him no in an instant. This was absolutely no good time. So he stays quiet and goes with his siblings, Neytiri still holding small Tuk stands straight and determinded, Like a proud mother ready to protect as she looks back at him.

‘’twawne, what is happening ?’’

Jake looks back to her trying to calm his expression for what he was about to tell her.

‘’they, the hunters, saw a dreamwalker, not one of our own.’’

Neytiri looks at Jake with shock written on her face. From all the things she was expecting him to tell this was not one of them. But her shock from this knowledgequickly turned into frustration and anger.

‘’what are they ? is it the skypeople ? are they back ?’’ ‘’they never should have dared to return’’

Before she could say more Jake cuts her of without angering her more.

‘’We don’t know who they are or how they came here. Appareantly they are alone, but we don’t know if more are out there. A hunting party and me will go out to track her, they we’re spotted not far from here’’

Neytiri looks Jake in thee yes with determination, her voice not wavering or stuttering for even a second.

‘’I am coming with, i need to see this demon for myself’’

‘’Neytiri, this could be a trap, we don’t kniow how many there are or what they have, we need to be carefull about this’’

Neytiri didn’t back down ‘’i am coming, you can’t convince me otherwise. We’ll track the demonand stop them from coming here. Especially this close tot he village.’’

Jake recuantly agrees, Neytiri is a fierce warrior. Nothing will stand in her way or hold her back. She can handle herself.

‘’okay, but i have to tell the people over at the lab and warn them, or at least Norm and Max.’’

‘’you want to involve the humans again ? they’ll only be in our way.’’

‘’no they won’t, i make sure of that. They can help us. We just need to warn them for any possible outcome. I’m gonna as kif they might have a theory or have picked something up at the lab. See if they may have a clue on how they’ve gotten here.’’

With that Jake hoped Neytiri would agree with his choices, her and Jake never always saw eye to eye with some things involving leading the tribe. But whatever happens they still trusted eachother. Mo’at still being the Tsahik often agreed with Jake.

‘’i’ll inform the Tsahik, Go and prepare. I want this over with quickly’’

with that she walked away towards the Tsahiks tent to drop of Tuktirey for bed and inform het mother of the situation. Hoping everone who will come with the hunters remains uninjured.’’

Jake went tot he Totem to inform the warriors/hunters of the planand prepare. This needed to be done carefully and silently. They’ll track down and observe the dreamwalkerand see if she has any contact with anyone outside the forest. Adrenaline shot trough his body prepared for anything that could happen.

-----

‘’Norm, Norm do you read me ?’’

The radio comes to life with it’s spheric static noises. A few seconds went by before the radio picked up a reply.

‘’Jake, i’m here i read you. Is everything alright ? you hardly ever use the radio, what’s going on?’’

Norm, i need you and maybe max or someone else to check anything you can off the satelites still working. See if something came into Pandora’s orbit. Or try to see if you pick up any signals unfamilair to us. Anything like a habsite or a ship.’’

‘’Whoah, whoah, slow down. You want us to look for any unusual activity ? what for. Did you find something?’’

‘’Or someone’’ Said Jake. The radio went silent for a second, the words he said came out quick and without thinking.

On the other end of the radio Norm sat in the lab at the remains of Hells gate. He was still awake in his human form to look at samples he picked up earlier in the day. Now listening to what Jake called him for. It wasn’t unusual to hear the radio every once in a while come to life. Wheter it be random static noises or Jake calling in to check up on everyone if he was too busy to stop by. And he usually was. What was unusual is for hi mto call upon them this late at night.

‘’wait Jake i couldn’t hear you, can you repeat that.”

‘’i said…..i said we didn’t find something we found someone. we found a dreamwalker, potentionally.’’

‘’wait, there is a avatar out there, are you sure?’’

‘’well i wasn’t the one that found it, or sa wit. One of the hunters did.’’

Jake had to start thinking of a plan, what if there really was an avatar walking in the forest right now. What do they do ? kill them on site?. There should be another way, he still needed answers. And now whether he had to or not the scientists would be involved.

Norm was silently having a whirlwind of thoughts running trough his brain.

‘’Norm you still with me’’ Jake asked

‘’sorry, yes i hear you, i was…thinking for a second’’

‘’Norm. Can you only inform max and whoever needs to know about this. I don’t wanna cause unnecessary panic if it is a false alarm. A hunting part is going to follow this ‘someone’ they found, i’m going with them. But i need a favor’’

‘’thats the first time you ever asked for a favor, but yeah how can i help?’’ Norm questioned, he had a theary what Jake was up to but he would let him do the talking for now. Still too preocupied with his thoughts to start arguing with someone’’

‘’if there is an dreamwalker alone, i need to get them to Hells gate. We can keep them there, we can’t let them know where the village is’’

‘’then why do you want them here ? they’ll know where we are, what the thinking ?’’ Norm said as he contignues

‘’I don’t think the’ll be much better of here’’

‘’no they are. We need to keep them isolated to confuse them, not knowing where they are is the best option to pin them down.’’ Jake trows back

‘’Well, you’ll need to get them to a holding cell further inside the buildings we don’t use. But how do you even wanna get them here.’’

‘’the hard way i figured’’

‘’Jake, don’t do something unnecessarily stupid’’

‘’Can’t promise anything at this point’’

‘’Okay i’ll inform Max and the others’’

‘’Thank you Norm’’

Jake then ended the radio call. He needed to get the other hunters ready to depart. They couldn’t wait another second.

i can’t see, i can’t hear. All i see is blackness. No colors or images and no dreams. The lack of sound was giving a tingling sensation in my head. Occasionally i could hear a peep on one side of my head and it fades few seconds after. I don’t know where i am, or what is going on.

I turn and turn in the hopes of seeing anythng in the distance but the blackness was messing with my sense of direction. A cold wind comes from behind me and my first instinct is to wrap my arms around me and sit down, curling myself up shielding my body from the cold. turning to look where the wind came from it starts to get warmer. when i face behind me a bright light blinds me from under me. glowing gold and orange like the sun and warming my body. As i try to open my eyes my sight is still completely blinded. It felt like i couldn’t choose between waking up or staying asleep.

I can faintly start to feel the sensations of my body again. A pressure or support under my knees and spine, my head falls back too tired to support my neck. As i faintly hear some voices around me all the sounds completely stop again giving back the tingling sensation in my head. And the loop starts all over again. Trying to see, hear and feel.

Tag list: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @lovelyygirl8 @ambria @lainekyuu @meobvii

57 notes · View notes

karigan117 · 3 months

Text

Rutger McGroarty

This is my first Fan fiction, so please don’t make fun of me 🙏😄

Contains: fluff, kind of an awkward reader, suggesting sex, and a cute Rutger!

1.2k words.

You meet Rutger at a hockey game in your home town and things… escalate.

The college you were going to next year’s hockey season was coming to an end, and they were playing your favorite hockey team. Umich Wolverines. You and your best friend were recently obsessed with Rutger Mcgroarty and Ethan Edwards, so when you two heard the news; you knew you had to go.

The both of you couldn’t wait until the game and finally the day had come. Now it’s 2 am, and you and your best friend are sitting in the bleachers, dressed head to toe in Michigan colors, waiting for your boys to come out on the ice for the last period. There were 10 minutes left until period 3, and you really had to go to the bathroom. Your best friend didn’t have to go, so you said you’d meet her when you came back.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you”.

“I’ll be fine. We can’t lose our spot.”

She nodded her head, and you hurried off the bleachers and went down the stairs to where the bathrooms were. This was the rink you had come to to ice skate for fun on weekends and also the part of the rink where the team would come in and exit out of. You went to the bathroom and then made your way to the concession stand to get some hot chocolate. Why not?

You rested your head on your arm and looked around while you waited for your drink, when you spotted a boy coming out of the bathroom. Holy shit. It wasn’t just any boy. It was Rutger Mcgroarty.

You turned around, putting your hand over your mouth trying to keep composure, but you definitely weren’t — and he noticed.

The concession man handed you your coffee, and you grabbed it, but your hands were shaking so hard that you dropped it. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry.” Your face went red in embarrassment. You grabbed paper towels from the dispenser sitting in the left corner and started to clean up the spill.

“That’s probably my fault”, a man beside you said laughing. You looked up and saw the familiar sweaty face and brown hair. Your mouth dropped.

“One more hot chocolate for… her”, he said turning towards you, “and a water for me”.

“H-hi”, you spit out nervously. “Hello.” He grabbed some more paper towels and cleaned up the rest of the hot chocolate. “Thank you.”

“No problem. What’s your name?”

“Y/n.”

“That’s a really pretty name. Nice to meet you y/n.”

“Very nice to meet you too”, you said a little too excitedly.

He laughed. The man handed you your hot chocolate again and gave Rutger his water.

“That’ll be $5”, the man said. Rutger took out some money from his pocket, which you didn’t even know he had (he was wearing his hockey jersey and shorts) and handed the man the money.

“Thanks”, you said sympathetically.

“Of course.”

He opened his mouth, looking hesitant and then he said, “Would you want to come see the locker room. We have free jerseys we’re handing out. I could give you one.”

“Ummm yea! I would love to.”

“Okay”, he smiled looking excited. He walked down the hallway by the bathroom and opened a door to the locker room. No one was in there, except for you two, and that made you nervous.

Rutger walked to a table and grabbed one of the jerseys handing it to you.

“Could I get one for my friend too?”, you said looking at him with hopeful eyes. He couldn’t reject you when you looked like that.

“Oh yea, of course”, he said half grinning; that grin you wanted to kiss right now. He turned around, took another one off the table and handed it to you.

“Could you sign them? Please.” He laughed at your requests and went to go find a marker. When he found one he came back up to you and signed both of them. You smiled down at them, bubbling with excitement — and when you looked back at him, he had that same smile plastered across his face looking at you. At you.

“Why don’t you put it on?”, he said hesitantly.

“Right now? Like right now in front of… you”.

“Yea”, he eyed you up and down.

“Okay…”.

You decided to just put it over your sweatshirt — but then you didn’t like the way it felt. It was too hot. So you took off the jersey and you decided to be risky.

You took off your shirt, showing your bra and slipped the jersey back on. Rutger’s mouth was open, and when he noticed you were looking at him, he closed it shut. He cleared his throat.

“It looks good on you”, he said before smiling. You blushed.

“I’m gonna be honest, I came over to you because I thought you were pretty.”

“Me? You thought I was pretty?”

“Yea. Why? Is that hard to believe?”

“I guess so. I mean you’re my celebrity crush.”

He laughed at that. “I wouldn’t say celebrity, but thank you.” You internally rolled your eyes. Humble boy.

“Well you’re a well known hockey player and so many girls want you… so yea, it’s hard to believe.”

He started getting closer to you. Your breathing hitched. What time is it? “Well you better believe it”, he whispered. Shouldn’t he be playing again by now? He rested his hand on your face. Your friend was definitely wondering where you were. But as soon as his lips touched yours, you didn’t care… about any of it. All you cared about was Rutger and where his lips were and what his hands were doing and about twenty minutes later (you definitely didn’t know), the both of you left the locker room, cheeks red, hair messy, and stumbling to where you needed to be.

You climbed back over to your seat by your friend and handed her her New Jersey. “Look what I got us!”

Her mouth dropped.

“Where did you get these?!”

“I’ll tell you later”.

“Where the fuck were you though? Did you have to shit or something? The game is almost over. Also I couldn’t see Rutger anywhere, so I don’t know where he is.”

A few seconds later she spotted him and then turned and looked at you. She examined the pink in your cheeks and the state of your hair, and you saw the sparkle in her eyes when she put two and two together.

Her eyes widened. “Oh my god! What did you do?”

You started smiling and her mouth dropped. “Wait, oh my god!”

“Did you hook up with Rutger Mcgroarty?”, she whispered, barely believing these words were coming out of her mouth.

You started smiling again. “Yes!!” You started jumping up and down, you couldn’t contain your excitement. She jumped with you.

You looked down at the ice. There were 5 seconds left, and right before the buzzer sounded… Michigan scored a point, winning the game, and it was made by number two.

Everyone screamed and you hugged your friend, overwhelmed by everything that just happened tonight.

#rutger mcgroarty #ethan edwards #umich hockey #hockey

11 notes · View notes

thisgirlnamedblusy · 11 months

Note

Hiii :))))) can I request a Laurel Gates x vampire!teacher!reader where reader teaches music at Nevermore and she’s dating Marilyn (she doesn’t know that Marilyn is also Laurel Gates) and also writes songs from time to time and she and Laurel are just chilling at the conservatory while Laurel waters her plants and reader is singing but she’s singing the song she wrote about her ex a long time ago.

preferably “A Concert Six Months From Now” by FINNEAS and pls include the part where it goes, “I’ll wait for years but I won’t wait alone and then someday you’ll wait for my face on your phone and I’ll call and I’ll say I think you should come home. Cause I’m tired of being your ex.” And Laurel gets mad cuz she knows the song wasn’t about her and she confronts reader abour why she was singing that song to her. And the whole thing leads to a fight cuz of her jealousy and possessiveness.

Time skip to where Laurel was spilling her plan to Tyler about the whole Wednesday thing, she kind of vents a little about reader and their fight and how it annoyed her. And on the same night, reader was out in the forest to clear her mind when she suddenly gets attacked by Tyler and gets claw marks on her neck.

The next day, she wears a turtleneck and avoids Laurel but the redhead manages to get her alone and tells the reader how sorry she was for lashing out the other night. Reader forgives her and reassures her and Laurel sees the marks and asks about it. Reader tells her what happened and Laurel offered to clean and bandage the wound and also tells reader to sleep in her room for the night. She agrees.

Reader wakes up sometime around midnight and sees an empty space on the bed, she looks for Laurel around the school and finds her at the conservatory while Laurel was scolding Tyler cuz of the mark and him attacking reader that night, saying that she should’ve poisoned Tyler with the nightshade for even doing it to her lover. And reader heard everything.

When Laurel sends Tyler away, Reader confronts Laurel about it and they fight again, regarding Laurel’s real identity, the whole jealousy and possessiveness problem, the nightshade poisoning. But pls let the argument end with reader saying that “You didn’t kill me, yes. But if you wanted to, you would’ve.”

Make the ending bittersweet with them making up and being okay again, but because of the reason that Laurel figured out a plant-based love potion that she used to spike reader’s drink with and this made reader obsessed and down-right in love with her. Therefore making everything okay.

I just thought this plot was awesome. I hope you like it! h thank you so much!

Yesss!!! It is an awesome plot!!! I hope I wrote it the way it deserves!!! I hope you like it, and sorry about the language mistakes!!

Sing to me a love and hate song

Pairing: Marilyn Thornhill/ Laurel Gates x Fem, teacher, vampire! Reader

Warnings: Dark themes, jealousy

Word count: 5, 100

Summary: Your girlfriend is jealous, and you hate this, but soon you will realize that this is not the worst of her…

N/A: Requests are open!! Sorry about the delays :( I love you all!!!

You were walking around the academy like you used to. Being a music teacher at Nevermore was the best decision you had made in years, in many years. You were a student there in your distant days as a teenage vampire, and coming back was a more than a satisfying experience. Everything at school was the same as when you left, except that the faces were different.

Surprisingly, Larissa, the principal, was much more open-minded about the normie-outcast relationship. She even hired a normie as a botany teacher. Marilyn Thornhill was a shy woman, but kind and nice. You noticed her as soon as you met her. You had waited a long time to meet someone who made you feel this way.

One day you decided to take a step forward and try to get closer to her. Unexpectedly it worked, and she gladly agreed to have dinner with you. That was the beginning of an intense, passionate but romantic relationship. You were convinced that you had found the love of your life, and apparently, she thought the same way.

Your walk did not take you anywhere, but to the conservatory, where your girlfriend spent her afternoons quietly. She was sociable, but the rest of your classmates didn't seem to want to associate with her very much. It seems that prejudices are not just a matter of normies.

"Hooola," you said, peeking out the door. The redhead saw you and immediately approached you and gave you a tender kiss on the lips, as if she hadn't seen you in a long time.

“Are you coming to stay with me?” She asked you while she played with your hair. You smiled in amusement and brushed her hair away from her neck.

“No, I've come to bite your precious neck,” you said jokingly, pretending that you were biting her, without hurting her, of course. You had your instincts pretty much under control, it was hard, but you managed to keep them away.

She laughed in amusement, giggling at the tickling you were doing to her.

“I'll have to wear a garlic necklace,” she told you, passing her hands around your neck.

“Mmm, You rather not,” you said, kissing her meanwhile disorderly. “I've come to see you. I have to write a couple of songs, and you always inspire me,” you said romantically. She turned away and returned to her table.

“You always work so hard…” She sighed.

You shrugged, taking out a notebook and a pen, and sitting down at a nearby desk.

“I like my job,” you said, winking at her.

“Okay,” she said, drawling her words. “I was going to water the plants. If you want, we could take a walk later, it looks like this sunset is going to be beautiful.”

“Great, I agree,” you said, starting to think of some new lyrics for a song.

The place was silent, with the relaxed atmosphere that always reigned there when you were together. You looked at your notebook, quietly turning the pages, looking for something to write about. On one of the first pages, you had written a song that you never finished, but that you remembered perfectly.

“Mmmm, mmm,” you began to hum, looking at your notes. Your voice was from another world and you immediately caught Marilyn's attention, who loved hearing you sing, usually love songs to her.

“I'll go hungry and crazy and honest for you… I don't always get angry but I'm promisin' to… If it's all that you want then it's all that I can do…” You sang softly, with your best tone voice.

She watched you as she watered the plants, with a smile that showed that she was listening intently. You would stop from time to time to make changes on your notebook, and then you would continue singing.

“I'll wait for years, but I won't wait alone… And then someday you'll wait for my face on your phone… And I'll call and I'll say, "I think you should come home…' Cause I'm tired of being your ex…” You kept singing. Marilyn stopped and thought.

“Oh, yes that's really cool…” You said to yourself, writing down those last sentences on your notebook.

“What does that mean?” The redhead asked, with a questioning expression.

“Do you like it? I wrote it years ago but I never finished it,” you said, with an innocent smile. She shook her head.

“No, I don't like it, (Y/N),” she said seriously. You raised your head and your eyebrows.

“Why?” You asked, checking your notes, in case there was something wrong.

“Who was that song for?” She asked, clearly upset about something.

You frowned at her, but soon your expression relaxed, dismissing it.

“Well…” You started timidly. “Actually I composed it for my ex.” Marilyn's eyes widened.

“For your ex…” She murmured. “You mean that bitch who stood you up when you were going to ask her to marry you?” Hate and jealousy were palpable in her words. You didn't used to hear her talk like that, although you did know that she was a bit jealous.

“Okay, yes. But it's just a song,” you said, leaving your notebook aside. “It's a pretty song, or so I think.”

“Let's see if I understand it. Are you here with me, with your girlfriend, singing a song you wrote for your ex?” She asked you ironically, approaching you with dark eyes.

“Hey, relax, I already told you that it's just a song,” you said, putting your arms in front, as a sign of peace.

“It's not just a song, (Y/N). These last few months you have been singing beautiful songs that you said you dedicated to me. And now suddenly you sing to your ex,” she told you with spite in her voice.

You couldn't help but laugh at that absurd accusation. For you music was just music.

“What a nonsense, Marilyn. Don't take it so seriously, it's just a song I wrote years ago. It is not dedicated to anyone,” you said, trying to grab her waist. She pushed your hands away and you knew she was really mad.

“Don't touch me,” she hissed.

Your face immediately changed to one of surprise and you sighed, crossing your arms.

“But, what is wrong with you now? You can't get like that because I sang a song,” you complained, leaning on a desk.

She sighed in disbelief, as if you had said something stupid.

“I thought that a relationship meant something to you,” she said, offended. You shook your head and tried to maintain your composure.

“Please, enlighten me,” you said, raising your tone too.

“If you're my girlfriend, you're my girlfriend,” she said, getting dangerously close and grabbing your chin hard. “You are only mine,” she hissed.

You moved to get away from her grasp.

“I'm not yours, Marilyn. I'm your girlfriend, not your property,” you said, very upset with her words. “music is my job, and you can't pretend to tell me which songs I write and which ones I don't just because you're jealous of someone who is no longer in my life.”

“If that's what you think, I don't know what you're doing with me. The only thing I ask of you is a bit of loyalty and respect, just like I do with you,” she told you, also raising her tone.

“Do you think I'm not faithful to you?” You asked, pointing to yourself. “This is the last straw.”

“You don't show me, (Y/N), singing to any whore you've ever met, and spending nights drinking wine with Larissa,” she hissed. You shook your head.

That jealousy and that possessiveness were her worst flaw, and that day you didn't feel like putting up with another paranoia.

“Don't you know what friends are?” You asked rhetorically. “Well, look, it doesn't matter. I'm leaving, I'm not going to put up with you controlling me like that,” you said, taking your stuff and leaving the building.

“I thought you were different, but it is clear that you are all the same. Treacherous and ungrateful…” The redhead murmured when you passed by her.

You turned to answer her, but you shook your head, not wanting to play along.

You were right, you were convinced that you were, but even so, you did not stop turning it over in your head. Your room seemed very small and your thoughts very large. You felt the overwhelming need to apologize, to talk calmly with her and make her understand that you didn't mean to hurt her, and you would never trade her for someone else. But another part of your conscience told you that you shouldn't do it, that you couldn't allow her to control you like that, no matter how much you were in love with her.

The small space you had, and the typical insomnia of a vampire haunted you that night. And in those situations there was only one thing that could help you, a night walk in the woods. It was cold, but at least the fresh air was good for you.

“I only love you, but you have to stop being so jealous…” You said to yourself, rehearsing a possible future conversation. “No, too simple.”

You stopped walking when you thought you heard a branch snapping behind you. You turned, but there were only trees and mist there. You weren't scared, but you had been thinking about Marilyn for so long that you had even gotten a little disoriented. You looked around nervously until you could make out the lights of the academy in the distance.

“I'd better come back… Tomorrow I'll surely see things differently,” you murmured. Another crack sounded behind you, and this time you were sure it wasn't your imagination. “Who's there?”

Obviously there was no answer. Your legs began to shake, but you decided to keep walking. A shadow passed between the trees and you froze in shock.

“Who's there? It’s not funny,” you said.

A monstrous roar sounded behind you, and automatically, you started running back to Nevermore. A few steps and a few gasps behind you told you that something was chasing you. You didn't want to look back. You had heard rumors of a monster in the forest, but you never believed them. A root in the ground tripped you and you fell with a crash to the cold ground.

“Shit…” You protested. You couldn't make any move. That shadowy creature grabbed your ankle, preventing you from getting up. You turned and saw that monstrous creature, looking at you as if you were its prey. It was horrible, a thing straight out of hell. You saw death above you, and you could only cover yourself with your hands.

After another terrifying roar, you received a strong claw blow to the neck. You could feel the blood gushing from the wound and you took a quick look back at your life before what would surely be your death. The second blow never came. The monster got very close to you and roared angrily in your face, before running away, disappearing into the mist.

“Fuck…” You sighed, placing a hand on the wound. It didn't look too deep, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. You got up awkwardly, looking everywhere for the creature. It had disappeared.

“Well, enough of night walks for today...” You said, walking towards Nevermore with your hand on the wound.

The next day, the wound hurt even more. You knew you should have told someone, but you didn't dare to be thought crazy. That wound on your neck resembled of a lycanthrope one, and you had several companions like that, and you liked to fight from time to time.

You didn't know what you were going to say to Marilyn to try and fix things, so your best bet was to avoid her at all costs, until you knew exactly what to say. The class had finished, and it was the last one of the day. You were proud that you were able to avoid the redhead all that time.

Your wound stung, as you were wearing a turtleneck to hide it, and the fabric rubbed against it. You would have to heal it at some point. Three knocks on the door got you out of your neck check.

“Come in,” you said. You had lost your mind, and you realized it when Marilyn walked through the door.

“Oh no…” You sighed, burying your head in your arms. “Marilyn, no, I'm not in the mood.”

“Please, (Y N), I just want to talk,” she told you with a sad look. That was her apologetic tone, so you felt a sudden relief.

“Come on, talk,” You said, feigning indifference. She nodded and closed the door.

“I'm so sorry, honey. What happened yesterday was nonsense, and I exaggerated a lot,” she told you, with a regretful look.

“It's always the same Marilyn,” you said, shaking your head. “I can't understand why you're so jealous, have you ever been hurt?”

“Too many times,” she confessed.

“Oh…” You said, feeling a little bad for her. “Well, I'm sorry, but you have to learn that I'm not like that. I love you and there is no one else in my life but you. I want you to be clear, and stop worrying. If you promise me, I can forgive you.”

She nodded, tears in her eyes.

“Forgive me, (Y/N), please. I promise to trust you more from now on. I, I don't want to lose you,” she said sobbing, when the tears began to run down her cheeks.

You were bright-eyed too and looked into her eyes. You loved her, you loved her very much. Too much to end it all for something so absurd.

“It's okay, Marilyn, I forgive you…” You sighed. “Come here, come on.”

She threw herself into your arms and kissed you passionately. You leaned your forehead against hers, while she pressed your body against hers.

“I love you... I love you... I love you...” She told you kissing you. You smiled. The redhead brought her hands to the back of your neck like she used to, but this time you moved automatically, hissing in pain. Marilyn withdrew immediately and looked at you strangely.

“What the…?” She whispered, seeing some marks above the neck of your sweater. You couldn't do anything to prevent her from pulling the garment away and looking at it carefully. Her expression turned horrified. “My God! What happened to you?”

You sighed and carefully took off your jersey, leaving you with only an undershirt. You tilted your neck so she could see the wound better.

“Do you remember the monster that Addams says she saw?” You asked, while she looked scared at your wound. The redhead nodded. “Well, it exists. Yesterday it attacked me while I was walking through the woods.”

“My God,” she said, breathing hard. Seeing that wound surprised her, but somehow she didn't show any signs of panic. “Does it hurt, my love?” She asked lovingly.

“Well, a little, but it could have been worse,” you said, noticing how the wound was throbbing.

“It’s getting infected, (Y/N). Come, let's go to my room, you have to cure it or it will get worse.” You accepted and accompanied her. She would be jealous, but also loving, and she cared about you.

You sat on her bed, while she picked up the first-aid kit. She sat next to you, with the box on her lap, and looked closely at your wound.

“Tell me, doctor, do we have to amputate?” You joked. She smiled and shook her head.

“Not at the moment, but that must be disinfected. I'm sorry, (Y/N), I'm afraid it's going to hurt,” she said, pouring hydrogen peroxide on a gauze pad.

“Bah, it doesn't scare me, I'm pretty good with pain... Ahhhhhh! Damn!” You screamed when you noticed how the gauze made contact with your skin. Marilyn smiled, but she didn't stop. “Stop, stop, Stop!”

“Hold on a bit, honey, it's almost done,” she told you quietly, trying to make you stay still.

After a few more moments of excruciating pain, Marilyn carefully bandaged the area.

“No more torture?” You asked fearfully. She shook her head, closing the box.

“No, not for today, tomorrow we'll look to see how it is,” she told you, getting up. You grabbed her wrist.

“Hey, Marilyn…” You said. She nodded smiling. “Thank you.”

The redhead bent down and she kissed you tenderly on the lips. She went to leave the kit and then came back, when you were already up.

“Well, then… I'm leaving,” you said melancholic. Marilyn walked up to you, grabbing you around the waist.

“Stay, please,” she whispered in your ear. You turned around and also grabbed her waist, looking into her eyes. The arguments were horrible, but the reconciliations were incredible.

There you were, with Marilyn resting on your chest, after a night of overwhelming passion. Your vampire status prevented you from falling asleep immediately, and that gave you an advantage to enjoy your girlfriend asleep on your chest. The eyelids began to weigh too much, and sleep finally came to your body.

You woke up abruptly, sweaty and scared. You had a nightmare and it took you a while to realize that it was a dream. A terrible thirst invaded your body. Fortunately you had a remedy for it. You would have to be very careful not to look at your girlfriend, because you might not be able to resist the urge to bite her.

Searching through your pockets, you found the small bottle of cow's blood that you carried everywhere. You took a long drink and quickly began to feel much better. You sighed in relief and now you did turn around. There was no one next to you, the bed was empty. You felt around the sheets looking for the redhead, but there was no one there.

“Marilyn?” You asked. There was no answer. “Are you in the bathroom?” There was only silence.

It was not normal that she was not there. You picked up your phone and called her. She didn't answer the phone either.

The attack the day before had made you too alert and you were terrified that your girlfriend had encountered that monster. You looked at the time, midnight.

Without thinking twice you got dressed and left the room, determined to look everywhere for the redhead. The halls were empty. There was no one at the school. It was late and everyone had been sleeping for a long time.

You leaned out of a window, from which you could see the conservatory. There was light on it and a relief ran through your body. Surely she was there, taking care of some of her plants. You smiled and went down the stairs, going out to meet her. As you got closer, you began to hear what sounded like an argument between two people. You could see Marilyn through the glass, but she wasn't alone. Tyler, the waiter from the town cafeteria, was there, looking scared.

You didn't want to interrupt. That situation was strange, so you decided to listen to what was going on.

“You're an idiot!” The redhead yelled. You've heard her scream before, but not like this. She didn't seem like herself. “You almost killed her, you moron!”

“I, I, I'm sorry Laurel...” the boy said, visibly scared.

“Laurel?” you whispered to yourself. This was being too weird. You only knew one person with that name, and she was dead.

“You're sorry!?” She yelled. “Did I order you? Have I asked you?”

“No…No…But…” The boy was truly terrified.

“But?”

“Yesterday you said that she hurt you… And I couldn't allow it…” Tyler answered, with a somber look. She laughed disgustedly.

“I was just venting, you prick. We had an argument and I just told you. At no time did I tell you to hurt her...” She hissed, approaching the young man in a threatening way.

“I, I didn't kill her, I just…”

He couldn't finish the sentence. A loud slap sounded in the silence of the night. Tyler put his hand up to his face, but he didn't do anything, he just gave her a pitying look.

You contemplated the scene stunned. The monster, the creature that attacked you, was that boy, and it seemed that he was following Marilyn's orders, and that this is not her real name. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, not giving credit to what you were hearing.

“I already have the nightshade poison ready, and I really want to try it with you…” She said in a threatening way. The boy knelt down and shook his head, hugging her legs disturbingly.

“No Please. I, I am good, I am a good Hyde, only, I only wanted to make you happy,” he said between tears. She made a disgusted face and pushed him, causing him to fall pathetically to the ground.

“Do not touch me. No man can ever make me happy. You just follow my orders and maybe I'll let you live your miserable life,” the redhead said. Her voice sounded different, like she wasn't really your loving girlfriend, like she was someone else… Laurel.

“Fuck, Laurel Gates…” You said, when the revelation appeared in your mind. The last daughter of that horrible family. It was her, she always was. She cheated on you and everyone. You wanted to cry, but first you wanted to hear how that conversation ended.

“You take care of Wednesday, which is what I have ordered. My personal life is my business, Tyler,” she told him, with the same haughty posture. The boy reached out to her, to help him up, but she slapped his hands contemptuously. “Will you? Or do I have to kill you?”

“I will, I will, Laurel, you'll be proud of me, I, I swear,” Tyler said, nodding profusely.

“Good. I'll call you tomorrow when the crypt is ready for your appointment. Until then, stay away from here, and one last thing… Get close to (Y/N) again, and I won't hesitate to kill you. Get out.”

The boy nodded and headed for the exit. You moved, hiding yourself so he wouldn't see you. When he was far enough away, you came out of hiding, ready to face your girlfriend.

“I told you to get out…” She hissed, working on what looked like some kind of chemical.

“Who are you?” You asked, causing the redhead to turn around, scared to see you.

“(Y/N), what are you doing here? You were asleep...” She said, pretending not to be doing anything.

“Drop the act, I've heard everything,” you said, stopping her from lying to you again. “Everyone believed that Laurel Gates was dead... And it turns out that it was you.”

She shook her head, clearly nervous, and without any defense.

“Honey, I can explain it to you…” She said trying to keep calm.

“What are you going to explain to me? Tyler is a Hyde, and you are his mistress, right?” You asked.

“Yes, but…” She started

“Why, Laurel?” You asked, emphasizing her real name.

“It's, it's complicated…” She said shyly. “My, my family...”

“Your family was a gang of psychopathic murderers,” you said furiously, remembering everything you had heard about them, and what were the opinions regarding outcasts, people like you.

“Don't insult my family…” She hissed, putting on a look that was too dark.

“You have lied to me and to all of us. Nightshade poison? Did you mean to kill us with that?”

“No, no honey, I would never hurt you…”She told you, trying to get closer to you. Each time she did, you took a step back, until your back collided with the wall, preventing you from moving further. She reached for you and cupped your face in her hands, looking up at you with teary eyes.

You shed a tear, unable to judge her objectively. You still loved her, no matter who she was.

“Now I understand your jealousy. It hurts you that I get along with the rest. That I relate to the outcasts. It hurts you that I am one of them…” You said sobbing.

“No, honey, that's not so. I'm just afraid of losing you...” She said softly, so close that you felt her breath on your lips.

“You sent your monster after me…” You said, closing your eyes. She shook her head, resting her forehead against yours.

“No, my love… I would never do that. I love you, (Y/N), I love you very much…”

“No, I can't believe you…” You said, without moving away from her. “If you try something, Laurel, anything…I…”

“I will never hurt you, (Y / N), I never would… You have to believe me…”She begged you, kissing you softly. “I never imagined that Tyler would do that… I didn't… I didn't want to hurt you, I didn't want anything to happen to you.”

You finally pulled away, running a hand over her cheek. She was the love of your life, and nothing she did would ever change that. But that was too much for you, you couldn't be weak, you had to be strong.

“You were about to kill me…” You sobbed, running your hand over her face painfully slowly.

“I haven't done it, my love... That hasn't happened...” She told you, almost unable to speak clearly.

“You didn't kill me, Laurel, but if you wanted to, you would’ve.” You said, lowering your arm and opening the door, disappearing from the place while crying desperately.

Your bag was still in her room and you went to retrieve it. Crying overwhelmed you and you sat on the floor with your head against the wall, crying and regretting what had happened. You couldn't rat her out to Larissa, you didn't want to lose her, even though she wanted you extinct.

You didn't sleep at all that night. You had many things on your mind, and a broken heart. She, your girlfriend, had betrayed you, cheated... But it was your love, the only true love you ever had. The sunbeams entered through your window and the familiar sensation of morning thirst clouded your feelings. You desperately searched for the blood bottle, but it didn't appear, which only meant that it was still in the room of that woman, now unknown to you.

As much as you didn't want to see her, your instincts forced you to leave your room. You needed to drink, or you could do something crazy. You knocked on the door desperately. It slowly opened, and the redhead showed a face similar to yours. Exhausted, tearful.

“The, the bottle... I need it,” you murmured, making a superhuman effort not to look at her neck, her appetizing and beautiful neck. She nodded a little scared by your look and went in, closing the door. Shortly after she reappeared and she gave you the liquid, which you took to your mouth, emptying the contents of that bottle. Relief coursed through your body, and you turned to leave, without further explanation.

You took one step, two, but by the third, your vision blurred and you had to lean against the wall to keep from falling.

“(Y/N), are you alright?” Laurel asked, peeking through the door,

“Yes, I'm fine…Go away…” You said slowly, finding great difficulty speaking. You slipped and fell to the ground on your knees. Your whole world was spinning out of control, and you were unable to move, or hear anything. Everything went black.

You didn't know how long you were unconscious, but you woke up in your girlfriend's room. You didn't notice anything strange and the dizziness had completely disappeared. Everything was fine, except for a strange sensation in your chest, as if everything was calm, as if the actions of the night before were unimportant.

“(Y/N), you're awake,” Laurel came out of the bathroom with a glass of water and looked at you with a tender smile. You should hate her, she had cheated on you, she was almost responsible for your death, but none of it mattered to you. When you looked at her, you smiled with relief, feeling great joy to see her, to see that she was close to you.

“La, Laurel, I've missed you,” you said, getting up and extending your arms towards her. She smiled and hugged you affectionately, stroking your hair. The feeling of having her in your arms was much better, it was like something divine, pleasant. You were happy, happy to have her.

“You have to drink water, honey, come on, do it for me,” she said, trying to get out of your embrace. You released her immediately and took the glass she offered you, drinking its contents.

“What's happening to me? I, I feel wonderful, as in a dream,” you said, without stopping looking into her eyes, the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen.

“Don't worry, honey, that's normal,” she told you, leaving the empty glass on her table.

“Do you know what is not normal?” You asked, taking her hand. “The love I feel for you. It is infinite,” you said sincerely. She laughed and kissed you briefly. If the hug was pleasant, the kiss was much better, everything seemed possible and you couldn't feel happier.

“I love you, my girl,” she told you, caressing you. “Just let yourself be carried away by the love you feel for me... I never thought that love potions really worked, but I see that I was wrong.” You nodded, not being aware of what he had said. “You're totally crazy about me...”

“Yes…” You sighed, throwing yourself back into her arms.

“I must confess that I put some of that potion in your bottle, but I imagine you know that I did it for your own good, right?”

You agreed. You shouldn't, but you fully understood why she had done it and you didn't hold any grudges against her for it.

“Very well, honey. You'll see how happy we are going to be,” she told you, making your heart beat effusively. “When everyone is dead, we will have all of this dirty place just for you and me….”

You nodded again, feeling a visceral hatred for what seemed to be her enemies.

“They must die,” you said, as if you were drugged.

“That's how I like it, (Y/N)… You're so good. I think I'm going to have to reward you...” She said suggestively. “But not now, first I have to do something important. You stay here and wait for me... Then I'll show you how much I love you...”

#marilyn thornhill #marilyn thornhill x reader #wednesday #laurel gates #ms thornhill #oneshot

22 notes · View notes

uroboros-if · 1 year

Note

i just wanted to say i adored the demo so much! not only was the game so aesthetically pleasing and nice to look at, the writing is *chef’s kiss*! i just love your writing! it’s amazing and i was completely immersed within the first few seconds. your IF is very professional and put together and i feel like it should be put in a museum! that aspect is just amazing and should earn its own showcase. but now onto your writing and characterization. i. am. in. love. i absolutely ADORE the ROs so much! i just love how different they are from each other. each of them have their own charm that’s unique to them. i am definitely going to play multiple times for each RO so i can experience each of their routes.

like Salvatore, to me, feels like when you see a cat all curled up, sleeping under a spot of sunlight shining through the window. just warmth and happiness, but also maybe don’t mess with them either, lol. like i cant wait to learn more about them and get to really know them past what they present to others. it’s very exciting!

and Luciel! oh, sweet Luciel. i adore them and all their calmness. definitely feel like a foggy, somber pond with a weeping willow where the air is crisp and clean. having a picnic there would be very lovely and i would love to take them on a picnic to a isolated place with a nice view. i also want to understand them more and why they seems so separated from everyone. and why they’re always so nice!

Ciocana! they were so fun during the dance scene. i think that was one of my favorite parts, lol. to me, they feel like you and your friends on a late summer night after sneaking out of the house, going to an abandoned building with a chain-link fence with a ‘no-trespassing’ sign attached. and you just HAVE to climb that fence and explore that building. i cant wait to learn more about them! they seem like a very complex character and those rumors, however true, are just the surface. so i’m excited to explore that dynamic.

and Alessi! ALESSI! i’m in love with them. i loved their introduction so much! the fire, the passion, the defiance. the way they refused to bow down was very iconic. definitely a rebellious, passionate activist vibe. like standing on a flipped over car, a microphone in hand, speaking passionately about what they believe in. you get goosebumps on your skin at seeing them speak and you feel invigorated after their speech. i’m so very interested to see how MC interacts with them and how the whole investigation goes.

all in all, i’m so excited for your story! everything about it is amazing and i can tell you’ve worked hard on this. so congratulations on publishing your IF!

i hope you eat lots of food, drink lots of water, get lots of sleep, and take many breaks. you deserve it! <3

also, sorry not sorry for the long non-ask lol

🥹🥹 Anon, I want to give you a hug 🫂🫂 I'm a little obsessed with your ask

I am so so happy 😭😭 I wish I had words for this, but I am speechless. I cannot match your amount of enthusiasm and appreciation; my gratitude is inexplicable within the constraints of the language--flawed and so limited.

Again, it is super surprising to me that people can see that Salvatore is putting on a front, so to speak! Not that they're disingenuous or faking it, but they present themselves a certain way because they have to. I'm not sure how people are picking up on it, but that is exciting news!! You perfectly capture the happiness and tranquility of bathing underneath the sunlight through the window though 🫶!!

I also absolutely adore the imagery you have for Luciel!! Do you mind if I take inspiration from you? 😭🥹💕 I struggle to describe the exact image they bring to mind, but what you said is absolutely perfect!! Just the right amount of peaceful and yet mysterious and transporting.

I'm glad Ciocana invokes that vibe as well!! They are definitely the definition of teenage defiance, of being told that you can't do something and just wanting to do it even more (which... is probably how their romance is going to be!). I'm super excited to explore them further!

Alessi definitely brings that to mind with their fiery passion! With such strongly-held beliefs, though, they'd likely be hostile to MC at first... but MC is a little different from the gods. So we'll have to see how they feel about that!

Again, thank you SO much for all your lovely words, and your very long ask. Don't be apologetic! You yourself must have spent quite the time writing this ask, which is profound. I sometimes think about how I've taken just a few minutes of someone's life, just so they can say such kind words. When time and energy is so finite, I just... it's the most precious thing to be given of all things. Thank you for your ask 💕🫂

#uroboros-if #uroboros #asks #anon #compliments

28 notes · View notes

druggeddraccus · 1 year

Text

today i did a lot of food prep. i made a big tub of tuna for my dad cause he takes it to work and puts on sand which or crackers. i finally made sweet tea i was dying just drinking water sometimes i need a break from it. some flavor lol.

i also had a bunch of romaine lettuce that i cut up so we can just grab from it for lunches or for dinner and the kind you have to cut tends to last longer than pre bagged salad and cause it’s in a sealed container it’s just simpler/easier.

i also buy onions and bell peppers in bulk cause i use them a lot in my cooking so i cut them up and set them on a tray to freeze and then when that’s done i put them in gallon bags and it makes it easier to use. and the onions still taste good raw (just have to thaw) and then when i’m cooking i don’t have to stop to like cut suit. idk it’s nice. i like doing food prep lol

but now i have a fucking shit to of onions i think i cut like 8 of them

my parents got me this really nice chopper for the holidays and i freaking love it. i only cried a little bit with the onions

i also had a bunch of fruit that i had washed and cut.

and i also cleaned the shower. it was growing mold in the grout lines just really nasty. and i used one of my dads drills with a like scrub brush—so like the drill moved the brush essentially and i was in there for over an hour just—i was getting obsessed. i was having a great time genuinely.

like i clearly can get obsessive you just have to look at the pants i’m mending lol and with the shower i would’ve been in there for hours and hours. just going to town. thank god the drill died and i didn’t have a back up battery lol

sometimes my environment has to force me to stop doing things and that’s okay lol

#very chill day #2023 dayss #may 17 2023 #jordyn’s journal

4 notes · View notes

monstermaster13 · 1 year

Text

TftW: Fish-Man of Omega House.

Salvatore Moreau tf

````````````````````

Sometimes people who are weird are vilified for a number of reasons, there was one member of Delta House which was always ridiculed and mocked for his quirky tastes, his name was Seymour Lovecraft but his nickname was ‘Pisces’ because of his recurring love of aquatic creatures, he had a part time job working at an aquarium and he would share his stories with some of the fish which had gotten him the title of ‘that weird student who talks to fish’, this was why nobody trusted him because of his appearance and he was bullied, his most common bully was Greg Marmalard of Omega House, one evening Pisces had arrived late to a get together with the other Deltas and he appeared to be in a rather rough state. ‘Sorry i’m late guys but something happened.’ ‘Was it Marmalard?’ ‘Yes, he threatened to report my mutant fish experiment to Wormer.’ ‘That bastard needs to be taught a lesson.’ ‘I know, I still have some of my mega-grow fish formula here, we’ve seen what it does on fish but what about people?’ ‘Do you think the formula could turn Marmalad into a fish-monster?’ ‘You know I definitely think it could.’

Pisces began to formulate a plan in his mind and then on paper, using a tablet he had found to describe what he wanted to pull off, he had a series of recurring nightmares about being trapped in the aquarium while it was being flooded and there were fish mutants in said nightmares, and he did a computer generated illustration of the scenario of said nightmares, vividly adding in detail like the piranha-people and designing the mutants. He got an even bigger jolt of inspiration from a Resident Evil village poster, his favorite lord was Moreau and he loved him like he was a mentor or father figure. ‘Ooh, I know what I want to do.’

A couple of hours later he sent an invitation via email to Omega House’s members for a special gathering over at the place where the aquarium was, he always had a copy of the times-tables which contained the schedule of which animals/sea-creatures were going to be taken care of by the staff. So he worked extra hard to make sure the staff weren’t going to be short staffed and he volunteered, he looked over at the piranha tank as he began to feed some of the formula to them which in turn turned them into human/piranha habits that were stout humanoid piranha-folk with sharpened teeth. Marmalard was of course there with the others to keep an eye on things, but he had his suspicions.

“Are you up to something, Lovecraft?”

“Who? Me? Of course not. I am just making sure that my friends, both my land friends and water-born ones, are safe.”

“Nice try but I know why you brought us here.”

“What? Can’t we all have a friendly get together without something going wrong?”

“Don’t play coy with me, I know what you’re up to.”

‘I’m not playing coy with you, why would I do that…I definitely wouldn’t want to poi with you either.’ ‘Another one of your fish jokes? Now doesn’t seem like the time for those.’ ‘There’s always time for my fishy jokes, my friends like them, it’s only you and your friends that don’t, but to show i’m not going to harm you, i’ve got something I want you to do with me.’ ‘It’s not a trick is it?’ ‘Oh no…it’s no trick, all I ask is for you to help me clean this tank over here, it’s getting pretty dirty and I would hate for my fishy friends to die.’ ‘Okay fine, but this better not be a trick.’ Marmalard was known for his stubbornness and arrogance but he wasn’t stupid, well not in the typical sense, he crept over to the tank with the dirty water in it and began to put in a pipe that cleaned out the water.

“Very good. See? It’s easy.”

“Now what do I do? If you say drink the water i’ll…”

He turned around, but Pisces smirked as he pushed one of the pipes, the other which spilled some of the dirty water on Greg, he chuckled as he did so. ‘Ha! How do you like being covered in my mutagenic dirt water?’ ‘You slimy fish-obsessed bastard!’ ‘Yep, I used the mutagenic water filter kit I invented in chemistry class for this little plan. Unlike most of your guys, I paid attention and followed the recipe, I just added my own touch for spice.’ ‘When I get my hands on you…’ Pisces laughed, thinking it was hilarious that he was being threatened, that’s when Greg’s skin slowly began to deform and flake off in a few places and develop a rash that give him a reddish scaled appearance. That’s when his hands slowly started to contort and deform, altering to give them a webbed appearance while his fingernails lengthened, he panicked and screamed as pieces of his skin flaked off and landed on the floor, this made the other Omegas throw up.

‘What’s happening to Greg? What are you doing to him, you sicko?’ Mandy Pepperidge shouted. ‘I am getting back at him for all the times he has bullied me for being weird..’ she gasped in horror as spots that resembled white sand, he scratched away at it only to be met with a series of lesions that developed on his skin and his body to slowly bloat up as if he had not only eaten a lot but also made it look like he had dropsy, his skin became bumpy and also turned from its normal healthy color to gray as his whole body deformed, he also gained a number of nautical tattoos which were burned into his skin. He heard a loud crunching sound as his back slowly began to hunch over.

“I will tell Wormer about this and he will not be furious.”

“I already have plans for the others, so I wouldn’t bother trying if I was you.”

Several fleshie malformed lumps popped up all over his back, some that very much resembled humps were there too, hunching his back and making him look like he was morphing into a deformed hunchback, he tried to shake the water off but to no avail…as his stomach bloated and gained some of the same lumps on the side. One of the lumps on his back had even developed some kind of eye. He panicked and demanded that Pisces turn him back to normal but Pisces was too busy enjoying the show. ‘This is like a revenge-fic only so much better, I wouldn’t even think about changing you back.’

Greg lunged at Pisces and attempted to hit him only to fall backward once his feet slowly became webbed like his hands had as he grew up a bit in height and his shoulders deformed with a crack, he started to cough as black ooze and blood dripped out of his mouth he started to feel like he needed a lot of water as his neck swelled and gills developed on it, his ears didn’t fade away but his brown hair slowly fell away only to become tangled up in style and turning from brown to black, his normally handsome features crumbling away and deforming, his face become malformed and monstrous looking as some of his teeth fell out except for a few of them, it didn’t take him long to realize he was turning into the character Salvatore Moreau, who was Pisces’s favorite lord in the game. He begged for forgiveness only to be ridiculed by Pisces who explained to him that it was for the best.

The other Omegas were horrified about what they were witnessing, they were witnessing their normally handsome house leader becoming a fish-monster and it was horrifying them and making them violently ill at the same time. Which Bluto thought was hilarious. Greg groaned as he leaned towards the tank, as he broke down in tears. ‘I’ll do anything, please..I am super duper sorry, I will never pick on you again.’ ‘I like a person who pleads but it’s too late for you.’ Pisces walked over to him, Greg groaned as his voice altered and contorted, becoming exactly like Moreau’s voice and that’s when he started getting a head-ache, he couldn’t think straight, he had trouble remembering who he was. ‘That can’t be right, i’m not Salvatore Moreau, i’m Greg Marmalard, right? Come on guys, back me up here.’

A couple of seconds later his personality and mind warped and contorted, becoming the ones that went with his new form and look, his jeans had become a pair of gray tattered pants as his transformation had finished, he was no longer the arrogant leader of Omega House, he was the misunderstood fish-man Salvatore Moreau. Pisces began to fanboy as he adjusted his wavy brown hair, his deep blue eyes fluttering a little as he did so. ‘You’re my hero, Moreau, for all my life I have been viewed as odd and it took me a while to find a hero of my on but I have found one now and it is you, I love you.’ ‘Really? You love me? Nobody has ever said that to me before.’ ‘Well of course I do, you’re a nice fish-man and I think you’re father figure material.’

“But no one has ever loved me before.”

“Well I do..and there are quite a few fans who love you too, if not more.”

Moreau hugged Pisces and that’s when he realized he had finally found love, and that to him was a wonderful feeling. ‘Say, I work at the aquarium, would you like to have a job here?’ ‘I would like that.’ The marine biologist student showed Moreau to the aquarium’s manager who liked him so much that he hired him to be a tour guide, and thus with that a new friendship was formed and Moreau learned about what being loved truly felt like, the guests all adored him and treasured his information and they thought he was fascinating and unique, as for what happened later he finally found a way to control his transformation into his more monstrous state and even gained an anthro-ish form with the attributes of his mutated form.

Thus we come to the moral of the story, revenge is often a good prize to obtain but friendship and understanding are even better, sometimes even stories that are filled with gore, guts, revenge and tragedy can have a good side to them and may this be a lesson to all of you.

0 notes

urimaginespimp · 3 years

Text

A Half-naked Nurse and Wrong Ideas.

Bucky x Reader with fever.

Thank you @daredarling for the “you’ve gotten sick and Bucky takes care of you” idea.

——–

You should’ve known better than to race Sam under a thunderstorm last night. Waking up the next morning, you had a massive headache, your muscles felt sore, and you were shivering.

“Miss Y/N, Mr. Barnes says you’re half an hour late in training.” FRIDAY’s voice spoke, making you groan and bring your comforters above you.

“Tell him to fuck off.” you muffled under the sheets.

Barnes… He has been nothing but a pain in the ass to you. To this day, you don’t know what you’ve done for him to dislike you this much. And as if his snarky comments and glares thrown your way wasn’t enough, Steve actually paired you both for missions and trainings.

If he wasn’t so handsome you would’ve cut him already. If Steve allowed you.

Loud bangs hit your door outside. “Y/L/N you’re already 30 minutes late! That’s 5 laps extra for you!” You could hear the irritation lacing his voice.

Maybe if you ignore him long enough, the pest would go away.

“I know you’re in there!” He followed up after you ignored him.

Sighing in annoyance, you got up, with the blankets still wrapped around you, and weakly waddled your way to your door, not bothering to open up your curtains. Opening the door, A frowning Bucky was looking down on you. If you weren’t feeling so shitty, you would’ve snickered at his expression.

“Barnes why are you so obsessed with me?” your cracked voice barely managed to finish asking.

He was observing you from head to toe, noting how pale you are, and shivering under a huge comforter despite that your AC was off.

“You’re stupid.” That was the first thing that came out of his mouth.

“Well, you’re not that sma-”

“Will you shut up and go back to bed? You look like you’re about to drop dead any second now.” He interrupted you, his face still stern with no emotion.

Rolling your eyes, you turned back and weakly made your way back over to bed, pausing to groan as you remembered you forgot to close the door.

“If you’re still there, could you please close the door.” it almost pained you to even be so polite to him but you blame it to being sick.

Finally managing to lie back down, you stared up the ceiling when you heard the door finally shut gently. Sighing, you were about to let sleep take over you when something caught the corner of your eye.

Bucky was by the closed door, taking his shirt off over his head. You let out a shriek. “What the fuck are you doing in my room?!”

“You’re sick.” he replied nonchalantly, while kicking off his shoes, leaving him in his sweatpants and socks.

“And taking off your clothes is supposed to make me feel better?!” you were trying to support yourself with your elbow, facing his way. “And I meant that you close the door before leaving.”

“I don’t want to die of heat while taking care of you.” he replied in a duh tone before entering your bathroom to fetch some warm water in a basin.

You were still trying to process what he was getting at when he finally went back out, now basin with steaming water in hand.

“You got a clean towelette I can use?” has asked as he placed the basin on the foot of your bed.

“Yeah, it’s by the third dra- what the hell are you doing again?” you caught yourself as he was opening your drawers. “Because if you’re trying to kill me, doing it while I’m defenseless is just beneath you.”

“Didn’t think your IQ could get any lower but you’re sick so I’ll let this pass.” He rolled his eyes before soaking the cloth on the water. “I’m nursing you. Now lay flat and still so the cloth won’t fall off that forehead of yours.” he instructed, again sounding so casual.

You followed his orders before realizing that this whole ordeal was still very weird. “I’m sorry, I still don’t get why you’re doing this.”

He went by your head and placed the cloth on your forehead, making you sigh at the warmth it brought your chilling form. “Steve will have my head if he finds out I knew you’re sick and let you die.”

You stared at him deadpan.

“And partners are supposed to be taking care of each other.” he muttered, making the side of your mouth twitch.

“If you tell anyone I said that I’ll kill you.” he lightly threatened when he noticed your mouth twitch.

“Fair enough. And I should probably tell you that I’m prone to get mentally confused when I have fevers which is a normal symptom, but just letting you know in case I start saying something nice.” you chuckled.

He went over your mini fridge and opened a bottle of water to drink.

You look at him, noticing that he was starting to sweat a lot from the heat. His skin was glistening making you mentally kick yourself from staring.

“You got underwear?” you found yourself asking, making him choke on his drink.

“What?”

“I-I’m just saying i-if you’re that hot, you can just take off your sweatpants and I won’t mind.”

“You’re saying I’m hot?” he chuckled, having fun twisting your words, making you flush. “Hey, color’s back on your face. Maybe I should get you all flustered more.” he teased further.

“Shut up Barnes, I meant that the room’s too hot for you because the AC is off. You’re sweating like a pig.”

“Save the excuses, Y/N. You won’t mind if I’ll just be in my boxers?” he smirked at you as he took his socks off and started working on untying the strings of his sweats.

“Puh-lease, Barnes, it may come as a shock to you, but I’ve seen enough men in boxers. You’re not that…”

You trailed off what you were going to say when you noticed that this was a different kind of boxers. Why were they so tight?

You thought he meant boxer shorts, not boxer briefs. Dammit.

“I’m not that…?” He asked.

“I forgot. Fever brain.” You shrugged, diverting your eyes away from him. “Anyway, why are you so nice to me? You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.” He contradicts, placing his hands on his hips.

“Uh, yeah you do.” you paused to let out a cough. “You always make fun of me or provoke me in front of everyone else.”

“And how do I treat you when we’re alone, especially in missions?” he raised his brows at you, expecting that you’ll put two and two together.

“A lot nicer actually.” You muttered.

“Look, I’m sorry. It’s just that the team keeps insisting I have a crush on you.” he scratched the back of his head.

“That’s ridiculous. Why would they even think that?” you chuckled.

“It’s Sam’s fault. He tricked me.”

“What?”

“He was being all hypothetical, saying what if I was only allowed to date someone from the team and who would I choose. And I uh… may have said I’d choose you. And everyone else heard.” He muttered the last part, embarrassed.

It was your turn to smirk at him. “And why me?”

“Stop that. You look like a smirking corpse.” he snapped at you defensively and cleared his throat. “It’s just that you were actually really nice to me when we met. Didn’t feel like you were masking apprehensiveness like everybody did when I first got here.”

“Sounds like you have a crush on me.” you had the courage to tease him, seeing how flustered he got from telling the story.

“This is not how you treat your nurse, Y/N.”

“Yeah, a nurse in his underwear. Very ethical. And I’m not your supervisor, but I think brooding is not advisable.”

“And now as your nurse, I would advise you to quit talking and get some sleep.” he playfully glared at you. “I’ll be by the chair to constantly check on your temperature and replace the cloth on your forehead.”

“I really appreciate what you’re doing, Barnes. I’m starting to think the team’s right.”

“Ma’am flirting with patients and vice versa is frowned upon. Now sleep.”

“Fine.”

——–

While you were finally snoozing for over an hour, gentle knocks were heard on your door.

Standing up from his chair, Bucky quickly made his way over the door to prevent more knocks from disturbing your sleep, forgetting that he was still only in his boxer briefs.

Opening it slowly, he was met with three pairs of wide eyes belonging to Steve, Sam, and Nat.

“Hey you guys, could you keep it down? Y/N is getting some rest.”

“Uhuh… I bet she needs it.” Sam replied slowly, still wide-eyed, noting how Bucky’s slightly sweaty.

“So… when did this happen?” It was Steve’s turn to speak up.

“Oh, just this morning. She was running late and I came here with the intention of punishing her for it but I ended up taking care of her.” He explained in a low voice, still oblivious to how their teammates were getting a totally different idea.

“Woah.” Nat muttered under her breath.

“Yeah, I guess her muscles are all sore because she was moving so weakly, and her voice is all hoarse now when she talks, and -”

“Look we’re happy for you, but TMI, Buck! TMI.” Steve cut him off and the three of them scrambled away from your room, with Sam muttering he didn’t need the unwelcomed visuals, and Nat screaming for Wanda.

Now left alone and confused by the doorway, he was trying to figure out why they reacted that way when it finally clicked.

“Fuck.” he whisper-yelled, knowing that the teasing was about to get worse.

——–

Final Part

Permanent tag list: @lizzarooni

Marvel Masterlist

1K notes · View notes

lord-explosion-baku · 3 years

Text

Trident Tale

Merman!Shinsou x reader, Kirishima x Reader

Warnings: adult themes (Minors DNI)

A/N: read the prologue on AO3

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

(Original image by @maewoahoah)

Synopsis: Moving to an island where everyone is big on the surf scene and other oceanic happenings might not have been the brightest idea for someone so afraid of anything that has to do with water, but you make do by spending your days looking after the Bed & Breakfast, trying not to burn the house down when you fry a few eggs, and obsessively scrolling through Eijirou Kirishima’s social media page. He’ll never notice you, and you think you’re fine with that, until a mysterious force washes into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool after a particularly nasty storm.

Hitoshi Shinsou is a pain in the ass from the get-go, but you put up with him, fins and all, when he promises he can help unite you with your soulmate. The catch? The fish is hellbent on taking back what was stolen from him, and he won’t lift a gracious finger until he gets what he came for.

You’re helpless to lend him a hand, so long as you stay dry. Unless, of course, he has other plans.

You know how the saying goes: you rub his fins, he’ll rub yours.

Storms have never really been your cup of tea. Though you keep yourself locked inside a good percent of the time, there’s nothing quite as suffocating as the compress of clouds overhead. It’s not like you always have to see them to be uncomfortable, but you definitely feel them pressing down, closing in, and caging you, even when you’ve got yourself tucked under a blanket on Ms. Shuzenji’s couch.

It’s been a little over a year since you first moved to the island. All you needed was a new beginning, and you got that, but you got that, and the tropical weather that you’re still getting used to. It’s currently typhoon season, and holy seaweed-on-your-doorstep, is it storming.

There’s little you can do to distract yourself while staying and working at Shuzenji’s bed and breakfast. There are currently no guests, aside from you, so all the rooms are made, and the old lady is on another one of her long vacations, so you’re basically being paid to lounge. You’re grateful for that, at least. But the only thing that’s keeping you physically separated from the terrifying weather is a thick glass pane that water sloshes on every time a wave laps over the backyard walls.

The things that separate you mentally are the old-timey recordings of Shuzenji singing alongside an ensemble cast, and the little device in your hand. If you didn’t have your boss’s haunting melodies echoing throughout the house, and some big, beefy, tatted eye-candy to gawk at during the storm, you’d surely go insane.

Eijirou Kirishima, one of the island’s best surfers, is out on his board, live-streaming his current fight against the waves. His whoops and hollers can be heard over the crashing tides, getting even you excited for what’s about to come. That’s the thing about Kirishima; he’s wild, you’re not, and it’s hot as hell. Oftentimes, you catch yourself daydreaming about joining him out in the surf—he guides you through the waves, maybe yoou impress him a bit with your sudden affinity for wave-riding, and the two of you wash up on shore where you’ll both share your first kiss. It would be feasible if you could swim. It would be feasible if you bothered to learn how to swim, but for now, you’re content with your imagination. At least he can make you hate the terrible weather a little less.

The conspiratorial smirk he shows the camera is borderline swoon-worthy when the swell begins to pull him further out. It’s impossible not to bite your lip every time you catch a glimpse of his arms forcing themselves through the sea. He makes this look easy—like the storm is child’s play, and as the winds blow Shuzenji’s trash bin into the sliding glass door, you welcome the delicious distraction.

As Kirishima stands up on his signature trident board and rides one of the biggest waves he’s seen all day, you’re once again struck with how much of a coward you are. He can fight the elements, while you can hardly bring yourself the courage to talk to him. Mind you, he’s constantly surrounded by a close group of friends—a close group of friends you find intimidating—and when he’s not with them, he’s out in the water. Where there’s water involved, you’re spoken for. Unless, of course, you’d like for the first time you guys actually speak, to be when he’s giving you CPR.

Not the most ideal “meet cute”, but if it works, it works.

A loud crash snaps you out of your admittedly salty daydream. Mango, Shuzenji’s orange tabby, yowls at the blanket of water cascading down the windows, and your stomach sinks. There’s only so many minutes you can pretend that the storm Kirishima is facing isn’t the one that’s destroying Shuzenji’s yard.

With a sigh, you roll off the velvet couch, and grimace when crumbs that were nesting in your shirt fall to the carpet: a mess to clean up later. Without any guests to mind, you don’t have to worry too much over keeping the place spick-and-span, so long as things are nice and tighty by the time the old lady gets back, which will be awhile.

You have an easy enough job—at least, when there aren’t bunches of thick seaweeds crashing over the yard’s wall, flooding the pool.

“Shit.”

Water sprays in every direction. The already trash-infested pool overflows as more kelp rolls in with the maniacal waves, and angry, white foam bangs on the back door. It's a disaster outside, and you’re not sure what to do about it.

Fingers wrapped around the back door handle, you struggle to think of a way to prevent a bigger mess, but even if you could manage to clean anything, nothing is stopping the tempest from wreaking anymore havoc. Best case scenario, you stop a plastic soda-chain from washing out to see and becoming a deadly necklace for an unlucky seagull. Worst case scenario, you slip, crack your head open on the pavement, and drown before you can ever utter the words “mahalo” to Kirishima.

Needless to say, you’ll take your life over a gull’s any day.

Another sigh.

A greater wave collides against the wall, bringing more of the Great Unknown into the pool. This is going to be a fun job to clean. Good thing you’ve got Shuzenji’s service boy, Denki Kaminari, on speed dial. You think if you sound particularly distressed in the morning, he’ll show up to help you out with just about anything in the matter of minutes. God bless desperate fuckboys.

So, for now, you cuddle back up on the couch, watch Kirishima shake saltwater out of his thick, red hair, and pretend that his storm is not the same thing as your storm.

It’s early morning when you finally rise out of bed. You hadn’t gotten a whole lot of rest—something to do with the wailing winds shaking your bedroom window nonstop, but after you finally drifted into dreams about snakes and dragons, you woke to clear skies, and light seagull calls.

From the second story, you can see early birds have already gotten the jump on cleaning up the beach. The sun is shining, the ocean blue and vast. The only trace there was ever a storm is already being taken care of. There are lifeguards riding around on ATVs and younger civilians with trash bags and grapplers picking up seaweed and absconded debris. The respect everyone has for the island is something to be admired, and you half-consider going out there yourself, after you’ve dealt with your yard, which is sure to be a wreck.

There’s no interest in picking out a cute outfit for the morning you’re going to have, even if Denki might see you, so you throw on a already-worn-this-week crop top, some pink shirts, and you’re good to go.

The first thing you do after Mango’s fed is check your socials. Kirishima posted a picture of his breakfast: a hefty plate with three eggs, sausage links, bacon, cut avocado, and what seems to be low-carb toast. The post reads, gotta eat ur gainz 2 gain ur gainz, and it’s so ridiculous that you’re infatuated with this reckless himbo. You wonder if you’d ever be able to hold an intellectual conversation with him, if you could ever manage to speak to him in the first place, but conversation wouldn’t matter if his mouth was between your thighs.

Following his example, you crack two eggs over a frying pan, sigh at the mostly empty fridge, then agonize over the state of Shuzenji’s yard. It’s worse than you thought it’d be. The pool is a sickly green color, and from where you’re standing inside, its murky depths seem to be almost opaque from the seaweed and garbage stewing together. Kelp litters the beige pavement, and there’s trash hiding in the shrubs. There’s a chocolate donut floaty bobbing around in there, too, and Shuzenji doesn’t own any floaties.

What a drag.

Before you get too far in your head about everything you’ll need to do to clean up, you quickly dial Denki’s number. He picks up after a ring and a half.

“I know what you’re about to ask,” says the boy on the line, and from his cocky tone, you can assume it’s not going to be about the cleanup. “I am absolutely free tonight. If you wanted to grab drinks at the Salty Barrel, maybe go on a romantic rendezvous out on the beach, watch the sunset on or in a couple blankets, I wouldn’t complain.”

“I’m not calling to ask you on a date, Kaminari,” you say as you step outside. The pavement is cold underneath your bare feet, and you have to tip-toe around to be sure not to let any kelp touch your skin. Yuck.

“But you’re not, not calling about a date, either,” he counters. By the volume of his voice, you can tell that he’s in his van, talking to you over the speaker. Good. So he’s already out and about.

“I need you to tell me how to drain Shuzenji’s pool.” Call you cold, but you’re used to Denki’s flirty nature by now, and you’ve learned that the best way to deal with it, is to not acknowledge it. Of course, you can’t be too callous when it comes to him, especially when you actually need his help. You eye the dangerously complex-looking valves off to the side of the house, and grimace. “There’s too many twisty thingies! I’m not sure what to do!”

“Now, hold your horses, little lady! Don’t go twisting any thingies just yet. Draining a pool is a process.” There’s a long pause, the loud growl of an engine, then silence. He’d pulled over to talk to you. “How’s your TDL? And what kinda PVC pipes you got?”

“The huh and what?” You don’t need to pretend to be in distress—you have no idea what he’s talking about.

“Listen, don’t touch anything. You’re calling because the pool’s a mess right now, right? You don’t need to drain it; at least, not yet. I can swing by in an hour or so to clean it, but I’ve gotta make some stops first. You’re not the only single woman who wants to watch me do my thang, especially not after yesterday.”

“It’s so bad, Kaminari.” The water in the pool sloshes around, like there’s actually something in it causing the water to ungulate and burble. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Don’t worry your pretty, little head over it. You've got me, okay? It’s my job to protect and serve.”

“You’re not a cop.”

“Nope, I’m better than a cop. I’m a pool guy.”

He goes on to ask you to check out what kind of drain the pool has, if you can find the drain, then loses you when he starts talking numbers and gallons. While still on the phone, you send a few texts to Shuzenji, explaining the predicament, then Denki mentions rates. You’re getting the cutie pie discount, doubled because he counts Shuzenji as a “cutie pie” too—something you mention to her because she’ll get a kick out of it—then he drops all business to ask about food.

“I’m cooking my breakfast,” you say with a wary glance back at the house.

“But is your breakfast fries and a shake from Tiki Burger?”

You bite your lip as your stomach growls its empty sorrow. “No.”

“Would you like it to be?” His knowing grin is heard through the line.

“…I’m not gonna go out with you.”

He chuckles and you’re grateful that he can’t see your answering smile. “We’ll see how you feel after you see me work my magic. And hey, if you’d like me to wear a Speedo while I work—“

“You’ll be here in an hour?” You cut him off, because Denki in a Speedo is the last thing you need on your mind. The thought of Kirishima in a Speedo, however, gets you a little hot, which is saying a lot, since you’re a part of the Speedos and Dolphin-shorts Are Abominations To Swimwear belief system.

“Maybe sooner. I think my next client just needs me to check out their chemical levels. Inside pool and all. Everyone else knew to put a tarp out.”

The tarp you had blew away, but you don’t bother explaining that to Denki. Let him believe you’re the dim-witted “little lady” he wants you to be. If it means Shuzenji gets a discount, not that she can’t afford any bill Denki’s company throws at her, then let him believe you can’t open a pickle jar without a man’s help for all you care.

“See you then,” you say, and end the call. There will be time to work on your charm once Denki gets here. Until then, you figure you could do some investigating so you’re not completely helpless.

Leaving your phone on the pavement so you don’t accidentally drop it in the water, you make your way around the pool to where you think you remember the drain being. You can’t say you’ll know what kind of drain it is, but if you remember correctly, it’s circular, and like, kinda meshy? That description simply won’t do.

Dropping down to your knees, you peer down into the pool, squinting, as if that can help you see through all the muck. There’s definitely a lot of kelp and algae, sand drifting through the water, someone’s wayward brazier, and oh. A school of fish—little babies circling about. It’s wild, but you suppose it could be possible if all the chlorine washed out and there was enough salt water to sustain marine life.

The fish move together, bopping into each other, mouths gaping open to eat whatever they find in their temporary home. You don’t know enough about marine life to know what kind of fish they are. Silvery little things. Maybe Denki has something that can help transport them from the pool to the ocean. It’s not far—Shuzenji’s house is on the beach. It would be a shame if all the little fish had to die. You don’t particularly care about touching or feeding fish, but a life is a life, and if they can be saved, you’d at least like to try.

But all your thoughts of saving fish life stop when you catch something moving in the water. It’s not the fish—they’re not that big, but it’s definitely fishlike. Fish plus. It moves like a shadow, serpentine and fluid. You catch a glimpse of scales, so it’s definitely not a dolphin—even then, it’s bigger than a dolphin, and more graceful than a shark. You begin thinking of leviathan, and other mythical creatures, as ridiculous as that is, when you see a long flowing fluke.

Okay. This thing is not just big. It’s gargantuan, and to see this much of the creature without seeing its head makes your skin crawl. You imagine falling in and being swallowed whole, suffocating in the dark, drowning in a monster’s belly.

The thought spooks you static, just in time to meet a pair of eyes in the water. This is your overactive imagination—you’re scaring yourself insane, but you don’t look away, and those eyes, almost human and curious, don’t disappear.

You’ve consumed enough media to know how these impossible interactions go. The creature is inquisitive, but keeps its distance. It often has to be coaxed out of hiding, and even then, the thing is skittish and untrusting. You’re certainly not one to go “pspsps, hey little guy, I’m not gonna hurt you,” but even if you were, you don’t get the chance, because this thing you’re looking at isn’t the least bit skittish, and in one second, you’re making eyes at at it, and in the next, the thing is exploding out of the water.

A large, broad chest towers over you. The thing pushes itself up with arms, human arms, but it’s anything but human. Sure, it has hair, although an odd purple color, framing its angular face and jaw, which are both human enough. Also framing its face are a pair of long, pointed fins sticking out from where human ears should be. Water dribbles down its chest, down to its navel—its navel. Your brain screams mammal, but underneath its navel are scales, rippling down to where its legs should be. Not human. Not fish.

Fish plus.

Man.

Fish plus man.

Fish-man.

Its eyes are almost the same color as its hair, only a shade lighter, and much sharper, narrowed in on you. It’s glaring. You realize this at the same time you realize that you're staring at it with your mouth agape. This would be so rude in any other setting. It’s also rude to pop out of a pool that isn’t yours without any other warning, but you’re not about to chastise the thing. You’re far too scared.

Then the thing reaches out to you, sprinkling water on your thighs and your shirt. Its hands look like a man’s hand, but its long fingers are connected by thin, indigo webbing that matches its tail. Its tail. You lose focus trying to find the word for this creature that’s barely on the tip of your tongue, when you realize the palm of its hand, its fishy, webby hand, is hovering over your cheek, the other carefully placed next to your knee to keep it upright.

You open your mouth to speak, but only a hiss comes out. The creature, wary, brings its hand back, but only slightly. Not enough to put you at ease, but enough to allow you to gain your composure, and scream.

“H-help!!!” You screech. “Help! Somebody! Help me!”

It claps its hand over your mouth, knocking you back. Water drips down on your shirt as it leans in, mouth curling up with distaste. Then, it does something impossible.

It speaks.

“So loud,” it growls in a low, masculine timbre.

It speaks, you think, it speaks and it has no manners!

You try to yell back, probably something with little thought, but you have a mouth full of fish-man hand, and the more you warble in its palm, the more apathetic it appears.

“Be quiet and still,” it commands, as if obeying it is supposed to be the most natural thing—something it expects from you. It catches you so off-guard that you actually listen, only trembling a little bit as those indigo eyes scan over your form. It’s uncomfortable having an unknown but cognizant creature observe you so closely. You shiver when its gaze roams over your belly, down your legs. You want to curl your legs up, move away, but you’re afraid if you even twitch more than it’s comfortable with, it’ll grab you and drag you into the pool. Your nightmare.

Instead, it does something slightly less worse. It moves its hand from your mouth to your cheek. The palm of its hand warms your skin in an unnatural way, like you’ve been laying in the sun for half an hour and it’s only your cheek that heats up. The creature's eyes widen as light begins to emanate, either from you, or from it, you’re not sure, but definitely from where it touches you. Tingles run from your neck down to your spine, and you wish you’d put a bra on before going outside, because this thing’s touch is making your body react in a way that it shouldn’t.

“So easy,” it purrs appraisingly, somewhat less insolent, but you’re still taken aback, ears hot with embarrassment.

Un-fucking-likely.

“Easy?!” You squawk out. “What do you mean by easy?”

It doesn’t answer you, and instead, moves its fingers from your cheek, down your jaw, to your chin. It begins leaning closer, heavy lids closing. You notice its lips for the first time: a defined line and a pretty bow. If you were in a less dire situation, you’d be able to admit that they’re very nice lips, but they’re getting closer to you, closer still, and you realize with a jolt what it’s trying to do.

Your foot meets its chest in a heartbeat.

“Nope!” You belt out, extending your leg so there’s more distance between you and the impolite beast. “Not today, fish-breath!”

Unperturbed, it lifts a lazy brow. Then, to your absolute horror, it presses both of its hands into your bare leg, and again you’re lit up, warm, and tingly, only far worse than before. Stomach tightening, you make a choked noise, trying to hold in the sigh that claws at your throat.

“Fish-breath.” It repeats your insult like it’s a balled-up piece of paper to be thrown in the trash. “I’ve been told that my aroma is quite appealing.”

“By whom? Other fish-breaths?!” You wriggle your leg out of his embrace, or whatever you could call that invasion, only to have it slip down so your foot rests in the fish-man’s hands, bright as the stars in the sky. “Eww ew! Don’t touch me! Get away!”

The creature scoffs, but let’s you go, and you both watch as the light disappears from the arch of your foot where he’d been touching. Fish-man slinks back into the murky water, hiding under a blanket of algae.

You have enough time to gather your composure, wipe the water droplets off your face, and rub your eyes. For a moment, you try to convince yourself that this has all been a sleep-deprived hallucination, but you’ve never really been one to delude yourself, unless your Kirishima fantasies were involved, and you know that you’ll have to try another tactic to accept the reality of your situation. Perhaps you can try to be civil with this creature, ask it if it’s…hurt, or if it needs a late night escort to get it back to the sea. But then, the thing resurfaces on the opposite end of the pool. It faces you, and leans back against the wall, arms spread out against the pavement, basking.

“You know,” he says, “your decorum is severely lacking. Don’t humans have classes that teach them proper etiquette—how to be more polite towards their guests and such?”

What’s lacking is your patience for marine life.

Standing up, you take in the thing, which you’re now pretty sure is in fact a man of sorts, in its entirety. His tail is long, longer than human legs, extending past the halfway mark of the pool, if your measurement counts his fluke. There’s a golden cuff on his right arm that spirals around, accentuating his large biceps. You stubbornly admit that it’s attractive—he’s attractive, at least, he would be for people who were into fish and not surfers. You brush whatever you’re feeling in the pit of your stomach off by telling yourself that you’re simply awestruck, and move on.

“Where I’m from-“ you begin, straightening your sodden crop top- “we offer our guests various beverages and snacks, depending on the time of day.”

Annoyingly, he looks interested.

“Since it’s the morning, I’d offer a guest tea, or coffee, and if I’m looking to impress, I’d maybe cook them a hot meal.”

The creature offers you a sardonic smile. “I happen to be famished.”

“However, with home-invaders, we’re more likely to pull a gun on them before heating up the earl grey.”

He loses the smile, and you’re glad that he might have an inkling of what a gun is. You’ve never owned one, and they don’t allow firearms on the island, but the threat stands. But if he was intimidated, even for a moment, he doesn’t show it anymore, and proves just that by turning his back on you, and resting his head in his arms. He has a dorsal fin with what looks to be a deep, x-shaped scar near his tailbone. You try not to wonder what that could’ve been from.

“Then how do you propose I go from a home-invader, to a house guest?” Asks the creature with little interest.

Cautiously walking around the pool with your arms crossed, you begin to list things off for the far-too-comfortable fish-man.

“You can start by telling me who you are, what you are, why you’re here, what you want, and why you think you can lay your webbed hands on me.”

“Oh, is that all?” He hums noncommittally. Content. Aggravating. “Why don’t you start then? Who are you, and why are you here?”

The back of your neck grows hot and uncomfortable. “How entitled do you have to be to—!” You start, but you’re swiftly cut off by the shrieking of the fire alarm. Smoke plumes from outside the house’s windows, and you curse under your breath before darting towards the door. You’d completely forgotten about your eggs.

In your haste to move the pan off the stove, you burn your fingers and drop the pan to the kitchen floor, two blackened egg crisps flaking off and diving in different directions. Mango yowls at the commotion and investigates one of the fallen egg crisps. Before you can tell him to buzz off, he loses interest in your mess, not bothering to give it a taste. You don’t blame him, but the eggs didn’t appear to be cat-bad. Ah, you can’t kid yourself. They are cat-bad. They’re completely inedible. Now you’re going to have to head to the market, while worrying about a man trapped in Shuzenji’s pool.

Your stomach roars at you.

After cleaning the mess as best as you could while desperately and ruefully wanting to return to your guest—no, not guest—invader, you get the alarm, half-heartedly fan the smoke out of the house, and return. Angry. This guy better start talking soon, or things are going to get ugly.

To your utter displeasure, he looks all the more amused at your newer, messier state.

“Was that supposed to be the hot meal,” he asks, cocky. “Because if so, I’ll pass.”

Instead of biting his head off like you’d like to, you present him with the still-dirty frying pan, pointing it at his head like you intend to use it.

“Start talking, fish-for-brains.”

The beast snickers, raising his hands in the air in mock-surrender. “Easy there, tiger shark. You know how to use that thing?”

You refuse to humor him. Instead, you keep your scowl tight, your arms steady. If he’s not threatened, he’ll lose interest in this game, then he’ll have to talk.

Lo and behold, you’re right. The fish-man rolls his eyes, and looks at you, again, with apathy.

“My name is Hitoshi Shinsou,” he says, lackadaisical, like he’s already bored of himself. “I’m one of Ryūjin. What humans have learned to call merpeople are actually descendants of the sea gods who lived centuries ago. I’m here, simply because the storm washed me here. What I want is to retrieve what’s mine. I thought I could lay my webbed hands on you—well-“ the corner of his mouth tilts up-“darlin’, it was because your body reacted to me.”

Mouth forming the beginning of a question that never comes, you stare in disbelief at this myth. Then the last thing he said dawns at you.

“I did not react to you!” You rebuke, steady hands now shaking.

“Oh no?” He says, but it’s not a question. It’s a challenge.

Hitoshi grabs the flat end of the frying pan and yanks it, and you, closer to him, closer to the water. You cringe and whine when a wet, webby hand closes around your wrist. Inadvertently, you drop the pan, but he pays it no mind as it sinks past his tail. Your skin begins to glow underneath his palms, and the tingles come back, shooting up your arm, causing tiny goosebumps to appear.

“Would you look at that,” Hitoshi croons, slow and almost sensuously. His indigo eyes narrow on your index finger where you’d burned yourself. To add to this nightmare, he closes his lips around it, and begins to suck. Your stomach flips, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re disgusted, or scared, or…enjoying the feeling of his warm mouth, his tongue, touching your skin.

“Stop.” It’s a whisper. It means nothing. You think you want it to mean something, but your thoughts are buzzing into a blur. Knees growing weak, you descend, leaning closer to him, not caring about the water or the seaweed or the fish, and instead, entirely focused on his mouth. It’s glowing, his mouth. Faintly. Like a single candle lit in an otherwise empty room.

When he eases off of you, he runs his thumb over your now-healed finger, and let’s your arm fall limply at your side.

“All better,” he whispers back at you.

There are prickles all over your skin once you regain an ounce of dignity.

“What the hell was that?” You ask, breathless for no other reason than shock.

“The glowing?” He asks. “The healing?”

“Both.”

“Your reaction to me.” He’s cocky again. This is something sick. Mythical creature or not, this has got to be a game he plays, washing into people’s pools, causing problems, sucking on lonely girls’ fingers. He probably gets his kicks this way, and uses whatever other kind of magic he has to erase whoever he’s tormenting’s memories, if he doesn’t end up eating them when he’s done. Bogus.

You won’t let him get to you.

“Alright, Hitoshi Shinsou, how would you like me to get you back into the ocean? You healed my finger-“ although it’s essentially his fault you were burned to begin with, if you take into account the sequence of events-“so helping you out is the least that I can do.”

“I could use your help,” he muses lightly, turning his body back around to his chest and abdomen are turned towards the sun. You tell yourself not to stare like you know he probably wants you to. Though his eyes are closed, he peeps at you, sneaking a glance. “I don’t want to go back into the ocean, though. Not until I get what’s mine.”

With the might of a girl who just wants to go back inside and scroll through her phone, you swallow your bite, and ask, “what would that be?”

“Oh, this and that-“ he waves his hand around dismissively-“other things.”

With the might of a girl who just wants to go back inside and find another frying pan, you say, “alright, listen. Someone is on their way to the house to clean the pool. I don’t know what one of Ryūjin means, but I’m guessing people like you don’t always want to be discovered by people like us. So you either tell me what it is you need, or see how my pool guy reacts to a mermaid lounging around in my backyard! I wouldn’t put it against him to call the local news station. Get this place flooding with cameras. Does that sound like a pretty picture to you?”

Absolutely none of your threats penetrate Hitoshi’s cool nature. In fact, he laughs.

“When he gets here,” the merman drawls, knowing he’s got you hanging on every word, “invite him to swim.”

#bnha mermay #mermaid au #siren!shinsou #mermaid!hitoshi shinsou #hitoshi shinsou x reader #shinsou x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha imagines #bnha reader insert #reader insert #trident tale

767 notes · View notes

ground-riot-jack · 3 years

Text

Can I - Bakugou

guess who can’t keep up with a series but has hella ideas for one shots :)

summary: based off the song Can I by Kehlani, i literally love that song and I think of bakugou every time i hear it.

warnings: some smut (MDNI), cursing, teasing, cheating, mentions of sex

Your body drops down on to the bed as you try catching your breath. You look up at the man above you, also trying to catch his breath. He sits on his knees and lightly rubs your thighs.

“Your pussy should be illegal brat” He chuckles, moving to stand up.

You reached out and grab his bicep before he gets to far away.

“Don’t tell me we’re stopping at just one round? I want the sequel Katsuki” You tease, doing your best to keep the man in your bed. It wasn’t your fault he was a complete sex god and knew exactly how to make you come apart in minutes.

He bites his lip in contemplation, checking the time on his phone before shutting it off.

“Fine but i’ve gotta be outta here in 2 hours, so no more begging” He states, crawling back over you.

“You love it when I beg” You pull him in for a kiss and oust your hips back into him and just like that, you’re both launched back into a state of ecstasy for another couple hours, responsibilities put on the back burner once again.

———————

“Hey extras, what’d i miss” You say, plopping down at your friend groups lunch table.

“God you’re starting to sound like bakugou” Kaminari states rolling his eyes.

“Speaking of, where is he?” Mina asks

“Him and Ochako said they’d be a few minutes late, she’s talking to a teacher i think” Kirishima responds, taking a huge bite of food.

“So they’re official now?” Mina asks, causing the table to dive into gossip as usual. Everyone adding their opinions. You decided to keep some things to yourself but couldn’t hide the smugness you felt knowing what you and katsuki have.

The gossip session chimes down as the aforementioned couple approaches the table. We all talk and make weekend plans for a few minutes before Bakugou says he’s throwing a party at his place.

“You? You’re throwing a party? You’re actually gonna let tons of shitty idiots into your place? Hah ya right” You laugh at the idea.

“Using my words huh? Some might think you’re a little obsessed with me y/n?” Bakugou quips back.

“Oh please, everyone knows you’re madly in love with me and are too scared to confess” You chuckle.

Ochako stands up and walks away, taking her lunch tray with her. No one says anything but we all look to Bakugou.

“She’ll be fine” He grunts, mumbling about the pain in the ass he calls his girlfriend. Everyone moves on and begins talking about their outfits for the party.

“Why don’t you just tell your girlfriend that your single?” You smirk leaning closer to Katsuki.

“I don’t understand how everyone thinks you’re a sweet little angel, but really you’re a evil pornstar tryna fuck me every chance you get” He growls in your ear.

Ochako comes back with no lunch and a water bottle, sitting close to katsuki. You stand and pack up your mess.

“Alright bro, i gotta hit the library, game tonight?” You dap up all the boys in your group winking at Mina before leaving, putting a bit of extra swish in your hips, knowing who’s watching.

“How the fuck did you even meet her and why does she hang around?” Ochako spits at Bakugou.

“She’s one of the bros, relax” He rolls his eyes, moving to busy himself on his phone. He checks his notifications and sees a text from you.

shitty girl 🙄

You look stressed :( need head?

i know it’s ur fav

You’re being a little loud with your feelings baby

Fuck you, i’m coming over

He smiles locking his phone, he stands and throws his lunch away, telling his girlfriend some excuse about the gym before walking back to his room.

He pushes open his door and sees you laying in his bed on your stomach, reading a book while kicking your feet. He grabs your ankle and pulls you down to him. He flips you over and grabs your neck.

“You gonna be nice and quiet for me?” He immediately dips into your neck.

“No promises. Why’d you wear a white shirt? Just gonna be soaked through with my juices.” You smirk back.

“We’ll see about that.” He laughs, setting his phone on the bedside table.

“Making a sex tape Dynamight?”

“you bet your ass i am” He says his attention back on you.

——————

You and mina finish up your outfits and makeup, checking eachother to make sure you look your absolute best. You take an uber from Minas apartment to Bakugous, bottles in hand.

You knock on the door, and are greeted by bakugou in a black t-shirt, gold chain and jeans. It’s blows your mind how hot he can look in a simple outfit.

“Who the fuck are you” He jokes.

“Hi i’m Hell, nice to meet ya” You wink handing him the bottle and slipping in the door.

“You know you’re fucking with a demon, i want you on your best behavior tonight or else” Katsuki growls quietly in your ear as you stand in the kitchen making a drink.

“Anything to please you King Explosion Murder” You joke, walking away to join the rest of your friends.

You end up in the same place you’re always in when you party with bakugou, bent over the bathroom sink, brain melting at the pleasure.

“Fuck i’m close baby, where ya want me?” Bakugou grunts, pace never faltering.

“Inside me please” You cry out

“Fuck such a good little slut, want to make a daddy yea?” He groans while finishing. You both clean eachother up and head back to the party as normal as possible.

——————-

After a few hours, everyone has moved back to their respective homes. You couldn’t help but think about Katsuki, you’d gotten used to him being in your bed until you fell asleep, even if he was gone by the morning.

Your phone began to ring, pulling you out of your thoughts. It’s Bakugou.

“Hey Suki”

“Can I stop by?” He whispers

“why are you whispering?”

“Ochakos sleeping in my bed, can i please. Need to see you tonight”

“You’ve already seen me Suki, you can come over but, we can’t keep doing this” You sigh. He agrees then hangs up. Moments later there’s a light knock on your door. As soon as you open it, you’re swooped up in a kiss.

“I need you, not just in the sex way, but like I need you. I don’t want her, just wanted to make Deku jealous. Want you” He speaks in between kisses.

“Can we figure out the logistics after please Suki?” You beg.

“Of course baby, after” He pulls you down the hall and into the bed, beginning the same dance you’ve become so used too.

#bnha imagines #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugo imagine #mha bakugou #bakugou headcanons #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou smut

328 notes · View notes

shig-a-shig-ah · 3 years

Text

LAYING CLAIM

» pairing: dabi x fem!reader

» cw: dubcon, revoked consent, noncon (we’re going on a journey, okay?), rimming, anal fingering, anal sex, crying, gratuitously fanon characterization. 18+, minors DNI.

» a/n: Started this months and months ago, and since I’m finally getting around to wrapping some WIPs, I guess you can have it now. Thanks @thebiggergroove for beta-reading!

» wc: 5.3k

» ao3 mirror

Like my work? Support me on Ko-fi or request a commission.

The thing about Dabi is he's not usually a possessive guy. Fucking is fucking, as far as he's concerned—it doesn't really matter who is doing it with whom as long as everyone is getting off on it. But goddamn if there isn't something about you that makes him want to make you his.

And he's gotten that, more or less. It took some sweet talking and cajoling, and a few late nights where he made you come until you couldn't see straight, but you agreed not to go sleeping with anyone else. Sure, you've made him promise the same, but that's fine. Not that he's going to actually stop, of course, but he goes out on recruiting missions alone and he figures what you don't know won't hurt you.

That's all enough to satisfy him, at least for a little while. But then a few weeks pass and there it is again: that stupid jealousy and all those unbidden thoughts about the people you were with before him. People he knows. You never talk in too much detail about your past hookups, but he's not stupid, is all too aware that he's not the first one in this ragged band of miscreants that you've crawled into bed with. You've fucked Jin, and Shigaraki, and probably even Magne, god rest her soul—Dabi hadn't missed the way the two of you had huddled up giggling in the corner of the old bar one night, disappearing together unusually early, making those bedroom eyes at each other. And in theory that's fine. Nothing wrong with two girls having fun together, after all. Hell, bi chicks are hot and Dabi wouldn't mind taking advantage of that someday.

But first he needs to find a way to get the image of you with your legs spread for half the League out of his goddamn head.

If he's being honest, it's Shigaraki who bothers him the most. Magne is dead. Jin is a decent dude and, Dabi has to imagine, tame as a kitten in the sack. But Shigaraki, well...Dabi can tell just by looking at the guy that he's a freak, and the idea of you riding Shigaraki's dry, crusty dick, of letting him do who-knows-what filthy shit to you? It just gets to him.

And then Toga has to suggest that stupid game and go putting ideas in his head.

You're all sitting around the crumbling office space that passes for a hideout, drinking to celebrate the League's first successful double-amputation (because fuck that germophobic, transphobic prick), and blondie is just begging to play a drinking game. Normally Dabi doesn't go for that shit—why anyone needs an excuse to get wasted is beyond him—but he's in a good mood, and you make that adorable pouty face as you tell him that you played in college, that it's really fun, and somehow he finds himself sitting in a circle on the dusty floor with the rest of you losers playing 'I haven't' or whatever the fuck it's called.

It's all bland shit to start. Toga's never driven a car, Shigaraki's never gone to school. But, after you've made your way around the circle once, everyone seems to be loosening up and Spinner takes one for the team by getting to the interesting shit and admitting he's never slept with a girl. It spurs a moment of awkward silence made all the worse by his red face and obvious self-consciousness about being a virgin, but then Compress stage-whispers "Neither have I," before winking salaciously at the blushing lizard and taking a dramatic pull from his beer bottle. It's enough to lighten the mood.

After that, Dabi's forced to admit it's a decent game. There's not much he hasn't done sexually or criminally, and since those are the two topics everyone focuses on, he finds himself getting hammered faster than usual. It's a good thing too—his buzz makes it easier to ignore the look you and Shigaraki exchange when Jin announces that he's never tried watersports, easier to pretend his gut isn't twisting at the knowing smirk on your leader's face as he raises his beer bottle to drink and you follow suit.

That particular moment makes it all the more surprising when, on your next turn, you hide an embarrassed face behind your hand and announce that you've never taken it in the ass.

Dabi can't stop thinking about it the rest of the night. Obsessing over it, and the idea of being your first, your only, even if only in some less than conventional way. The thing is, it's downright tame in comparison to a lot of what you two get up to, so barely even kinky that it's almost impossible to believe you've never tried it. Sure, you've never done it together, but he'd just figured neither of you were all that into it, since it hadn't come up when you were doing lewd shit to each other.

That kind of sex is fine from his perspective, but only fine. He doesn't actively seek it out because in his mind nothing beats the feel of being balls-deep in a warm pussy, but that doesn't mean he hasn't done it. He's hooked up with plenty of girls that were into it and has always been happy to oblige; hell, he's even taken it more than once, on account of the fact that when it comes to the bedroom he's willing to try anything twice.

But doing it with you? Well, that thought sticks. The two of you finally go to bed and Dabi's so turned on by the idea of your virgin ass that he can't help testing the waters, prodding teasingly at that tight hole with one spit-slicked finger until you're squirming away and whining. He doesn't manage to convince you right then, but he makes those puppy dog eyes that are far more effective than they have any right to be, and you agree to give it a go in the future.

"Not here," you specify, the words fuzzy on your drunken tongue. "Someplace nicer, with a real bed." You already have your reservations, and you certainly don't relish the idea of undertaking that particular venture now, on a worn mattress in this falling apart building, with its paper-thin walls and complete lack of hot water. Between your booze-fueled haze and the seeming interminability of the League's poverty, you mostly forget about that casual promise by the following morning.

But Dabi doesn't. He picks up a small bottle of lube the next day and carries it around in his pocket shamelessly, a little reminder that he has something to look forward to besides roasting that prick Endeavor, and he strokes himself off to the idea more than he's proud to admit as he waits for the League to move on to better things. He can be patient, when he needs to be.

That patience takes a toll though, and the minute the League settles into their new digs in Re-Destro's sprawling villa, where there's actually privacy and clean, comfortable beds, Dabi shows up at your door with a cheshire grin and every intention of finally getting something from you that's just for him.

You grimace when you remember that promise, try briefly to talk him out of it even, but he isn't so easily dissuaded. It's made all the harder by the fact that you can't give him a specific reason why you've never tried it, beyond that it seems uncomfortable and you hadn't particularly enjoyed the couple instances when you'd allowed someone to slip a finger or two in there.

"C'mon, baby girl," Dabi coos, his breath hot in your ear as he pins you to the wall, working two unnaturally warm fingers into your cunt. "I'll make sure it's good for you. Be gentle, get you nice and warmed up first, all that sweet shit."

It really is unfair how persuasive he can be when he fixes those pleading turquoise eyes on you. The way the pads of his fingers are curling just right deep inside isn't helping either, and he teases you like that until you give in to his cajoling, though you still insist on waiting a couple nights so that you can do your research and make sure you're entirely prepared. Dabi demonstrates his appreciation by burying his face in your cunt and not surfacing for air until you've come three times and are begging for a break.

When the night finally arrives, Dabi's feeling positively giddy. He slips into your bedroom with a bottle of wine and a couple glasses he's brought, a little something to help you relax because he's a gentleman when he wants to be. It should be good booze too—he lifted it from Re-Destro's private stash, and he's certain baldy doesn't drink anything that costs less than ¥30,000. Of course, Re-Destro doesn't love sharing either, but the uptight prick is too scared of Shigaraki to complain about anything the League does. They all take advantage of that, because they can and because it's fun to watch him bite his tongue when they piss him off.

You don't make it easy for Dabi to focus on pouring the drinks though, not when you're reclining in that armchair by the window, freshly showered and fidgeting nervously. He was half-erect before he got here from just thinking about what he was going to do to you, and the sight of you acting like you're some blushing virgin spurs him all the way to rock-hard. By the time your glasses are close to empty, he's straining uncomfortably in his pants, and can't fight back his impatience any longer.

"What do you think, doll?" he murmurs, setting his glass to the side and standing up, shrugging his jacket off before leaning down to ghost his lips over your neck. "You ready to move this to the bed?"

The way you chew at your lower lip anxiously before nodding makes his dick throb.

You empty your glass with one final, large swallow, your heart racing as you rise. You know it's stupid—you and Dabi have fucked countless times and a lot of it hasn't exactly been vanilla—but it's been a long time since you've actually tried anything new. His obvious excitement doesn't help either, paradoxically; it leaves you fretting about what will happen if you're somehow bad at this, or if you can't take it and have to stop. You've never really worried about disappointing him before, but now the thought weighs acutely on your mind.

It's with halting steps that you approach the bed and then, when you can't realistically drag your feet any longer, you finally tug the nightgown you're wearing off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor to reveal what's underneath.

"Damn, baby girl," Dabi breathes, looking you up and down. You'd figured that since it was a special occasion you might as well dress up, donning a strappy bra and panties. They're little more than elaborate, crisscrossing pieces of lace, all white since he'd seemed so fixated on this pseudo-innocent, first-time act. His reaction doesn't disappoint, eyes lighting up as he stares at you hungrily.

You let yourself fall back on the bed, nestling against the many pillows. The look on his face has your stomach fluttering, and the wine has helped you to relax a bit despite your nerves, a pleasant warmth spreading throughout your body. It's joined by a different kind of heat when you feel the mattress dip beneath Dabi's weight as he positions himself over you, one knee resting between your thighs, just barely brushing against your center, a hint of what's to come.

"You look so good I could just eat you up," Dabi whispers hotly against your ear before tracing his lips over your jaw. Even though he wants to take his time, let himself savor this, it's taking every ounce of patience he has to keep the promise he made to get you worked up and ready for him, to not to tear those pretty bits of satin and lace off and have his way with you right then.

You whine eagerly when his mouth slants hungrily over yours, savoring the feel of those mismatched lips, the way the rough skin of the bottom one contrasts so deliciously with the top. Hot hands run over your sides as the kiss deepens, your tongues tangling together, and you moan against him.

When you finally break for air, Dabi moves his lips to your throat, his tongue lapping at your pulse before he sinks his teeth into you. He loves to mark you up, loves making sure everyone can see that you're indisputably his, and it's even hotter now that he knows he's going to fuck you in a way no one else has. You're shivering beneath him as he works, your hand tugging insistently at his hair, and Dabi lets out a low, throaty growl.

"Guess I'm not the only one who's eager, huh?"

Your hips tilt in response, pressing needily into his firm thigh, and Dabi can feel the skin on his cheeks straining against his staples as he grins. He traces one hand up over your ribs, cupping at your supple breasts, teasing your hardening nipple through the flimsy fabric of your bra. Those deft fingers work under the seam of your lingerie as he shifts his weight, increasing the pressure against your center while he pinches and tugs at the peaks of your breasts until you're whimpering, spreading slick along his leg even through your thin panties.

Dabi pulls away abruptly, rolling onto his back and tugging at you to change positions, shaking his head when you move to mount his hips.

"Come here, baby girl," he says, his tongue tracing over his bottom lip. "Like I said, I wanna eat you up."

The promise in those words sends a bolt of heat straight through your core as he guides you to straddle his face, hot breath tickling your inner thighs. One calloused thumb brushes your clit lightly through your underwear, blue eyes sparkling when your breath hitches at that soft touch. When he pulls that useless fabric to the side and runs his tongue over your already-damp slit, you shudder.

Dabi lets out a pleased groan at your reaction and gets to work more earnestly, lapping at your sensitive nub, licking and sucking until you're moaning and only then shifting a little so that he can lap at your insides, that same rough thumb replacing the pressure of his tongue on your clit. It strokes firm circles as he buries that hot, wet muscle inside you, the metal barbell there teasing your inner walls as you grind involuntarily against it. You can't help but whine when he withdraws it, but that disappointment is quickly replaced by you startling as that same wet muscle extends further back to tease at your puckered entrance.

"A-ah, Dabi, wait," you protest, your face heating up self-consciously almost at once.

Dabi pauses, shifting just enough to keep his reply from being muffled as one warm hand runs reassuringly up your thigh. "I don't think I can help myself, doll," he says, his slick-coated lips splitting into a wide grin, "you just taste too good."

That heat in your face worsens as he dives back in, not even waiting for you to respond before he's flexing his tongue to poke at that tight ring of muscle. You still try to squirm away, feeling unprepared for this. You hadn't even considered it among the possible activities were volunteering to participate in, but Dabi is holding you firmly in place with the hand not working at your clit, and when another whine of protest escapes you, it's weaker than the first. The foreign sensation of his tongue against your neglected hole has you hyperaware of the press of his thumb at your apex, and you can feel tension building in your core even as you writhe in embarrassment.

It's as though he knows, too, and you suppose maybe he does; after all, he's the one who's done this before. He thrusts his tongue a little deeper, rolling your clit between two hot fingers with enough pressure to cut off any further protests. A long moan is the only sound you can muster as you spill over the edge, your thighs clenching around his head and your hips jerking shakily as you ride out your climax with his tongue still buried obscenely in your rear.

Dabi's face is covered in your juices by the time he slides from between your thighs, and he wipes it away carelessly with one arm as he repositions you again, pinning you on your back and wasting no time peeling away your now-soaked panties. He grins at the sight of your glistening folds and swollen clit before stripping off most of his own clothes, kicking them unceremoniously to the side and relaxing between your legs, kissing at your still-trembling thighs.

He teases at your sensitive cunt with his fingers, coating them in your juices as you whimper. "Ready for a little more?" he asks, and you nod despite the fact that your cheeks are still burning from before and your stomach is knotting with nerves.

"Just...go slow, okay?"

"Of course, baby girl," he promises, "I told you I'd take good care of you." With that, he starts to work you open, dipping one finger into your tight hole just until he reaches the first knuckle, working it in and out slowly. His other hand toys at your clit, stroking and rolling that puffy nub again, making you mewl.

Dabi waits until you're relaxed before trying any more, pulling away from you just long enough to dig the lube from the pocket of his discarded pants, coating his fingers with it. He works that lone finger deeper this time, in and out until it's buried to the last knuckle.

The sensation is strange, but not entirely unpleasant; even if you think you'd rather have that finger curling in your cunt, the slight stretch is still adding to the faint throb already growing inside you, the one that worsens when his thumb returns to your apex.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Dabi growls when one well-placed stroke of his thumb has you clenching lightly around his finger. He ruts his hips against the sheets, trying vainly to find some relief for his aching member, but it's not enough—he needs to feel you, needs the vice-like grip clutching his fingers to be wrapped around his cock, and he needs it soon.

You feel him withdraw to add more lube, and then he's fingering you again, adding another digit to stretch you wider. It comes with a stab of discomfort when he forces his way past the second knuckle, and you reflexively try to pull back. "Dabi, that's too much."

He abandons his soothing attentions to your clit, one warm palm pressing you tight against the mattress to keep you in place, stroking soothingly at your hip. His breath tickles over your inner thigh as he chuckles softly. "If you can't take this, how are you ever gonna take me, hmm?" he says teasingly. "You're doing great, baby, just relax."

You will yourself to unclench, trying to picture Dabi's satisfied face once you're taking him, that adoring look he sometimes gives you, the one that you relish. Your efforts are only marginally effective, but Dabi keeps pushing deeper, fucking you slowly but insistently with those fingers, and when you don't complain again, his thumb returns to caressing your sex.

"That's a good girl." Dabi picks up the pace, cursing under his breath. "You're doing so good."

You're wriggling against his hand now, trying to increase the friction at your center, not quite minding the foreign sensation of his fingers and the uncanny fullness they bring so much now that there's heat thrumming in your core. "Y-yeah, like that," you pant encouragingly, and Dabi grins.

"That doing it for you?" he purrs. "Think you can take more?"

You start to shake your head—the stretch now feels like all you can handle—but Dabi's already adding a third slick finger, shoving it in with less restraint than before. You feel more than discomfort this time when three knuckles breach your asshole, and it quickly dampens the arousal that had been steadily building. "Dabi, slow down," you gasp.

"Aw, are you sure you can't handle it?" His blue eyes meet yours, pupils blown wide with arousal as he looks you over with the hungry gaze. "'Cause if I'm being honest, it feels like you're trying to suck me in. Like this greedy little hole wants to get fucked."

The huskiness of his voice sends a shiver down your spine, even as another whine of discomfort escapes you. For just a second his expression darkens slightly, but then he's slowing his movements, twisting his fingers instead of thrusting them in and out.

"Better?" he asks, and you think you catch an edge of impatience in his voice.

It is better though, a little at least, enough that you can focus on the way your cunt flutters every time his thumb strokes over your clit. So you just nod; it's not like this wasn't bound to be a little unpleasant at points, right?

Dabi's smile stretches wider, his thumb working faster. A mewl slips from between your lips and Dabi takes that as encouragement, his fingers resuming their persistent thrusts. It's still uncomfortable, though not quite as bad as when he started, and your teeth sink into your lower lip to bite back your complaints. You let your eyes fall closed instead, trying to focus on his attentions to your hooded nub, on the heat that's pooling in your lower belly. You're inching towards another release, and you let a hand lift to your breast, tweaking at the pebbled flesh of one nipple to help yourself along.

"D-dabi, I'm close," you stammer, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Yeah?" His movements speed up, his voice breathy and excited. "Do it, baby girl. Come for me and then I'm gonna fuck this tight little ass of yours."

You swallow hard, trying not to dwell on those words for now—you can tell you've loosened up more, tolerating the jab of his fingers, but his cock is substantially larger than those, all too intimidating. Thankfully, it's not hard to remain distracted, to focus only on your approaching peak.

Dabi can feel that orgasm rip through you when it hits, your asshole clenching around his fingers as you keen, and it's then that he reaches the limits of his patience. He needs you now, needs the thrill of burying himself in your tight ass and claiming you for his own, of reaching his own release deep inside and then watching his seed spill out afterwards. What a satisfying sight that will be.

He scrambles up from between your legs to catch your lips with his, fumbling his boxers off as his tongue invades your mouth. When he pulls away, his eyes are bright, needy. "Ready for me?" he asks.

You're not, not really, but you can see the fervor in his eyes, hear the urgency in his voice, and you convince yourself that he won't be able to work you open much more with his fingers no matter what. Your agreement doesn't matter anyway—he's already rolling you onto your side and slotting his chest against your back, his straining erection poking at the cleft between your thighs.

"Like this?" you ask, surprised by the choice of position.

"Just like this," he pants in your ear. His teeth nibble at your lobe as he slicks his cock generously with lube. "Want you spooned against me so I can see those cute faces you make, feel you squirming when you take me."

And fuck, when he slips one hand back down to finger your asshole one last time, it doesn't disappoint—your body ripples against him when that invasion catches you off guard, and he can see the way your lips part obscenely as you gasp at his touch. His fingers abandon your tight hole almost as quickly as they'd entered, and then Dabi is aligning himself with your entrance, using the last of his restraint not to slam his hips forward and bury himself inside with a single thrust.

You can feel the spongy head of his glans, and the slick coolness of the ring that adorns his tip, prodding at your rear. One of his arms worms its way under your side, his hand groping distractedly at your breasts as you tense in anticipation.

"Relax, baby girl," he murmurs, but he doesn't wait for you to even try. He's already slipping in, moving slowly until he encounters resistance an inch or so inside, and then pausing.

He has to struggle to keep his composure. Even like this, with not even the full head of his cock in your ass, his balls are tightening, just the thought of what he's doing nearly enough to send him over the brink. He waits until he's sure that won't happen and then starts moving, pushing insistently to work you open around his length with shallow thrusts.

"A-ah, Dabi, g-go easy," you stutter, already squirming. You can feel your body resisting the intrusion, so much larger than his fingers, and it aches slightly every time he tries to breach that inner ring.

"I am, baby, don't worry. I'll take care of you." His cheek is nuzzling against yours, his lips kissing and sucking wherever he can reach, but his motions don't change at all even as he murmurs so sweetly. He only slings one arm over your hips, toying lazily at your clit. That attention helps you relax, helps distract you a little, but it's not enough to prepare you for when he drives himself in further, finally surging past that taut band of muscle.

The invasion brings a sharp pain, one that has you crying out. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, your body reflexively contorting to try and escape the cause of that hurt, but his arms tighten around you, holding you in place as he continues to work himself deeper with every thrust.

"Dabi, that hurts." Your words are sharper this time as each stroke sends another unpleasant throb through your overstretched hole, but his only response is to plunge the fingers rubbing at your clit into your dripping cunt.

"Shh, you're doing great." He curls his fingers, stroking against that spongy spot deep inside. It makes you writhe, but that does nothing to address the pain between your legs as he fucks you.

"Dabi, don't, that's not helping, I—"

"It's okay, baby girl, you're taking me so well," Dabi coos. You'll adjust, he knows you will—you're usually up for anything, of course you can take this. And fuck, there's no way he can stop now, not when it's even better than he'd imagined—hotter and softer, your pillowy walls enveloping his length every time he plunges into you, the exquisite tightness of your entrance massaging his shaft with each thrust.

"I'm not— I don't— I don't want to do this anymore." You can hear the desperate edge in your voice now. Your heart is racing and there's a cold sweat forming on your skin as tears of pain and confusion start to leak down your cheeks. "Dabi, stop."

"Shh, shh, you're fine. You—fuck—you feel so amazing. 'S never been this good with anyone else, fuck."

"I don't care, I don't want this." You can't understand what's happening, why he's not listening. You twist your head to look at him, pleading with your eyes, but he's barely even focusing on you. His blue eyes are glazed and half-lidded as his lips wander over your shoulders and your neck, all the while murmuring those useless reassurances against your skin. You're thrashing now, your feet scrambling for purchase on the sheets as you try frantically to pull away, but he keeps his tight grip on you, one of his legs hooking around your own to hold you in place. "Dabi, I said stop!"

He shushes you again, rutting into you harshly, and a choked sob escapes you when he bottoms out inside you, his hips flush against your backside as you struggle against him. You feel sick to your stomach, and it only worsens when he pulls out until nothing but his tip remains, then drives himself back in with one agonizingly rough thrust.

You keep begging, pleading, wracking your brain and trying every past safe word you can recall, but he only continues to pound into you, his breathing erratic as he pants in your ear. "It's okay, baby. You're taking my cock like such a good girl. You're—ngh—making me feel so good."

The ache between your legs is diminishing slightly as you adjust to his girth, your body entirely unconcerned with whether you want that or not. He's still fingering your sopping cunt too, his palm grinding against your oversensitive clit with each plunge of his long digits, the lewd squelching sound of those attentions mingling with the sharp slap of his hips against your ass as he fucks you.

"You like this?" he asks, but you know he's not really asking. "You like knowing I'm the only one? That I'm making you mine, just mine, just like how it should be?"

"Dabi, stop. Please stop." Your appeals are feeble now, far more for yourself than for him as you continue to utter them between quiet sobs. Dabi's somewhere far away, awash in the tight heat of your ass and the satisfaction of finally staking his claim on you, aware of your supplications but not hearing them, not really.

You slump, still sobbing, and let him take what he wants. His attentions to your cunt have a coil tightening in your gut, but when your climax hits it's perfunctory and mechanical, no real pleasure to be found even as your hips jerk and your holes spasm, a joyless whine passing from your lips.

No real pleasure for you, at least. But fuck, the feel of you squeezing around his cock as you come is what Dabi has been waiting for, your insides massaging his length as though desperate for him to decorate your walls with his cum. It's a gift he's glad to grant—he rocks his hips more urgently, keeping his thrusts shallow now so that he's sure to get it all deep inside.

"Fuck," he groans against your neck. "Gonna make me come, baby girl. That what you want? Want me to fill you up?" You shake your head, but his movements are already growing spurtive and erratic, his grunts louder and throatier, and then you can feel his cock jerking inside you, a hot rush of cum flooding your guts.

Dabi doesn't stop then, either, keeps fucking his seed into you until he's softening, not quite able to work himself in and out of your tight, abused hole any longer, and only then does he finally pull out, a dribble of cum leaking obscenely down your thigh.

You're sniffling, drawing shaky breaths, and you try to pull away the moment his arms relax around you. They only tighten again, his lips planting soft kisses along your temple.

"Shh," he murmurs. The sound of his shushing makes you want to scream. One hand lifts to wipe at the tears on your cheeks. "You were so good, baby girl, there's no need to cry. You were fucking incredible." He means it too, doesn't think he's ever come so hard in his life as he did now, making you his.

Dabi can't wait to do it again.

#dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #mha dabi #bnha dabi #dabi #dabi smut #dabi fanfic #fanon dabi #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #bnha fanfic #bnha reader insert #reader insert #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: crying

867 notes · View notes

miekasa · 3 years

Note

any spare levi headcanons tonight????? 😁😁😁😁

Sure, why not, he is the love of my life after all. These are pretty random, and fit in some sort of generalized modern boyfriend au. Hopelessly domestic, as that is the nature of nearly everything I write for Levi, anyway. Also still terribly obsessed with the idea of him with a motorcycle, so there’s that.

He owns at least six black blazers. They’re nearly identical; slight differences in texture and cut, one with lapels, one that’s boldly all leather that you swear you’ve never seen him wear. They’re kind of his go-to staple, other than a sweater.

That being said, he doesn’t exclusively wear all black. His closet leans towards more neutrals, sure, but he’s not allergic to color. You might not catch him wearing neon orange on the average day, but he’s not averse to a nice shade of green, any shade of purple that suits his mood, even a softer pink.

He has towels and rags he sets aside especially for you when he comes over. He always washes them and put them back in place when you leave so that they’re ready to go for next time.

Claims to not have any attachment to the shows/dramas you watch, but he’s totally backseat watching. Halfway into every single series, he starts sitting down when you turn it on, and scoffs at dumb decisions the characters make.

He splurged on one of those frame TVs that look like a painting when they’re idle. It was a good investment in his opinion.

He doesn’t hate Starbucks drinks—there’s worse things out there in terms of quality of tea. What he despises about the establishment is the way they call out names for you to pick up your order. He’s learned that mobile order ahead is the way to go.

Has slippers for around the house, so consequently, you have slippers for walking around his house. He keeps both pairs (and a few extra for friends and guests) tucked neatly beside the door for easy access; yours always go next to his.

Does not understand the purpose of a robe. Buy him one tho and he will suddenly find an excuse to wear it: making breakfast, lounging around watching TV, doing some light cleaning and dusting. It’s comfy, alright, he can admit that much.

The little puppy you got him that he swore he was not going to warm up to now gets the royal treatment. The best doggie goods and treats, top rated shampoos, cutest drying towels, even a miniature couch he constructed just for the pup. They’re best friends, there’s no breaking that bond now.

Speaking of the puppy, affectionately named Captain, Levi can be found walking him every day shortly after work. They have a few different routes, but they always pass by the local vendors/market, who enthusiastically anticipate their appearance every day. Some of the older ladies running stands have even taken to bringing a few treats with them for Captain—after bundling up some goods for Levi, too, of course.

Captain also has a special doggy backpack Levi uses for when he’s on his motorcycle. If you follow anybody on TikTok in his area, you’re bound to see at least one video of the pup while Levi’s out riding. He’s become viral on social media without even knowing it.

(When you show him a video someone posted of him and Captain with well over 100k likes, and a million views, he only rolled his eyes. But remembers that particularly day; remembers the folks had a kid who politely asked to pet the dog, so he let him. He also maybe asks you to send the link to him).

On the subject of the motorcycle, there was a good few weeks he wouldn’t let you on it. Always found an excuse, a smart reply that was punctuated with gentle push on your forehead and calling you too clumsy for it. Later, you found out it’s because he’d ordered you a helmet; didn’t want to risk you riding without one.

He always keeps it in the storage compartment should he make a stop to pick you up while he’s riding; and he usually wears at least two layers to have a spare to wrap you in before you get on.

When he cooks, he always makes sure there’s enough for leftovers and/or to give you some later. He also bakes frequently, and at least once a week, he stops by with some kind of treat for you—“Trying out a new recipe, let me know if you think it’s missing anything.”

On the subject of food, he won’t police what you eat to annoying extent; he knows that not everybody has the time or will to make pasta from scratch like he does. But, he will smack your wrist if you consider ordering fast food when you’re over at this place. Give him 30 minutes and a single pan, he’ll make something much better than whatever you can find on Uber Eats.

Really, though, he doesn’t mean to obnoxious about the homemade food thing, it’s more habit for him. Growing up, he had to learn to be resourceful, so buying fast-food isn’t ever at the forefront of his mind. Cooking for you also turns out to be something somewhat intimate that he enjoys, so just let him.

Once bought an Apple Watch because he liked the look of them, it wasn’t insanely expensive like other high end watches, and it could connect to his other devices, so why not? A week later he returned it, the ping of his notifications were in one too many places for his liking.

You tried to convince him to keep it—“At least for when you’re jogging! It can track your activity and calories!”—but he clicks his teeth. He’ll survive without keeping track of them.

He learned the hard way that jogging with Captain is no good. His legs are too tiny and Levi ended up carrying the puppy the entire time. Captain is more of a walk dog… or ride on the back of his bike dog.

If you changed anything in his phone settings—like the ringtone for you contact, or the sound his keyboard makes—he wouldn’t go back in and try to figure out how to reset it. Unless it was something obnoxious, like adding an autocorrect shortcut to say something lewd.

He doesn’t really listen to music when he’s just walking. When he’s on a run, that’s fine, but he somewhat prefers to just… hear the environment around him when he’s on a stroll or a break from work. The only reason he’d have headphones on in public is to take a phone call, but even then, he’d prefer to wait until he’s somewhere more private.

He likes having you over at his apartment and has contemplated asking you to move in. He doesn’t want to rush anything, though, so he’s content with your sleepovers for now. (Though he really cannot fathom that you call them “sleepovers” like you’re 14. Please).

He speaks to his mother at least once a week, and she always asks about you. Levi tells her that you’re fine, gives her small updates about you, but Kuchel really just wants to know when the wedding is. He pretends to be busy whenever she starts asking and conveniently ends the call.

Occasionally, he’ll stop by and take you out for lunch. Depends on how much time he has during the day for himself, but he always enjoys sharing a meal with you.

Whenever you’re out with your friends drinking, Levi will pick you up. Even if you already told him that you’d Uber home; as soon as you text him that you’re going to leave soon, he’s already on his way.

He makes pretty good cocktails himself. Teases you for running his alcohol supply dry when the truth is he has more of your favorites in his cabinet than his own. He secretly likes the way you flirt with him when you’re tipsy.

You don’t always cuddle on top of each other when you sleep together. You can just lay by each other and that’s enough; but sometimes, you catch Levi turning towards you in his sleep, reaching for your hand. His body seems to search for yours subconsciously, and you swear there’s a hint of a smile on his sleeping face when you put your hand within reach.

Do not try to pay for dinner when you’re out with him. He’ll pull the “I’m going to use the restroom” move and pay the bill behind your back if he needs to. Open your own doors, maybe; pull out your own chairs, sure if you want; but not this.

He flosses very diligently every night. Mostly because he fucking hates the dentist, so if he takes the extra steps and is extra careful with his teeth, he doesn’t have to go as often, right?—Wrong, it’s the one time the roles are reversed, and you and Hange have to wrestle him into the doctor’s office.

On the flip side, if there are any doctors you routinely avoid and/or forget to schedule check ups for, fear not, because Levi will do it for you. He’ll drive you there, too—the only caveat being, that he usually doesn’t tell you where you’re going until you’re almost there. You think he’s doing the mysterious man surprise date thing and then boom, he’s pulling up to the ophthalmologist. Good luck.

He’s purchased a physical, paper copy of the news on every one of your anniversaries, birthdays, and other special occasions. He keeps them all neatly tucked away in a drawer. Sometimes, he looks back on them—sees what was happening in the world around you on that day. Maybe someday he’ll cut them up and bind them together in a book for you.

He doesn’t like having headphones in when you’re home with him, and preferred if you didn’t either—unless it was for work or school. He welcomes you to use his speakers and play your music aloud; he likes listening to what you listen to. If you look closely, you can catch him humming along or tapping his foot when he really likes a song.

Saves pictures you send him in an album in his camera roll. Occasionally can be found scrolling through them—particularly if you’ve been away on a trip, or he hasn’t gotten the chance to see you because of conflicting schedules.

He takes relatively short showers and doesn’t have a strong preference for the water temperature, so he lets you shower first. Unless you want him to join you, of course.

It’s not hard to tell when Levi wants you. He becomes noticeably more touchy, even if that margin isn’t too wide by anyone else’s standards; and he rarely tries to hide it. It only happens in the privacy of your apartments; but he’ll come on to you—leaning a bit further into conversations, a hand on your knee, a kind of cloudy look in his eyes.

Sometimes he forgoes the attempts at being subtle, just kisses you out the blue, carefully backs you up against the wall, puts his hands on your hips. He can be awfully direct when given the opportunity.

#anonymous #[dreamy sight] levi where art thou levi.......... i am yearning deeply #levi x reader #aot x reader #levi smut #levi fluff #snk x reader #aot imagines

324 notes · View notes

whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years

Note

ugh fuckkk that yan ej x dumb reader you wrote got me blushing so hard 😩 if it’s not too much trouble ,, could you please make a part two where ej takes y/n to his home and helps her settle in ? pls i’m literally so obsessed <333

On the - On the Floor, Instead of the Sofa

[Eyeless Jack X F!Reader]

[Warnings: slight language? I don't think I actually swore in this one. Again, none really]

[AN: these two are so fun to write]

Part 1 Part 3

“Well, we’re back home,” Jack says as he pushes open the door to the cabin he’s been staying in and considering home for the past, goodness, year or so? He tends to move locations every other year, and he must admit, he actually really likes this one. Tucked at the base of a mountain surrounded in scenic woods, there’s a lake just a little ways down, it’s perfect and secluded. Though, every now and then he gets some hikers who wander off the given trail, far, far off the given trail, and run right into his neck of the woods.

Jack pushes open the door after unlocking it and watches as you step inside, thanking him softly with a small smile. He can’t help but think how beautiful you look in the moonlight. After you step in, he gropes around for the light switch and then turns it on, watching as your face lights up with the room. “What?” He asks with a small chuckle.

You take over everything in the cute cabin and turn to him positively beaming. “This place is so adorable!” You finally answer before hurriedly leaving his side and flitting around the room and touching almost everything. The kitchen interests you the most, mainly because of how orderly it is. “Everything is so neat!” You observe as you open up some of the drawers. “Nothing like my mother and father’s house.”

Jack raises an eyebrow as he ensures the door is locked before finally slipping his hoodie off, thankful he can finally feel fresh air on his skin. He then tosses it to the sofa and pulls down his black shirt after it had ridden up to show some of his midriff. “Your old home?” He asks, looking to you with slight confusion.

See, when he first started looking into you, you were already living in college, in dorm, with some girl as your roommate. He’d briefly looked into your parents, your father being a blue collar worker and your mother in retail, nothing too special. He’d never found the time to visit your house because well, everything he needed to know about you was in your dorm, and he’d managed to slip in so many times without you knowing.

In truth, he had no idea how you passed your classes.

“Yeah, my old home,” you reply, a tinge of sadness in your tone as you sit down at the kitchen table. “It was… Not a good place,” you continue in that same soft tone before piping back up again. “But this place is! It’s really nice and clean and pretty and I don’t need to worry about nasty bugs in the night or living in a house that’s so overcrowded you feel like you’d get buried in it anymore!” You smile so brightly, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

And then Jack knows that he’s doing a good thing by taking you away from all of that. He furrows his brows as he closes the distance between you, watching as you shift on your chair to finally face him. His hands gently cup your cheeks. “No bugs here, promise.”

You smile warmly in response, hands reaching up to rest on top of his as he gingerly holds you. “Thanks,” you say.

Jack hums and presses a kiss to your forehead. “It’s nothing.” He then lets you go and round the table to the countertops. “Is there anything you want to drink? Water? Coffee? Hot chocolate?”

You shake your head before nodding vigorously. “Oh! Warm milk and honey, my grandmother used to make that for me when I was a kid, is that okay?” You give him a puppy dog face and Jack can’t find it in himself to say no.

In fact, he’s already at the fridge, pulling out a carton of milk and pouring some into a saucepan to heat up for you. “While I get this ready, you wanna check out your room?” He asks over his shoulder.

You’re blooming once again. “Of course! I wanna know what kinda cool place you have set up for me,” you say with a giggle.

“Down the hall and to the left, you’re right across from me.”

“Not with you?” You pout playfully before getting up and heading down the hall he’s pointed you down. It’s a little dark, and it makes you squint as you move cautiously until Jack mentions that it’s alright for you to turn the light on. Finally, now able to see, you turn to your left and see your room.

You twist the doorknob and open the room to see it’s pretty empty! There’s a nice bed, some sheets in your favorite colors, the scent of cinnamon chai and waist high dressers. You step inside after finding the light switch and see the room much more clearly now that there’s light. The drawers are pretty empty, but you feel you could ask Jack for some new ones and he’d bend in a heartbeat to do it for you. The room looks nice, but what doesn’t is the chain on the floor.

You roll your eyes and turn off the light to the room before stepping back out to meet Jack back in the kitchen. “What’s the chain for?” You ask as you slide back in the seat.

Jack finishes stirring the honey in and adds some cinnamon on top along with some chocolate shavings. “I was expecting you to fight me more, honestly,” he explains as he places the mug on the table for you. “But you’re so…”

“Easy?”

“What?”

“Easy - everyone says that about me.”

“Wh-What no?”

“Oh, but that’s okay because I am.”

“No, you’re not,” he resorts with a visible frown. “And even if you were, which you aren’t,” he emphasizes. “That’s not an insult or anything.”

“Then why are you treating it like one?”

He pauses before sitting down across from you, a slight narrowing of his eyes as he does so. “Huh.” He then shakes his head. “A-Anyways, my original thing, you’re much more… accepting - of this whole situation I’ve put you in that I don’t… I don’t really have an issue with you wandering freely around the house.”

You nod as you begin to sip from your drink before remarking how warm it is, then blowing on it to cool it off. “Am I a good girl?”

Jack breathily chuckles and pats the top of your head. “Yeah, you are, but! We do have some rules here. Yeah?”

You nod as you continue to sip from the mug.

“You can’t leave this house without me, don’t try to contact the outside world, no more contact with your family or friends, y’know, all that stuff,” he explains as he rests his elbows on the table.

You scoff with a small smile. “Duh. I meant besides the obvious?”

He chuckles again. “No phone or any tech.”

“Are you serious?” You whine slightly. “How am I gonna keep up with my shows and stuff?”

“Too much of a liability right now-”

“You’ve already established I’m not going anywhere,” you cut off. “What am I gonna do for fun here? Just read all day?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. There’s a TV here. Could always watch that with me,” he suggests.

And just like that, your worries about technology have been thrown out the window and traded for the television. Almost immediately after the words slip from his mouth, you’re up and rushing to the living room, just wanting to watch something. It’s not that you’re upset with Jack, you just really want to watch the television, and that’s it.

You’re up and out of the seat so much faster than he could have anticipated that it startles him. You grope around for the remote and finally find it behind you, on the coffee table, then take it and turn the thing on.

“Do you want this?” He asks from the kitchen as he gestures to your mug.

“Yes! Please bring it in here,” you smile as you flick through the channels looking for something fun to watch. You grumble when nothing interesting is on.

“It’s like, two in the morning, Princess,” Jack says as he carefully brings you mug to the coffee table before taking a seat on the sofa, wondering if you’ll hop up and join him. “Try channel zero. Sometimes they have cool things on late at night.”

You do as he suggests and are greeted to the image of a weird looking puppet with a handlebar mustache arguing with a ship called the ‘Laughing Stock.’ It’s not boring enough for you to change the channel, so you let it stay.

You once again bewilder Jack when you take a seat on the carpet in between the sofa and the coffee table, sipping on your drink and watching the odd show.

“You’re not gonna come up here?”

“Do I have to?”

“I guess not,” Jack murmurs to himself as he focuses on you while you still watch the program. “Are you sure? It’s more comfortable up here?”

“I’m fine down here, thanks,” you say with a smile, no hint of being facetious.

Minutes pass and you find yourself enthralled in the show. You’re comfortable where you’re at, and still make no motion to move.

Instead, Jack decides to join you on the floor, a little hesitantly, but he’s joining you regardless.

You smile as he gets situated on the floor next to you and do the unexpected once again. You lean into his warmth, allowing him to fumble for a moment and rest his arm over your shoulders. He’s so big and makes you feel secure, and you can’t help but feel sleepy under his grasp.

“Is this home now?” You ask with a small yawn, nuzzling into him and taking in his scent. He smells of pine and the autumn wind.

He nods slightly to not disturb you. “Yeah, this is home.”

#eyeless jack #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta #reader insert #x reader #ej #yandere #yandere eyeless jack #EJ’s biggest simp #conversations with a fish woman

243 notes · View notes

yesimwriting · 3 years

Text

Searing Starlight (chapter one)

SERIES SUMMARY: the most powerful inferni alive, raised to see herself as a god-in-the-making, the bastard of the barrel and his team, and a shadow summoner with a common goal. What could go wrong? The giant mass of darkness known as the shadow fold and y/n’s sense of humor.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Y/n is sent to hustle the Crow Club. Technically it’s not cheating, but Kaz Brekker isn’t the type to let people off on technicalities alone. Especially when the one that committed the offense could help him earn 1 million kruge.

a/n just a little something based on the show bc IM OBSESSED :)) --I’m planning on making this a series so if you want to be tagged let me know :)

The candles flicker as Kenya's palm makes contact with my face. I used to cry after he hit me; I used to run to Anya’s room for comfort and my energy would became so irritated I snuffed out all the candles in the church. Now, I just stand there. You get punished worse for showing fear. Gods fear nothing, and that’s what he wants from us--to turn into Gods so that the heavens will owe him.

“You risk us again and again!”

The yelling is worse than the stinging of the slap. I make a point of keeping my palms flat; the candles of the room flicker as if feeling my restraint. “Watch yourself or the tidemaker you’re so fond of will feel my wrath instead of you. At least when I bruise his face it doesn’t cost me a night of revenue.”

I want to point out that the men I trick in the pleasure district don’t care about bruises, but the reminder of Jace has me frozen in place. Jace is good. He doesn’t deserve this treatment. “It won’t happen again, Father Kenya.”

He nods once, unsatisfied but growing bored. “Disappear from my sight before my flesh wins and I forget to show you mercy.” Kenya turns sharply, watching Anya’s stoic expression. “Anya--we’re in need of funding, take these coins and triple it by morning.”

Anya’s lips part; I shake my head once, a subtle plea for her silence. “Father Kenya, y/n’s the most talented card player we have--if she comes with us we can bring five times what you’re going to give us.”

The promise Anya makes is that of a fool, but I know I’m capable of it. People are easy to read when they’re drunk, they’re easy to trick and lie to. And drunk people exude the clearest energy, something about their bluffing is as tangible as fog to me.

Kenya squeezes the drawstring bag between his violent fingers. He loathes me more than the others. He expects more from me. He’d lock me in the cellar if he could afford to. But he can’t--he knows what I’m capable of.

“Go somewhere in the Barrel--somewhere that doesn’t ask questions if the money is good.” Kenya looks at me, the bruises on my arms and cheeks. “Clean yourself up beforehand.”

I nod once, stomach rolling at the thought of going out and knotting at the thought of staying here. I keep my steps even as I approach Anya, grateful for the excuse to disappear behind the chapel’s doors.

----

This club is louder than most, boisterous men drinking constantly, slurring their words and leaning over bars. I only smile when someone’s looking, tugging on the dress Anya picked for me subconsciously.

“Relax, y/n,” Anya hums, “Men don’t understand they’re being hustled when someone pretty is the one swindling them, and you look hot.”

A particularly drunk man walks by slowly, eyes reflecting no shame as he blatantly rakes his gaze down my form. I shift uneasily. “That might be the problem.”

She tilts her head back, gaze focusing on the crow marking etched into the back wall of the club. A very strange and consistent crow theme in here. “Maybe you should keep the dress on until you run into Jace.”

The mention of Jace in that context leaves my face warm. “Wha--what?” Great. I’m sputtering. “Shut up!”

She laughs easily, “I’m only teasing--he’d probably ta--”

“Anya!”

Again, her laugh is loud and bright. “Kidding!” Before I can scorch her, she nods her head towards a gambling table. “An open seat--go, you know Kenya’ll have our heads if we don’t multiply this,” she tosses me the drawstring bag, I catch it awkwardly, “By five.”

There are a lot of things I’ve ruined--but I never mess up when it comes to gambling. We’re all entitled to our talents and mine are destruction and trickery. “I’ll have six times this amount before midnight.”

A little cocky, but it’s well deserved. I stroll up to the table easily, comforted by the fact that Anya’s only a few feet away.

“You’re playing this round?”

I smile politely, used to this kind of hesitance. “I think I’d like to try it.” The mock-hesitance in my voice burns coming up, but the dumber I seem the faster I make up my money. The rest of the participants snicker. Expected. I’m going to enjoy taking their money. “I can pay if that’s the issue.”

The sound of me fishing through the small bag of golden coins silences the men at a table. The man closest to me, the one with smooth brown skin and a smile I imagine has convinced many people to play into sins for him, leans forward slightly. I let him peek at the coins, the more they want my money the more they’ll believe my lies.

“How much to enter?”

A tall man snorts. I fight back the urge to glare.

“Three of those coins should do.” The boy next to me is decent enough to answer. I’ll steal from him least. “I’m Jesper.”

I’ve been to enough clubs to know when a man is attempting to find company for the night. I hope the playful niceness I see in him is real. “Kamil.” My sister’s name is salt water on my tongue.

The first game is easy enough to throw. The second, I have to work at a little more--their smugness is killing me. I pretend to be ready to step away from the table.

“Where are you going?”

I shrug at the stranger. “I shouldn’t lose any more money, my father won’t be happy with me as it is.”

The stranger leans forward, glancing at his chips. “We don’t want a girl like you in trouble at home--why don’t we up the stakes? You win this next hand, and you’ll win double what I did.” He pauses, eyeing my drawstring bag, “Of course--you’ll have to be willing to risk a matching sum.”

Awful odds. “Deep odds,” Jesper mumbles, “Consider cutting your losses.”

Jesper is a better person than the other men here. I almost feel bad he’s going to be losing any money. “One more game won’t kill me,” I smile as politely as I can manage, “Besides--my luck could be about to change and I’d never know.”

I hand the coins over to the dealer. I watch as the money is shuffled onto the center of the table, suppressing the grin of someone about to release her killshot. Ten minutes later, I’ve doubled what I’ve lost. The man who upped the bet is gaping, Jesper’s expression has shifted entirely, and everyone’s staring at me like I’ve shifted into another person entirely.

“Wow--luck really does change quickly here.” I’ve hooked them. They’ll want to play again, to prove that my victory was a fluke. “Do you guys want to play again? It only seems fair I give you a chance to win back everything you just lost since you did the same for me.”

Everyone’s quick to agree, but I’m quicker to win the second round. Some men look murderous, some look ready to play again, their egos incapable of handling defeat at my hands.

“You came in with a surprising amount of coins,” Jesper muses, reaching over to pick up a piece of gold that rolled towards him, “I hate to accuse you of counterfeiting, but one has to wonder.”

Typical. “I swear my money’s real.”

“Real money can take a bullet…” Is he going to shoot it...in doors? Jesper tosses the coin easily, letting it flip in the air before taking out a pistol and shooting it dead center in a movement so casually fluid and deadly I’m taken back.

The coin clatters onto the table, the bullet embedded into the precious metal. I eye it cautiously, beyond relieved that Kenya at least doesn’t lie. “T-told you.”

His eyebrows narrow as he reholsters his pistol. “About that, I guess you did.”

Jesper’s skepticism is a red flag. I need to get out of here before my winnings are taken from me and Kenya kills me or Jace for my failure. “I didn’t take you for such a sore loser.”

Before Jesper can respond, something black raps against the table once. “What did I tell you about loud noises at the table?”

Jesper’s gaze leaves mine immediately. “Sorry boss, just checking a swindler.”

He--he knows. I blink twice, forcing surprise to color my features. “Swindler?” I look between him and the man he called his boss. “N--no, it was just--luck. I played a hand, I lost some money, I played again and I won some money. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?”

“You only started winning after the stakes were raised--I’ve seen that tactic before and it’s not appreciated here.”

I swallow once, a pinch of dread making its way through my stomach. He had shot that coin with no hesitation--I didn’t even see him click off the safety. How dangerous is the man at my table? How dangerous is his boss? Everyone seemed to straighten at the sight of the stranger with the cane.

“There was no tactic--it was a game.”

The man I don’t know tears his gaze away from Jesper. “Someone like you shouldn’t even be here.”

He has a point--my demeanor doesn’t exactly scream someone who frequents establishments at the Barrel during the night. “I’m only here to keep my friend out of trouble.” A fair enough response. “And I played a game and someone can’t handle a loss.”

“You should have seen her bluff, I’ve met professional thieves that lie less fluently than her.”

At Jesper’s words, the stranger’s grip around his cane tightens. I imagine that beneath his gloves, the color of marred souls, his knuckles are white. “Who do you work for? Who sent a girl to invade my business?”

Who do I work for? No one that has any business with him. “What?” How self absorbed can one man be?

“If playing the fool didn’t get you through a card game--don’t think it will get you through this.”

What? Before I can question him, Anya grabs my shoulder, pulling me so that there’s a safer distance between me and the man.

“You’re an idiot,” her whisper is pointed, directed solely at me. “Of course you’d find trouble with Dirtyhands.” Did I hear that correctly? Dirtyhands--as in the Dirtyhands? I stare at her, eyes wide. How had I been so stupid? I should have recognized him from his gloves alone. Anya turns her head towards them. “We don’t want any trouble--forgive my friend, she’s not a spy she’s just an oblivious idiot.”

“Rude.”

She throws me a glare. “But she did win.” The money isn’t worth the trouble we’ll find trying to keep it but Kenya’s words follow us wherever we go. “We’ll take what we earned and never come back.”

“I don’t concede often.”

I reach for Anya’s arm, brushing her forearm in hopes of telling her things will be okay. Kaz Brekker may be feared, but we’re gods in the making. “Neither do we.”

He seems to want to play at an odd, power-filled standstill, but Anya and I are more desperate than him. Anya leans forward, ready to take the money from the table, but the unidentified man who upped the stakes earlier is quick to grab her forearm.

“I don’t take losses, little girl.”

Anya. I can only imagine the horror she feels when a strange man touches her. Screw precaution. “Is that money worth burning for?”

“Y/n.” Anya’s warning comes out low; Jesper raises an eyebrow. I guess being Kamil was short lived.

“Excuse me?”

The man will not intimidate me. Fear is a crutch men use to keep women in check. “You heard my question.” I hold up my hand, releasing enough energy to develop a flame in my palm. “And if your answer is ‘no’, I suggest you release my friend before your body is nothing more than a pile of ash your own mother wouldn’t even be able to identify.”

The stranger blinks, touches the gun on his hip, and then releases Anya’s arm.

“You can’t come into my club, hustle money away from my men, and walk away unscathed because you’re a grisha.”

Words cannot express how badly I do not want to speak to Kaz Brekker at any point in my life. His grip on his cane is a silent warning--a threat. But what is a man’s threat to a girl that’s meant to be a god? “You can kill me but I’ll use my dying breath to burn this entire building.” I’ve publicly backed him into a corner--I’m insane.

Dirtyhands opens his mouth to reply, anyone within earshot holding on for his next words. Anya yanks me back as the sound of something explosive interrupts the room. A bullet flies past directly where I was standing and strikes the wall behind me. Anya just saved my life. Someone just shot at me.

“Y/n, do you think it’s--”

“No.” It can’t be. There’s no way a soldier found me again. “It can’t be--we were--we’ve been careful--and Kenya said they wouldn’t look for me--that he purchased me fully.”

A man is moving through the crowd. A blue kefta. No. No.

Not here. Not now.

And why are they shooting at me? “Anya,” I breathe out as cautiously as possible, “Run and no matter what don’t turn around.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

Anya. Always the older sister. “They don’t want you--they want me.”

“You’re not a real Sun Summoner--it’s suicide for you.”

I don’t have the heart to tell Anya I don’t particularly care about my life. It’s never truly been mine anyway. “I’ll make it out.”

“You’re an inferni, not a miracle worker.”

My lips pull into an odd sort of grimace. The gentle kind one hopes is mistaken for a smile. “I thought we were meant to be gods.”

“A god can’t do what they want from you.” She mumbles. “So you’re capable of producing more fire than most--it’s not the same as creating light. It doesn’t matter how many drugs they pump into you it’s--”

I shake my head once, “Anya--go.”

“They want you to play Sun Summoner.” Dirtyhand’s tone is too smooth to trust. I know when someone’s trying to sell dreams that don’t exist. “The way they’ll have you do it will cost you, but the way I’ll have you do it will be practically painless.”

Is he always this confusing? “What?”

The question is an irritation, that’s apparent in the cold tint that takes over his practically blank expression. “I need a Sun Summoner for a business deal--and lucky for you I’m out of time.”

“You don’t want to work with me.”

“No,” his voice is dismissive, he didn’t understand I meant that as a warning, “But I need to have some form of mass light before sunrise.”

“The man I’m indentured to will never go for it.” Proposing such an idea would leave me with a broken rib again.

Dirtyhands nods once, a vague acknowledgement. “That’s not your problem.” I keep my jaw set, scanning at the crowd for a flash of that blue kefta. “After all, it wasn’t his problem when he hurt you.”

I had been careful to hide the bruises. The reminders of my humanity. My weaknesses, my failures, written onto my skin in purple and blue ink. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I didn’t until I got that reaction.” I’ve never so quickly felt the need to loathe someone. “It was easy enough to assume--young girl, desperate for money, a grisha powerful enough to be hunted down.”

Is that supposed to be some sort of consolation? “My freedom would never come so easily.”

“It wouldn’t be freedom--you’d owe me more than you already do for the kruge scam.”

I swallow before I can make the mistake of telling him I’d consider any escape from Kenya freedom. “Close enough.”

The grisha’s closer now, the light blue kefta so easy to spot amongst a sea of darkness. “You’re running out of time.”

“Can you get my friend out?”

“Y/n.” She can be mad for the rest of her life if she wants.

He nods his head once. “She’ll be out the back before anyone knows she was even here.”

“And she can take the money I won.” Maybe the income will be enough to spare her from Kenya’s wrath. “That’s a dealbreaker.”

Kaz Brekker hesitates. It’s such a normal pause I almost think it’s a trap. “If she takes it there will be no way out for you--you will do what I ask even if it endangers your life.”

“Y/n, it’s not worth it.”

I don’t look at Anya. “You have my word.”

“Y/n, I’m not taking anything and I’m not leaving you.”

I finally turn. “Don’t be a self-sacrificing idiot--it’s not in your nature and frankly it doesn’t suit you.” Acts of goodness towards me have always left me feeling raw. Too raw. Like I’m bleeding out. “Sorry, I just…” Anya’s eyes are soft. She knows. She always knows. “I’ll get through whatever it is he’s planning and I’ll come back.” I swallow once, nerve draining from my body slowly. “Take the money--Kenya will be angry enough as is.”

Anya drops her gaze as she collects from the table. It takes me a moment longer than it should to recognize this is shameful for her. I consider telling her that she’s doing the right thing, but that would burn her heart more.

“You’re my sister,” Anya’s voice is lower than it’s ever been, “I should have stopped him.”

Her guilt hurts more than the bruises. “You were as hurt as me--you have nothing to feel guilty about.”

This is already more emotion than we’re used to expressing when alone let alone around others. Anya stretches out an arm, squeezes my shoulder once, and then takes a step back. “I’ll see you again.”

“Yes,” I nod once.

“Jesper, take the girl out the back.” Turning forward blankly, Kaz begins to speak to me, “Hide behind the bar--my wraith will find you and take you somewhere else.”

“Y--you have a wraith?” And I thought Kenya was weird. He lets out a sigh. “Sorry. Not the time.”

“Desperation leads to bad decisions.”

Dramatic. “I agree.”

His gaze falls on me, taking in my narrow-eyed glare. There’s a moment in which I think the left corner of his mouth twitches upwards, but then he turns his head again. A trick of the light. “Go before you’re found and I’m out the money I let your friend take.”

Yes. I’m not exactly safe right now, but Kaz Brekker needs me for something. That means I will not be leaving this building. By force or willingly.

Silently, I turn, melting into those in the crowd that are either oblivious or don’t care enough to react to the cat and mouse game I’m currently in. When I reach the bar, I’m quick to duck behind it, pressing my back against shelves of alcohol.

383 notes · View notes