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fredwkong · 5 months

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Taking a Trip

Arne was more than excited to visit Vancouver for the first time. Everyone said that he could have easily seen beautiful mountains on a trip to Switzerland, but Arne wanted something a little bit extra inspiring on a continent he had never seen before. His life at home had become a little monotonous at his corporate job, and the dating pool was as unpromising as ever for a shy, reclusive man in his mid-20s.

With his frugal nature, Arne balked at the hotel prices in the city, and quickly found himself looking at short-term rental sites. The prices were, if possible, even worse. Finally, he followed a link to a retro-looking gay room-sharing website and saw an ad that read: “Shared room, accessible, perfect for tourists.” The price was well within Arne’s range, and it was within walking distance of transit. He booked it without a second thought.

It was only as the taxi drove away after dropping Arne and his suitcase on the curb that he had second thoughts. He followed the instructions the owner, Julian, had sent him and went around the small house to the back, where there was an external door to the basement. All around the door were skateboards, leaning on the concrete foundation, each with a unique design painted on its underside. As he knocked, Arne felt a tremor up his spine, like an anticipation of danger.

Before he could react in any way, he heard heavy feet and voices behind the door. With a clunk of the latch, the door swung open to reveal a young man with dark, curly hair and a thin moustache with no shirt on his tanned, muscular body. “What’s up, bro? You must be Arne,” he said in a deep, slow voice, holding out a big hand that engulfed Arne’s, even though they were the same size. “I’m Julian, your host.”

Arne opened his mouth to reply, but he lost his train of thought as an eye-watering stench poured off Julian’s bare, hairy muscles. He almost seemed to steam in the cold air. The smell was a mix of stale sweat, cooking spices, musky body odour, and, over all of it, the stench of weed.

After a moment, as Arne struggled to control the cough that threatened to burst out of him, Julian seemed to realise he was bare from the hips up. “Oh, sorry, bro,” he said, lazily backing away into the basement apartment. “I was, uh, busy.” He chuckled and moved away, grabbing a stained green shirt from an equally stained couch.

Reluctantly, Arne followed Julian through the doorway, and immediately realised that it was not only Julian who stank. The smell permeated the whole space, making Arne lightheaded. He wished that he had thought to bring air freshener in his luggage.

The basement suite was small, with low ceilings. Behind the couch was a counter to delineate the tiled kitchen, while in front of the couch was a low, beat-up table with a bong and other smoking paraphernalia scattered across it. To the side, a couple of doors led to what Arne hoped were the bedrooms and bathroom.

One door banged open, and another guy stumbled out into the living room. With a beanie over his dishevelled hair and his shirt on inside out, it was clear that he had dressed hurriedly. He looked over Arne with bloodshot eyes, his movements clumsy as he pulled on a thin jacket. “Hey man,” he grunted. As the man waved, another scent washed over Arne. This time, the skunk-smell was tempered with dried cum and a tangy, earthy flavour that hit the back of his throat.

“We lost track of time. Omar was just leaving.” At Julian’s gesture, Omar brushed past Arne and out the door. Arne turned to see him grab one of the skateboards leaning against the concrete stairs before the door shut behind him.

Arne was still shaking his head in an attempt to clear out Omar’s stench when Julian grabbed his bag. “In here, dude.”

Julian led Arne back through the door Omar had burst through into a room with two twin beds, exactly as small as Arne had feared. “Obvi, I won’t have guys over while you’re here, bro,” Julian said, handing Arne a spare key. “But if you like, we can always push the beds together for extra sleeping space.” He raised a lascivious eyebrow at Arne.

Blushing furiously, Arne made several aborted gestures. “Uh, no, no, no thank you,” he muttered, his accent thickening.

“Your loss, bro.” Julian raised both his arms to show his hairy armpits, posing as his musk assaulted Arne’s nostrils. “Just tell me if you change your mind, right? If you need me, I’ll prob-ly either be here smoking and painting, or over at the skate park, smoking and skating.”

Chuckling dumbly, Julian left the room. Moments later, while he sat on his bed and trying to work up the courage to leave, Arne’s nose was tickled by a waft of thick, numbing pot smoke.

It was just a few days, Arne reasoned. He’d be out all day anyway. He probably wouldn’t even see Julian that much, even if they did sleep in the same room. Plus, with a quick check of his bank balance, Arne knew that any alternative sleeping arrangements would be utterly impossible.

Arne forced himself to stay out late that night, exploring Davie Street, but his jet-lagged brain forced him back to the basement suite by midnight. Disheartened at the sight of a light on in the tiny ground-level window, he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

Julian was painting a skateboard in the living room, a half-smoked blunt in one hand. Not even the acrid smell of the paints and lacquer could overpower the stench of weed and musk in the tiny space. “Evenin’, bro,” Julian slurred as Arne blinked his eyes and tried to adjust to the thick, musky atmosphere. “Hey, come sit with me.”

“I have to go to sleep,” Arne protested, even as he walked to the spare seat on the couch and lowered himself into it. He remembered that he had resolved earlier not to touch the couch, since it was covered in who knew what kind of stains, but it was already done.

“No worries, this’ll help you sleep, bro,” Julian said, waving away Arne’s excuse with his blunt and then taking a deep pull off of it. He blew a stream of smoke into Arne’s face.

Arne spluttered. “Wh-what the hell!” He’d smoked a few times, but he was hardly a stoner. He could already feel a contact high working its way through his system, loosening his muscles and overwhelming him with sleepiness. For some reason, it also left his body feeling strangely tight.

“What design should I put on this board?” As he spoke, Julian leaned back on the couch and laid his arm across the back. Through the haze in his mind, Arne realised Julian was shirtless again, with musky sweat dripping down his sides from the bushes in his armpits.

Julian was still talking, something about dragons and complementary colours, and Arne just nodded along, too fixated on Julian’s body to care. He had never liked smelly guys, but something about Julian had Arne’s cock flooding his boxers with precum.

As Julian took another hit off his blunt, Arne realised that he could smell the salty tang of his precum in the air. Looking down, he could see a slick, spreading stain on his jeans. How long had he been sitting here? He thought that he should be embarrassed, but working up shame seemed like so much effort. He was so relaxed, sitting here on the couch, breathing in Julian’s sexy musk and clouds of pot smoke.

The rest of the night was a blur. Arne was so tired. He vaguely remembered Julian’s face looming over his, dripping sweat into Arne’s mouth. At some point, Arne thought he must have taken his shirt off because he got so warm and sweaty sitting on the couch. Finally, they had moved to the bedroom, where Julian had kept talking while Arne tried to calm his dripping cock enough to fall asleep.

Arne woke up slowly the next morning, cocooned in the scent of musk and weed. He started to roll over, but realised suddenly that there was a pair of sweaty arms around his chest. One of Julian’s fingers brushed across Arne’s bare nipple, and he moaned uncontrollably as a spark of pleasure shot to his slick, precum-smelling crotch.

His face burning with embarrassment, Arne carefully extricated himself from Julian’s bed and stumbled to the bathroom. He wondered why his body felt strange and top-heavy until he switched on the light. In the mirror, he saw a pair of massive pecs on top of his slender torso, the big nipples erect and pink.

Despite his horror, Arne still found himself feeling oddly horny. Looking further down, he saw an unfamiliar, half-hard cock between his bare legs—he had slept naked!—still leaking thick, clear precum that gathered in big drops before falling to the floor.

There was something seriously wrong with this apartment, and with Julian. Arne struggled to think, but the scent of his precum was quickly filling the little bathroom, making his head foggy. He had to…He had to…He had to touch his fat man tits.

Arne watched in the mirror as he popped his sweaty pecs, and then grabbed them with one hand. Not only were they real, they bounced hypnotically as he kneaded at the muscle. A finger brushed over his pert nipple, and Arne moaned again. His voice sounded strange. A little bit too deep, and slower than he was used to.

Would he feel even better if he pinched his nipple? As Arne went to grab his opposite nip, he struggled to remember what he had been thinking about. It had been something way more important than his bouncing pecs…

The thoughts dissolved as Arne started to tug on his sensitive nipple. He moaned loudly, his legs buckling as jolts of pleasure engulfed his body. The trickle of precum from his cock grew into a continuous stream as he knelt on the bathroom floor, mindlessly tugging on his pecs.

Arne barely noticed the bathroom door open until a pair of strong arms grabbed him under his shoulders and started to haul him to his feet. “No cumming yet, bro,” said Julian’s relaxed drawl next to his ear. “You’re not nearly done yet.”

By the time Julian handed Arne a plate of poptarts, Arne’s horniness had mostly faded back to a low hum, which spiked at the scent of Julian’s unwashed armpits. Arne wondered if he should feel embarrassed to be sat, naked, on Julian’s couch, his insistent cock still slowly leaking tangy precum onto the seat.

“Yesterday was a lot for you, huh bro?” Julian said through a mouthful of poptart. “I bet you just wanna stay here and hang out with me all day.”

Arne frowned. He was supposed to go to the suspension bridge today…No, that sounded like a lot of work. He’d much rather hang out with Julian. He had no idea why he’d thought Julian was gross or uncool. His smell was utterly intoxicating.

“What were you planning to do today?” Arne asked, after he’d eaten a few bites.

Julian shrugged, shedding runnels of sweat from his pits. “I was gonna go to the skate park and hang with some bros, but you need me more, bro.”

“What do you mean?” Arne was independent! He didn’t need Julian around! But it did feel nice to have someone hot and manly like Julian looking out for him, he realised.

“You can’t be left alone right now, bro.” Julian had finished his breakfast, and started to set up the bong on the coffee table. “So we’re gonna hang out, I’m gonna smoke, and then you’re gonna help me with some boards.”

Before long, Arne was floating comfortably, a little stoned from how much smoke billowed out of Julian’s sexy mouth. Julian got to work painting a skateboard, but after a few minutes he turned to look at Arne, a strange smile on his face.

“Come over and help me, bro.”

When Arne slid down to the floor next to Julian, his host raised one tanned, muscular arm. “I’m so sweaty, bro,” Julian said. Arne agreed, watching a rivulet of sweat emerge from the dark hair in Julian’s armpit, adding to the heady musk in the room. “If you could just, like, lick it up for me, I’ll be able to focus so much better.”

Arne frowned. That didn’t seem like it would help at all. But before he could protest, he felt a strong hand on the back of his head, and Julian was pushing him into his musky armpit.

The smell overpowered any of his protests. Julian’s musk was baked into his skin, and taking it straight from the source was far more intense than smelling him at range. The smell of sweat filled Arne’s mind, and he started to lick and suck at Julian’s armpit hair without realising it. The rank taste filled his mouth and trickled down his throat, and Arne felt his leaky cock start to flow again. He couldn’t imagine anything hotter than this. As Julian kept painting, he moaned whenever Arne’s tongue pushed against an especially sensitive spot.

As he laved his tongue over Julian’s tight belly button a while later—time didn’t really matter—Arne started to feel itchy all over his body. As he ran a hand over his arms, he felt the resistance of thick hair. All over his body, Arne felt long hair growing. Before long, his precum didn’t even fall onto the skin of his hairy thighs, it just got lost in the hair.

With his new fur, Arne found himself sweating at least as much as Julian in the heat of the little room. When Julian took a break from painting to grab some lunch, Arne noticed a new smell filling the air. He was emitting his own flavour of musk now, like Julian’s, but with a bit more of a richness to it from the precum dripping between his legs. He couldn’t help but give his armpits a sniff, licking up what he could reach of his own taste.

Julian returned and grinned at Arne. “Damn, bro, you’re almost ready.”

“What?” Arne looked up at Julian. It felt like he was seeing through a thick haze. It was so hard to think. He had to get outside and get some fresh air. But where were his clothes?

Julian held out a brownie for Arne. “Here, bro, this’ll help that brain of yours along. It’s my special blend.” He winked a dark eye, and Arne obediently took a bite of the brownie from Julian’s hand.

While Julian got back to his painting, Arne felt himself feeling slowly, but insistently, hornier. From licking up the sweat at the top of Julian’s back, he moved lower and lower, until he was licking at the very top of Julian’s musky asscrack. His cock felt iron-hard and huge against his thigh, a continuous stream of precum trickling into his sweaty leg hair.

Julian groaned. “Oh, bro, if you’re gonna get in there, let’s do it for real.” Putting the freshly finished board aside, Julian rose to his feet and pulled Arne up as well.

Arne felt so tall. The floor was so far away. All he could see was his hairy belly and thick, drippy cock as he followed Julian through the door to the bedroom. Then, all he could see was Julian, lying on his back with his legs hooked over Arne’s hairy shoulders. At last, Arne was back in a place that made sense, looking into Julian’s asscrack, licking up the musky sweat on his firm cheeks.

As his tongue dove into Julian’s hole, Arne remembered the first time they had skateboarded together. With his natural musk, it was hard for Arne to make friends with other skaters, but Julian had skated right up to him and invited him back to his place.

As he lined his cock up with Julian and rubbed his copious precum over the shaft, Arne remembered growing up in Vancouver. Dealing weed had been fun before legalisation, but now his job at the dispensary was pretty easy. Arne spent most of his time perfecting his skating tricks or smoking up with Julian or their other musky skater friends.

As he thrust against Julian’s prostate and felt the smaller man begin to tighten around him and cum, Arne remembered how much he loved his buddies. He was the big guy of the group, with his big, hairy muscles and fat, leaky cock. He wasn’t much of a thinker, but he’d do anything for Julian and his bros.

With that thought, Arne felt his balls tighten against him as he unloaded a huge, creamy load in Julian’s ass. As he shuddered, collapsing on top of his bro, there was a knock at the door.

“Fuuuuuck, that’s my next guest,” Julian groaned, whining a little as Arne pulled out. In addition to selling custom skateboards, Julian made extra cash by renting part of his room to gay tourists. Arne loved Julian’s musky, pot-smelling basement, so he thought that sharing the space a bit more was a great idea.

Julian pulled a pair of relatively clean sweatpants up his legs and wiped the worst of his cum off his chest with one of the shirts on the floor. “Just grab some clothes, bro,” he said over his shoulder as he shut the door behind himself.

As he pulled on his XL sweatpants and grabbed his hoodie, Arne listened to Julian introducing himself to this new guy. “What’s up, bro? You must be Yadu. I’m Julian, your host.” The spiel sounded strangely familiar. Careful to leave the hoodie unzipped so he wouldn’t stimulate his oversensitive nipples, and careless of Julian's cum slowly drying in his chest hair, Arne crammed a beanie over his hair and stepped into the living room.

A shrimpy African guy was looking in horror at the room, a small suitcase hanging from his weedy arm. Arne waved at him, and the guy looked like he was about to gag as a wave of Arne’s thick, precummy musk washed over him.

“Sorry, bro, we lost track of time.” Julian was pulling on a shirt in the kitchen. “Arne was just leaving.”

Nodding to Julian, Arne brushed past Yadu and headed out the door, grabbing his skateboard from where it was leaning against the wall. He had to go meet up with Omar at the skate park anyway.

This story is a belated holiday gift for @rakurairagnarok! Here's to a very sexy, transformative new year, my friend ;)

#male transformation #mental change #muscle tf #male tf #reality change #dumber tf #musk tf #stoner tf #all fwkong

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dira333 · 5 months

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Soul-Food - Osamu x Reader

Enemies to lovers - Requested by @notsochillnerd - with Atsumu as a terrible wingman who just wanted to check out his brothers' nemesis...

There is only one thing more annoying than Miya Osamu with his cooking talent, excellent marks, and unfairly good looks: his twin brother Atsumu.

“No.” You say again, arms filled with produce. He’s in your way and he’s not even sorry about it.

“Come oooon!” He whines, draping himself over the railing of the stairs as if this is a photoshoot for some perfume. “I’m so hungry! And Osamu won’t cook for me! I’ll even pay you!”

“Wow, now I want to do it even less, knowing you might not have paid me in the first place.” You snark, patience wearing thin.

“Now get out of my way, I need to get to my room.”

“To do what?” He steps to the side, but his face remains close to yours. You’re not the fastest as it is, even less when carrying that many vegetables.

“I need to cook.”

“Perfect.” His grin is so wide, it could split his face. “You cook, I’ll eat.”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

You hesitate, if only for a second. But Atsumu is like a shark and that was the single drop of blood that he needed.

Half an hour later he’s sitting at the little table in your apartment.

Your kitchen isn’t spacious, but equipped with everything you could possibly need - there’s a reason this school costs an arm and a leg each year. And Miya Osamu got the scholarship instead of you.

You wouldn’t have any problem with it if not for your father breathing down your neck. He’s got the money to send you here twice if he wanted to, but in his twisted mind, a 100% is barely a passing grade and you should have been able to win the scholarship, monetary status be damned.

“What are you making?” Atsumu asks from behind you.

“Udon.”

“Why is it black?”

“I’m using Sepia.”

“Why?”

“Because I can.” You snap back, hoping against hope that he will fall quiet. He doesn’t.

You’ve spent almost a year in a class with Osamu.

He might not always get a better mark than you, but he quickly figured out how much you hated it when he did. There’s nothing worse than someone else gloating over your loss.

The teachers love him and tolerate you.

So far they’ve been kind enough not to put the two of you into a group project, or maybe they just played it safe. The sheer bloodlust you feel when he grins in your direction must have tipped them off.

But this year is going to end soon and your teachers expect you to come up with a dish. Your own creation, not unlike the dish you had to make for your entry exam. This time, however, it’s supposed to showcase what you want to do, going forward.

You can’t bring the same thing you made for your entry exam, even though it was perfect and a delight - you made it roughly one hundred times before.

Your father has always been a fan of the Kaiseki Ryori and while you had loved taking part in the Haute Cuisine as a child, feeling grown up as you nibbled on tiny bites of expensive food, it has lost its appeal on you.

After all, there’s a set number of times you can eat a meal, even Chawanmushi, before you get sick of it.

“Hello? Are you still listening?” Nuisance number 2 asks behind you and you flinch, staring down at the dough that you kneaded for too long.

“What’s Osamu doing for his exam?” You ask, feeling a little guilty about your attempt at spying.

“Why do you want to know?”

Nevermind. Now you only feel annoyed.

“Just because. Maybe I want to talk about something other than you.”

You move to throw the dough out, only to be stopped by Atsumu’s voice.

“What are you doing?”

“I messed it up. It’s not going to taste good.”

“So what? I’m hungry.”

“You want to eat gross noodles?” You eye him warily, but he shrugs with a grin.

“It’s definitely going to be better than what I’d produce myself. But since I hate cooking, I’d probably just get takeout pizza anyway.”

“Aren’t you an athlete?”

“Yeah?”

“And they let you eat Pizza?”

“They don’t know. Or they don’t care. Whatever you like better. I mean, they gave me a list of stuff I should keep away from but that’s like, all the food I usually consume.”

“Here.” You pull out a pen and paper. “Write down what you eat in a day. Snacks included. And drinks.”

“Why?”

“If I have to endure your chatting, you might as well get something out of this. Now, shoo!”

You turn, lid of your composter already open when his voice reaches you.

“DON’T THROW AWAY THE DOUGH!”

“Fine!” You snap. “You can eat your disgusting noodles!”

They don’t taste that awful in the end, not with your delicate sauce with mussels and steamed broccoli that turned out so good Atsumu licks his plate clean.

You’d been part of the track club in Middle School, switched to Volleyball in High School because they had fewer practice hours per week. Your marks had always been more important than any side activities, your future as a part of Haute Cuisine decided before you could walk. But it had been fun, especially when Coach gathered you after practice to talk about the importance of self-care. How certain foods could make or break you. How important salt and minerals were for your body, how food was more than calories, protein, carbs, and fat.

You’re not even a little bit rusty when you scribble down a meal plan for him. You keep it easy and as cheap as possible, light on the cooking because you figured he must be the opposite of his twin in the kitchen if he came begging for food… You’re not sure if you’re buying his excuse of a brotherly fight, but you’re not ashamed to say that you didn’t mind him praising your food over Osamu’s. Suck that, Miya!

Meanwhile, Atsumu’s brows are pulled so high, they’re hiding behind his bangs.

“What’s that supposed to be?”

“Your new meal plan. You follow that, you’ll increase your stamina.”

“But it’s so much work.”

“It’s not.”

“It is.”

“Whatever.” You get up, throw the pen down at the table. Your patience has never been the best anyway.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He follows you to the sink but not to help with the dishes.

“You could cook for me.” He offers it like it’s a great deal. You snort.

“I bet there’s something you want. Something I could do for you…” He wiggles his brows now, looks disgustingly like Osamu when he got a better mark then you. And that kickstarts your brain.

“I want Osamu… I mean the recipe…You know, what Osamu made to get the scholarship. If you can get me that dish of him to try, I’ll cook for you.”

Atsumu grins in a way that doesn’t feel good but he nods.

“Alright, it’s a deal. You’ll cook for me and I get you the dish.” He holds out his hand to sign the deal but you’ve been the daughter of a cutthroat banker for too long to fall for that.

“I’ll cook for a week.” You tell him firmly and watch with a sick satisfaction as his face contorts. He looks awful when he’s pissed and there are definitely not enough moments of the Miya twins looking awful.

“Two weeks.

“One week, only dinner.”

“One week, lunch, dinner and snacks.”

“Are you insane?”

“Do you want Osamu’s food?”

There’s a moment of Silence, and you’re eyeing each other, calculating who’s bluffing and who’s not.

“Fine.” You huff eventually, because you feel it in your bones that trying that damned dish will get you a step closer to figuring out what you need to present for your Final.

You feel like a drug addict, going down the deep end, when Atsumu appears at your door one week later, carrying a Bento-Box wrapped in the cutest fabric you have ever seen.

“Are those little foxes?” You ask, eyeing the reddish-tinted animals on the grey fabric.

“What if ?” He asks back, nose up in the air.

“Jeez, I was just curious.” You snap back and muster him. He doesn’t look malnourished.

“What did you eat this week?”

“Why do you ask?” He sets the Bento-Box on your table and saunters into your kitchen, peering into the still empty pots and pans.

“You’re an awful liar.”

“Okay, so I told Samu that you cooked for me.” He throws his hands up in the air like you’re the one making a big fuss about things. “Told him it was fingerlickin’ good. Got him all angry and puffy.”

You are not ashamed to say that comment lifts you off your feet just a little bit. Hah!

“So?” You ask cooly, untying the Furoshiki with eager fingers.

“So he insisted that he would cook for me. Everything went according to plan, I pretended it wasn’t as good as your food until I asked for the dish he made for his entry exams.”

“Did you know what it was?” You ask as you lift the lid of the box.

“Maybe.” He says and you can hear in his voice that he knew. He probably didn’t tell you just to experience this.

“He made Onigiri?” You ask, your voice a little shrill.

You had made Chawanmushi, a dish literally to die for, practiced one hundred times, and he beat you with Onigiri?

“Try it.” He reaches for one of the Onigiri in the box and you slap his hand away.

“Mine!” You hiss angrily and his grin is almost feral.

“I’ll take a walk around the block then.” He jokes, moving toward the door. “Leave you alone with it.”

“Leave.” You wave him off. “I’ll make dinner later.”

“Half an hour.”

“Leave!” You huff and the door clicks shut behind him.

You bite into the first Onigiri and time stops for a second.

The rice is cooked to perfection, but you know the different varieties well. He must have splurged on this kind, bought from a boutique farmer of some sorts.

It’s filled with tuna and spring onion, but it tastes different then all the Tuna Onigiri you’ve had before. You write down all the different things you can taste, compare them to the knowledge you have but still - did he use a spice you don’t know? A combination you’re not familiar with?

The taste lingers, but you cannot put your finger on it. You feel a little weepy too, as if you had just watched your favorite movie from when you were a kid. You sniff and take the other Onigiri, bite into almost cautiously. It’s Tenmusu, your favorite kind of Onigiri.

This time, literal tears run down your cheeks. The shrimp is crisp, the sweet sauce calling you back to childhood, reminding you of the few free afternoons you got to spend with your mother, just the two of you, no work allowed. You only remember to write down the taste and ingredients when the last bite has disappeared and your hands leave the paper stained.

Well… You’re no closer to figuring out what to make for your finals, but you might be getting your period soon. Why else would you be moved to tears by food?

“Onigiri, huh?” You ask Osamu after class the next day. You can’t help yourself.

He looks up from his phone, surprise on his face. It’s ridiculous how good that makes him look.

“What about it?”

“I heard you made Onigiri for your Entry Exam.”

“Ah, yes.” He smiles, the kind of smile that makes you want to slap it off his face. “Tsumu told me he made you try it.”

You can feel your face go slack. WHAT?

“What did you think?” Osamu asks, way too confident for your taste. “Did you like them?”

You can’t decide between a huff and a snort and the sound that does come out reminds you more of a dying walruss.

“They were probably pitying you.” You point out, nose in the air. “I showed up with Kaiseki Ryori. I made Chawanmushi.”

“Ah.” Osamu sounds like he’s not sure what that is. But you’ve gone over that in class, he’s just messing with you.

“Well, when do I get to try it?”

You blink. “What?”

“Yeah, it’s only fair, right? After you tried mine.”

You swallow thickly, look around for some help, but you’re the only one’s still in the hallway.

“Fine.” You huff eventually, because he does have a point. “As long as I don’t have to eat it.”

His brows furrow and your mind unhelpfully supplies you with the information that his eyes are a different shade than Atsumu’s. Osamu’s eyes are almost as grey as his hair, reminding you of the sky outside.

His mouth moves and you blink, try to focus on his voice, but fail. Your collar feels too tight around your neck and you pull at it, too aware of Osamu’s eyes that flicker to your neck and stay there. God, what’s going on?”

“What did you say?” You ask in the most snooty voice you can manage. “I wasn’t listening.”

“Why do you cook something you don’t like?” He asks. “Don’t you enjoy cooking?”

Something snaps inside you like a rubberband that has been pulled taut for too long.

“Why do you care?” You sniff and he rolls his eyes.

“I was just asking.”

“Sure you were. But you’re psychological warfare doesn’t work on me! You can flutter your long eyelashes at someone else!”

Osamu laughs. “I wasn’t-”

“Neither was I. Well, are you coming or not?”

“Where?”

“You wanted to try my Chawanmushi!”

“Gesundheit.” You turn, not the least bit surprised to see Atsumu standing there. It’s lunchtime for him, he’s coming to collect his goods. “Or was that a codeword for something naughty?”

“Oh god, you’re awful.”

You know that the Chawanmushi has turned out as perfect as all the other times. You can tell by sight and smell, but you cannot bring yourself to try it.

The thought of it has you swallow back bile but you serve it to the brothers with the biggest smile you can manage.

“Here.” You present it in tiny, elegant bowls.

“Are you in pain?” Osamu asks and you drop the smile.

“Go f-”

“Why is it so tiny?” Atsumu asks, eyeing the bowl skeptically. “I’m hungry.”

“I made you Curry.” You tell him off. “This is just a tasting. You can’t eat full bowls with Kaiseki Ryori, you’d never manage that amount of food.”

“Don’t underestimate me.” Atsumu digs in, spoon clinking loudly against the bowl to the point you fear for its life.

He’s done with it before Osamu has even tasted his, still smelling the dish carefully, pulling the spoon through as if to check for clumps.

“It was fine.” Atsumu gives his mark as one would comment on an order of KFC. “Now, the Curry?”

You huff but don’t get up, eyes still trained on Osamu. Then, finally, he brings the spoon to his mouth. If you’re focusing a little too much on his full lips, that’s entirely because he’s the world's slowest eater at the moment and nothing else.

His face remains passive.

Cold sweat runs down your back as he slowly but surely finishes the dish and nods appraisingly.

“It was good.” Osamu says calmly. “The Curry?”

Breathing is a little hard at the moment, but you manage to get up, collect the bowls - you don’t throw them at the floor in a fit of rage and you’re very proud of yourself for that - and get them safely to the kitchen sink.

Your hands shake a little as you serve the Curry in three different plates, but if the boys notice, they don’t comment on it.

“I hope you like it.” Your voice is back to normal, your wounded heart tucked safely back into your chest. “It’s packed with protein and healthy vegetables to make sure you have all the necessary nutrients. You could eat this every day and wouldn’t have to worry about losing out on anything.”

Atsumu digs in without another word. He beams around the spoon, curses loudly.

“This is so good.” He says, mouth full.

“Pig.” Osamu announces next to him, puts the first spoon into his mouth and-

You can see it, in the widening of his eyes and the light blush that appears on the height of his unfairly sharp cheekbones. He likes it. He likes it very much.

You should probably feel a bit more upset about the fact that they insult your Chawanmushi but get high on your Curry, but then again, it just feels good to watch Osamu have the same reaction to your Curry that you had with his Onigiri.

“You should make this for the Exam.” Osamu points out in between a groan and another spoonful of Curry. “It’s amazing.”

“No!” Atsumu shakes his head, still speaks with his mouth full. “The Udon you made yesterday. That was crazy good.”

“What Udon?” Osamu’s voice has a tint to it you cannot place. Does he know about the Onigiri you tried but not about the deal itself? Is he jealous he didn’t get to try them?

“Okay, so she makes the Noodles herself, right? This time without the freaky black stuff-”

“Sepia,” you throw in but he ignores you, “But she used pork belly for the sauce and something creamy and mushrooms, I think-”

“Shiitake.”

“And I tell you, Samu, it was so so good! Like, it reminded me of Mom making that stew, you know? When Dad had that big sale thing and we got to celebrate it?”

Osamu’s eyes light up in a way that has you looking down at your food, heart thrumming in your chest like a hummingbird on speed.

“Can you-” He hesitates for a second. “Can you make me that?”

“I could.” You point out, not at all feeling the upper hand. You feel nervous instead as if this is a test or something worse. You swallow thickly, try to think of something to wager against it. Your mind is unhelpful at best, offering the possibility of a date - as if!

“If I get your recipe. For the Onigiri.”

Osamu’s mouth clicks shut. He blinks, clearly surprised. Then he grins, the kind of grin that tells you this isn’t going to work in your favor, at all.

“Sure. So, Udon tomorrow?”

“I was going to make Katsudon tomorrow.” You point out, pissed that he’s overthrowing your meal plan. Atsumu looks like he’s gotten a glimpse of heaven.

“Really?”

You hate to think about it, but the week is nearing its end and Osamu feels less like the devil and more like the dangerously cute boy from your class now. The dangerously cute boy who’s going to get a better mark than you, take the promised internship at one of Japan's leading five-star restaurants and laugh in your face if you don’t shape up right now.

Your father is as helpful as ever.

He’s currently obsessed with the Yakimono part of Kaiseki Ryori, taking you out to dinner each weekend only to try new variants that you should use for your Final Exam.

The food is good, there’s no denying that, but it lacks the emotional touch you had with the Onigiri.

The same Onigiri that you’ve made three times already. They never taste like Osamu’s.

You’re suspecting that he skipped on one ingredient in the recipe, the one thing you could not put your finger on when you tried them.

“Hey.” Atsumu’s waiting at your door when you return from coffee with your mother. She had been even less helpful, talking about the new dessert dish she was creating. You might have gotten her cooking skills, but you hate baking almost as much as Chawanmushi.

“I thought we said we would skip the cooking over the weekend.”

“Yeah, about that.” He lifts a heavy bag. “I wanted to ask for a favor.”

“I’m not setting for you.”

“Why would I- Never mind, I wanted to ask… Could you like, show me… how to cook?”

You blink in surprise.

“Why would I teach you that? Don’t you have your brother?”

“He’s not a good teacher.” Atsumu points out and you snort.

“So you want to learn how to cook? And stop harassing me and Osamu?”

“No, no, I will still harass the two of you for food, but it looked easy when you did it, so I thought you could teach me, maybe?”

“Fine.”

“I’m even pa- Fine? Oh, wow, that was easy.”

“If I can ask you some questions in turn without you judging me?”

“Me, judging someone? Never.” He puts a hand on his chest, probably aiming for his heart, but he’s now swearing on his left ribcage.

You watch like a Hawk as Atsumu prepares the Omurice. He’s got a bad habit of getting distracted, but he’s not a bad student.

“So…” You swallow your nerves. “You and Osamu used to play Volleyball together, right?”

“Yeah. He could have gone Pro, like me. But he said…” He raises his hands to make air quotes and lowers his voice into a deeper pitch to mock Osamu, “Skillswise I'm just as good as you. But I think that, when all's said and done, you love volleyball just a teensy bit more than me.”

“And you were okay with that?”

“Nah.” Atsumu flips the Omurice onto a plate and hands it over to you. “Try.”

“It’s good.” You hand it back to him. “Eat.”

When Atsumu leaves, you’re left with even more questions than before.

What does it mean to love something so much you’re willing to pass up something good?

Atsumu is making good money as a Pro, even now. But Osamu had no idea if he was going to make it into this school until he tried.

And why did he make freaking Onigiri?

Midnight has come and gone when you put a jacket over your sleepshirt and slip out of your apartment in nothing but booty shorts and bunny slippers.

You’re not sure if there’s a nightguard. There might be, this is still a mixed dorm filled with hormonal teens and tweens.

Even though you’ve never been to Osamu’s place before, you know the route by heart. You had memorized it in a childish fit when you realized his room was just below the fire escape.

You wouldn’t allow him to survive you in case of an emergency.

You knock twice before you can hear movement. The door opens and you almost swallow your tongue.

His hair is in disarray as if he’d dragged his hands through it all night and there’s the imprint of his pillow left on his cheek. He’s topless and you keep your eyes trained on the imprint on his cheek as if you don’t notice his happy trail or his still well-trained abs.

He blinks slowly and yawns.

“What’s up?” He asks. Something moves over his face, quick like a sparrow. “Shit, are you hurt? Did something happen?!”

“No, no, I… Shit, I don’t know, I-”

“Come in.” He pulls you inside, but he calculates wrong, uses too much force for your quivering body. You end up mushed against his chest, face plant right into the warm skin.

If you die like this, you won’t even be mad about it.

“Shit, sorry.” He grabs you and puts you at a distance again, blush high on his cheeks.

“Your Onigiri.” You start, before he can realize that you’re flustered too. “You didn’t list all the ingredients.”

“I did.”

“Did not. They don’t taste the same.”

“Ah.” He makes that insufferable sound like he knows everything you don’t.

You want to poke his abs, but you decide against it, mainly because it would make you look weird. But they do look ni-

“Tea?” He asks and you hold your right hand with your left, just in case it turns sentient.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Your Onigiri don’t taste like mine, because I make them for someone.”

“What?”

“The Tuna one.” He looks at the kettle instead of you, but his voice is wistful, distant. “I always make that one for Tsumu.”

“And the Tenmusu?”

“It’s my Mom’s favorite.” He says softly and you can’t help it, but you start to cry.

“Your Mom likes Tenmusu too?”

“Ah, shit, don’t tell me- Wait, here, take this…” He hands you a tissue to blow your nose and dry your tears.

“So you’re saying your secret ingredient is love? You’re really going to stand there and make me believe that you got the scholarship because you put love in your food?”

He shrugs. “You don’t have to believe me. But there’s a reason your Chawanmushi did not taste as good as your Curry.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“Gladly.” He smirks at you and this time your hand is faster than your mind, pointer finger digging into the firm muscle of his right pectoral.

“Don’t mess with me.”

“Why not?” His face moves closer to you, or did you move closer to his? “Isn’t it fun?”

Whoever moved first doesn’t matter now as his breath washes over you. His eyes skip to your lips and you lick them, no thoughts left in your brain.

Behind him, the kettle whistles, signaling that the water’s cooking, but neither of you moves.

This could end very badly, or very great, however you want to look at it.

Your mind, helpful as ever, comes up with a sentence that just slips out of your mouth unprompted.

“Atsumu said that you loved Volleyball a little-”

He draws back the moment he hears you speak, face now closed like a window that has let down its shutters.

“Right, Atsumu.” He says, interrupting you. “You should get back to the bed.”

“But the tea…”

“I forgot.” He takes the kettle off the stove. “I was going to make a hot water bottle for myself. Sorry.”

Somehow, somewhere, you took a wrong turn.

Maybe it was when you started liking Osamu, in this weird way that has you enjoy the bickering and the competitiveness. Maybe it was even before that, when you let Atsumu get away with his needling, fed him Udon instead of throwing him out.

Or maybe it was even before that, when you didn’t put up a fight everytime your father decided for you, when your mother put work before spending time with you.

It’s a good thing that Finals are right around the corner.

You can’t focus in most classes, left staring holes into Osamu’s back.

Atsumu’s stopped showing up himself, probably now a master in cooking for himself. Or he’s gone back to Osamu, to fantastic Onigiri and whatever else he knows how to make.

Four days before the Final, someone bangs on your door.

“Jeez, I’m coming.” You pull the door open to reveal Atsumu, soaked and clearly pissed..

“You okay?” You ask. “Or do you need a towel?”

“Why are you not a couple?” He asks back. “Like, the tension was there, you were practically undressing each other at the table - in front of me, might I add - and yet you’re not even speaking to each other? I even cooked all my meals these past weeks in the hopes of hearing good news but Samu’s acting like a bug crawled up his ass and died.”

“What are you even talking abou-”

“Oh, don’t fool me.” He steps inside and moves toward your bathroom without asking. “I just ran here because all I get from Samu are cryptic messages. Did you say something?”

“No, I-”

“Spill.” Atsumu points at the kitchentable, hesitates for a second, then he points at the kitchen itself. “Make some food while your at it. Also, can I have some change of clothes?”

You make Okayu with ginger and honey, the rice porridge a comfort to your heart and a boost to Atsumu’s immune system.

It’s not a long tale. It could be, probably, but you refuse to go into more detail than necessary. Atsumu might be kind of a friend, in his weird, annoying way, but he’s still Osamu’s twin brother.

“I’m gonna go talk to him.” He grabs the bag with his clothes and stalks off, dressed in one of your oversized hoodies and bright pink pajama pants, both things slightly too short on him.

“Give him a chance when he comes back,” are his parting words.

But Osamu does not show up.

Neither does he the next morning in class.

One of the teachers calls you over after class.

“You and Miya-san are pretty close, right?” She starts, speaks on while you’re still trying not to choke on your spit. “Could you bring him the notes from today? He called in sick. Tell him to take care and rest, so that he can take part in the Final.”

“I-I will.”

You end up in your own room instead, debating if you should just leave everything in front of his door and run. If he’s not at the final, you automatically win. But that’s not a win you’d feel good about, if you’re being honest to yourself.

Before you know it, you find yourself making Oyaku again, with Ginger and Honey, the one food that always gives you comfort and boosts your health. The process is simple, but it still calms you down every time. When it’s done, you look down at two portions and know what to do.

“Osamu?” The door is closed, but you can hear faint shuffling behind it. “I made you Oyaku. I heard you’re sick and got your notes from the teachers. I didn’t tell them that I’m a friend of yours, but she was convinced of it and didn’t let me change her mind. But I… we kinda are friends, right?” You feel so weird talking to the closed door.

“Even if you don’t like me, we got to keep up the reputation. Eat the Oyaku, okay? Winning doesn’t feel the same if you kick yourself out of the game.”

You put everything in front of his door and leave, lingering at the end of the hallway, just out of sight, until you hear his door. When you look back, the Oyaku is gone and all you have to do is wait.

Osamu is already outside when you step out of the classroom.

“Already finished?”

“Onigiri doesn’t take that long to make.”

“Ah, right.” You nod, don’t know if you should avoid his gaze or follow your instinct and look a bit more closely. He sounds healthy at least.

“What did you make?” His voice is gruff when he asks.

“Ginger Honey Oyaku.” You answer, voice soft. “Which might confuse the teachers because I had all the ingredients ready for honey-glazed pork belly but I decided against it at the last second.”

“I’d have loved to try that pork belly.” Osamu sighs dreamily. “But that Oyaku was so good. I could eat that everyday and never get tired of it.”

“Same.” You smile but it falters when you feel his eyes on you and you know you’ve got to say it. “I made it for you.”

“Yeah, I know-”

“No, what you said… about the Entry Exam.” You can feel your heartbeat, like the fluttering of hummingbird wings. If you’re going to pass out during your confession, you’re going to kill Osamu for it.

Behind you, the door opens and two more students step out. Osamu looks at them and back at you and you nod, point down the hallway. “Let’s take a walk?”

There’s a broom closet not far down and you slip inside only to regret it seconds later. There’s barely enough space for the two of you, his breath washing over you as you try to focus on the words you need to say. Out loud, so he can hear them too.

“I want to beat you.” You can hear him snort, but you keep your gaze on your hands. You won’t be able to speak if you look into his eyes. “But you’re also really funny and caring and cute, in a way. I could see myself, I mean, I already, you know-”

“What about Tsumu?” He asks, voice strangely hoarse.

“What about him?”

“Don’t you like him more? You don’t feel the need to beat him every two seconds, right?”

You roll your eyes and groan.

“Seriously? The best thing about Atsumu is that he looks kinda like you.”

If you had wanted to say more - you didn’t, but you hate letting anyone else have the last word - it leaves your mind the second his lips press onto yours.

Your mind’s not yet caught up, but your body is, hands dragging through his hair to pull him closer, to marvel at the softness of it - what conditioner is he using? - to have him a little closer.

His hands are on your hip, your back, roam over your shoulders, leaving warm trails and goosebumps behind.

Then there’s bright light and a shrill shriek and you burst away from each other only to face one of your teachers.

“What? The indecency! During an exam no less! Detention! Detention!” Her garbled words don’t make much sense, but the last word you understand.

Osamu sends you a look, his eyes speaking of little guilt and a promise to continue this latter. You can’t help but feel the same.

As it turns out, Detention automatically overrules your exceptional Exam marks. Neither of you wins the internship. Neither of you cares.

Osamu had applied to an Onigiri shop not far from the school as a second option and with your last name you have no trouble securing an internship with a well-known nutritionist for Pro Athletes.

Your father is not happy about your change in dreams, but when you explain the earning capacity of this position, and the business plan you’re already halfway through making, your excitement swaps over.

Your mother, as usual, barely listens. But you take it in stride, her usual droning on about a recipe she’s working on, by thinking about how in less than an hour, you’ll see Osamu again.

“You guys owe me.” Atsumu declares during Movie night. He’s perched on the edge of the couch, the last piece of the Pizza in his hands. “I’m talking about food for life.”

“We could have done it without you,” Osamu insists, arm around you, face nuzzled into your hair. He pretends he’s watching the movie, but you know better. He’s been thinking about the cheese crackers in your pantry for hours.

“If I hadn’t pulled you out in the rain to talk things through, you wouldn’t have gotten sick and your girlfriend wouldn’t have made Oyaku for you! That’s enough reason for you to love me forever!”

“If you hadn’t interfered he wouldn’t have had to think we were dating instead.” You point out and dig your hands into Osamu’s grip on your arms, moving away from him.

“Babe, what-” He starts but you nod in the direction of your pantry. “Get the crackers. I can’t watch you any longer.”

“Really?” His face lights up like a child in front of a Christmas tree. It’s worth the ridiculous price you paid for the crackers.

“Really.”

He kisses you and the moment could be perfect. But there’s still Atsumu, fake gagging in the background.

My Kofi if you want to tip me

#I loved writing the banter #hope this is something good #my writing #osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x you #haikyuu drabbles #hq x reader #miya osamu #miya twins #miya atsumu #osamu fluff #osamu drabble

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frootloopscos · 1 month

Note

Hi! Could you do Octavinelle with a s/o that LOVES exploring? Like one day they’ll be hanging out with them and casually mention how they found a secret society within a cave system during that week they just disappeared and no one knew where they were

DHDIDJWOCNEINC MY FIRST ASK! Hi anon! Ofc!

Taglist: @naompspsps

———————

Octivanelle with a S/O who loves exploring!

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul learned rather quickly after you had disappeared many times before this incident that you liked to explore Twisted Wonderland as it was a new world to you after all. However what concerned him was then you wouldn’t give him any warning before going on your little excursions. When you come back to him with your uniform ripped, skin scuffed, and hair a mess you best expect him to worry over you before becoming clingy as you recount to him your stories.

Azul was cleaning the cut you had gotten on your cheek as you told him of your latest journey. “Oh yeah! While exploring this time I found this weird secret society!” You say to him excitedly causing your boyfriend to pause and look at you in bewilderment. “I’m sorry, you what?” You only giggle in response and shrug before giving him a kiss on the forehead. “Thanks for cleaning me up again bubs.” Azul looks away in embarrassment as you notice his cheeks tint blue.

Jade Leech

Let’s be honest, Jade would likely be going with you for every exploration you go on. However in this case let’s say you disappeared without him being able to join you on your excursion this time. When you return from these rare trips that he doesn’t go on with you he makes sure to get you a decent meal and allows you to shower in Octavinelle’s dorm, let’s be honest you’re wearing his clothes which are absolutely too big for you as you tell him of your journey while eating.

You sit across from your boyfriend as you eat the mushroom risotto that he had made for you while you showered and cleaned yourself up. “Oh yeah! I found a weird secret society in these tunnels I was exploring.” You tell him with a smile, “they gave me some ingredients they use for cooking, they’re in my bag you can have them!” Jade simply smiles looking at you lovingly as you explain.

Floyd Leech

Floyd unlike his twin isnt going on these adventures with you, however he will provide you with shoes as they are one of his special interests. When you return to him you best expect a very clingy eel to be attached to you. Whining about how you left him again and that you’re mean.

“Shrimpyyyyyy!!” Floyd yelled as you opened Ramshackle’s door, he tackled you to the floor squeezing you tightly. “Floyd have you been here the whole time?” You asked as Grim sat on Floyd’s head, “he’s been complaining the whole time!” He grumbled crossing his arms. You giggle and pat Floyd’s head, “well if you make me some lunch I’ll tell you about the secret society I found.” You bribed to make your boyfriend let you go.

——————

SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO WRITE THIS ANON AND THANK YOU AGAIN FOR REQUESTING

#twisted wonderland #twst #frootloopscoswrites #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland x reader #grim (twst)#octavinelle #twisted wonderland octavinelle #azul ashengrotto #twst azul #jade leech #twst Jade #floyd leech #twst floyd #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader

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ariseur · 2 months

Note

hi, can i request how dante and vergil would act after having an argument with reader? thanks!

sparda twins after an argument 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

dante x reader, vergil x reader

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

i hope you guys remember that i’m a ffvii AND a devil may cry acc, don’t be afraid to request for dmc 😭😭

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

intended lowercase, one spoiler for vergils lore (?), arguments ofc, lmk if i missed anything!!

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓓ANTE — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ i can’t see you and dante getting into arguments often. the only things that would lead to a fight is dante being concerned about getting you involved in his work (if you’re a devil hunter), or you worrying about how he’s too nonchalant when he eventually does get injured.

❥ even then though, he makes sure to not say things he doesn’t mean. but even after an argument, it’s like he replays it back in his head when he’s alone, thinking of every word and if it actually did offend you or not.

❥ in the case that it’s a lower to moderate argument— dante’s so fuckin goofy, he’s the type to still kiss your cheek to wake you up and make you terribly cooked breakfast to see if you’ll forgive him. up to you whether or not you do but he’d try to spoil you with whatever money he has. i’d suggest coaxing him to use that money to pay the bills instead 😭

❥ but if it was a big argument, i think it’d be pretty silent for a while. i can see dante apologizing first depending on how old he is (what game it’s set in). the younger he is, the more emotionally inept he’ll be.

❥ in the case that it’s older dante, he’ll give you an apology although he doesn’t expect you to forgive him, he just wants you to know he’s sorry.

❥ regardless of his age though, dante will leave you be until you come to him saying that you feel better. there’s no point in chasing after someone who needs space. if you cup a wild bird in your hands, the only thing it wants to do is escape.

❥ i see dante as pretty decent when talking it out though, he just wants nothing more than for the silent treatment to just simmer down so that when you’re both feeling calm and okay, you can talk it out reasonably. and the make-up sex is even more awesome.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ 𝓥ERGIL — 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

❥ as stated before in my previous hcs for vergil, he is a silent lover!! no difference whether he’s calm or angry, he silently brews. i cant see vergil getting into arguments much either, but the only difference between him and dante is that vergil brushes the topics off unless it comes to you.

❥ for instance, you get hurt? he doesn’t play lmao

❥ he might be a little harsh but considering he spent a lot of his time in hell, his social cues are kinda off. he never yells at you, but it lowkey hurts when he’s like a mom who can’t show she’s mad in public as he’s whisper yelling about how you’re not supposed to be so careless.

❥ vergil never yells, always talking lowly in that precise tone of his. however, he’s just so calculated with his words, making it more difficult when you try your attempts at a rebuttal. his sharp tongue would probably get him into trouble if you piss him off enough / if he super worried, though. might say something he’ll regret later.

❥ if it’s a small argument, he either acts like nothing happened or he overanalyzes it and overcompensates with his ‘apology’— which is sitting you down on the couch as he makes you feel like you’re in an intervention while you guys talk it out 😭

❥ if it’s a bigger argument, he’ll probably give you the silent treatment. he won’t talk about it and he won’t talk to you for a while, preferring his space over anything while he calms down.

❥ his pride stands in the way of him actually apologizing to you, especially if he recognizes the argument was his fault after a while. so you might have to be the one to confront him first.

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loveandmurders · 11 months

Note

Hey sorry I was wondering if you would write a fic about the Sinclair Brothers having twin sons or like maybe triplets. How would they treat them? I've seen sinclair dad's but only with girls and I would just like to them with sons

Thank you :)

-👾anon

Hello sweet love, thank you for this very cute request <3

Hope you'll enjoy this <3

HAPPY FAMILY (female reader x poly!Sinclair brothers)

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of pregnancy sickness, of labour, mentions of a risky pregnancy for reader and the babies, overprotective parents, fluff.

Getting pregnant wasn’t part of your first plans.

You were living with your three lovers and enjoying yourself, doing chores around town and inside the house, having hobbies and sometimes helping to hunt down victims too. But you never saw yourself as a potential mother. It wasn’t that you didn’t like children, it was just that you didn’t particularly feel ready for it. And you were a little bit worried to have kids in the middle of a ghost town with no hospital nearby…

You knew your men would be more than happy to have children though. Bo was a family man and he needed heirs. You sometimes even suspected him to have a breeding kink. Vincent also wanted children, to make sure the family business would never disappear. And he would love to teach them how to sculpt. Lester loved babies and he would adore playing with kids and showing them cool stuff to do.

One morning you felt a little bit sick and weak. You hadn’t been able to stand the smell of the eggs Bo was cooking either, almost making you throw up. The boys had no idea what was going on, but it worried them. They didn’t like to see you ill or hurt. You weren’t sleeping the greatest either, even in their arms. You tried to deny the possibility of being pregnant until your period didn’t show up.

After a few weeks like that, you asked Lester to buy you a pregnancy test and to not say anything about it to the twins. He was really excited but did his best to keep it to himself. He secretly gave it to you and you went to the bathroom. Of course the test came back positive and you stayed for a long time staring at it while being locked up inside the room. You didn’t know how to feel about it. Lester was putting things away in the kitchen but once he was done, he just couldn’t stop himself from finding you. He knocked at the door.

“Hey, baby” he whispered. You got up and unlocked the door for him. “So?” he asked, trying to read your face.

“Les… I’m pregnant” you said without truly realising it and a bright big smile appeared on his face, he even had happy tears in his eyes. He was so full of joy. He couldn’t believe he was going to be a father. He had never been that happy before. He tightly hugged you before kissing you with fierce passion. You smiled against his lips.

“Ya need to tell the twins” he hummed and you nodded. You weren’t too sure how they were going to react but one thing was certain: they were going to overprotect you.

You sat the twins at the kitchen table while Lester was keeping an eye on Ambrose in case tourists came in. The two men were concerned about what you were going to announce because you had this serious expression upon your face.

“So, you know I’ve been a little bit under the weather lately and I can’t stand some smells anymore and all. And well… I’m pregnant” you finally said. You saw the same excitement lit up in their eyes than in Lester’s earlier that day.

“Ya what?” Bo asked with a smile, just to make sure he heard that right

“I’m carrying your child” you repeated and their happiness was communicating. Both the twins were soon all over you, kissing you and stroking your belly. You thought you were going to enjoy the pregnancy if they were all cuddly with you like that.

You had been right about one thing: the Sinclair men were impossibly overprotective and affectionate with you. One of them needed to always be with you. And they forbad you from doing a lot of the chores you used to. They were very gentle with you, trying their best to never do anything that could upset you. You had always felt like the most important person in their lives, but they proved it to you absolutely every day now you were pregnant.

You had been wrong on one thing: it wasn’t just one child you were carrying for them. You started to notice that when your belly got a lot bigger than it should have been for only one baby. You all agreed you needed to see a doctor. Bo was the one to come with you. He was so proud to play the father in front of the nurses and doctors. He was so proud you were having their babies. You all agreed you would never try to know which one of them was the biological father: they were all Sinclairs anyways.

Twins.

You were expecting twins.

And you almost wanted to kill the doctor when he told Bo you both would need to be very careful with you because it could be a risky pregnancy, especially because it was your first one. Bo wrapped an arm around your shoulder and very seriously nodded at the doctor. He also asked questions, trying to know how to care about you and his children the best he could. You had never seen him act so grave before. When you arrived at the car, you could tell Bo was tense. He was concerned about you and he was concerned that the twins would know the same fate as him and Vincent.

“They’ll be okay” you told him

“Ya’ll be okay too, darl” he replied and you smiled “Ya’ll go at the hospital, and they’ll care for the babies. And if anythin’ happens… Ya know we’ll always chose ya over the babies” he continued and you grabbed his hand. You shushed him.

“Nothing will happen. It won’t be like you and Vince, I’m sure of it. And of course it's a more risky pregnancy than if it was one child, but I know we’ll be fine and happy” you tried to reassure him.

“Ya’re not the one supposed to reassure me. We’ll take an extra good care of ya” he promised and you laughed, which made him arch an eyebrow at you.

“Not sure how ya can be even more extra with me. Any of you” you tenderly smiled at him and he relaxed at your words. He would hate to know you didn’t feel cared for or loved enough.

“Anythin’ for ya, mamma” he hummed and you blushed at the nickname while placing a hand over your stomach.

Your water broke one morning as you were getting up to grab a glass of juice. Bo and Lester brought you to the hospital as fast as they could, not caring about any kind of speed limit. Vincent was quite upset he couldn’t follow you there, but he wanted the best for the twins. He was so afraid that history was going to repeat itself. He didn’t want to create a small mask for one of his kids, he didn’t want to realise he created a monster with his brothers, he didn’t want you to be put into danger either. He knew that it had been very complicated for his mother and that she almost died. The three men had agreed that they would always choose you over the kids, no matter what. But it still would break their hearts to lose them.

You wished Vincent would have been by your side too, but you hoped you would soon be out of the hospital. You already wanted to be home, in your bed, surrounded by your five men. You knew life was going to be so good.

The labour went by a lot better than anticipated.

And the baby boys borned in perfect health conditions. You were exhausted but you asked to see them and Lester and Bo watched them and carried them with such happiness shining in their eyes. Your babies were already so loved. You even forgot about the killing and Ambrose being a ghost town. It was obvious that everything was going to be alright.

Lester left to call Vincent. His hands were too shaky to send a message and it would allow him to babble even if Vincent couldn’t verbally answer. Vinny was too emotional to even write either so it was alright and he was so grateful that everyone was doing good. He fully let go of his work to finish preparing the house. He wanted everything to be perfect so the babies couldn’t get hurt and you wouldn’t need to think about anything. Vincent wanted you to just rest like you deserved to.

At the hospital, you were too tired to notice how Lester or Bo were reacting with the babies, and a lot of their attention was on you to make sure you were alright. Bo praised you a lot for having done such a good work. And Lester sneaked little chocolates and snacks into your room for you.

It was when you finally reached back home, you realised how your husbands were reacting to their baby boys.

None of the men couldn’t stand hearing the babies crying. They instantly needed to reach for them and to cuddle them and appease them. They needed to protect the babies from any kind of traumas. They were instinctively caring fathers because they would rather die than reproduce what their childhood had been. No favourite, no scream, no abuse.

Vincent and Bo also refused to separate the baby boys; they wanted the twins to sleep in the same bed. They also tried their best to show the same amount of love to the two of them. They wouldn’t stand the idea that one of their kids would feel like they had a favourite. Lester seemed quite relieved about it. Your husbands often talked together late at night, when you were already resting, to decide what was the best to do for the boys.

You also often found Bo sleeping in an armchair as he had tried to watch over his boys. That way he was ready to take care of them the instant one of them would wake up.

Vincent was also the one taking care of them the most at night because he was a night bird anyways.

Lester was the one who knew how to make them laugh and to amuse them the most. He was good at appeasing them when they were crying too. He let his big brothers be overprotective, so he could be the fun dad. He was also finding them clothes and toys. He was already spoiling them rotten and you were powerless to prevent any of this.

Lester also loved to watch you feed the babies and he was often with you when that happened. And when he wasn’t there, it was Bo because the man wanted to make sure his babies and wife were doing alright. No need to say that Bo and Vincent were the most concerned whenever the boys weren’t eating as much as a few hours ago. You couldn’t stop rolling your eyes at them.

“They’re all right” you always said

“But we need them to be strong boys, and for that they need to eat well!” Bo exclaimed as Vincent nodded in agreement with his own twin.

“They’ll be strong. Have you seen their fathers and mother?” you smiled

The advantage of living with three men was they could take care of the kids and of the house and let you rest. Bo loved to take care of you and to wash you too.

Vincent enjoyed spying on you when you were with the boys. He loved when you were talking to them with so much love in your words and voice. He was so relieved to know that his baby boys were going to grow up in a loving family, even though they were surrounded by killers.

Bo was calling you “mamma” pretty much all the time now.

Lester once asked you how it was to be the matriarch of the family and Vincent was a lot more obedient to you than he used to be. If Bo was calling for him, he wouldn’t move, but if it was you, he was there in a flash.

You became the head of the family and your husbands made it clear that they couldn’t wait for you to get pregnant again because “the twins needed siblings to be protective of”

Thanks to you, the brothers knew that even killers deserve a happy family life.

#house of wax x reader #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x s/o #bo sinclair x you #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x s/o #vincent sinclair x you #lester sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x s/o #lester sinclair x you #sinclair brothers x reader #sinclair brothers x s/o #sinclair brothers x you #slasher x reader #slasher x s/o #slasher x you

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thirstydiglett · 3 months

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@pinkished ITS HERE

Love is Poisonous

Summary: Zoro has been in love with Sanji for a long time. When Sanji is poisoned in a fight and truly needs him, will it be enough for their love to come to fruition?

Pacing: After Water 7, before Thriller Bark

Pairings: Zosan!

Warnings: Near death of a major character, seizures, vomiting, other symptoms of poisoning, kissing

Word count: 3k (I am incapable of short stories lol)

Author’s Note: First time writing Zosan and I’m so fucking excited!! These two are just so perfect together. A small disclaimer: in the story Sanji is poisoned by death-stalker scorpion venom. I have taken extreme liberties with the symptoms. If you get stung by a death-stalker scorpion and you use this fic instead of going to a hospital you will probably die. So don’t do that. Thanks to pinkished for requesting, this was so much fun to write. Anyway, onto the story!!

“Luffy, you idiot! Be more careful!”

Zoro watched as his captain was knocked back, the blow he’d sustained catapulting him high into a nearby tree. But with a glance upward, Zoro caught the dark-haired man’s signature smile. Luffy was going to be fine.

“Sorry Zoro! Let me just get myself down from here…”

Zoro was not normally the type to worry when it came to battles with rival crews. But this group was tough. Tougher than Lucci and CP-0, even.

The Death-stalker Pirates. The captain had eaten the Death-stalker Scorpion Model Zoan Fruit, giving him the lower body and sharp pincers of a massive yellow scorpion. And his crew was as tough as he was.

A burly bearded man was taking on Franky and Robin in hand to hand (to hand to hand to hand) combat. A pair of twins with perfect balance was expertly dodging Usopp’s stars. Chopper had had to transform into his Monster Point form and was indiscriminately kicking the shit out of the lesser crew members. Over his shoulder Zoro caught a young woman with bright blonde hair and long, sharp nails challenging Nami. Sanji, of course, was simping over her in between fending off blows from the captain—

Oh shit. The captain.

Zoro never should have let his guard down. The captain’s long scorpion tail wrenched Zoro’s swords from his grasp before he even realized he was behind him, bending the steel as if it was foil.

“Shit! My swords!”

He turned for a split second to watch as his precious damaged swords were tossed far out of reach. But a split second was all it took. In a heartbeat, the scorpion captain’s tail was plunging through the air, drops of some sort of venom oozing from the tip.

There was no time to dodge.

“Marimo!” A sudden flash of black suit and golden hair, and Sanji was in front of him, shoving him out of the way. Zoro could only watch, as if in slow motion, as the venomous tail stabbed deeply into the cook’s leg.

Zoro tried to shout, but no words came out. He stood motionless, his heart racing, his stomach turning.

Please, no… Anyone but the cook.

He’d kept his feelings about the young man silent for a long time—since the East Blue, really. Talented, smart, loyal. Handsome. God, so handsome…

How the fuck do you tell someone you’re in love with him when he’s clearly straight, when he annoys the shit out of you just for fun, when you fight every other day? When you know your feelings won’t be returned?

You do it with your actions, Zoro had always supposed. So he defended the cook when the cook needed defending (not often), he ate every bite of every dish the man made, and on the best days he would simply stand in silence next to him, listening to the waves hit the ship and gazing out at the moon.

Would he ever be able to do that again?

In a flash, he was moving, wrenching the scorpion tail out of Sanji’s leg. Holding tight, he mustered every inch of his strength and flung the man hard into the trunk of a nearby tree. A sickening crrrack reverberated through the area as the captain’s back bent unnaturally. Hopefully that would keep him down for a while.

“You idiot cook! Why the fuck did you do that?” He shouted, putting Sanji’s arm around his shoulders to help him up even as he did so.

“Dunno…” Sanji managed. Already his speech was beginning to slur.

“Sanji!” Luffy had made it down from the tree. “What happened?”

Robin, leaving Franky to take over their fight, came running over. “This doesn’t look good. That’s some of the most poisonous venom in the world.”

Luffy swallowed, for once seeming uncertain. “So what do we do?”

“I think Chopper has some antivenom in the sick bay. But he can’t administer it like that…” she gestured to Chopper, who was 30 feet tall and in the process of stomping all over a couple of lackeys. “Someone else would have to do it.”

“I’ll do it,” Zoro grumbled, trying to sound annoyed instead of terrified. “The motherfucker bent my swords, I’m useless out here anyway.”

Luffy nodded, his mind made up. “Zoro… don’t let Sanji die, ok?”

Zoro smirked a bit despite himself. “I couldn’t if I tried. Someone has to keep this idiot alive.”

“YOU’RE A IDIOT, MARIO!” Sanji grunted.

“You mean Marimo?”

“Heh. You admitted you’re a marimo.”

Robin turned to Zoro, her expression serious. “You don’t have long. First, the neurotoxins will start affecting his thinking—he’s going to act like he’s drunk. In fact, he most likely won’t have any memory of anything after getting poisoned. Then he’ll start seizing, vomiting and coughing up blood. If he experiences paralysis in his feet, you’ll know you’ve got only minutes left before it kills him. Find the antivenom and use it fast.”

Zoro nodded. “Come on, love-cook. Let’s go save your stupid life.”

“YOUR life is stupid!”

*****

The pair hurried through the woods. Thankfully Sanji was still coherent enough to give directions back to the ship, because Zoro would have been totally lost otherwise.

“Turn lef’ at that boulder..” the cook, now on Zoro’s back, commanded. “This’s fun… ridin’ you like a horse…”

Zoro flushed at the sudden thought of Sanji atop him, riding him in a very different manner. “Shut up! Fucking dumbass… getting yourself poisoned…”

A moment of silence passed.

“Why’d you… why’d you do that anyway?” Zoro continued. “I could’ve handled it as well as you can.”

Sanji didn’t say anything for a long time. Finally, he spoke.

“‘Cuz we need you.”

Zoro’s cheeks reddened, and it took everything in his power not to look back at the man on his back.

“Yeah, well—we need you too.”

“Awwwwww!!! Little baby mosshead needs me!” Sanji teased. And with that, he promptly vomited the entire contents of his lunch onto Zoro’s shoulder.

“Fucking disgusting, dude! What’s wrong with you?” Zoro nearly dropped Sanji in his attempt to take off his shirt, forcing the blond to lean against a tree for a moment as Zoro threw the shirt to the ground and revealed his muscular brown physique.

“‘M poisoned, remember?” slurred Sanji. “Think we go left here…”

“You are going to owe me so hard when you’re better,” Zoro growled, picking Sanji back up and taking the turn.

“Damn, your skin is so warm. I’m really cold allasudden so that’s nice…” Sanji continued to ramble. Glancing down at Sanji’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, Zoro felt his stomach turn. The chef was slowly turning blue.

“Jesus Christ, Curly, we gotta get you back. Are we close to the ship?”

“Almost there. Jus’ past the tree line up here,” Sanji murmured, but his voice was softer now, and his grip weaker.

“Just hold on, ok? You’re gonna be ok.” As the words escaped Zoro’s mouth, a spasm wracked Sanji’s body, causing the man to cry out in pain. Zoro held him tighter against his back, willing himself to move faster. Please, please, please…

And then, like an answer from God, they broke through the tree line to reveal the rocky coast and the Sunny moored only about 100 yards away.

With a burst of strength, Zoro sprinted for the ship, holding onto Sanji for dear life. They cleared the gangway in record time and made it to the sick bay, Zoro dropping Sanji on the bed to rummage frantically through Chopper’s cupboards.

“Hey, be gentle, dumbass!” Sanji said weakly, unable to put any real force behind the insult.

“You can argue with me when you’re better, how does that sound?” Zoro said distractedly, reading the names on the vials and jars. Lyfitol, Wormwood, Queensblood… nothing even resembling an antivenom so far.

Sanji seized again on the bed, coughing hard. “Marimo…”

“What?”

“I’m sorry.”

Zoro paused, his heart pounding in his ears. “What do you mean you’re sorry?”

“‘M sorry you hafta go to all this trouble cuz I did something stupid. I’m not worth it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You could find a way better chef than me if you knew where to look. And a better fighter. Looks like you’re gonna get that chance…”

“Sanji!”

Zoro turned to the bed and grabbed Sanji’s shoulders, leaning over him to look him directly in the eyes.

“We don’t want anyone else. We want you. Just…stay alive for me, ok? Even if you don’t think you’re worth it. I do, you fucking idiot. I need you to stay alive, cook. Even if you annoy the shit out of me sometimes.”

Sanji was silent, his unfocused eyes attempting to take Zoro in. Finally, he managed to whisper. “Heh. You like me.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Zoro returned to the cupboards. After another silent moment of rummaging, his hand brushed a vial containing a silvery liquid. Turning it to reveal the label, Zoro’s heart leaped. The print was clear as day.

All-purpose antivenom. To be injected diluted with water at a 2:1 ratio.

Fuck, more to do. He grabbed a needle quickly and ran to the sink, getting some fresh water. His hands shook as he measured the correct amounts in the first small container he could find. Fuck, too much water. Better try agai—

“Zoro.”

He turned his head, annoyed at the distraction. “What?”

“I can’t move my feet.”

Zoro’s blood ran cold. Robin’s words echoed in his head. If he experiences paralysis in his feet, you’ll know you’ve got only minutes left before it kills him.

“I’m gonna save you, Curly, ok? You’re gonna be fine.” His voice broke even as he tried to comfort his friend, and he could feel tears streaming down his cheeks. God, he couldn’t lose Sanji. Anyone but Sanji.

Finally, blessedly, he managed to figure out the ratio. Drawing it into the needle, he ran to Sanji’s side, grabbed his arm. Finding a vein was easy—they were bulging all over Sanji’s body as the venom pulsed through him.

Taking a deep breath, Zoro leaned down, brushed his hand against the cook’s paling face, squeezed his arm

And

Injected.

*****

After Sanji’s color had evened out and the seizing had stopped, Zoro found himself sitting on the bed. He was somehow unable to take his eyes off the man. Near death’s door less than ten minutes ago, now as rosy-cheeked and handsome as he ever was.

Sanji’s eyes were closed, his sweaty hair swept back from his face, but he was breathing steadily. Zoro wasn’t sure he was even conscious until the blond suddenly spoke.

“I embarrassed m’self in front of Nami-swan and Robin-chan, actin’ all stupid like this, didn’t I?”

Zoro snorted despite himself. “That’s what you’re worried about right now?”

“ ‘fcourse. My beautiful ladies needa see me as a proteccor. Not some kinda loser that gets poisoned an’ acts like a drunk moron.”

Zoro couldn’t help himself. Their usual casual animosity had boiled down into something entirely different in the last hour, and maybe…

He touched Sanji’s leg.

“You’re not a moron, curly. No one on the crew thinks you’re a moron.”

“‘Cept you.”

Zoro swallowed. “Nah. I’m no exception.”

Sanji opened one eye, appraising the situation. “What the hell do you think of me then?”

Zoro looked away, removing his hand. Why was it suddenly so hard to speak? “I told you, cook. We need you.”

A long silence floated pregnant in the air.

Finally, Sanji was the one to break it. “If I get married ta Nami I think it’ll be unner those tangerine trees on ‘er home island.” The chef smiled at the thought, closing his eyes. “Errything’ll be so expensive, bes’ of the best, jus’ how Nami-swan likes it…”

Zoro had no response. Sanji’s intellect was obviously still dulled from the poison, but why the fuck had he suddenly started talking about weddings?

“An’ if I get married ta Robin-chan, we’ll hold tha reception inna library, an’ all the guests’ll get books as wedding favors, an’ I’ll serve a hunned million types of sandwiches cuz that’s ‘er favorite…”

“Yeah, dream on,” Zoro managed, attempting to sound aloof, like he wasn’t bothered by the thought of the man he loved at the altar with someone else.

“But that’s never gonna happen.” Sanji suddenly propped himself up to look Zoro dead in the eyes. Zoro had the distinct impression of having been dipped in something very warm, feeling it drip over his body and seep into his bones.

“I’m gonna marry you.”

The earth stopped turning.

Zoro looked away to hide his reddening face, but he was aware of the chef’s serene smile boring into his being.

“Gods, cook, that poison did a fuckin’ number on you.”

“No.” So confident, so sure of himself. “Gonna kill ten different sea kings for a buffet jus’ cuz you like it. You wear a black tux, I’ll wear a white one. An’ we’ll exchange rings on the tip of your sword.”

Zoro turned back to meet Sanji’s gaze. “You’ve really thought about this?”

“ ‘f course. Isn’t that what you do when yer in love with someone?”

Zoro’s heart was pounding mercilessly in his ears again, his skin was flushing, his stomach flipping like an acrobat. And the chef was leaning closer, and Zoro should have stopped him but he wasn’t, and their gazes met like fire and water.

“You’re… you’re really in love with me?” Zoro breathed.

A small smile, and Sanji closed the distance between them.

The kiss was soft, gentle, but as unyielding as Sanji ever was. He brought his hand to Zoro’s cheek as their lips touched, the other snaking around to stroke the hair at the nape of his neck. Zoro was amazed by the sheer confidence in it, as if Sanji had been waiting an awfully long time to do this, as if every fight between them was just an overture to this moment.

And he knew it was wrong. He knew Sanji wasn’t in his right mind, knew the effects of the poison were far from wearing off. Knew he should pull away.

He couldn’t.

Finally, Sanji broke the kiss, his grey-blue eyes piercing into Zoro’s as he pulled away. “I gotta sleep.”

“….You just kissed me and that’s what you have to say?”

“Sleep with me, marimo.” That confidence again, that soft smile.

“Look, love-cook, that was…nice (amazing incredible otherworldly heavenly perfect), but you’re not even gonna remember this tomorrow. I’m not gonna fuck you when you’re like this.”

“Then just cuddle with me?”

Zoro should have said no.

But he always did make one hell of a big spoon.

*****

The morning sunlight, fresh and crisp, shone in Zoro’s eyes. He blinked for a moment, deliciously warm and comfortable, before he noticed it. The smell of good tobacco. The warmth of another body pressed close to his own. The blond hair tickling his face.

The events from the previous night came flooding back into his mind all at once. The poison, the antivenom, the talk about marriage, the…

The kiss.

“Mmm… Nami-swan, you’re so big and strong…” The cook, still snuggled closely into Zoro’s arms, was murmuring. Then he turned his head to look back.

“MARIMO!”

Zoro was shoved unceremoniously out of bed and hit the floor with a thud. Above him, Sanji had sat up and was regarding him with a mixture of confusion and disgust.

“What kind of freak are you, sleeping in my bed with me? Who—wait, why are we in the sick bay?”

“Christ dude, don’t be such an asshole! I saved your life yesterday, after all!”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” There was no spark of recognition in Sanji’s eyes, and Zoro could feel the disappointment washing over him. He really didn’t remember…

“SANJIIIIII!”

A voice from outside the door, and suddenly Luffy burst in, all but throwing himself onto the bed beside Sanji and flinging his arms around him.

“Sanji, we thought you were gonna die!”

“Ok, seriously. What the fuck is everyone talking about.” Sanji’s voice was serious but still confused.

“You really don’t remember anything, do you, cook?” Zoro asked, still rubbing his shoulder from where he’d hit the floor.

The rest of the Straw Hats poured into the room, each of them eager to tell Sanji about the battle, the venom, the way Zoro had saved his life. Sanji sat in silence and listened to everyone in turn, amazed that such a significant event had occurred. One that he had no memory of whatsoever.

Finally, he climbed out of bed. “Let me make you all breakfast then, as thanks for keeping me alive. I’ll meet you all in the kitchen in five minutes. How do omelets sound?”

“Yahoooooo!” Luffy cheered, leading the crew out of the sick bay and leaving Sanji and Zoro alone together again.

Sanji turned to face him, and Zoro prepared for a fight. After all, they’d woken up in a bed together—Sanji was doubtless going to be furious now that he was sober.

But instead, the man did something that took Zoro by surprise. Closing the distance between them, Sanji suddenly pulled him into a brief but heartfelt embrace.

When he pulled away, both of their faces were red.

“Thanks, Zoro. For saving my life.”

Zoro opened his mouth, but no words came out.

As the chef turned away and headed to the kitchen, Zoro stared after him. Maybe, after all this time, maybe there was a chance.

He moved to follow his nakama, and as he did so his foot brushed something on the floor. The vial of antivenom, empty and discarded. Not knowing exactly why, Zoro picked it up. On the back of the peeling-off label, the side effects were listed. One sentence in particular caught his eye.

Patients will lose their memory of the events that happened after their poisoning, but may recall them weeks or months after the event.

Please, Zoro thought as he left the sick bay, headed for the best omelets on the Grand Line.

Please.

__________________________________________

If you’d like, I can tag you the next time I write a story! Just send me a message!

#sanji #black leg sanji #zoro #roronoa zoro #zosan #sanzo #one piece #one piece fanfic #Diglett writes

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lostloveletters · 5 months

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One of Those Nights (Sonny Corleone x Reader)

Summary: You’re Sonny and Sandra’s go-to babysitter, and when Sandra’s out of town for the weekend, Sonny needs all the help he can get.

Note: College-aged female reader, but no other descriptors are used. I listened to Donna Summer while writing this lol. Anyway, my first Godfather reader-insert fic! Do not interact if you're under 18, a terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Implied age gap, power imbalance, cheating. Sexually explicit content involving unprotected sex and Sonny's canonically huge cock. A little bit of praise kink. Do not interact if you're under 18.

Your eyes fluttered open from your half-asleep stupor at the sound of the front door’s locks clicking. Sitting up on the couch, you quickly smoothed out your blouse and skirt. You just barely made it into the kitchen when Sonny got in.

“Sorry I’m back so late. I wanted to be home to put the kids to bed—“

You shook your head, smiling. “It’s fine, Mr. Corleone. Frank and the twins are already asleep. There’s some sausage with peppers and onions in the icebox if you haven’t eaten. I can heat it up quick on the stove for you.”

“Jesus, you’re already doin’ us a favor staying the weekend while Sandra’s outta town,” he said, shedding his tie and undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. “And how many times do I gotta tell you, you can call me Sonny.” He playfully pinched your cheek. “I’m not that old yet, am I?”

“No,” you giggled. “Sorry, Sonny.”

The kitchen's layout was almost second-nature to you at that point, having done plenty of cooking for Sonny and Sandra's sweet kids when you babysat them. You grabbed a frying pan, setting it on the stovetop and pouring in a few drops of olive oil before turning on the flame. By the time you got the plate you saved for Sonny out of the refrigerator, the oil was sizzling, and the scent of sweet peppers and onions filled the kitchen again when you’d scraped the contents of the plate into the pan.

Sonny was quiet behind you, save for him tapping his freshly lit cigarette against the porcelain ashtray on the kitchen table. You knew the sound well. His gaze burned through your back to your rapidly beating heart as you became increasingly aware that you were alone with him, the man who you lusted after in quiet guilt, because he was married and you were his children’s babysitter, for Christsake.

After a few minutes, the sausage with peppers and onions appeared thoroughly reheated, and you transferred the meal back onto the plate. You grabbed a nearby loaf of crusty bread, cutting a piece for him and placing it with the rest of the food.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Sonny said, grabbing the plate from the counter.

“Anytime.”

You returned to the living room, tuning the radio to the station that was broadcasting Lights Out, a late night horror show that always sucked you in no matter how hard you tried to remind yourself it was only a radio story. At least it’d get your mind off of Sonny, out of the gutter–or into a different one at least. You sat on the couch, fidgeting with your hands as you let yourself get lost in the host’s voice as he told the latest tale of terror.

You nearly screamed when Sonny appeared in the living room with his plate of food and asked, “You listen to this garbage?”

“It usually scares me into staying awake.”

He snickered to himself, taking the spot on the couch next to you. “For what?”

“My roommates and I play it in the dorm during finals to keep us up when coffee doesn’t cut it.”

“How’s college goin’ anyway? Straight As, right?”

“I made the dean’s list last semester.”

He shook his head. “Smart and beautiful, whatever lucky guy ends up with you is gonna have his hands full.” He glanced at your chest, his eyes lingering on your breasts for a moment before going back to his food. “Your cooking might be a little better than San’s. Don’t tell her I said that.”

You smiled, keening at his compliment. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“You didn’t have to stay up for me, you know.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

“Why’s that?”

You faltered. “I just wanted to see you.”

He smiled, amused by your answer. “You’re sweet. Gonna give me a toothache if you keep that up.”

“Is that so bad?”

Sonny shook his head as he set his plate down on the coffee table. “‘Course not.” He got up to turn the radio off, the sound of his voice engulfing you in a warm haze, “Don’t get a chance to be alone with you enough.” He placed his hand on your knee when he sat back down, rubbing his thumb against your stocking-clad leg, the feeling frustratingly electric as the thin fabric was all that lay between the skin-on-skin contact you craved from him.

Your lips parted, trying to conjure up a response, but only managing a shaky breath and a weak nod of agreement.

“We don’t gotta do anything you don’t wanna do, doll,” he whispered, his voice low.

“I want you, Sonny,” you assured him.

He kissed you with a passion you swore only existed in movies, not the hesitant or sloppy handling you’d experienced from past boyfriends, but the certainty of a man who knew exactly what he wanted. Heat rushed over your skin at the confirmation that he wanted you, his hands on your body, sliding up your skirt as he grabbed your ass, pulling you closer to him so that you were practically straddling his lap. You steadied yourself on his biceps, giving them a squeeze, letting yourself feel him, acknowledge your desire for him that had been latent until then.

You moaned into his mouth, his tongue capturing the sound, claiming your expression of desire as his. And who else would it be for? You’d always found him handsome and charismatic, always were a bit too curious about what was behind each vaguely flirtatious comment or sly wink he’d send your way when no one else was looking.

“Sonny, where–where should we–”

“We can do it out here, but you gotta be quiet. You can do that for me, right?”

You nodded eagerly.

Hunger glistened in his dark eyes as he smiled wolfishly. “Attagirl.”

A whimper escaped your lips at his praise, the way he made you feel naked with just his gaze. You unbuttoned your blouse, letting it slip from your arms and tossing it aside onto the floor. Sonny pulled you onto his lap, burying his face in the crook of your neck while he kneaded your breasts through your bra. Soon, that wasn’t enough, and he pulled them from the cups, his hands on your soft skin as he squeezed. His thumbs brushed over your nipples. You gasped. You wanted his hands on you like that all the time, had imagined–secretly hoped, even–that he’d do it one day while you were in the kitchen or in the narrow hallway to the bedrooms, that he’d grope you, kiss you, do something to make you stop feeling so crazy about him. In that moment you realized getting what you wished for only made you want him more.

His lips burned deliciously against your skin, and you groaned at the gentle bites he left on your neck and shoulders. You rocked your hips against his, feeling his hard cock straining through his pants, desperate for more friction against your pussy.

“You feel that? You feel what you do to me?” he murmured against your tender skin.

“I need you,” you whined. “Please, Sonny.”

“Alright, doll. Lay back for me, alright?”

You did as he asked, shifting off of his lap to lie back on the couch. You watched intently, hungrily, as he unbuckled his belt, pulling his cock free from his pants, slowly pumping his length in his hand. You nearly choked. Sandra had made jokes about Sonny’s size before, ones that made your face heat up in embarrassment at her talking so crudely about him, but you’d always thought she was exaggerating.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, silently wondering if he could even fit inside you, an almost morbid curiosity only further fueling your desire.

A tender concern spread across his face as he searched yours for any sign of hesitation. “You sure you’re alright with this?”

You nodded. “I’ve wanted you in a bad way for so long.”

“How bad?” he asked, his voice husky and low.

Your lips nearly touched his as you whispered your answer. “Shameful.”

He kissed you again, this time with an intensity that nearly knocked the wind out of you. His fingers dug into the waistband of your panties and stockings, pulling them down so you could kick them off, ending up with one leg hanging off of the couch, exposing your wet pussy for him. You buried your fingers into his hair, the kiss desperate and wanton, your mouth open for him in a soft gasp as his pushed his tip inside you.

It wasn’t enough, the primal part of your brain screamed. You needed more. Digging your nails into his scalp, you lifted your hips, taking more of him in you.

“Don’t hold back, Sonny. I can take it,” you said.

He licked his lips, staring at you for a split second before determining you meant what you said. He filled you, your pussy clenching around his cock as he thrust into you, finding a rhythm that would’ve been painful if you weren’t already wet for him.

“Y’know, I used to get off thinkin’ about this,” he grunted, “bending you over the kitchen counter or up against the bathroom door.”

“Sonny–I–”

“You know how long I’ve wanted you? Now I’ve got my pretty college girl coming apart for me.”

“Oh my god–fuck–Sonny–” Your heart was pounding in your ears, eyes struggling to stay open as his thrusts became deeper, more erratic. He was close, his cock twitching inside you, hitting that spot you’d only ever reached with your fingers before. No faking it, no having to do the heavy lifting yourself.

He had to put his hand over your mouth when it hit you, white hot pleasure bursting in your brain, pulsing through your pussy as you grabbed at him, digging your fingers into his arms to ground yourself, feeling as though you’d lose control of your body otherwise. Your moans were muffled, incoherent nonsense as he fucked you through your climax to reach his. With another hard thrust, he came inside you. Overwhelmed by the sensation, your hips bucked and your pussy clenched hard around him, milking his cock as he came.

“Look at you, takin’ it all–fuck–” Sonny hissed out through gritted teeth, trying to maintain what little self-control he had as to not make too much noise. “So fuckin’ good for me–”

You whined at that, your overstimulated, fucked-out brain going into overdrive. You wanted to be good for him. You were good for him.

You weren’t sure when it got so still, so quiet, but the only sound in the room was your and Sonny’s heavy breathing. He pulled out of you, your pussy feeling achingly empty. You looked at the ceiling, mildly aware of Sonny staring at you.

“How're you feeling? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked.

“I’ll be lucky if I can walk tomorrow,” you said breathlessly. “But that was great. Really I–I don’t know what else to say.”

He caressed your cheek, bringing your attention back to him. “I’m gonna get you a towel, alright, sweetheart?”

You nodded, smiling a bit when he kissed your forehead before disappearing down the hall to the bathroom. And there were still two whole days left before Sandra got back. You smiled wider.

#sonny corleone x reader #sonny corleone #the godfather #the godfather x reader #the godfather imagine #the godfather fanfic #sonny corleone imagine #sonny corleone fanfic

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aspiringtrashpanda · 10 days

Note

HI TUMBLR USER ASPIRINGTRASHPANDA im a big fan of your work please keep it up!!!!!!!!

would it be too oddly specific to request raph introducing mc to hella britney spears obey me? :D

HI TUMBLR USER SHOOTINGSTARRFISH IT WOULD BE AN HONOR TO WRITE ABOUT HELLA BRITNEY SPEARS OBEY ME. 💕

Characters: Raphael, MC, appearances by Solomon and Simeon Raph shows MC his pet. pure fluff! No warnings apply

“Ah, welcome,” Simeon smiled from the doorway of Purgatory Hall. “I heard from Luke that you were coming by. Are you seeking refuge?”

You shuffled your feet, ducking your head as shame prickled the nape of your neck. “How did you know?”

His eyes squinted, that pretty jingle of his laugh filling the air between you. “I think I can see smoke coming in the direction of the House of Lamentation.”

“Oh. Yeah, you see…” Where did you even begin to explain the domino effect that had happened this time?

“No need,” Simeon came to your rescue, gentle gaze oozing sympathy. “I know those brothers well enough to surmise what happened.”

When you winced something akin to an agreement, he ushered you inside, sheltering you from the occasionally overwhelming presence of your favorite brothers. As you toed your shoes off in the entrance, the scent of Simeon’s cooking washed over you. You may as well have turned into a cartoon caricature of yourself, floating towards the delightful smell in the kitchen.

“Luke and I are making lunch.” As if he even had to clarify. He did, however, add, “but you’ll find Solomon and Raphael in the living room,” which was basically Simeon for don’t bother trying to help.

Making the familiar turns throughout the first floor, you lifted a hand to wave at Solomon and Raphael, only to drop it to your side when you found them. The two men stood side by side, folding laundry. Or, more like Solomon was hauling clothes out of a basket, molding them into a roughly square shape, and placing them on the coffee table… Just to have Raphael re-fold them right beneath his nose, with piercing eye contact.

You watched for a few seconds before making your presence known. There was a twinkle in Solomon’s eyes, a twitch to his neutral lips that had you wondering if he was intentionally ruffling the angel’s - currently withdrawn - feathers.

Solomon’s amusement was lost on Raphael. You were certain you could see the cogs whirring in his brain beneath his ashy hair. The crease of his brow told you he had absolutely no idea how Solomon could be so bad at laundry.

“Hi,” You broke through the silence, putting on your cheeriest smile, “How is my favorite Purgatory Hall resident today?”

As you saw the confusion give way to suspicion in their twin looks of surprise, you considered that perhaps you, like Solomon, also liked to stir the pot. It was funny, how they both straightened their spines, puffed out their chests, sized the other up while simultaneously pretending to be unbothered. Subtle peacocking, in a way.

You would do the same to the brothers, but… Well, then you would just end up at Purgatory Hall once more, wouldn’t you? Such a taunt was sure to start another fire of some sort between the Rulers of the Underworld.

“Well, if it isn’t my adorable apprentice,” Solomon beamed, reaching behind the laundry basket to procure a bowl of pastries. “Can I interest you in a macaroon?”

“Did you make them?” You eyed the fluffy cookies. They did look good…

“Of course!”

Never mind.

“Ah, sorry Sol, I ate before coming here and I’m stuffed.” You lied. Thankfully, Raphael’s malfunctioning tastebuds saved you from further scrutiny. He lit up like the heavens above, blue gaze sparkling like sapphires as he snagged one of the sweets.

“Truly delicious, Solomon.” Despite his praise, Raphael remained as stoic as ever. Only the slightest glimmer of joy dancing in his eyes gave away his genuine gratitude. “I must get your recipe. Michael is so fond of sweets.”

“I’ll make sure to bake him a special batch at the end of the semester,” Solomon preened beneath the compliment, “You could send him my regards.”

And just like that, the angel’s guard flew back up, an expression edging confusion finding solace in your hum of surprise. What on earth - er, the three realms? - did Solomon want to send regards to archangel Michael for?

As Solomon turned back to the laundry, excusing himself by claiming he had to retrieve another load from the dryer, Raphael eyed you with unveiled curiosity. You shrunk under the intensity of his stare. It wasn’t often you found yourself alone with the latest exchange student from the Celestial Realm, and you weren’t sure you would ever get used to the way he watched you so carefully. Though he rarely voiced his thoughts, his stare had a certain weight to it. One that told you that he was questioning every flex of your fingers, every slope of your lips, every shift of your limbs. Why he found you so interesting, you weren’t sure.

As for you… Of course you found him interesting! Luke had said it himself - Raphael was the youngest angel to ever be given the rank of seraph! He was quiet and mysterious and so very guarded. You never knew just what he was thinking at any time. You could examine him for hours and you were certain boredom would elude you.

In fact, you were about to find out who would win a casual staring contest between the two of you. Almost taken aback by your confidence, there was a split second where you thought he was going to cave, his jaw clenching and his lips pursing in a pout you almost considered petulant. But then, he steeled his resolve, doubled back with a burning question in his gaze.

You had no answer for his silent inquisition, but you felt scorched regardless.

“Hey,” He blinked slowly, forfeiting. “Do you want to see my spears?”

“Actually…” You were answering before you even knew what you were going to say. “Yeah, I do.”

“Come with me,” He nodded curtly, exiting the living room with little warning.

Nearly tripping over your feet in your haste, you raced after him, the flutter of his Celestial Realm clothes a flash of ivory turning a corner. Your heart thudding in your chest, you felt your anticipation growing with each step. You had heard so much about his rain of spears! The terrifying display of violence that struck fear into even Belphegor’s heart!

And so, you were completely flabbergasted when Raphael spun around from the corner of his temporary bedroom, brandishing… not a weapon.

You almost considered it anticlimactic, but the disappointment lingered for less than a second. Your brain’s buffering complete, it reached a very reasonably enthusiastic conclusion: Raphael was cradling a hedgehog. Not just any hedgehog, but a shadow hedgehog native to the Devildom. Its charcoal quills quivering under your awestruck gaze, you hit the brakes on your excitement, your index finger hovering an inch away from its curious nose.

“Can I pet it?” You whispered, even though no one had told you to keep quiet.

“He likes when you rub his forehead,” Raphael matched your volume, lifting the little mammal closer to your face.

Sure enough, the shadow hedgehog squeaked in delight as you carefully ran the pad of your finger up his nose to the patch of fur between his ears. “Is… Is his name Spears?”

Raphael looked at you incredulously, as if the answer was obvious. “His back is made of a thousand spears.”

To accentuate his point, he gently stroked the needles laid flat over Spears’s back. You smiled, “Shadow hedgehogs are known to inflate like pufferfish when they feel threatened.”

Raphael regarded you with a stern frown, “I would never harm Spears.”

“No!” You squawked, startling the hedgehog. He hissed softly, nuzzling into Raphael’s thumb for reassurance. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

A pensive hesitance fogged those sapphire eyes. Cradling his pet close to his chest, he seemed to calculate the potential risks in his head before offering, “Would you like to hold him?”

Did you ever! Your hands shaking, you extended them towards Spears, your palms pressed together in a makeshift platform. “Okay…”

It tickled, the way his little paws scurried across your skin. His nose - wet and cold - nudged against the base of your thumb, his miniature spears raising in apprehension until he deemed your hands safe. Then, he sat still and allowed you to marvel at his pristine quills and beady onyx eyes. He was an awfully cute hedgehog.

“You know, in the human world, there’s a musician named Britney Spears.” You weren’t entirely sure why you were bringing up the pop star. You were positive she was not to Raphael’s liking.

“Are they any good?”

You sidestepped. “They’re iconic.”

His silence seemed louder this time, his lips twisted into the smallest frown as he watched his pet tentatively lick at your palms. With a resolute jerk of his head, he decided, “I will allow Britney to be his middle name.”

“Middle name? Like, Spears Britney… Last name?”

“His first name is Hella.”

“What?” You blinked. Listen, you led quite a bizarre life. From being yoinked into the Devildom, to nearly dying at the hands of Levi because you lowkey cheated at a quiz show, to actually dying in a different timeline for wanting to hug Belphie, and then to somehow becoming the apprentice of the world’s strongest sorcerer. And yet, this hedgehog’s name managed to be the oddest thing you had heard yet.

Raphael shrugged, “Solomon assures me it is a name for only the most honorable warriors in the human world.”

Your lips curled inwards, sucked by the force of your inhale. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh.

Still, your voice wavered with amusement. “Hella…Britney Spears, the shadow hedgehog.”

“Yes,” Raphael confirmed, pride overwhelming his gaze as he gently took the little mammal from your hands. “The best around.”

The glint in his eye told you that arguing would only end in a rain of actual spears. All you could do was nod, thank him for sharing a piece of his life with you, and echo, “The best around.”

*・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜

My requests are open! Find out more HERE. Banner by the incredible @4laurus, Beel fan extraordinaire.

ALSO HERE IS HELLA BRITNEY SPEARS OBEY ME.

#obey me raphael #I guess I should say #Raphael obey me #hella Britney spears obey me #if we can give him his own tag that would be amazing #wait am I misgendering hella #Starr i'm sorry #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #my writing #aspiringtrashpanda

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xxxninjaxxx23 · 1 month

Text

It’s ok to be afraid of something.

Tara Carpenter x Fem Reader

It was a slightly cool day in New York City. You just woke up to a wonderful smell in the kitchen.

“Looks like Tara is making breakfast” you said, getting out of bed to thank your girlfriend.

You felt a warm feeling in your heart knowing that Tara is living with you in your shared apartment and the one you wake up with everyday.

You certainly have come a long way considering how must distrust and dislike Sam had towards you despite the twins and Anika adoring you.

Hell it took a lot of dinners and convincing from Tara for the older sibling to finally say yes to her moving in with you.

In the end, it was all worth it.

You made your way into the kitchen as Tara was finishing the second omelet and last bits of bacon. “Hi baby, did you sleep well?” You asked, kissing your girlfriend on the head while gathering the used pans and placing them in the sink.

She smiled saying yes but pouted a little bit

“Y/N! I was trying to surprise you with a breakfast in bed.” She said, playfully pushing you. You laughed “Kinda hard for it to be a surprise when your five star cooking always gets me up!

Also, you know how I feel when we eat in bed. I still feel crumbs in the sheets to this day.”

Tara scoffed “That’s because you eat like a child. Didn’t I have to wipe your mouth one time because you couldn’t be bothered to do it?”

You shrugged, grinning “Hey like I said. Five star cooking.”

Tara kissed your cheek “Since you’re up Y/N, you can help me set the plates up in the dining room.” You nodded and took the filled plates to the table. Tara came by and sat next to you but before you could eat, you got up

“Where are you going?” Tara asked

“I’m going to wash my hands real quick. One must have clean hands before eating.” You said heading to the bathroom, hearing Tara say from across the hall “just use utensils or a napkin”

After drying your hands from the water, you hear a scratching noise coming from the corner of the bathroom. You sighed, hoping those mice aren’t back as your messy neighbors from upstairs always had that issue. Self explanatory.

It wasn’t mice this time but your encounter didn’t stop you from screaming, running out of the bathroom over to your girlfriend.

Tara was pouring orange juice into your cup and almost spilled it when she heard your scream. “Baby! What’s wrong?” She said as you ducked behind her.

Your nerves were still shot but you managed to speak “I-I saw a spider in the bathroom…I-” She put her hand on your chest, feeling your rapid heart beat.

“Shh. It’s ok” she said sliding her flip flops on “Where is it?” When you told her where, you followed her behind.

Lucky the spider hasn’t moved from where it was

“Right there Tara, see!” You said pointing at the spot “I’m really sorry for having to put you in this situation, I know how big it is-“

Your lover simply walked up to the insect and squished it before it could escape. You were shocked yet amazed at the same time.

Although you couldn’t help but feel ashamed that you had to ask your girlfriend to do what you could have done in the first place, especially since you were Sam’s height and just as strong as her.

You never felt more ashamed in your life (well except for that one time you forgot to lock the door and Sam walked in on you guys doing it)

“Y/N. What’s wrong? I already took care of the creepy crawly.” Tara said as she cleaned up the mess.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Tara

“I guess I’m just a little embarrassed love. I mean I’m supposed to be this girl who’s the same height as Sam and built too but here I am being afraid of a little insect and asking you to kill it for me.” You said a bit annoyed.

Tara walked up to you, cupping your cheek “Baby, it’s ok to be afraid of something. No matter how tall or strong you are.”

You felt a sense of gratitude “but-“ she put a finger on your lips “No buts, I will always love you no matter what you fear or the flaws you have.”

You smiled

“That’s easy for you to say my little knight in shining armor. Not scared of any insects and all.”

She shrugged “Well, don’t expect me to take care of any mice Y/N. I’ll be up on that table faster than sonic.”

You laughed, putting an arm around Tara’s waist. “Don’t worry love, I’ll handle that. After all I’ll always love you no matter what you fear.”

Tara playfully tapped you before pulling you into a kiss. You both melted into each other’s touch before letting your tongues meet. You stayed that way before pulling away for air. “Let’s go finish our breakfast before it gets cold, you know it’s too early for dessert” Tara said taking your hand.

You smiled and shook your head, knowing how lucky you are to have found a brave and loyal woman.

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter headcanons #scream franchise #jenna ortega #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter #sam and tara carpenter #phobia #beauttiful girls

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mikalei · 11 months

Text

————————— Murder in My Mind +18

Killer!Husband!Scaramouche x Fem!reader

Modern AU

Synopsis: your work as a detective was never easy; you have been assigned to another murder case and was tasked to find and apprehend this killer, but what if it was someone you never expected—what if it was someone closer to you than you think…

tw: ya’ll thought it was fluff at first but it’s not lol, eventual smut, mentions of death, killings, knife, blood, violence, psychotic behavior, weird obsessive behavior,; contains: sexual activity, vaginal sex, oral sex, creampie, vaginal fingering, shower sex, rough sex, marking, biting, tit sucking, cunnilingus, and many more!..

cw: no use of Y/n, implied female reader, Scara calls reader “darling, my love,gorgeous, and my wife”, Scara is secretly a psycho but we still love him, not proofread.

part ii: prev ; masterlist ; ??

A/n: based on a c.ai bot made by Haniyyah (click hyperlink to visit their tt page, don’t forget to follow them!). If you’re reading this, I love how you write your bots. The prompt and idea was all from their Killer Scaramouche bot, this fic is based solely on what I encounter while using it. (Also I didn’t add the twins part in this story, I don’t want traumatised childrens on my fic just yet). Also sorry if there are any grammatical mistakes, I haven’t written anything for 2 years, I’m still getting the hang of it.

I woke up at the the smell of freshly brewed coffee coming from outside of the bedroom, it took me a second until I come to my senses and realize the event that happened when I got back from work, blood rushed to my cheeks as I now notice a red hand print on my waist and thighs.

“jesus christ, does he really need to be so rough to me during sex?“ I thought to myself. As I examine myself more, I just realized that I’m still naked. I look for something to cover my body, I’m not really in the mood to put some clothes on but I can’t just walk around butt naked in my house.

Soon, I successfully grabbed one of my husband’s black hoodie after limping towards his drawer—due to how sore my legs are after what happened, and put it on after looking for a fresh pair of panties.

I looked at the clock in our room as it states that it is already an hour past twelve. “Good thing that today’s my day off.”. I then head to the kitchen, still limping to which I assume where my husband is and I was right. There he was shirtless, wearing only his gray sweatpants and and apron as he puts some bacon into the pan.

His toned back is facing towards me he seem to be focused on the food that he is cooking. I just stand there, leaning on the table for support since I have a hard time walking let alone standing up. As I admire his body, I start to notice the red scratch marks he has on his back.

“Did I do that? Holy hell, that must sting so bad…” I thought to myself once again when I got interrupted by Scara speaking.

“My love, if you keep staring at me I might just melt” he chuckles as he turn off the stove and put the bacon and coffee on the table. He took off the apron he is wearing and hang it to the rack, before walking to me, pulling me in for a hug.

“Good afternoon, darling. I just woke up a few hours ago” he said as he kissed my forehead. I buried my head on to his neck as I lean in more to the hug. Being with him really gives me a sense of comfort. “You smell like bacon” I mumble to him to which makes him chuckle.

He picked up the chair that’s tucked in the table and let me sit there before pushing it closer back to the table ,then sitting on the chair across mine. We start to eat the breakfast he served.

While eating, he decided to spoke up once again. “Oh by the way, Hun, your boss was calling you earlier, but you’re still asleep and won’t wake up even with how irritating your phone’s ringtone is” he said the last part jokingly, to which I act like I was offended but then laughed it off. “My boss? You mean my manager?” I asked. “Not sure, I think the caller’s id was Gunnhildr?” He said as he take a sip of his coffee.

“Huh? That’s weird she won’t usually call me directly, most of the time she’ll just contact our manager if ever she wants to relay a message to me” I said as I look for my phone. I opened the contacts and listen to the voicemail her assistant left.

“Hello, this is President Gunnhildr’s office, I’m sorry to inform you that the head of your department has unfortunately passed away, his body was seen in an alley way near a bar and another detective is handling the case right now. The president wanted to offer her condolences to his family, friends and co-workers. She understand that you may also be grieving at his death so she’ll let you take some time off to properly grieve at his loss, as we look for someone who will take his place. We’ll keep you updated if we found a new replacement for him.”

The voicemail then ends, as I feel my blood run cold from the news I received. Scara looks at me concerned about what happened. He reached out his hands to hold mine to grab my attention. “Baby? What’s wrong? You’ve gone pale. Is everything alright at work?” Scara looks so concerned, he stood up from his seat and hugged me from behind.

“Remember the manager I was talking about last night? He was found dead in an alleyway earlier this morning…” I whispered, almost like there was something blocking my throat that stops me from speaking in a normal voice.

“Oh my… I’m sorry to hear that my love, it must be so devastating.” Scara turned me around so I can hug him too. But while I was nestling my face at the crook of his neck, a satisfied smirk in planted on husband’s face. Hearing about his work makes him so happy, and he knows deep down, you also feel some sort of relief knowing that there’s no one going to harass you on your work any longer.

Scara cleared his throat before breaking the hug. “So…uhm, what else did the voicemail said? Do you have to go to work today? Did they assign you to more work?” Scaramouche switches back to an empathetic look as he cups my cheeks on his large hands.

“No, my boss said that I can take a few days break because of what happened.” And with that my husband’s face almost lit up. He was again wearing that same dorky grin he has when he wants to do something he has in mind.

“What’s with that face?” I looked at him as he continues to wear a wide grin. “You know… I remembered we haven’t got the time to celebrate our wedding anniversary a few weeks ago because you’re always busy…” He implies, “…and I have been saving up for this really fancy date on a fancy private beach house that I rented on a fancy island…”

My eyes went wide when I heard what he had done. “You what?! Are you serious?!” The thought of my manager’s death instantly left my mind. “How long have you’ve been planning this?” I was still shocked at how he managed to those things, not that it’s the first time that we went on a fancy date but what he just said is way more fancier than the dates we used to have.

“I’ve been making all the arrangements for more than a month ago and coincidentally, the beach house is available right now and I’ve already bought the plane tickets for the both of us.” By this time I was speechless, how could he do all of this in such a short notice? I was just staring at him, mouth slightly open and still shocked with all of this.

“Why aren’t you saying anything? Did you not like it?” He asked, I can sense him pouting already. “No no no, I was just…surprised… wow, I mean, you really did all of that?” He just gave me a nod and I just swooned over him. I pressed a ton of kisses around his face while muttering “i love you so much” and “you’re amazing”

Scara just chuckled at my reaction “glad you like it, now the trip last for 5 days, and we can get on a flight tomorrow evening, why don’t we prepare today, maybe buy something for the trip?” He suggested, to which I agree. I almost ran to our bedroom to get change when I remembered that my body is still aching from last time.

My husband just looks at me with a smirk, “oh what’s the problem darling? Can’t walk properly” he teased as he now take in the sight in front of him: red marks are plastered all over my neck down to the cleavage of my breast. He looks so proud at his work before a playfully hit him. “You did this” I said to which he only reply with a chuckle, “and I will do it again” he smirked as he picked me up in a bridal style as he walk to our bedroom.

A few moments later, after we finally got dressed, we head on to the mall to buy the stuff we need. As we are walking, browsing from store to store, one had caught my attention. The lingerie shop. I grinned as a fun thought came to mind.

“Oh shoot, babe I think I left my phone at the car, can you go and get it for me? My shopping list is on my notes” It was a lame excuse but knowing my husband for more than eight years and being married to him for three, he will definitely do what I’ll ask even if it doesn’t make sense. Of course I would do the same for him.

“Ok, wait for here, I’ll be back shortly” he left after leaving a kiss on my cheeks. Once he has fade in the crowd, I immediately walked in to the shop.

I look in between the aisles, searching for something that will definitely surprise my husband, and indeed I saw the perfect one, this is way different than the ones I buy but since my dear husband made so much effort for this vacation, I ought to repay his kindness right? I giggle to myself as I pay for the lingerie. I hid it in my purse so he wont see it. It’ll be my gift for him once we arrived at the vacation.

After a few moments, I called Scara over the phone, I have it with me all these time, though I feel guilty for making him run to the car and look for my phone but again I’ll repay his efforts later.

After explaining to him that the phone was actually in my bag, and apologizing to him, he came back to the mall and we went on and buying the stuff we need.

Once we got back home, we started packing our things and soon get ready for bed. I was brushing my teeth at the bathroom’s sink when I felt a pair of arms wrapped around my waist, I looked at the reflection in the mirror to see my husband is clinging onto me.

“Yes? May I help you” I asked but all I can hear was mumbling as he hid his face in the crook of my neck. I finished brushing my teeth and that’s when my husband decided to start trailing kisses on my neck. Soon he found the spot that makes my legs quiver and starts to abuse it.

“Hun…you’re gonna leave a mark again-ah!” I squeal, his hands is now groping my breast—I wasn’t wearing any bra now since we were about to sleep. He is playing with my now hardened nipples through my shirt as he continues to suck on my skin.

“What has gotten-nggh hah- into you?” I tried to speak but he just continue his ministrations getting harsher and harsher each second. I’m starting not too like this. “Scara…scara…stop!” And just then he finally listened to me. I looked at him confusedly. “ ‘m sorry darling, I-I just…” he kept silent, he looks down at his feet before leaving the bathroom after giving me a kiss on the cheeks.

Now I felt bad, he looks so sad after I stopped him. I don’t usually mind it when he suddenly does something like that but somehow tonight was different. I finished preparing for bed, I saw a newly placed red mark over the hickeys that he also gave me from our last intimate moment. I went to our shared bedroom. There I saw him, sitting at the edge of the bed, his head still hung low.

I slowly approach him and sat next to him, I put a hand on his back and when I saw him flinch from my touch, I felt like my heart drops to my stomach. “Oh, darling… look I’m sorry about earlier… I was just stressed, my boss told me I need to go to work tomorrow even if I already told them we’re going to a vacation. You know how busy I’ll get when I’m at work and I might go home very late and I don’t want to miss our flight tomorrow night.” He kept rambling to me as I listen to him.

After he stops, I just pulled him into a hug “hey, it’s okay. You can go to work tomorrow, I don’t really mind.” He tightens the hugs as he puts his head again on my shoulder. “But our vacation, I planned the whole thing and you rarely have time for vacation, this is a once in a lifetime chance!” He rambles, “hey hey it’s okay, I’m okay with it my love. If it’s an urgent matter then you should go.” I said as I pulled away from the hug.

He still looks so stressed over his work so I decided to distract him. I pulled him once again for a kiss, a long passionate one. He was surprised at first but soon he returned the kiss, although he is still quite tense as I climbed on his lap.

“B-but… I thought… you don’t want to-mmph” he said as he tried to pull away from the kiss. “Shh, just relax. Do you want to do this?” I asked him, he stopped for a moment before giving me a small nod. “Words my dear, use your words” I lift his chin to make him look directly into my eyes, he looks so desperate. I can already feel his cock going hard under me-almost feels like he’s not wearing anything under his shorts.

“Yes, please~” he whines, I immediately crash my lips back to his as I slowly grind on his hardened dick while his hands are placed on my waist. I move my kisses to trace his jawlines down to his throat, as I start to suck on his neck, he kept whimpering. My mind was set on pleasuring him tonight, making sure he is free from any stress.

“D-darling nggh~” He released a loud moan as I start to palm his cock through his damp shorts, now I’m 100% sure he doesn’t wear anything under his shorts as his shorts is now wet with his pre-cum. “Yes yes, just relax baby~ I’ll take care of you tonight. Let me take away all your stress.” I stepped down from his lap and kneel in between his legs. He looks at me with desperation and lust on his eyes.

I trail kisses on his clothed bulge, before pulling down his shorts and freeing his cock that hits his belly. He takes a sharp breathe when I start to pump his dick. I start giving the tip a few licks before taking half of his dick in my mouth. His head was immediately thrown back when I started sucking him, his hand is tangled on my hair, pulling it up like a ponytail before trying to push my head down to take all of him.

I looked up at him as he breathe heavily while moaning my name, I can see his eyes roll back every time I bobbed my head down. “Darling-hah oh yes! God you’re mouth feels so great mhmp” he whines more, I feel his dick start twitching in my mouth indicating that he’s close. He is now thrusting his hips to gain more friction, fucking his dick in to the back of my throat, he is already lost in the pleasure as I feel the wetness dripping from my cunt.

“Shit shit shit-aah fuck! ‘m coming! Can I come in your-hah mouth d-darling?” He said to which I just bobbed my head faster, chasing his high. Soon, he cums down my throat with a loud moan while pushing my head deeper, his dick is hitting the back of my throat as he releases more of his load.

After finally calming down from his high, he pulls out his dick from my mouth. He looks at me while he holds my cheek with one hand, I swallowed his cum and pulls out my tongue to show him. He just smiled at me and help me stand up.

Just as he thought I was finished, I pulled down my panties, before sitting down back on his lap and grinds on his cock once again. “Shit…” I muttered as the tip of his dick grind on my clit. I adjusted myself before inserting his dick inside me, which made him moan once again.

“Oh fuck! So good~” I moaned as I felt his cock hit the spot that makes me see stars. I started to ride him slowly, bouncing on him as his hands are on my hips, guiding me. “Mmhm i love you-hah, i love you so much… my darling wife hnngh” he kept whimpering as he now controls the pace, thrusting his hips harder as he makes me ride him.

I pulled him once again to a kiss, my hand is on his shoulder for support while the other one is tugging on his hair, which makes him whimper in to the kiss. “I love you so much… baby~ aahh nghh” I couldn’t help but feel the ecstasy overflowing me as he kept pounding on that same spot. Sooner or later, we both ended up cumming on the same time, before laying down on the bed. He still hasn’t pulled out yet as some of his come drips down my thighs.

We are both breathing heavily, we pulled each other for one last kiss before sleep engulf us.

Extra notes!:

Another part done! First, I’d like to apologize for not uploading earlier, our vacation started last week but there are still a lot of things we had to do, especially the preparation for our recognition that happens today (I was one of the honor students so yay!). Secondly, this part might seem rushed especially the smut scene, don’t worry, I will get back at the next part. Lastly, I still don’t know how I will end this story, I don’t really have a story board for this, I just wrote it after I enjoyed the c.ai bot version of this. So I’m not sure how much part this will have.

Oh and also I’m accepting request, I still don’t have any rules regarding it, but you can still send in your requests already, I’m fine with writing whatever you want as long as it doesn’t mention incest, underage sex, or any particular trauma like SA.

#genshin impact #genshin impact au #genshin impact smut #genshin wanderer #encanto x reader #wanderer x you #wanderer x reader #wanderer smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader smut #genshin impact scaramouche #kunikuzushi smut #kabukimono #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin scaramouche #genshin x reader smut #genshin x y/n

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second-star-to-motunui · 2 years

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Hello! I saw ur how animals love or something like that with Twisted Wonderland and I was wondering if u could do same with malleus, azul, floyd and Jade (maybe for their part + including Azul, u could make them in their "animal" form, I said "animal" bc they have half of the top of their body human only bottom is animal what I saw in the image) it's okay if u don't wanna! Sorry bad english

How Do Animals Love? Pt 2

Feat. Octavinelle; Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Floyd Leech and Malleus Draconia

How do they show love with their animal sides?

They/Them pronouns for reader. Reader is referred to as Yuu.

A/N: I intended to add the fish mafia to the first part but couldn’t decipher a damn thing about how morays or octopus show affection to mates or if they even do that so buckle up and get ready for my bullshit marine biology report lol ✨

Octopuses show affection with cuddling! They are very curious creatures and tend to learn about new things with lots of touching!

Azul more than likely won’t allow Yuu to see his animal form unless they are very close and they swear not to tell anyone how chubby he is in said form. Until then, he’s always got his hands on them, cradling their face and rubbing their cheeks or just wrapping an arm around them. Yuu is basically his personal body pillow.

His tentacles have a mind of their own. Azul can’t stop himself from wrapping them around Yuu just to hold them close. Yuu leaves cuddle sessions looking like they’re covered in hickies from head to toe. Those suction cups are no joke. Jade and Floyd tease them and Azul relentlessly for this.

“Hm? Oh hello, angelfish! No, don’t go, I was just doing some work. Sit here and let me hold you. We can do whatever you like once I’m done… My dear, why are you wearing that? Nobody needs to see the marks from my tentacles on your body! The twins are still bullying me after last time! … *sigh* You are lucky you’re adorable.”

Morays are weird little freaks of nature. Their “affection” is basically not biting the hell out of you so long as you give them food and pets.

In Jade’s case, he prefers pets! He’s a little touched starved so when he’s in need of love, Yuu can expect him to suddenly wrap them in a warm hug from behind or nuzzle into their neck to leave kisses or bites if he’s in a certain mood.

Sometimes Jade will show up to Ramshackle just for some love. There’s nothing he loves more than laying in Yuu’s lap with his arms around them while they stroke his hair. He also really likes massages. Giving them or receiving? Both, he’s happy either way.

“Yuu, my darling, are you busy right now? I had a rather long day at the Monstro Lounge and I could use a recharge… Oh, you give such healing hugs. How would you like to go for a swim with me today?”

Ever heard of the diver who fed a moray for 5-6 years so every time she went diving the moray would show up for pets? That is Yuu and Floyd.

Floyd likes to joke about how delicious Yuu look and playfully trying to bite their cheek. Yuu, taking the shenanigans a bit too literally, now gives Floyd snacks so he’ll stop staring at them with hungry eyes.

He’s not actually gonna eat them of course! But hey, he’s not gonna say no to free snacks. Plus the fact this little human’s first reaction to seeing Floyd is holding up a cookie or something is indescribably cute and hilarious to him.

“Oh woe is me, I feel dizzy! I could certainly go for some delicious shrimp right now… Lil Shrimpy! Don’t give me that look! You know I’m just teasing ya, c’mere. *smooch* I actually am hungry though. Let’s get Jade to cook us something tasty!”

Dragons hoard shiny things and other stuff they consider treasure. That includes Yuu.

Nobody actually knows if Malleus has his own dragon treasure hoard. There’s rumors that his hoard lies somewhere in an abandoned castle in his hometown or in a secret place on Sage’s Island. Surprise! It’s in Ramshackle Dorm. Malleus sees Yuu as his most precious treasure so naturally he ended up leaving shiny objects around the dorm. It started with little things like gold coins or little jewels until it became a full blown hoard.

Yuu just moves all of Malleus’s treasure items into an empty bedroom where nobody grim can mess with it. Now that room is kind of like their nest. Malleus loves to lay in there with Yuu in his arms, hidden away from the world. A room full of beautiful jewels and gold and other treasures but his eyes remain on Yuu.

“Do you like that diamond I found, child of man? You may keep it if you like… Lay here with me for a moment, darling. Does this not feel like a fairytale? A dragon guards a castle and inside lies mountains of treasure and a beautiful prince/princess… Only I won’t let any knights steal you away from me.”

#ren writes #twisted wonderland #twst #twst yuu #twst x gn reader #twst x yuu #octavinelle #diasomnia #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #malleus draconia

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cuddl3s4shur1 · 11 months

Text

•𝐁𝐎𝐗𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒•

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆:Earth 1610! Miles x F! Y/N

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓,’𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏:REUNION

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎:Your old bestfriend moves in with you for a while , during that time you gain feelings

𝐀\𝐍: This a little cute or whatever

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆:I dont know its a little angst but it gets happy an lovie dovie

Your room was like heaven in your eyes. It had most things you loved in ONE room. Your favorite books, your tv, your pc, And lastly your personal space. No one ever telling you about what you’re supposed to do in your room.

And yet all of them would come crashing down on one random day in June.

——————————————————

You would get up to your room taking another way to get up there instead of just coming in through the front door. You would get to your room like you always do. You were about to start your after-school routine, listen to music, and do your homework.

You open the door to see your room split in. Emotions would all come at you at once. You didn’t know what emotion you wanted to feel. But one that practically took over all the rest was confusion.

Why was it two twin beds instead of your queen, why were all of your beloved precious items pushed to one side while the other had items you never saw before,

“Mamá, ¿por qué mi habitación está a la mitad? ( Mommy, why is my room in half) “ you yell to her dance downstairs

You run downstairs, and in the process, you definitely felt like you missed a step, your mom was in the kitchen working on a meal.

You saw her recipe cards on the table.

Was family coming over you thought to yourself? your mother would only pull her recipe cards out if she had invited people over and wanted to impress them.

“Mama what’s going on first my room, Ahora tarjetas de recetas ( now recipe cards) . “you ask her confused about everything

The doorbell started to ring, she dusted her hands on her cooking apron. She would then remove the apron and head to the door . “ looks like the surprise came earlier than anticipated “ she would say.

“ You look at her confused, what surprise, and who on earth was at the front door?

“Honey this might be a little different for you, but remember Miles your childhood best friend, “ she asks you.

That’s when you knew exactly what was happening: she probably invited him over, but little did she know that you guys fell out a year ago.

“Sí, mamá ( yes mama) “

“Well I ran into his mom at the store, and You know Jeff is on a business trip, so u said they could stay with us... Isn't that great “ she says?

You begin to force a smile on your face “Yeah it's great “ you tell her.

“I was hoping they would come later so the food would be done, it's good there here now so they can get used to the home, “ she says, she answers the door.

You were trying to decide if you wanted to you upstairs or stay downstairs and introduce them to the house. You chose to stay downstairs you knew mama rio would want to see you.

“Ah, mi chica, mi chica (Ah my girl, my girl) “Mama Rio goes in for a hug with your mom

. “Te echaba de menos (I missed you) “ you mom whispered to Mrs. Rio

“Where’s my baby Y/n, I haven't seen her in forever, “Mama Rio says.

You walk close to the door and hug her.

She starts to squeeze you tight in her arms “I missed you too mama “ you hug her.

“Cariño, ¿dónde has estado? No te he visto desde el año pasado (Baby where have you been, I haven't seen you since last year ) “ mama Rio asks you.

“I've been busy you know “ you tell her

“ Mi chica, necesito que vengas a verme más ( my girl, I need you to come see me more)”she demands to you

she tells you “I’m sorry, I promise I’ll see more, “You tell her

, Miles brushes past you and starts to head upstairs. With bags in his hand . You go upstairs also and follow his lead . He places 2 bags in the room next to yours .

Mama rio was going to sleep their

Then he went into the room that you guys were going to share . He places his bags and go back downstairs. You were confused on why . You left it alone and went to your PC and started to work on your computer .

“So how’s life been “ miles try’s to break the silence you turn around while staying in your chair .

“Well and yours “ you ask him.

“I understand we're not really on speaking terms with each other but just so you know I still care about you, “ he tells you.

“Then if you care so much why did you start acting different and ghost me, “ you ask him “It's hard to explain, “ he says.

“just tell me the truth , when we fell out you made me seem like I something wrong like I made you go away “ you told him

“Thats not it y/n , i can’t tell you why “ he tells you , your mind goes confused.

“ok, thats fine, when you want to ... Then you can talk to me, “ you tell him and go back to doing what you needed to do.

He felt his heart beating fast like it was aching to tell you the truth.

He let out a sigh “You know Spider-Man “ he asks you, you turn around “ ofc, I mean you should know I love spider-man” you tell him

“Right right, we’ll let’s just say you know I know him, “ he says, you start to smile.

“Like really know him, Spider-man is me “Y'all both go silent, and a stare-off starts. You let out a tiny scram of excitement, he pulls you in his arm with his web shooter. He covers your mouth with his hand.

“Shh,” he tells you, “Y/n are you good “ your mom yells

He removes his hand from your mouth “Yes I’m good, it was a spider but Miles killed it “ you lied to your mom.

You guys both look at each other, you looking up at him, him looking down at you. His arm still on your waist .

“You can let go of my waist now, “ you tell him

. He removes his arm and you back up.

“Well uh that’s cool, I’m going to you know listen to music and do my work “

You say awkwardly and sit back down.

He was happy, he got his best friend and some new feelings for her Also.

#miles morales x reader #miles morales #atsv x you #spiderman miles morales #miles morales x you #miles morales prowler #miles morales fic #miles morales fluff #miles morales x y/n #morales miles #earth 1610 #earth 1610 miles morales x reader

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hoedamn-eron · 5 months

Text

baby, please - part 17

It's your first Christmas without your family, but Santiago makes it up to you.

Warnings: Mega heavy on Christmas talk. Mentions of pregnancy complications from the previous chapter. Mentions of shitty in-laws. Gabrielle isn't actually in it, but she's being a bit distant but you know. It's fine. Lot's of dialogue, again. Not proofread whatsoever. Santi and Frankie have an argument we're not privvy to. Word count: 4,724 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

Apologies this is late, but here is Christmas with Santi! I did mention it in a post, but I'll mention it again here: please be aware that part 18 won't be posted until 11/01 (11th January) due to a busy Christmas period. I need to catch up with myself, and I start a new job in the New Year, so I won't be to write as much as I was able to before.

Edited because Gabs isn't married to Andy, she's married to Matthew 😂 it's Courtney who is married to Andy! Now I'm going to have to double check all of my chapters to see if everyone is married to the correct person 😂

Part 16 ● Series Masterlist ● Part 18

You’d been taking it easy since your stay at the hospital a few weeks ago.

You took less responsibilities at work (your friends wanted you to cut down on your hours, but you just couldn’t do that), and you begrudgingly accepted the help of others to help you pack for your move next month. Speaking of your friends, they’d been checking in on you multiple times a week, and every time, you tell them you’re fine. Really.

The twins were fine. You were fine. Everyone was fine.

“You have a case of placenta previa.”

You look at Dr Montgomery, confused, from your place on the ultrasound table. “What’s that?”

“Your placenta is low, and covering the cervix,” she replied, looking at the screen as she pressed a few keys on the keyboard, then moving the wand over your bump. “Usually, it’s detected at your 20-week ultrasound, but it must have been missed, especially since you’re having twins.”

“Is it...is everyone okay, is it dangerous?”

“It can be risky, but we’ll keep an eye on you,” Dr Montgomery said. “The bleeding was caused by this, and stress. You’ll need to come back for another ultrasound at 32 to 33 weeks. It may have moved on its own by then, but otherwise, we may have to look at a caesarean birth at 37 weeks.”

“What? No! I wanted to go as natural as possible,” you say, your eyes widening. You had a plan! “I can’t be out of commission for 6 weeks with twins!”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not what you wanted, but I strongly advise you look into it,” she replies, giving you a sympathetic look before turning off the machine. “I also recommend you take it easy if you can. I’m not saying strict bed rest, but just...relax a bit more.”

So that’s what you’ve done...you’ve relaxed. You’ve downloaded a kick counting app, something you should have done a while ago, so you could count the kicks from the babies, just in case. So far, they’d been back to normal – and by ‘normal’, you mean they were using your bladder as a soccer ball, with a shot to the kidneys every now and then.

Santi had arrived in the hospital just as Dr Montgomery had given you the okay to go home. Beth had left just after the results of your ultrasound (at your insistence), so you were packing your bag as Santi ran into your room, breathless and eyes wide. You’d looked at him with equally as wide eyes, before you hurriedly caught him up, telling him everything was okay, that you just needed to take it easy.

You introduced him to Dr Montgomery, who explained the situation a little better. It calmed Santi down a little, but you still noticed him tapping his foot as he nodded along, his hands resting on his hips as he listened intently. He kept glancing at you, as if you would collapse or suddenly disappear.

He gave you a lift home (in his truck) and insisted he stay for dinner. He cooked some food for the both of you, and you both ate on your couch, Santi wanting to know every detail to what happened. He apologised again and again for not being there, but you told him it was Thanksgiving weekend, you don’t blame him for not being there. No-one could predict what would have happened.

Dr Montgomery had booked you in for another scan a few days before Christmas. Santi insisted on going with you, which you were grateful for, of course. Unfortunately, your placenta hadn’t moved much, and you were booked in for a c-section for the end of January.

You sulked as you walked out of the hospital, pouting.

Santi gave you a small nudge, walking beside you. “Hey, it’s going to be okay.”

“I wanted to give birth naturally,” you mumble, as you both approach the truck.

Santi grabs your arm gently, stopping you as you stop at the bed of the truck. “I know it’s not what you wanted, and that does suck for you. I’m sorry. But Dr Montgomery said it was the safest option for you and them.”

You sighed. “I feel like it’s...it’s like I’m not...like I’ve already failed as a mother, by bringing them into the world that way.”

Santi looks at you, his eyes filled with empathy. He places a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Listen to me," he says, his voice soft but firm. "Having a c-section doesn't make you any less of a mother. What matters is that you and the babies are safe. That's the priority."

You lean against the truck, staring at the ground as a mix of emotions wash over you. "I just wanted everything to be perfect, you know? A beautiful, natural birth story to tell them when they're older."

Santi gently lifts your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Life never goes according to plan, especially when it comes to something as unpredictable as having kids. We should know.” he grins at you, wiggling his eyebrows a little.

You give a small laugh at his quip.

He continues. “But that doesn't lessen the love you have for them or the strength it takes to do what's best for their well-being." He pauses, before giving you a reassuring smile. "You're not failing as a mom. If anything, you're making the tough decisions now because you love them so much."

You take a deep breath, absorbing his words, before nodding. “Okay.”

Santi studies you for a moment. “C’mere.” He pulls you into a comforting hug, and you melt into him, allowing the warmth of his embrace to provide a momentary escape from the overwhelming emotions of your appointment with Dr Montgomery. "We'll get through this together.”

You nod against him, just holding him a little longer than necessary before pulling away. “Thank you.”

He gives another laugh. “Don’t thank me for speaking the truth, querida.”

You wipe away at the few stray tears in your eyes before turning to him. “Come on, I gotta get home. Help me get in this junk heap.”

“Hey, don’t insult my truck,” Santi says in mock offence, before he smirks and opens the door for you, and helps you climb in.

He drives you in silence as you talk to him about work, how you’ve taken a step back and you hate it but you’re willing to do it for less stress. Harriet was a little apprehensive when you told her, that she needed you on board for this newest client, that the product was about to launch but you didn’t back down. You told her that you weren’t backing away, but just taking on less of the load. Emily and Kelsie were happy to take some of the tasks; Hell, Kelsie was practically frothing at the mouth for the opportunity to add on some more responsibility than she already had. She told you herself she wanted most of the glory since this was her first big client.

“Bit of a shitty thing for Harriet to do, guilt trip you like that.”

You shrug. “That’s just Harriet. I’ve grown used to it,” you say. “Been there long enough.”

“Since graduation, right?”

You nod. “Yup.”

“Ever thought about leaving?”

Your eyes widened as you turn to look at him. “Why would I do that? I’ve built myself up, I have a relationship and reputation with clients.”

Santi shrugged nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the road. “I dunno. Seems like you’re underappreciated and overworked, from what you’ve told me. Is there no other marketing firm in Florida?”

“There is - “

“Shop around,” Santi said, as if he wasn’t asking you to consider leaving the only current stability you had in your life right now. “See if anyone is hiring, for a better position or just to be treated a little better.”

“I think it’ll be the same everywhere,” you say, laughing a little.

Santi shrugged. “Just putting it out there.”

You nod. “I mean...I’ll think about it. Maybe after Christmas. Or after I’m back from maternity leave.”

It goes quiet again for a few minutes before Santi asks, “What are you doing for Christmas?”

You shrug. “I have no plans. Beth offered to have me over again, but I feel like I can’t keep intruding on their time.”

“If they’ve asked you to join them, I don’t think you’ll be intruding.”

Your family had still not contacted you. You had messaged the group chat again, accepting that there would probably be no reply still (and there wasn’t). You had another episode, alone this time, sitting on your couch late at night, stereotypically sobbing into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food ice cream as you watched Home Alone. It had been your favourite as a child, and something you had watched together with your family, after you’d put the decorations up. This year, you had no tree, no decorations, and you watched it alone.

It had been a sad night.

“You could always...” Santi said a little awkwardly, before clearing his throat. “You could always spend it with me. If you wanted. You don’t have to.”

You look at him with wide eyes, but Santi keeps his gaze on the road, an air of nervousness surrounding him. “You...want to spend Christmas with me?”

“I would have asked you to Thanksgiving but I didn’t...my sisters...”

“I wasn’t expecting you to invite me,” you said, sensing his anxiousness. “Please don’t think over on that.”

“I should have invited you - “

“Santiago,” you say, firmly, causing him to give a quick glance at you before looking back at the road, turning to your apartment’s street. “I am okay. We are okay. You were visiting your family for the first time in years. I didn’t need to be there.”

He goes silent, his jaw tensing like he wants to say something else, but he just sighs through his nose and gives a tight nod.

You reach over to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I would love to spend Christmas with you.”

“Have you spoken to Gabs recently?”

You look at Courtney with a confused look on your face as you reach for your water. “I mean, I spoke to her last week about the kids’ Christmas presents. Why?”

You and Courtney had met up for some last-minute Christmas shopping, and you stopped for some dinner before heading home. You had to admit, Gabrielle had been a little off when you spoke to her last week and you had asked if everything was okay, but she had just told you it was Christmas stress. It wasn’t so farfetched, Gabrielle hosted every year for her and Matthew’s families, so of course there was no reason to not believe her.

“Hm,” said Courtney, her brow furrowing. “She’s been a little…weird.”

You shrug. “I mean…she seemed off when I spoke to her, and I asked her about it but she said it was Christmas stress.”

Courtney shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s just…bugging me.”

“We could talk to her about it,” you say. “But you know Gabs, she’ll come to us eventually when she’s ready to let us know what’s going on.”

Courtney shook her head for a moment before giving you a look. “You’re right. You’re right! I’m just worried about her.”

“She’ll be fine,” you say. “You know what she gets like at Christmas, she’s hosting for everyone. And you know Matthew’s family.” You give Courtney a pointed look.

Courtney pulled a face. “Yeah. They’re assholes to her. But she keeps hosting!”

“Look, we tell her this every year and you know what she says – “

“’It’s only once a year’,” you both say in unison.

“Exactly,” you say. “So she’ll probably be back to normal after Christmas.”

“Fine. Fine,” said Courtney. “Let’s talk about something else. Like how you’re spending Christmas with Santiago!”

“I am,” you say, feeling your cheeks warming slightly.

“I think that’s nice,” Courtney says. “You’re like...starting your family. Getting the traditions in.”

You nod. “Yeah, I think so too. If this is something we do every year, then best start now, right?”

“You going to his place?” Courtney asked, before thanking the waitress for bringing your food over.

You nod, also thanking the waitress. “It’ll be easier since most of my stuff is packed up now. Thanks again for that, by the way.”

“No problem,” Courtney said, digging into her food. She gives you a grin. “It’s exciting, but also a little sad. It’s the end of an era, but the start of a new one.”

“In a month’s time, I’m going to be a mom,” you say, your eyes wide as if you don’t quite believe it yourself. “How weird is that?”

“Stop it,” said Courtney. “Who knew you would be the next one to have a kid?”

You snort, tucking into your own food. “I don’t think anyone thought I would have a kid, full stop.”

“No,” said Courtney, shaking her head. “I think you would have. Just in ten years.”

“Well, life didn’t work out how I’d planned,” you said, laughing. “But it’s good. Life is good.”

“And you’re happy?” Courtney asked.

Were you? Happy? You go quiet as you think. Obviously, you hadn’t planned to get pregnant, and with twins for that matter, in your tiny one-bedroom apartment, or not be speaking to your parents, or be questioning your job. But here you were, about to finish the year with a new house, amazing friends, new babies, and Santi.

Oh, Santi.

You never thought you would have met someone like Santi, even though you both weren’t together-together. You were lucky to have him; most men after one-night-stands would have left by now, but not Santi. He was sticking around, and in it for the long run. And honestly, you know he wouldn’t feel the same way about you than you felt about him, but he loved you as a friend and the mother of his kids, and you adored that he wanted to help you raise these babies together.

You slowly smile and look at Courtney. “Yeah…yeah, I’m happy.”

You pull up outside Santi’s apartment, taking a deep breath before climbing out of the car. You'd been simultaneously looking forward to Christmas with Santi, and dreading Christmas with Santi. He told you that it was his first year spending it in Florida since returning from Colombia and warned you that his Christmas dinner would probably be something he could quickly rustle up and wasn’t too much hassle - ‘very non-traditional’ was what he said. You didn’t mind; the year had been incredibly ‘non-traditional’ for you anyway.

You make your way up to his apartment, a large bag of presents in your hand. You knock, biting your lip nervously as you waited for Santi to open the door. You look up as the door opens, and you give a laugh at Santi. He was wearing an obnoxiously bright red jumper with a Santa knitted into it, and a Santa hat, and was wearing his usual jeans. He had a bottle of beer in his hand.

He holds his arms out wide as he grins at you. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas,” you say as you step inside, still laughing at his outfit.

Santi closes the door behind you before he brings you into a quick hug. “I don’t have much of an itinerary today, but Frankie and Sarah might stop by later with Sofía.”

You nod, pulling back from him. “That works out, actually, because I got something for Sofía,” you say, motioning to your bag.

Santi gives you a small, closed-lipped smile. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know I didn’t,” you say. “I wanted to. They’re a big part of your life, therefore, they’ll be a big part of our kids’ lives.”

Santiago doesn’t say anything as you make your way into his living room, where he had a small Christmas tree in the corner, overly decorated. You hear Santi make his way into the kitchen as you took the presents out of bag and placed them underneath, smiling as the pile grew. You look up as Santi makes his way into the living room. “Some of these from your sisters?”

He nodded, handing you a can of Diet Coke. “Yeah. I saw them last week, dropped off gifts then. I just got off the phone with them, since my nieces had just opened their Barbie dolls, with their cars, and pets, and accessories...”

You giggled, opening the can. “There’s an awful lot of girls in your family.”

He nodded, grinning. “I have a few cousins who are guys, who had a few boys. I'm not totally overruled.”

You give a small laugh as you sip at your drink. “So, do you want to do presents now? Or later? We could eat first, if you wanted.”

“The empanadas are resting in the fridge, and I have mac and cheese in the slow cooker,” said Santi, taking a gulp at his almost forgotten beer. “Got all sorts of vegetables and potatoes roasting in my oven too.”

“Sounds like a feast,” you say. You could feel your mouth watering. “Maybe we could eat soon?” you give Santi a big smile.

He chuckles at you before nodding. “I’ll put the empanadas in.”

You nod as Santi disappeared back through the kitchen. You look at the presents, and the small tree, and the fact that his living room was bare of any other decorations. Your mind wandered to the fact that this was his first Christmas since settling down, that he was in an actual home and not in a shack or seedy motel somewhere in South America. You really appreciated that he offered you his place for the day, that he’d gone out of his way – and his comfort zone – to bring you into his space again.

“Are you okay? Did something happen?”

You look up at him, blinking in confusion before you realise you were crying. You give a small laugh of slight embarrassment. “I didn’t realise I was crying, I'm sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, cariño,” he said, taking a seat next to you on the floor, giving you a concerned look as he rested his hand in the middle of your back. “Is there anything I can do for you? I knew today would be difficult, I don’t want you to be here if you don’t want to be - “

“No, Santi, really, I'm fine,” you say, cutting him off. “I’m just hormonal. I cry at everything.”

He hesitated for a moment before asking, “I don’t want you to feel obligated to be here, just because I asked - “

“I want to be here, Santi,” you say, reaching over and squeezing his hand that was still wrapped around a beer. “Really, I’m fine. I just...I like that I'm here, you know? I like that you want me here.”

Santi paused for a moment, looking at you before he gives a grin. “Of course, I want you here.”

You give another weak laugh. “Okay then.”

You help him in the kitchen with the food, and of course as soon as you sit down to eat, Frankie and Sarah make their way through with Sofía, profusely apologising for interrupting for not texting beforehand. Santi told them it was fine, and after a few hugs and a quick catch up between you and the Morales’, you all sit to have something to eat.

You get to know the Morales’ a little more intimately than you did on Halloween; you were in a smaller setting with fewer people, and Sarah wasn’t so distracted by the other guests. She was fun, and loud, and someone you could see getting along with for a long time. Frankie was the opposite; quiet, and observant, but you could see how much he opened up to Santi. He wasn’t rude to you at all, including you in the conversation when he could, and you could see why Santi loved him so much.

And then there was Sofía, who giggled at everything you said, and kept trying to steal the mac and cheese on your plate, even though Sarah kept adding more to her plate. You didn’t mind, but Sarah insisted she stop doing it (“It’s becoming a whole thing, we’re trying to nip it in the bud now, while we can!”). When you all finished dinner, you offered to do the dishes, but you were rebuffed when you were lead into the living room, Santi quickly clearing up the plates, saying he’d ‘deal with them later’.

Sarah plonks you down in the armchair by the tree before she hands you an envelope. “This is more for when the babies are here than right now, but it’s valid for three years.”

You look at her in confusion before you open the envelope, mouth falling open as you take a look at the expensive gift voucher. “Sarah, I can’t accept this!”

“Oh sure you can,” she says, waving you off.

You thank her profusely, before you lean down and grab a few boxes from under the tree. “I got some things for Sofía – “

“You didn’t have to do that!” cried Sarah.

“Don’t be silly, here,” you say, handing the toddler the boxes, who took more interest in the wrapping paper than the actual present.

As you and Sarah sit, you look up for Santi and Frankie, who were strangely quiet. You’re taken aback to find them stood close together, quietly arguing with one another. Frankie was pointing at Santi’s chest and saying something too quiet for you to hear, but it was filled with anger, nonetheless. Santi merely argued back.

You look away, putting a mental note in it. You’ll ask Santi about it later.

As Sofía played with the wooden doctor’s set, and the baby doll that you’d gotten along with it, you chatted to Sarah before Frankie finally made his way over. “I think we oughta go.”

Sarah nodded. “Shoot, you’re right, we promised we’d see your mom like, an hour ago.”

As they gather their things and say their goodbyes (Santi and Frankie were still tense), you and Santi were left alone. You look around and sigh, before looking back at him. “What was that about?”

“What?” Santi asked, going around the living room and collecting wrapping paper, avoiding eye contact.

“You and Frankie, what were you arguing about?”

“Oh, nothing,” said Santi, shaking his head. “Something stupid with Benny, you know how it is.”

You don’t feel like he’s telling you the truth, but you know if you pry, Santi is more likely to close up. You slowly nod at him. “Okay. Sure, yeah.”

He finally looks at you and gives you a tight smile. “Everything is okay, hermosa.”

You hesitate before nodding then glancing at the presents under the tree. “I think we should do our gifts now.”

“Okay,” Santi said, before patting you on the back as he passed you to go back into the kitchen, tossing the papers away.

You settle on the floor by the tree, and lean over and grab a few gifts, placing them by Santi as he joined you moments later. “I didn’t go overboard - “

“I don’t believe that,” Santi said from his own place under the tree before he pulled out a small box, wrapped somewhat neatly, and placing it in front of you. “Now, this doesn’t look like a lot but - “

“Stop, Santi, it’s fine,” you say. “It’s about the sentiment.”

Santi nodded, before going quiet, glancing at you at the present. You grin and nod to him. “You go first.”

He gives a small laugh before nodding at the boxes in front of him. “Any particular order?”

“Nope,” you reply.

Like a child, Santi didn’t have to be told twice. He immediately tore into the gifts, smiling widely at the new shirts you’d bought him, and a nice watch. He immediately put it on, before admiring it.

“This is nice,” he said, still admiring it.

“I know you like swimming, so it’s waterproof too,” you say. “And it tracks your exercise. Since you refuse to get an Apple Watch, I went for the next best thing.”

“Thank you, hermosa,” he says, before opening his last gift. He pauses as he looks down at the strap for a guitar.

“I know you’ve been trying to get back into it, and I know your current strap is falling apart,” you say, smiling. “I thought you could do with an upgrade. And look!” you pull the strap from the wrapping before finding the end and pointing. “I have it engraved with your initials.”

“This is…this is great, cariño. Thank you,” he said, before he stands quickly and leaves the room. He comes back a few moments later, guitar in hand as he settles back on the floor with you, practically ripping off the old strap. He puts on the new one, and why he was fiddling with it, he pushed the small box towards you. “Like I said, it’s not a lot…”

“Santi, please,” you say as you open the gift. You pause at the sight of the Tiffany box, glancing up at Santi who was now looking at your nervously.

You open the Tiffany box, to find a silver chain-link bracelet, with a charm of a Christmas tree hanging off it. You gingerly take it out the box, looking at it more closely.

“I have more charms, but I can’t give them to you yet,” he said. “I got the tree because it’s…it’s our first Christmas together.”

Oh my God, you might burst into tears.

No, actually, you’re already crying.

“Santiago,” you say, in a high-pitched cry, looking at the bracelet, at the delicate green charm of the Christmas tree.

“Oh, no,” he said, scootching over to you and bringing you into his arms, where you sobbed into shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry. If you don’t like it – “

“Don’t like it!?” you cry, pushing away from him, looking between him and the bracelet. “I love it. Put it on me!” you shove it at him before presenting your wrist to him.

Santi chuckled as he shook his head in disbelief, carefully fastening the bracelet around your wrist before he gave a soft kiss to the warmth of your skin. Your heartbeat loudly in your ears as Santi gave your wrist a squeeze and he looked at you with a warm smile on his face. You look at the bracelet, the charm sitting pretty. You smiled widely at it, tears still falling down your cheeks.

“Please, stop crying,” laughed Santi, reaching up to wipe your years away.

“I can’t,” you say, laughing back as you look at him. “I’m pregnant, and hormonal, and you got me a really nice, sappy gift. I love it.”

“Good. I’m glad.” He goes quiet for a moment before he swallows nervously. “I…”

You look at him as he goes quiet. “Yeah?”

The two of you just staring at each other. Eyes locked onto his, you search for the words that seem to linger unspoken on his lips. There's a certain vulnerability in his silence, a hesitance that hangs in the air like the delicate balance before a confession.

"What is it?" you prompt again gently, your heart quickening in anticipation.

His eyes flicker nervously, and you can almost sense the internal struggle within him. It's as if he's wavering on the edge of an abyss, grappling with emotions that have finally found their way to the surface. Could he…could he be trying to say what you think he…

He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling in tandem with the weight of his unspoken words. You can feel the gravity of the moment, the tension building between you two, as if the universe itself is holding its breath in anticipation of what he's about to say.

“The next charm you’ll get is in a few weeks, at the baby shower,” Santi finally said, after a long pause.

Oh. That wasn’t what you expected at all. You were –

Wait.

You pause, your brow furrowing as you look at him, tears finally stilling. “The what?”

Santi freezes, his face falling as he looks at you. “Oh, shit.”

Tagged - @khonsulockley, @bluenredndeath, @superficialfeelings, @othersideoftheparadise, @beezusvreeland, @itsmytimetoodream

#triple frontier #santiago garcia x reader #santiago x reader #santiago garcia #oscar isaac #pregnant!reader #santiago garcia x f!reader

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