#they're not hiding they're just not shoving it in everyone's faces

[skylarbee]

you can poke your head behind the mountain peak, don't have to mean that you've gone into hiding

#you can't see it but you know alex is smiling like a fool #well probably both of them are really #I'm still feeling so emotional after yesterday #i don't mind us not getting more than this #i don't mind them hugging in the dark #it just shows that they don't have to put their love on display and brag about it to everyone else #they can just show each other and that's enough #that's what love is about no? #they're not hiding they're just not shoving it in everyone's faces #(they know we know anyways) #if you look up the definition of true love their name will pop up #“we've gone through a lot together” miles said in a recent interview and it could've made me sad because it includes the hard times too #but it's precisely because of the hard times and not letting those beat them and tear them apart is why they're still here #and still thriving and loving each other and being best friends #they really said “we're gonna fight everything that comes our way and we're still gonna hold each other's hands at the end of it” #aaaaaand I'm crying #don't ever doubt their love guys #miles kane #alex turner #milex #arctic monkeys #the car tour #tlsp #the last shadow puppets #505 #body paint

[honeydazai]

୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ sending them suggestive pictures while they're at work

feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Ranpo, Fukuzawa, Fyodor, Sigma

content: nsfw, female reader, spanking, sexting, oral sxx, masturbation, semi public

It's not unusual for DAZAI to tap away on his phone during work hours, so no one — except for Kunikida, who still hasn't given up on glaring — pays it any mind when his smirk widens at his screen. What remains a secret, however, is that he's not looking at some funny tweet but instead at your tits, the blue lace of your bra making for a pleasant contrast in colour.

He's awfully smug about the whole ordeal, really; also, who is he not to play along? He definitely sends you not only some appreciative words back, but also a picture of his own, featuring either his hands — he does know that you're quite fond of his fingers, after all —, his face — because you can never complain about that! —, or his by now half-hard dick, pressing against his trousers, even though taking soft nudes borders on workplace indecency. Oh, and your pictures are definitely saved and stored away on his phone for later usage.

[new message from Dazai] “someone's needy, harassing me during work hours! just kidding bella!! you're so cute xx stunning too! how am i supposed to listen to kunikida any longer when you're so so pretty? :( ill call out sick, be there in 20 x”

CHŪYA really doesn't expect to see anything but a picture of a dog you saw outside or of a particularly pretty flower when he spares a brief glance at his phone during a Port Mafia meeting. It's already disrespectful, though he doesn't plan on anyone noticing the miniscule action — that is, until he all but chokes on his coffee at the photo of you, legs spread wide, two fingers deep inside of yourself, wearing not only his favourite lingerie set, but also one of his ties.

He tries hard to ignore the way everyone stares at him when he, all too abruptly, excuses himself to the bathroom, his face bright red. In the safety of a stall, he really can't do anything but shove his trousers to his knees, one hand immediately closing around his dick while he types your number into his phone with his free one — and while he might snap at you, oh so flustered, he's also so damn turned on that he can barely focus on anything but the sound of your voice and your photo.

“Fucking Hell, babe—, God, with how Mori was looking at me, I bet he knew what was up. Fuck—, send me another one, please, I'm so damn close, ah—”

Business meetings aren't RANPO'S favourite way to spend time. They're awfully boring, making him huff and sigh when he has to sit through them — though this one gets a lot more interesting the moment he clicks on a text message from you. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of your panties, pure lace and hiding not even the slightest bit just how wet you are, thighs glistening, though that's about all the physical reaction he's going to show. The fact that his dick strains against his trousers is no one's business.

He is, however, quick to text you back, amusement dripping from his messages, and if Fukuzawa wasn't already watching him with sharp eyes, he'd sneak away to the bathroom to call you. For now, you'll just have to do with sexting — this meeting is going to go on for a while, especially if he won't soon start contributing, and he's unfortunately got better things to do.

[new message from Ranpo] “having fun without me? youre so mean. at least send me more pics im dyin g here... maybw bend over or— ooo i know, we bought that toy a while ago, right? why don't you use that one for me, doll....”

FUKUZAWA sucks in a sharp breath the second his eyes fall onto your form clad in nothing but one of his yukatas, and even though he attempts to remain calm, he's already blushing, arousal churning low in his stomach. Really, he was just trying to take a miniscule break from all the paperwork he's facing — besides, the cat ringtone signaling your message did sound rather urgent! —, though now he's not certain whether he can focus on it again.

He ends up typing “This is most inappropriate.” in response, though he never sends it, instead replacing it with a “You look stunning.”, only to never send that one either. In the end, he just quits work a little earlier that day and hurries home faster than he'd ever want to admit, cheeks still flushed with arousal when he joins you in bed, immediately slotting himself between your pretty thighs, long fingers spreading your folds apart and into your cunt to prepare you — only to realise you've long done that yourself. How convenient. He might reprimand you a little afterwards, though both of you realise it's not to be taken seriously. When he's honest with himself, he rather liked that photo — and he'll definitely keep it.

“That was awfully inappropriate. Darling, you know I enjoy getting to hear from you during the day, and yet — what? I didn't mind you wearing my clothing in the slightest. I was worried about someone from the Agency seeing the picture. In fact, wear my clothes again whenever you feel like it. Please do. You looked quite irresistible.”

It's almost unfair just how seemingly unbothered FYODOR is. When checking his phone during a Decay of Angels meeting, aware that you know not to contact him except for important reasons, he merely glances at the photo lewdly depicting your raised skirt and the curve of your behind before putting it back into his pocket. Really, it's downright adorable that you're attempting to tease him — you should know better by now, darling.

While he doesn't bother with a response, he certainly makes sure to pay attention to you when he returns home. And, oh, the next time you want to toy with him, he sure hopes you remember this very moment, of you bent across his lap, his hand coming down ever so often on your butt, on the soft skin of your upper thighs, making you cry out with every slap. The marks, at least, will serve as a nice reminder, especially when you keep forgetting to thank him for every hit.

“There we go, dear. Ah, ah — don't cry now. This is what you wanted, is it not? My undivided attention — and you certainly have it, now. Which number were we on again? Tell me, darling, or we will have to start over, I'm afraid.”

The second SIGMA spares a quick glance at his phone, only to stumble upon a rather revealing picture you just sent him — and, God, 'rather revealing' is an understatement when he's able to see just how wet you are, thighs spread for the camera —, his face heats up significantly, earning him some odd looks from the other men he's currently in a meeting with. In a desperate attempt to regain professionalism, he clears his throat, trying to simply continue, but it's as if every thought has been erased from his mind and was replaced by you.

When getting home that evening, he's calmed down considerably, cheeks still warm with the memory of you being this bold, though his sudden calmness might just change when you expect him in that exact same position, legs wide apart, the smile on your face teasing — and who is he not to end up on his knees in front of you, tongue flattening against your cunt while both of you let out breathy moans? In the end, he's all but begging you to return the favour.

“Ah, God, I'm close. At least finish me off, please—, you were really cruel today, dear. Make it up to me? Please? Oh, fuck—”

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#honeydazai writes #bsd x reader #bsd headcanons #bsd imagines #bsd x you #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #fyodor x reader #Ranpo x reader #Fukuzawa x reader #Sigma x reader #Dazai smut #Chuuya smut #Fyodor smut #Sigma smut #Ranpo smut #Dazai headcanons #Fyodor headcanons #Bsd smut #Chuuya headcanons #fukuzawa headcanons #Sigma headcanons #Bungo stray dogs x reader #Bungo Stray Dogs headcanons #Bungo stray dogs smut #Bungo Stray dogs x you #Bungo Stray Dogs imagines #Bsd fanfic #Fyodor imagines #Dazai imagines

[keyotosprompts]

in between ᯓ★

jealousy prompts (oooooo)

⇴ person a sees person b absolutely hit it off with person c (and is very obviously pained because of it). person b comes over to talk to person a, but is only met with awkward conversation instead of the same boisterous talks they usually have.

⇴ person b sees person a with another person, and they have to bite down on their lip so hard whenever person a talks about the other person, because deep down person b wishes that a was with them (this was more pining than jealousy but oh well).

⇴ "was that a good conversation?" "oh... yeah. it was great" "great." [and there's this thick, awkward silence afterwards].

⇴ person a wishes that they could be person b. person b has it all: charisma, hilariousness, the friends, the partner, etc. (but maybe person a isn't jealous of person b... maybe person a is desperately craving person b's attention and that's why they're jealous)

⇴ person b is watching person a from afar, chatting it up with this other person. b has a strong urge to pull a away from everyone and pull a into b's own little world, but refuses because they want to keep a happy, even if it's at a cost at b's own happiness.

⇴ person a and person b are dating, and person a just finished a conversation with someone person b was jealous of. when they get home, person b is a bit more clingier and so much more touchy. cue a's teasing and b hiding their face in the crook of a's neck.

⇴ ^ "so... are you finally gonna admit you were jealous?" "uh, no, because i wasn't" (b says as they press kisses to a's neck and hold a close to their body).

⇴ "you guys look good together." "really?" (and a/b wants to shout NO!!!!!!)

⇴ "and i love you. i love it when you do the double-tuck thing with your hair when you're nervous, does [person c] notice that? do they know that when you shove your hands in your pockets, you're really just doing it so you can fidget without anyone knowing? or, what about the way you look at people–" and person a is in total shock the whole time.

⇴ "i can't take it anymore. i want–need you. i don't care about what [person c] thinks, i only care about you. tell me you need me too, and i'll stay."

⇴ person b is sulking after seeing person a reunite with someone they've been close to since forever (think family friend...yikes). person a thinks it's adorable and goes to "comfort" b by peppering their face with kisses and giving them words of affirmation.

⇴ "hey" kiss on the jaw "you don't have anything to worry about" kiss on the corner of the lips "i chose you for a reason" kiss on the temple "you're the one i love" kiss on the lips.

⇴ ^^ cut to person b being like "really?" with a cheeky grin.

⇴ person a is about to reach out to person b, only to see person b walk past them to go see person c. person a turns around to person c and immediately feels flooded with comparisons. specifically, "why don't they like me like they like them?"

⇴ person a is constantly checking the relationship status of person b, and their heart always aches when they continue to see person c's username in person b's bio.

#keyotosprompts #fluff prompts ⋆˚✿˖° #angst prompts ⋆⑅˚₊ #dialogue prompts #angst prompts #light angst #otp prompts #otp writing #writing #writing prompts #writeblr #imagine your otp #angst #jealousy #jealousy prompts #whump writing #whump prompt #prompt list #romance prompts #idk how to tag this (is it obvious)

[wileys-russo]

you’re a mean one mrs grinch II a.putellas x reader

you’re a mean one mrs grinch II a.putellas x reader

"more?" alexia sighed in disbelief as you returned from your shopping trip, bags of decorations in hand. "yes. its december!" you rolled your eyes, reaching up to peck her lips hello ignoring her grumpy mumblings at your holiday habits.

"it looks like a shopping store window in here." alexia crinkled her nose in disgust as you had already started to put out your new decorations.

"well not everyone hates the holidays as much as you amor." you quipped, the girl rolling her eyes and helping you hang the north pole sign you had in your hands as you were just not tall enough to reach the hook.

"i do not hate christmas." "well you don't love it." "because it is all about money and presents and lies and flashy things. it is corrupt!" "sure sounds like you hate it."

"oh! wait here." you held up a hand cutting her off before she could speak, the catalan rolling her eyes and checking you were out of sight as she rushed around hiding a few of the ornaments sat around on the tv cabinet and mantle.

"look, matching!" you beamed happily holding up the matching sets of pyjama pants and tank tops, alexia grimacing at the sight of them. "princessa i am not wearing that." she refused stubbornly with a shake of her head.

"just during the night when we watch movies. no one has to even see them! they're just for me and you." you smiled softly as alexia sighed and you perked up as it looked as though she might give in.

"...no." the midfielder decided, taking a seat on the lounge.

"please alexia!" you groaned, no amount of pouting or puppy eyes getting your girlfriend to even budge an inch. "no." the girl replied bluntly, arms crossed over her chest as she leaned back into the lounge staring up at you.

"why? you're being unreasonable." you huffed, crossing your own arms and staring right back. "no." was all you got back, the older girl unwavering in her firm stare. "baby." you tried again, moving to sit down on top of her with a smile as she raised an eyebrow.

"no."

you threw your head back and groaned loudly, standing up and storming off to the bedroom. alexia watched you go, contemplating going after you but instead deciding to give you a little space and time to cool off.

"amor." you glanced up from your book with a sour glare around a half an hour later, eyes flicking back down to the pages in front of you. "bebita." she took a seat on the edge of the bed as you huffed and continued to ignore her.

"hermosaa." alexia sang out, hand reaching out to gently tug the book away and place it on the nightstand, shuffling closer to you. "no." you mocked her word from earlier sarcastically.

"you know i do not go all out for christmas." alexia's hand settled on your knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. "but it is my favorite holiday and you will not even meet me halfway." you protested. "ugly matching clothes are not halfway amor." alexia chuckled, missing the way the hurt flashed across your face at her words.

"fine." you felt a surge of anger replace the pang of pain in your stomach, pushing her hands off and storming out of the room. "hey cariño what-" her eyebrows furrowed into a frown as you began to yank down the decorations and toss them into a pile on the floor.

"what? you hate it anyway, you think it is stupid and meaningless and-" you struggled through your waves of emotions to get your words out, instead huffing and now turning to the tree continuing to pull things down, alexia's eyes widening in shock as your destruction continued.

"hey bebita no, stop por favor." alexia frowned moving to take your hands in hers, trying to pull your body in for a hug as you harshly shoved her away. "i need some air." was all you managed out, grabbing your jacket and shoes by the door and suddenly it was slamming closed and you were gone.

alexia tried calling you over and over, her worry increasing as you declined her calls again and again and the magnitude of just how much she upset you began to sink in, immediately followed by the guilt.

her hand was on the front door ready to try and find you when her phone rang, the device falling from her grip and clattering to the floor in her haste to answer, the brunette dropping to her knees and rushing it to her ear.

"hola? amor?" she breathed out without bothering to check her caller ID. "hola, grinch." alexia frowned at the unfamiliar term. "mapi?" the midfielder sighed, standing to her feet and shifting the phone against her ear.

"you have really upset her ale." the brunette wincing at the serious tone from her normally playful best friend. "is she with you? i will come now." alexia grabbed her keys and flung open the door, two steps down the hall before mapi discouraged her.

"she has gone for a drive with ingrid to see the lights display down main street. something i know she wanted to do with you!" mapi's tone softened a little as alexia sighed, retreating back into her home, yanking her jacket off and dejectedly making her way back to the sofa.

"there are a lot of things she had planned to do with you, she showed me a list she has on her phone. have you done anything for the holidays with her since the break started?" mapi questioned as alexia winced.

"...no."

"alexia." mapi sighed in disappointment from the other end of the line as the midfielder sank down into the sofa. "she is from england capi. christmas is a very big deal there and she has grown up always celebrating, always with her family, probably doing their own special traditions." mapi started to remind her friend in a warning tone.

"but she chose to stay here with you this year, to spend time with you and your family. but you cannot expect her to just forget everything she has grown up with and knows. this is not easy for her, i am sure she misses her family and how they spend the holidays together." the defender lectured as alexia sighed, body now wracked with guilt.

"she could have gone home! i told her that." alexia sighed rubbing a hand against her face tiredly. "bah ale! that girl loves you amiga and she knows how much your family mean to you. especially during the break in season when you get to see them more, and we both know how much your mami loves her." mapi laughed as alexia finally cracked a small smile, the fact truer than she often cared to admit.

"so i am not asking you to lead a christmas parade or dress up like santa clause and hand out gifts. but at least try to make sure there are things she does not need to miss during the holidays." mapi finished, the two chatting for a few more minutes before alexia ended the call and tossed her phone aside.

she had some serious work to do.

"and you know you are welcome to our house anytime yes?" ingrid asked for what felt like the tenth time this evening as you laughed, pushing her lightly and assuring you understood.

the two of you had bonded over both choosing to remain in spain for the holidays, missing the typical snowy white winters you were used to for the women you loved.

"i should get inside. i need to apologise for leaving and not even answering her calls, she is probably worried sick." you sighed, unbuckling yourself as ingrid pulled you into a tight hug and you kissed her cheek, thanking her for listening before you stepped out of the car.

sending your girlfriend a text that you were on your way up you bounced nervously on the balls of your feet as the elevator seemed to take even longer than usual to reach your floor, your hands playing with the hem of your jumper as finally the doors opened.

your eyebrows raised in surprise to see the taller girl already waiting for you outside your shared apartment, relief flooding her face at the sight of you as she met you halfway in a bone crushing hug.

"i'm sorry for leaving and ignoring you." you mumbled into her chest as she cradled your head and firmly shook hers. "i am sorry for being unreasonable hermosa." the catalan rasped apologetically, the two of you embracing one another for a few more silent but needed moments.

"did you enjoy the lights?" alexia asked once the two of you pulled away as you gave her a curious look. "mapi called, let me know you were okay." you nodded in understanding at that. "they were really nice." you smiled in response to her previous question.

"maybe we could go? take alba and mami?" alexia asked hopefully as now you really gave her a look of surprise. "but i didn't think-" she cut off your words by leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips. "close your eyes please." she pulled away and requested with a smile of reassurance.

you were aprehensive to do so but you followed her orders none the less, alexia moving behind you and covering your face with her large hands 'just to be safe'.

you heard her key rattle around in the lock for a moment before she guided you inside, steadying you as you tripped over once of her shoes and almost lost your footing. a kiss to the cheek and a soft apology murmured in your ear she continued to guide you as you tried to work out where in the house you were right now.

"open." you felt her hands drop from your face as your eyes opened, blinking a few times to adjust before your hand flew to your mouth and you looked on in awe. "alexia..." you trailed off, not just the living room but now your whole apartment decked out in various matching christmas decorations.

you melted seeing the stockings hung up, making your way over to them and tracing a singular finger over the letters on the bottom of each one indicating one was clearly yours and one was alexia's.

"i am stubborn cariño, i know that." you turned as the brunette in question began to speak, nervously playing with her fingers.

"but you have always loved me and stood by me. you gave up christmas with your own family to spend time with mine and i appreciate that more than i have allowed you to see, which is unfair." she paused as you moved closer, grabbing her hands in yours with a squeeze.

"i still do not love christmas, i never will. but i love you and i do not want you to have to give things up that you love and find special because i am a...how do you say it?" you frowned at her obvious struggle, the girls broken english though not perfect had improved since meeting you, as had your spanish.

"ah mierda mapi said it before! a gringo? no. a gri-" she continued to struggle, huffing in frustration. "a grinch?" you guessed as she exlaimed happily and nodded. "si! a grinch."

"do you even know what that is?" you laughed, moving to wrap your arms around her as she shook her head, lips moving against yours sending your head into a spin. "its perfect ale, and i love you too." you smiled resting your head against her chest.

"you are perfect hermosa." she smiled charmingly, kissing your cheeks with a grin as you blushed. "i would like to watch a movie." you stated suddenly, brushing away her hands and gesturing for her to sit down.

"one more thing. stay here!" alexia gently pushed you to sit down instead, holding up a finger and hurrying away. you busied yourself texting mapi a thank you, not hearing her return until she cleared her throat.

"good?" alexia asked, your hand covering your mouth as she stood dressed in one set of the matching pyjamas you'd gotten the pair of you, a santa hat sitting lopsided on her head. "very good." you beamed, alexias heart melting at the way your eyes lit up, silently promising herself she would never let them dim.

once you'd hurried off to change into your own set the two of you had cuddled up together on the lounge, your back settled against alexia's front as you flicked through trying to find the movie, her hands massaging your shoulders as she laid soft kisses to your neck.

"this one." you beamed, clicking play and laying back down into her more, her arms snaking around your torso and settling on your stomach as your own fingers interlocked with yours.

"how the grinch stole christmas?"

#woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #woso community #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

[angelltheninth]

Mahito Being a Slutty Boyfriend

Pairing: Mahito x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, lots of cum, creampie, handjob, cum eating, casual nudity, marks, free-use

A/N: Fully think he'd be one of the nastiest characters in JJK when it came to sex.

Mahito is a slutty boyfriend who is ready to fuck anytime and anywhere. There is no too early or too late, no wrong place, morning, night, crack of dawn, his room, your room, the beach, behind a building where he just killed someone. You'll always get his dick hard, all you need to do is tell him you want to fuck.

Mahito is a slutty boyfriend who doesn't wear clothes when he's staying over at your place. Ready to go at any time, clothes just slow him down you see. Besides it's best if he doesn't any more suspicious stains on them or else he will most likely get scolded by his team.

Mahito is a slutty boyfriend who fucks you like it's a competition. You're not fucking anyone else, he knows that but it's actually you he is going against. For every orgasm you give him he will give you another one and then one more. Eventually you could be on the recieving end of four or more orgasms in a row, so much you black out on him.

Mahito is a slutty boyfriend who jerks off above you so he can use his tongue to push his cum from your cheek into your mouth. No other reason for this. He enjoys how the salty taste of his cum mixes with your sweat and your lipstick. Besides when you open your mouth like that you're practically asking for him to do it.

Mahito is a slutty boyfriend who eats his cum from your pussy. After giving you a creampie he doesn't let you rest, claming his cum tasted best when he laps it from your freshly fucked, hot pussyhole. Can get fully lost in the mixed flavor of the two of you, cumdrunk and getting hard just so he can eat his cum from your pussy again.

Mahito is a slutty boyfriend who with jerk off and send you videos of it. He'll be loud too so you better not open those in public unless you want everyone to know what kind of filty boyfriend he is. That wouldn't be that bad actually, however you might get some unwanted competition in that case.

Mahito is a slutty boyfriend who is free use for you. Always in the mood, you don't even have to ask anymore. Cute that you do but his cock is there at your disposal, his balls full of cum that he's just aching to empty into all three of your holes in whichever order you want him too. When he's really horny for you and might ask you to be free use for him too.

Mahito is a slutty boyfriend who has no control over how rough he gets when he is fully in the zone. He worked you up to being able to handle him when he gets like that. You are more than his cocktoy, you matter more than that and as long as he feels this way he will make sure not to break you.

Mahito is a slutty boyfriend who tells a story behind each mark you left on his body. In extreme detail. To his teamates. Then he tells you how they squirmed and told him to shut the fuck up about his sex life. He feels like they're jealous of him for banging you. Which makes the way he brags even more fun and asks for you to leave marks in hard to hide places.

Mahito is a slutty boyfriend who will be loud as hell when someone passes by his room while the two of you are fucking. Shoving a pillow in his face won't work, it'll just make his cock harder, make his hips jerk unevenly, his moans turn into screams so that everyone can hear not just his voice but his balls slapping against your skin.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #mahito x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk imagines #mahito imagine #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk headcanons #mahito headcanons #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #mahito smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #mahito x you #jujutsu kaisen x female reader #jjk x female reader #mahito x female reader #jujutsi kaisen thirst #jjk thirsts #mahito thirsts #x female reader

[ameliathornromance]

"(Y/N)!" Your Orc partner roared.

Where had you gone? It was a routine raid, you should have stayed back and help everyone move supplies.

The fire that had been set to burn out most of the humans (your idea) licked the sky, buildings collapsed with a plume of ash.

It had all gone wrong. The whole point of the fire was to get human beings running and out of the way so that the Caravan could run in, take what they needed and leave.

But that wasn't what happened. The humans had fought back. They had started to drag up water from the well, and tossed it over the fires. The Orcs had no choice but to retreat.

But the humans drew their swords. And the Orcs had no choice but to defend themselves.

Bloodshed had ensued and the fire had gotten out of hand. Once your Orc had retreated to go and get you out of the fray, you were gone. You should have been hiding by the treeline, away from the madness.

"(Y/N)!" Your boyfriend shouted again. He ran past bodies, bodies of his own and humans too. The blood that had spilled made it difficult to maintain your boyfriend's balance. He slipped, and caught himself way too many times.

But he reached the centre of the town, he saw you. You clutched a bucket of water to your chest, soot smeared across your face while another Orc barked at you.

"(Y/N)!" Your Orc Boyfriend bellowed.

You jumped, but the other Orc snatched your bucket before you dropped it. He ran off as your Orc Boyfriend approached you.

"I-I..." you began but you couldn't finish.

"What are you doing?! You need to get out of here, now!" He snapped.

"But the Orcs, they're injured-"

"Don't worry about them, get to the wagon at the other side of town, my others will keep you safe." When you didn't move, your Orc barked, "now, (Y/N)!"

You gritted your teeth. You knew this was no time to argue, but you didn't want to just leave him here. But as a collection of angry human roars echoed from the other side of the village, you flinched.

"Go, now!" Your Orc turned away from you and to the human mob getting closer and closer.

"I'm not-"

"I'll be fine! Now go!" Your Orc Boyfriend shoved you away from him. Once you had the momentum, you took off into a sprint. You knew he was right, there was no way that you could defend yourself from that many people.

A few other Orcs ran past you to join the fight. You still didn't turn back. You knew if you turned back now, you wouldn't be able to keep running away.

The wagon, holding a couple of barrels came into view. The only Orc standing, beckoned to you, "come on!" He bellowed.

Your lungs burned, your legs ached, your arms were sore from helping the survivors. As soon as you reached the wagon, the Orc grabbed you and sat you amongst the barrels, providing you good cover. Should the humans decide to use bow and arrows.

You dared to look back. Where was your partner? Where'd he-

An answer appeared before you could even finish your thought. Your amazing boyfriend, barrelled out from a cloud of smoke, brandishing his axe. Humans nearby flinched, screamed, some even roared and swung back in defence.

The wagon had started to move, drawn by the Orc who had put you on the back of it.

A few humans sprinted to keep up your boyfriend, waving torches and pitchforks. But they only fell further and further behind as your Orc raced to catch up with the wagon.

You leaned forwards, holding your hand out to him, "hurry!"

With one final leap, he grasped onto your arm and crashed onto the wagon.

The wagon creaked under his massive weight. But it did not break. The supplies that the Orcs had stolen rustled as your boyfriend adjusted himself.

He lay on his back, panting, huffing.

"Damn human bastards." He breathed. "The others were good diversions. They said they'd catch up-"

You flung yourself on top of him and squeezed him tightly. Your heart thundered hard in your chest, adrenaline still rushing through your system.

Your Orc said nothing, instead, just placing his large hands on your back and holding you there.

It was a close call. Too close. For either of you.

"Promise me you'll never do that again?" You looked up at him. "Please?"

Your Orc Boyfriend looked at you and huffed, "Only if you promise to never go into another raid like that again."

Nodding, you settled your head on his chest again. His heart had slowed to a dull thumping.

As the voices of the angry humans died out, you felt yourself relax. You were both safe. And that's all that mattered.

#monster x female #monster x you #orc boyfriend #monster romance #orc x reader #monster x human #orc romance #monster lover #orc fiction #monster x reader #orc x female!reader #orc x human #monster bf #monster boyfriend

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Reign down on me - Part 3

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, abandonment

-🐺-

When the three of you left Price’s office, you were still marvelling at your collar. Your hands couldn’t leave the leather alone, stroking it and rubbing your fingers over the ridges of the ‘141’ stamp that graced the side of your neck. It had you smiling even despite the nagging feeling that everything was going to go away; that there was a rug just ready and waiting to be pulled just when you were going to get excited about your future with the team.

You were still holding your new handler tag between your fingers when you finally laid eyes on your Sergeants. They were hanging off the sofa in the break room, shouting and laughing as they furiously tapped at the remotes in their hands and shoved at each other like wild animals. You widened your eyes at the display, watching curiously as the man on the screen in front of them warned that they were running out of time. 

“Oi, you two! Pack it in, lads!” 

The men immediately put the controllers down and stopped the loud music from blaring out of the TV. They bashfully faced your small group, looking from where Price had shouted and inevitably to you. 

Gaz seemed to recognise you right away, his face lit up when he caught your eyes, but Soap didn’t give much away. His lips stayed firmly shut into a cheeky smile and his eyes roamed all about you, eventually catching on the shiny new collar around your neck. Gaz saw it too. 

“Good to see you again,” Gaz smiled, nodding his head in greeting. “Reppin’ the team as well - nice.”

You froze for a second, not really used to having someone remember you nevermind say it was good to see you again. Though you soon let your hands drop to your sides and nodded, offering a weak smile. 

“Thanks, Sergeant Garrick,” you replied, erring on the side of over-politeness. 

“Pft, don’t sergeant Garrick me again, you’re on the team now, it’s Gaz or Kyle, ok?”

Your ears raised in surprise. If you’d tried to call Sergeant Maddox by his nickname you’d have had your back flayed. Though when you thought back to it, Gaz had made a face everytime you addressed him before - he’d even tried to correct you and insist on Gaz a couple times. You’d decided in the past that it seemed like a ruse to make you step out of line, though now you realised he probably did just prefer his nickname.

“Alright, Gaz. Nice to meet you too…Sergeant MacTavish?” You said unsure, trying to gauge if ‘Soap’ would prefer his title or his nickname. 

“Soap’ll do fine for me, furball.” He snorted, face cracking into a big grin.

Furball would not do for you. You felt your ears drop and had to will yourself with everything you had not to let loose a growl. It mustn’t have been enough to completely hide your displeasure. Ghost put his hand on your shoulder, forcing a flinch out of you yet again, and squeezed. Whether it was meant to be threatening or reassuring, you weren’t sure, but either way you untensed your body and sighed out the rest of your annoyance. 

“Behave, Soap,” Ghost tutted.

“What? I’m just being my charmin’ self.”

“Be someone else for five minutes,” Ghost snarked.

“That desperate to hear my impression of you again, LT?”

“Maybe later, Soap,” Price said briskly. “There’s work to be done. Now that everyone’s on site, we can head over to the training I've set up for the day and we can get stuck in. You boys ready to head out?”

Soap and Gaz nodded, picking up their jackets from where they’d been strewn across the couch and got ready to move. You geared up to follow them, but Ghost put his arm out like security barrier, sending you into a surprised stop as you walked into him with an ‘oof’. 

“We’re gonna pick up your new boots first, Pup,” Ghost explained, his eyes twinkling when you tilted your head up at him. “We’ll catch up with em’ in a minute.”

“Pup?” Gaz repeated.

He’d stopped in his tracks as he heard that. From your periphery you could see his eyebrows raise. 

You felt your cheeks heat up like tiny furnaces and continued to avoid his eyes, simmering in your own embarrassment. It hadn’t occurred to you that Price hadn’t picked up on it, but now that Garrick had, you felt the full flush of embarrassment hit you in a fiery torrent. Just great, the new team are gonna pick up on Ghost’s babying and have a field day with it, you thought dourly. 

“Yes?” you said cautiously, waiting for the jeering snipes to begin. 

“Do you want us to call you that now?” 

Fuck off.

Get Fucked.

Why don’t I call you that? 

Those are the responses that your invaluable years of being taunted within an inch of your sanity suppress. Instead you shrugged lamely, forcing your body to relax and your fangs to unsnarl.  

“Call me whatever you want,” you grunted, leaving out the silent ‘most people do’.

You braved a glance over at him and watched as his eyebrows twitched upward. There was a distinct lack of mocking grin and on top of that, he didn’t hit out with a rebuttal. He just tilted his head at you and averted his eyes, silently going off in the same direction that Soap and Price had and letting the door whoosh shut behind him. 

“Gaz was just bein’ polite, Pup,” Ghost sighed, squeezing your shoulder once again. 

“What?”

“He wasn’t trying to make fun of you. He was just figuring out how to address you.”

You looked back up at Ghost and frowned, feeling your brows sink heavily over your eyes. Was he in your head or something? You folded your arms over each other and huffed out a breath, already irritated that Ghost had been the cause of the situation in the first place with all his coddling and cooing. 

“Never said he was,” you answered defensively. 

“Your attitude gave you away, darlin’.”

You knew then that under his mask, Ghost’s eyebrows would be drawn upward, enhancing his knowing stare underneath that dark mask of his. It sent your heart hammering and your fizzling mood freezing out with a small dying gasp. You wondered what your punishment for said ‘attitude’ would be. 

“Sorry, Sir,” you murmured, feeling your slanted tail awkwardly tuck in between your legs. “Won’t happen again, sorry for speaking to you out of turn.”

Suddenly the collar round your neck felt tighter and the cool tags burned your goosebumping skin. The weight of it felt impossible now that it was tying you to Ghost, now that you knew that you were supposed to be performing to a standard that fit a man like him. You were supposed to compliment him, not embarrass him with your silly antics.

“Hey, you’re fine, alright? I’m not angry with you. I only mention it because I don’t want you to think he’s like those men that were on your old base,” he said gently. 

You curled your hands into fists by your sides, willing them to stop shaking now that Ghost was watching you closely. His eyes followed the movement and you gulped, not quite sure how to respond. You’d have had your ass kicked for speaking like that to anyone on your old base, nevermind whoever your current handler was at the time. Now Ghost was telling you he wasn’t mad and looking at you with those big stupid eyes of his.

“Honestly, you’re not in trouble,” he sighed, reaching out and stroking a hand over your head. “If it helps, I can stop calling you pup if you don’t like it?”

“No, that’s alright,” you said a little too quickly. 

“You sure?” 

You nodded, not wanting to embarrass yourself any further by squeaking out anything else. Or perhaps even admitting that you liked it - that it made you feel safe, like his. It felt like Ghost cared for you on a level no one ever had before, following his kind words with kind actions. 

How could you willingly let go of that? 

-🐺-

Your parents had already taught you that being cared about was not a luxury that most hybrids were afforded. You remembered what it was like being dropped off at Branhaven that first day, that memory haunted you in almost every nightmare you ever had. You’d been so sure that they meant what they said when they wanted the best for you. It only stung all the more years later knowing that everything they said was just a lie designed to cut you off like a limb gone badly necrotic.

They’d taken you out on a car ride, just you by yourself, and you’d been so excited to begin with. Your little tail wagged so hard even despite being pressed harshly into the stiff leather seats. They never usually took you anywhere alone, it seemed like such a special day at first - Your brother and sister always got fun trips and you always got dropped off at your grandmas and plopped in front of the TV for the day. Now your parents had done the opposite.

It was finally your turn to have a day with them. Or so you’d naively thought. Too young at the tender age of ten to figure out that something out of the ordinary was never a good sign.

They’d been so smiley though, giving each other happy looks as they drove far far away from your little home town, humming along to the radio even. It would never have crossed your mind that that day was going to mark the change of everything. They’d even stopped at McDonalds and bought you a happy meal and let you choose a milkshake to wash it down with. That never happened, you’d only ever gotten to jealously watch on as your brother and sister got nice things like that. It was too good a score to stop and think anything bad about.

But then reality hit after a few more hours on the road. They stopped the car outside of what you thought was a toll booth which presided over a big ugly grey building in the shape of one of your brother’s play block towers. That’s when it occurred to you that maybe you weren’t going somewhere fun, maybe you were facing something of the opposite nature. It didn’t help that the man at the ‘toll booth’ said that your parents were expected, that they were pleasantly on time for their appointment. 

“Um…why did we stop here?” you’d asked, your voice squeaking out so timidly as you tried not to upset them. 

They never liked it when you talked too much or asked too many questions. Behaviour like that was often met with sighing and temple rubbing and ‘would you just be quiet?’. Though you couldn’t contain yourself then as you looked at the facility in front of you, frowning as you caught sight of a crying kid being dragged through the big metal gates, throwing themselves against the fence in hopes to try and cling onto something and not be lead into the building within. 

Was it a doctors office maybe? Some kind of specialist you had to see now that you were a growing hybrid on the edge of…what was the word again? Puberty? 

“Well kiddo, we’ve had a tough decision to make,” Your dad had said, placing his big hands over your mum’s. 

You tilted your head when you noticed that she was avoiding looking at you. Suddenly they weren’t smiling anymore either. The car felt very stuffy all of a sudden, the smell of the fat and salt from the Mcdonalds was clogging thickly in the air. 

“What tough decision?” you asked, feeling your ears slowly pin against your head. 

“Well…as you know you were a- a shock to your mother and I. We never thought in a million years we’d have a hybrid child, never knew the- the DNA was in us,” your dad had said, saying that dreaded DNA word in the same annoyed hiss he always did. “And we’ve never been prepared for the reality of it, the challenges that come with having a kid that’s…different. As you get older, that’s only gonna get more challenging for us. You’re going to become aggressive, and you’re going to have mood swings and you’re going to be difficult to control - it's just the way of hybrid kids.”

“You’re going to be a danger to your brother and sister,” your mum said, still refusing to look over at you, instead keeping her sights pinned on the entrance to the building. “To us.”

“Yes, and then what can happen is that you start wandering off, going out and getting into all sorts of trouble like those awful stories you hear on the news. You could get involved with gangs, you could hurt other people and go feral, you could do all sorts of damage and then the police would be forced to hurt you, maybe even kill you if you became a real danger. And you don’t want any of that do you?”

You frowned. Of course not! You shuddered to think that you would ever hurt someone, you’d always been the exact opposite of everything they'd just described. You were a pushover. You were kind to a fault, always trying to get on people’s good side on the off chance that you might receive a shred of their kindness. You’d never dream of being aggressive or of hurting any of your family.

“No, I don’t want that!” you agreed, searching your dad’s eyes and looking for him to acknowledge your plea. 

You wanted him to know that you weren’t like that. You hoped he knew that you’d never ever want to hurt him in a million years, he was your dad, you loved him endlessly. Even when he barely showed you an ounce of his own love in the meagre years you’d been alive, you would do anything to show him that you weren’t like those other hybrids. You were theirs, you had their DNA, even if yours had wolf in it, you didn’t think that mattered. 

“We know you don’t want that,” your dad said sympathetically, his voice dramatically pitching as he showed his ‘understanding’. “That’s why we’ve made the decision to sign you up for a program that the government recently started. It’s designed to help good hybrids like you, ones that want to grow up to be good people, to become productive members of society.”

You always laughed bitterly thinking back to that now. Member of society - hah! You were made little more than a slave, kept locked away behind fences or escorted around by groups of strange men with guns, and yet that program was supposedly to turn you into some paragon of virtue for all hybrids to aspire to. 

“I want to be good,” you affirmed, smiling as your dad smiled back at you. 

And you did. All you ever wanted was to be good.

“I know. And we think you’re gonna be so happy here, and you’re gonna do so well with the program! So we’re gonna go in and finish signing you up and you’re going to answer all of their questions honestly and politely, ok kiddo?”

“Oh…ok!” you’d said, not wanting to immediately bother him with your annoying questions. “But um- sorry - can I ask? What is the pro- program?”

Your dad’s mouth pressed into a thin line and you baulked, gulping as you realised you’d annoyed him after he’d just been so happy with you a second ago. Stupid dog! You were immediately frustrated at yourself, getting him worked up just when he was so proud a second ago. 

Though you were pleased to see he would answer you regardless, he was just so kind as to explain things.

“It’s with the military, we were told by the helpline that this was the best place for you to go. Since you’re a wolf hybrid, you’ll be happiest here - you can get all your energy out properly and be part of a big ‘pack’ when you get assigned to a unit. They said it’ll be just like school, like a special school just for hybrids! They’ll train you up first and then you’ll begin getting sent out to places around the world where people need help, until eventually you get your very own personal handler who looks after only you and takes you with them everywhere,” your dad explained, his voice slightly strained as he tried to position the job as nicely as he could. 

You frowned. You ignored his ‘don’t question me anymore’ eyes. Questions bursting from your mouth before your head could quash them down. 

“A handler that looks after me? But you and mum look after me,” you laughed, “Why would I need someone else to do that?”

“Because you’re too old for us to look after anymore, we have to let a professional take over now,” your mum said, finally turning around to look at you, waving off the hard look your dad shot her. “You have to stay here, where its safe for us and you. They’ll know how to handle you properly here. Hey now! No, don’t make a fuss. What do we keep telling you? You’re not a baby, you don’t need to bother with crocodile tears!”

You couldn’t help but get panicked then. Halfway through her speaking you realised that they actually intended to drop you off here and give you away. How could they just do that? You had to be mixed up, you reasoned, you had to be thinking stupidly as usual and you were getting it all wrong. 

“B-bu-but I…do I- I’ll get to come home and visit right?” you spluttered, trying desperately to withhold the tears that were streaming down your cheeks, rubbing furiously at the evidence that you were in fact the baby she was describing. “You- you said it’s like school! I’ll get to come home on the weekend then, won’t I? I’ll get day’s off on Saturday and - and Sunday and I’ll get to c-come home, right?”

Your mum was about to speak again, but your dad forcefully dug his hands into hers, grabbing with enough force to shake her, practically baring his teeth at the barest hint of her mouth opening. She shut it promptly again and he breathed out a loud sigh, one that still reached your ears over the frantic rushing of your own blood stream.

“Oh kiddo, you’re getting yourself all upset just before you have to meet the nice people! C’mon now, stop the silly tears. We’re gonna get you inside and you can ask all the questions you need to. In fact I think they’ll be very excited to get to talk to you. Now dry your eyes and come with me, that’s it, just breathe and calm down. No need to be a silly baby, because you’re not a silly baby are you? That’s right, you’re a big strong wolf. Come on then!”

Your mum stayed in the car, offering you a small smile as you went. Though as you think back to it now, you realise it was probably a smile of relief. One reserved only for herself.

Your dad’s parting words were little better than your mum’s smile. He’d said he’d speak to you again soon. That was just before he’d sent you packing into the strange office after signing in at the front desk, escorted away by a big bald man in a crisp green uniform, barely able to turn your body enough in his iron grip so that you could get one last look at your dad. He did a great job of feigning concern as he smiled encouragingly through the doorway. It was enough to help you calm yourself a little, thinking that at least you’d probably see him again on the weekend since he told you he’d see you soon. 

From then on however, you weren’t able to ask any questions, it hadn’t gone at all like your dad had said it would. You still weren’t able to confirm if you were getting time off to go see your family again, still weren’t getting to learn what it was you would be doing. You were cut off at every turn. 

Your hands were smacked with a ruler when you didn’t give the lady the answers she wanted because you were too busy trying to determine what the hell this program really was. You’d jumped the first time she did it, wailing from the shock of it at first before the burning sting set in. She’d just tisked at you and repeated her last question in a shout, asking you about any possible allergies or health problems. 

Little were you to know, you’d face much worse in the years to come.

You tried to do everything that was asked of you just to avoid that horrible ruler for the rest of the day. However it wasn’t enough to make them happy, nothing was. They didn’t smile at you or speak to you encouragingly, their monotonous voices were like sandpaper on your ears. They shuffled you along from room to room, processing your forms and getting you set up with a bunk - in a room full of similarly sniffling hybrid children - before whisking you away to a building outside that looked much like a garage. 

They’d thrown some items of clothing at you from off the racks and told you to get changed behind the makeshift curtain they’d set up, ordering you to hand over your old clothes afterwards. The room smelt like stale laundry detergent and bleach. The air stung at your eyes while you changed, biting at your overstimulated senses. 

You’d felt all the more inconsolable as you gave away your favourite tshirt, mourning the loss of the happy little cartoon dog as you had to trade him for a plain green button down. You struggled to put it on with your shaking fingers, huffed when you had a hard time squeezing your tail through the toughly stitched hole in the rough trousers. Military issue wasn’t built for comfort, that was one of your first hard learned lessons. 

“The fit’s alright,” the bald man had confirmed when you were out, staring at you with a bored look of a man that was going to be doing the same assessment with tons of other hybrids for days to come. “Look after those clothes, you won’t get another set until you progress to the next stage.”

-🐺-

“Pup?”

You snapped out of your thoughts and lasered in on Ghost, suddenly realising how badly you’d zoned out. How long had you been ignoring him for? Fuck!

“Yes,Sir? Sorry, Sir,” you said quickly, trying to rectify your mistake. “I…”

He’d asked you something…

“I asked you if the boots fit alright?” Ghost chuckled, ruffling a hand over your head.

You sighed and looked down at the shiny new shoes, still blown away by how easily Ghost had acquired not only those but also a full new set of hybrid uniforms and underwear. The quarter master hadn’t even blinked at his request, he’d just gotten Ghost to sign a few forms and just like that you had a brand new wardrobe full of new and perfectly pressed clothes. 

Normally you were only allowed to replace one new piece at a time, and usually you’d be met with annoyance and huffing at every request. The old quartermaster would drone on about money and what a waste it was to give you something new. This one just smiled as he handed you a bag with all of your fresh new things, telling Ghost to let him know if you needed any new patches for your shirts while you did all you could not to gape at him. 

“The boots are good, thank you. They just need broken in,” you shrugged, already feeling them rubbing a little uncomfortably across your left ankle. 

“Mhmm, just let me know if they dig too much. I can tell Price if you need a break today. Remember what he told you earlier, we want you to communicate with us, alright?”

“Alright,” you answered, still feeling like you’d landed in some kind of alternate reality overnight. 

“That’s my good pup.”

He squeezed your shoulder and led you off to the training area then, his back turned as you stared up at him with big eyes. My good pup. Your spine had tingled so warmly after hearing that, you’d even felt your traitorous tail wag a little before you gripped it tightly in your hand and stopped it. 

The whole way to the training area you repeated his words in your head, almost drunkenly swooning over the rumble of his accent. It kept you following slowly behind him, trying to ensure he didn’t see the ridiculous little smile that had refused to leave your face after his praise. Not that it was just the praise itself, of course, no he’d called you his specifically. 

It was only when you were met with Price again that you were able to think straight. Your posture went rigid when you met his eyes and noted that he looked serious now. The job was officially starting. 

You’d been led into a cavernous building with big bright lights glaring over your head. It’s floors were filled with tall panels of wood that stretched high above you and even over Ghost's towering frame, filling the room with a cheap sawdusty smell. From inside you knew there were men waiting inside the labyrinth that surely lay within, you could hear their heartbeats echoing in the expansive space, you could smell their sweat as they adjusted to the warmth of the blaring overhead lights. 

Everything was set up for a simulated mission. You’d done similar drills many times before, your heart was already beating fast with anticipation, base instincts beginning to bubble to the surface. You were ready to run, ready to hunt. 

However the nature of your quarry was still to be revealed. That kept your head just human enough to listen to what Price had to say. It never did to misunderstand the mission and run straight into failure, and at that point you wanted to do everything you could to try and dodge any punishments. 

“So we’ve got a simple set up for today, this is mainly to get you properly acquainted with the team and get you familiarised with us,” Price said carefully, keeping strict eye contact with you to make sure you understood him. 

If you were to hover outside your own body you knew your pupils had probably already dilated. Your chest was probably already noticeably heaving as the wolf inside you seized control over your mind. He’d know you were almost gone, and would need carefully given instruction.You flicked your ears for him, letting him see that you were  listening intently to what your new Captain was saying.

Little did he know there was a new part of you now primed and ready to receive his praises, endorphins were ready to fire as you got ready to impress him. You felt like you had a real chance to shine now, to do well for someone other than yourself.  

“Basically we’re going to run you through some tracking drills. We’ve got some bits of clothing prepared for you to scent and you’re gonna run through the maze taking down hostiles and securing your ‘hostages’. This is gonna help you remember our scents so that you can find us in the field in future, and it’s gonna give us a taste of what you can do when you’re up against an enemy. You’re gonna start off with Ghost keeping you in a collar hold to start, you’re gonna alert him when you find an enemy or sense a hostage, but we’ll let you do some solo runs as well. Sound good?”

“Yes sir,” you answered in a growl, the wolf inside straining to go. 

“Alright. Ghost, help Pup stick their gear on, I’m gonna go up to the stands and get ready to watch.” 

With that Price moved up to the metal steps to your left, ascending to the high walkway above so that he could watch over the maze and track your movements. With each thud he made, your heart beat with it. You tried not to wriggle too much while Ghost got you ready, but you did receive a small ‘hey!’ and a tug on your collar when you tried to look past Ghost and toward the course. After giving you a second to calm down, he stuck you in a vest and hooked your comms up to his and Price’s, ensuring he secured a looped earpiece round your ear to hear them with as well.  

From then on it was like torture waiting for Ghost to get himself ready, it felt like time was moving at half speed, your tail swished impatiently as he got himself into safety gear and took his sweet time grabbing one of the training guns from the racks. You shivered with anticipation, heavily scenting the air already while you stepped from foot to foot. Your body was burning with energy, your legs ready to pounce. 

“Alright I’m gonna get the lights in a second, we’re gonna simulate a city street at night, so you’re going to have low visibility,” Price explained, voice sparking to life through the comms in your ear. “If you walk round to the entrance you’ll see Gaz and Soap’s jackets. You’re gonna get a good whiff of em’ and use that to track em down, Pup. You ready?”

“Ready, Captain,” you answered, already straining in Ghost’s hold. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” ghost rumbled.

He’d gripped your collar after he finished sorting his gear and now you were primed to go, struggling to try and pull him forward as you sensed the job was starting. ‘Work mode’ had shuttered off any other thoughts. All that kept you in your spot was the incredibly tight grip that Ghost had on you - that and all the training you’d had not to abandon the handler that was collar holding you. You might’ve tried to squirm free otherwise. 

“That’s one strong wolf,” Price chuckled, disappearing as he shut off the lights with a loud click. “Hold on tight, Ghost.”

Your instincts flared ever more wildly in the darkness. The flickering lamplights above were just bright enough to lead you around to the starting gate of the course and to the discarded jackets strewn on the floor. 

Ghost took one of them in his free hand and held it up to your face, letting you drink in the scent of it while he kept a firm grip of your collar. Almost immediately you were getting warm notes of aftershave and undertones of rich home cooking. Gaz, you guessed in the back of your mind, vaguely recognising the scent from back in the break room. Ghost lifted the next one for you, repeating the procedure again. Annoyingly that’s when you realised that Soap was an expert in demolitions. You knew that now from the hints of explosive materials that you could sniff out. 

You whuffed out an agitated breath and stopped Ghost from taking the jacket away, holding it longer so that you could try to find something to pinpoint Soap properly by. Sniffing out explosives and associating that with a friendly would be a very very bad idea, even with your clouded brain you knew that, so you wanted to establish his scent by something better. You inhaled again and gulped the scent in, holding onto the gentle hints of sage and cigarettes that emanated from below the plastics and frowning when you swore you could detect a familiar hint of spicy citrus peels…

You dropped the confusion as soon as it came, satisfied that you could accurately identify both Soap and Gaz. There was no point wondering why that secondary scent was on there, and now you were far too eager to get started. You rushed forward and had Ghost quietly swearing again as you set off through the wooden course, soon greeted with more accurate building facades as you stepped out onto an almost abandoned city street. 

You huffed in deep lungfuls of air, twitching your ears all the while as you listened out for hostiles and tried to scent out your targets. There were so many intermingling scents, so many distractions to sift through. Only a few steps forward you detected something in an alleyway to your left and turned to Ghost, flicking your head in the direction of the possible enemy ahead. 

Ghost nodded and flicked two of his fingers to his side, signalling for you to heel while he raised his gun. Luckily your training allowed you to tamp down the instinct to run off and chase the enemy like a snarling beast, otherwise you’d have run off to do just that.

Instead you quietly followed along with your handler while he picked off the hostile with a suppressed shot. Your ears twitched nonetheless when it came, feeling like a fly had buzzed right into it with the noise that it made. The training guns were always too high pitched, never able to quite simulate the real sound of a shot. 

“Good,” ghost whispered, just barely enough so that you could hear. 

Your tail swished and you smiled to yourself as Ghost took a hold of your collar again, allowing you to lead him further through the street, brimming with pride after being complimented. It took a little time to work your way through the course, keeping yourselves pressed tightly into the shadows. The two of you crouched and ducked through the alleyways, picking soldiers with weapons off one by one and leaving the fake civilians to wander.

When you finally came to a building that emanated with the smell of amber tinged aftershave, you stopped suddenly and perked your ears, alerting that you’d found your target. Ghost made his way to one of the windows and peeked inside, whispering to you that there seemed to be two men, and one was holding a gun to Gaz’s head. He released your collar and swirled his index finger by the door, signalling for you to wait by it and get your orders 

“I’m gonna take the man with the Gun out from here. You try to go inside and take the one by the doorway. You can surprise him if you act fast,” Ghost whispered. “On my signal.”

You nodded and primed yourself at the door, ready to fling it open and throw yourself inside. You watched Ghost intently from your periphery, doing everything not to snarl with all the adrenaline that coursed through you. The warm buzz of a mission going well never failed to make you happy, always showing you that you were capable and strong. Something to be feared when out on the field. 

Ghost grunted at you to go and just as his shot rang out, you ripped through the doorway and set yourself on the man inside. He screamed loudly as you took him down, a sound like a strangled cat leaving his throat as you swiped at the target pad that had been put there. It always terrified people when you did that, making them realise just how much of a threat you were when you easily ripped the foam and simulated a perfect kill. 

In real life that kill would’ve been near silent once their vocal chords had been torn, but the man before you was shrieking as you loomed over him. It was enough to bring his friend rushing out from the shadows, emerging from a room just behind Gaz in a blaze of shock from all the noise.

Just as the man’s trudging steps hit the floor, you leapt from your old target and toward the new one, snarling and growling up a storm. You were ensuring you drew the fire to you and not your hostage, just as you’d been trained to do. Though before he could get a shot off, you were on him, slamming his gun hand to the ceiling above and overwhelming him with a few snaps toward his precious face. 

That was usually enough to have people panicking and forgetting all of their training. In this case it was as well. The man screamed and tried to use the butt of his gun to hit you, but you directed his hand away easily and barked loudly in his face. When you bit at the foam by his throat, he screamed all the harder, sending you into a revelry as you savaged the fake target with glee. 

By this point your mouth would be dripping with blood, and your teeth practically burned with the lack of wetness there. Your mouth watered at his pathetic cries, jaw working as you willed yourself not to clamp down on him and bite. It took everything in you to remember this man wasn’t actually your enemy, and you’d already ‘killed’ him. You didn’t need to do anything else. 

“Oi, shut it!” Ghost shouted, pulling you promptly off of the terrified man while glowering down at him. “You know better. Dead men don’t whine and piss their pants.”

“Sir, I-“

Ghost shot him a warning look, forcing the man to bite his lip and let himself fall back, closing his eyes as if he’d just drawn his last breath. You snickered to yourself and hummed with pleasure as Ghost raked his hands through your hair, roughly petting you with his thick skeleton gloves. 

“Good Pup. Price was right, you’re fast!”  he praised, working his hand over your vest and giving you a few encouraging pats. 

You rumbled out a happy little chirp, already non-verbal as the adrenaline fully set in now. You were deep into the mindset of the wolf, trusting your instincts and training to keep you right. Shut up, focus, signal, bite the foam; your deep rooted commands played like an old mantra.

“We both told you,” Gaz said, “that one’s a beaut in the field.” 

You looked over to him then, some of your humanity returning as you realised how embarrassing it was to be petted and cooed over in front of your Sergeant. Though Gaz’s compliment didn’t escape you and, dumb animal that you were, you chirped at that too. He smiled at the sound and shook his head, looking over to Ghost and away from your horrified widening eyes. 

“So mister saviour,” Gaz said, fluttering his eyelashes and clasping his hands by his face. “Are you gonna get me out of here?” 

Ghost snorted and pulled you close to him, firmly keeping you fixed to his front. 

“You wait here while we get Soap. We’ll get you both out at the same time.”

“This Soap guy sounds like an idiot. You should just leave him and take me away,” Gaz grinned, his character voice cracking as he laughed. 

“Don’t get too jealous, Garrick. I’ll be back for you soon enough,” Ghost rumbled. “I can take you then.” 

You blinked as you watched Ghost wink and felt your cheeks flush. The men had an easy friendship; not the kind you’d seen between the guys at Branhaven that were quick to shout ‘gay!’ If they had to shake another man’s hand. They certainly wouldn’t have pretended to flirt while on a training simulation with the Captain watching. 

Speaking of- 

“Get on with it,” Price drawled, making you jump as you remembered he was on the comms. 

With that, Ghost allowed you to lead the way to Soap while Gaz picked a spot to hide. You made your way easily through the streets, jointly taking down more of the men while they ran around in a frenzy.

After hearing all the gunshots they were like noisy wasps buzzing around, guns pointing out in front of them like angry stingers. They were sloppy though, and loud, easy targets for you both to tear through until you found Soap’s trail and sniffed him out to a fake multi story flat. 

You ascended the stairways and took all the men that stood in your way, checking each door and systematically destroying all your opposition until you found the door that Soap was behind. 

Sure enough you could sense his racing heart and smell that familiar warp of plastic and Sage and cigarettes. There were other smells there too though. More hostiles. You turned to Ghost and held up 3 fingers, letting him know about the others in the room. He nodded his head and quietly got to work bringing out a camera, allowing you both to see the position of your targets. 

Just like Gaz, there was a man holding a gun to Soap’s neck. One other man was pacing the room and the other was facing the doorway, ready to shoot. Ghost sighed out an annoyed breath and retrieved the camera, looking up to the ceiling as he thought about how to go ahead. 

“I’ll take out the one facing the doorway first. You take down the one with his gun to Soap and I’ll get the restless one after that.”

“But then Soap’ll get shot,” you murmured, not sure if this was one of the times you should be verbalising.

“We’ll both get shot if I leave someone facing us. Risking the hostage is a move we have to make, not like they’ll be any better off with us dead and one left with a gun in their hands.”

“You can shoot from the side and let me run at the one facing the door. He won’t swivel in time to get Soap.”

That was the kind of plan you were used to. Usually the human soldiers and the hostages took priority, while your life hung in the balance. It was mostly only saved by your incredible speed, sometimes your vest, as you weaved your way forward, bounding toward the enemy with unpredictable animal movements. 

“We go with my plan,” Ghost said firmly. “Take down the one by Soap on my signal.”

There was no room to disagree. You readied yourself and waited as Ghost kept his hands primed on the door. You breathed out and listened to him countdown, bolting through the doorway like a bullet when you saw it open wide enough. 

You beelined for the man over Soap and threw yourself at him, sending him flying backwards as you ripped into the foam. The man struggled at first, but settled on the ground once he saw the foam torn apart in your teeth and stared up wide eyed and silently.

Your heartbeat thrummed in your ears and you turned then, hurling yourself over to Soap and curling round him with a growl. Your hair stood up on your neck as you looked out for anyone that might crawl out the woodwork to attack him, ready to face a similar scenario just as you’d had with Gaz. Your limbs shivered with anticipation, ready to strike. You snarled out a bark, body expelling every bit of nervous energy it could. 

“Woah there wolfie,” Soap laughed, wrapping one of his big arms around your shoulders, curling his hand round your collar in a restraining grab. “You’re good, you got em all. You’ll terrify the shit out of a real hostage makin’ all tha noise.”

You huffed indignantly and settled back, letting your growls die out in your throat as you realised he was right. Ghost shot down the wanderer when you’d taken a protective stance of Soap, and now you were in a silent room with only fake dead men as your teammates stared intently at you. 

“Good job though, you really got that guy,” Soap affirmed, petting your head even more enthusiastically than Ghost, sending you grumbling and pinning your ears back as you felt your hair fill with static.

Soap jumped a little as he heard you, reeling back his arm and regarding you with a careful look. You fell silent as you saw him, frowning at his sudden show of fear. He was holding his hand to his chin, pulling it away quickly once he caught you staring.

In the darkness you swore you could make out a scar there. The light bounced off of the ridges and sparkled in his glassy eyes. 

“Jesus! Remind me not to cross this one,” Soap said breathily, shooting a nervous smile at Ghost. 

“Pup’ll remind you just fine,” ghost snorted, “got a good growl on ya, isn’t that right?” 

You shrugged and avoided his eyes, realising that you had been pretty noisy. Though you couldn’t help it when it came to all out confrontation. It made men quake in fear, made them sloppy. It was one of your best weapons, limited as you were to using your teeth and claws and, ever so occasionally, knives. 

“Come on then, you two. Best get moving.” 

You awkwardly stood away from Soap, trying not to scare him anymore than you already clearly had. Normally you wouldn’t worry about that sort of thing, but Soap hadn’t actually been mean to you yet and you didn’t want to provoke him into behaving that way. You'd already learned from your past mistakes. 

Once you’d all left the building, you regrouped with Gaz with little effort and Price had turned up the lights and rejoined you all. He praised you for your skills while reprimanding the others for messing about too much and then said the simulation would reset and everyone would switch a few more times. 

The day went on with you ‘rescuing’ the whole team at least once, allowing you to become acquainted with Price’s earthy tobacco and dove soap smell when it was his turn to play hostage. It didn’t take long until you didn’t need to smell their clothing before being sent out into the course. Ghost had had a turn, switching out with Price, and you found him easiest out of everybody, primed to seek out his citrusy orange peel scent like it was a second air source. You hadn’t needed the old balaclava that Price offered, shaking your head as you pulled him toward the entrance. 

Price had grunted and swore something awful while he took control of you, sending Ghost laughing over the comms. Ghost was nice enough to stay hooked up so that he could advise Price when needed. He told him to put a little pressure on the scruff of your neck if you pulled too much. He’d needed to do that a couple times as you raced ahead, trying valiantly to get to your proper handler while the Captain fought against your fast pace. You were so wrapped up in the situation, too far gone worrying about Ghost’s pretend capture, to even be scared when Price threatened to get a hobble for your legs if you didn’t behave.

It was a heavy day, by far one of the most intense training sessions you’d had in a while, but one filled with high praise that kept you raring to go. After having enough simulations that you lost count, all the running around and growling had burned your throat ragged and you were truly finished.

Ghost caught you almost doubling over with the effort it took to stay standing after the last bout and stuck his arm round you. He held you firmly to his hard vest as he petted your head and encouraged you to take a few breaths. 

“That’s it, take it easy, good pup. You’ve done so well today, you’ve impressed me,” he whispered, leaning down just so that you could hear him. “C’mon let’s get you outta that gear. Time for a break, hm?”

You nodded tiredly and looked up as the others glanced over at you both curiously. You didn’t have enough energy to be embarrassed while they watched Ghost help take your gear off. You just clung to him and groaned when the weight of your vest was removed and you were left in your uniform again. You couldn’t help shivering now that the cold air had started to seep in through the metal walls of the warehouse building. 

“Cold, Pup?” Price asked, voice gruff from all his shouting at the soldiers.

A lot of men had had to be reprimanded for screaming and struggling against you; all being told that if they acted like squeaky toys they were going to get bitten like squeaky toys. It certainly felt true as you struggled against yourself with each hour that ticked by, finding it harder and harder to resist the urge to attack. You wanted to do a good job, wanted to end the enemy and protect your pack. It took everything to remind the wolf in you that they weren’t the real enemy and your ‘pack’ were perfectly safe. 

You looked up to Price, suddenly very aware that you saw him differently now. You saw each of the 141 differently as you cast your eyes over them - saw them not as your deceptive antagonists, but something new…something you hadn’t encountered before. 

“It’s freezing in here,” you huffed, answering Price’s question honestly, without fear that he’d reprimand you for it. 

“Here, take this.”

Gaz stepped forward and pulled his hoodie out of his jacket, separating the sleeves before handing it to you. His scent drifted up from the fibres, piercing the cold air with its warmth. You took it gratefully, but tilted your head up at him, confused as to why he’d give it to you.

“But won’t you be cold?” You asked with a frown. 

“Nah, I’ve still got my jacket,” he said, wrapping his jacket around his back for emphasis, “take it, it’s fine.”

You bit your lips, mind racing as you lifted it up and wrapped it round yourself, noting how oversized it was as it crept down your legs. The soft grey material hugged the cold from your bones and you smiled, savouring the warmth that it offered. 

“Thanks Gaz,” you said, almost groaning as you felt your tail wag wildly from behind you. 

Something told you that you were going to be doing that a lot more often now… 

#simon ghost riley #Simon Riley #Ghost #mw2 #ghost x reader #Hybrid!reader #reign down on me

[miupow]

⭑𓂃 GETTING STONED W/ TXT .ᐟ ୭ ˚. [ HEADCANONS]

☆〜（ゝ。∂）txt x gn!reader ⋆ cw// drugs/marijuana mentions! sfw, tooth rotting fluff <𝟑 kissing, cuddling, implied established relationships

⤷ what i imagine it's like smoking with the boys . . .

연준 YEONJUN

i imagine him high is a lot like him drunk lol

soft, sleepy, cuddly and just the biggest baby whining that he wants kisses now

likes using your lap as a pillow for his head, the type to nuzzle his face in your belly and wrap his arms tight around you-- won't you play with his hair? tell him what an amazingwonderfulhandsome boyfriend he is?

tries very hard not to fall asleep on you but fails every time

pls take care of him :(

finds the other boys annoying when they're high lol but still does it with them because they're his baby brothers and he loves them no matter how much they piss him off <33

cannot smoke without you because he'd spend the entire sesh going "where's my baby?? i wanna see my baby, i miss them so much :(("

수빈 SOOBIN ⭑𓂃

the kind to just stare blankly at the wall for hours

"bin, you okay?" "uh huh..."

probably gets sensory overload easily, don’t have too much going on at once or he’ll get a headache :<

soogyu is my dream blunt rotation im gonna be honest they're so fucking funny they just be sayin shit

high bin says the some of funniest things you've ever heard in your life but he has no idea he's even being funny

"why are you laughing at me??? :(("

gasps when you tell him you love him even though you tell him every day

“REALLY??? I LOVE YOU TOO!!!”

will get into the dumbest arguments, especially with gyu?? “what do you think would happen if you put a werewolf on the moon…” “what the hell is wrong with you??”

“no, dumbass, that’s not even how ufos work. look it up.”

범규 BEOMGYU ⭑𓂃

true delulu headcanon time here but hear me out okay

he's so crazy adhd brain high energy when he's sober but i feel like when he's stoned he's so. chill?

put a movie on or something and he'll be quiet for hours he's just so transfixed by the moving colors and lights

just wants to cuddle with you in silence or like. talk about deep shit

you honestly kind of love it because you'll have conversations about your future and your relationship that gyu wouldn't take seriously sober

he's very upfront and straightforward with his feelings when he's stoned, which is so unlike him

says some corny shit with stars in his eyes like "i wanna spend forever with you" and then regrets it later because he sounded like a dweeb

he's so whipped for you and he can't hide it :<

let him lay on your chest, playing with his long pretty hair, calling him beomie while he looks up at you with hazy, unfocused but so in love eyes

again soogyu = dream blunt rotation gyu is so funny

“do crabs think fish are flying??” type mf i love him very much

태현 TAEHYUN ⭑𓂃

this might be an unpopular opinion but tyun is absolutely the biggest stoner out of the five of them

i feel like he would smoke to relax, not necessarily to get high-- he's on stress overdrive 24/7, especially during comeback season,, he smokes to finally make his brain go quiet for at least a night

big social smoker but also enjoys smoking alone or just with you

i see him the most like his sober self, quiet and content and not really paying much attention to anything

normally you have to fight him to get his picture taken but when he's stoned he'll just let you shove a camera in his face and you love it sm,, "tyunnie!! baby! smile!"

very content with letting you sit on his lap while he zones out, nuzzling his neck-- he loves feeling needed, loves taking care of you

thinks everyone else is very entertaining, just enjoys watching his brothers act like idiots

he's such a bottled up guy, doesn't like to show or talk about how he's feeling ;; but he'll open up easily once you get him loosened up

휴닝카이 HUENING KAI ⭑𓂃

i want to smoke with this boy so bad. it's not even funny.

he's so cuddly and sweet and giggly,,, i lob him,,

he gets too out of it to kiss you so he makes your plushies kiss eachother instead hehe

kiss his freckles :< just give him so many smooches all over his face while he laughs that it tickles

spooning is a need not a want. he'd rest his chin on the top of your head and hold you soso close while you lay on his bed watching a movie ;;

like soobin he probably gets overstimulated easily,, he needs the lights off and he likes when you wear soft/fuzzy clothes,, ur his plushie now :<

will not let you get up for anything at all. will literally follow you to the bathroom and wait outside of the door like a puppy

SOOO much skinship he needs to touch and be touched so badly

goes totally nonverbal when he's stoned. will not say a word for hours

TUMMY RUBS also lays his head on your belly ;;

thinks literally everything is funny. show him a picture of like. a horse and he'd laugh at it

#ɱเµρσω𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ౨ৎ #tw.drugs #txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #soobin x reader #taehyun x reader #hueningkai x reader #beomgyu x reader #txt soft thoughts #txt soft hours #txt fluff #yeonjun fluff #soobin fluff #beomgyu fluff #taehyun fluff #hueningkai fluff #txt imagines #txt scenarios #yeonjun soft hours #yeonjun soft thoughts #soobin soft thoughts #soobin soft hours #beomgyu soft thoughts #beomgyu soft hours #taehyun soft hours #taehyun soft thoughts #hueningkai soft hours #hueningkai soft thoughts

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

It's Not A Phase

Summary: You've been dating Wanda for a while now, long enough that she wants to introduce you to the Avengers. Common room photos, however, reveal a side to her that you'd never seen before... a certain emo side.

Word Count: 1288

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: mentions of killing people, but generally just fluff!

A/N: you can blame @family-house-of-m for this one

»»————-　★　————-««

Very few things in this world feel as untouchable, unobtainable, and awe-inspiring as this; the architecture of the tower is symbolic, in a way, touching the sky like a beacon of hope.

But from where you stand in the street, dwarfed by its massive, looming shadow, you've never felt so insignificant. You shove your hands deep into your pockets, huddling in on yourself despite the warm summer air, as you wait for your girlfriend to appear.

When she does, she arrives like the blossoming buds in the park, a ray of colour and joy emerging from steely grey. Just like on a walk among the flowers, you feel yourself relax upon seeing her.

You smile and open your arms for an embrace that she willingly falls into, then she giggles into your neck.

"You look beautiful, sweetheart," you murmur when she pulls back, though your arms still drape over her shoulders. It's the truth too, with her long hair flowing free and swaying slightly in the light breeze, down to her coral and white sundress trailing her every turn. She's beautiful, and you want her to know it.

She takes your praise with a blush, pushing herself closer to your chest until your sporadic heart rate catches her attention.

"Are you nervous?"

"They're intimidating," you defend.

"They're harmless when you know them. But I'd fight any one of them if they made you uncomfortable," she promises, "and I'd win."

You know she's telling the truth, as – you assume – her team knows too. While your girlfriend may be the embodiment of summer and light, you know what she's capable of against those who hurt her loved ones.

"Getting through today without a fight is a goal I didn't expect to need."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she apologises, though you're quick to reassure her it's not a true concern. "They're going to love you, I think. Really, I'm the one who should be getting nervous."

"I don't plan to ditch you for your family; what else is there to be concerned about?"

"Oh great, another worry I didn't expect to need," she grumbles, a smile teasing her lips at the callback to your previous words. You scoff and playfully push at her shoulder with a shake of your head. She grins and pulls herself back into your arms. "It's…something else, but you'll see it when we're up there."

"Is my sweet superhero girlfriend hiding a deep secret?" you say with a fake gasp, playing into the act until she grabs your hand and pulls you into the building. "Something scandalous?" you tease again while you stand shoulder-to-shoulder in the elevator. You know without looking that she rolls her eyes, but you still don't get an answer out of her.

She interlocks her fingers with yours again just before the elevator pings, signalling your arrival at the destination. She takes a deep breath and you fear she's settled your own nerves at the expense of her own; you squeeze her hand and let her lead you forward into the common room.

"She's back everyone!" The yell takes you by surprise and before you know it you've jumped away from the voice and into your girlfriend, who shoots a glare at the laughing redhead.

"Natasha, this is Y/N. Y/N, Natasha."

"Um, nice to meet you," you greet, moving forward to shake her hand despite the flush of embarrassment lingering on your face.

Natasha clasps your hand, returning the greeting with a polite "pleasure to meet you too". Even if her smirk never fades and she tracks her eyes first over you, then over your girlfriend.

You cast a nervous glance behind you, before stepping back to your girlfriend's side; she smiles encouragingly at you, which fades when her gaze falls back to Natasha.

"Where are the others?"

"On their way, I'd assume. Did you not hear me shout for them?"

"We heard," the girl beside you huffs, drawing another smirk out of the older woman.

Natasha turns to you again, "they really are all excited to meet you, Y/N. Wanda's told us so much about you."

Before you can ask about what she's said, the room suddenly crowds with an influx of Avengers, all talking over each other to introduce themself to you first. Red wisps wrap around you and pull you free from the crowd to stand slightly behind her, the witch putting herself between you and the team until they prove they can act reasonably.

They don't take the hint and Natasha notices the growing stress of both you and your girlfriend, so she drops the teasing act in order to command the crowd into a line. You're surprised by the rapid change in pace from her drawing enjoyment from your fear and embarrassment to defending you against the rabid Avengers hoard. Wanda doesn't seem quite so shocked, as if she knew Natasha's allegiance all along – of course, that is very possible, considering they're teammates while you'd only met the redhead five minutes before.

Thanks to the assassin's work, however, you're soon able to greet each Avenger one by one, all with an opinion on your relationship with Wanda ranging from: "She's been so much happier since knowing you," to "Why on earth would you date my sister?"

The latter came, of course, from Pietro, Wanda's older twin brother. He took his self-assigned role as Wanda's protector very seriously: testing your grip on the handshake, glaring from across the room, and criticising his sister in the expectation that you'd say wonderful things about her to prove him wrong. You expect the "I'll hurt you if you hurt my sister," talk to come any day now, especially if you end up hanging out in the Avengers tower more frequently.

Regardless, he seems to approve for now, nodding his head and letting you walk farther into the common space, where you notice a very interesting picture up on the wall. You step closer almost without thinking, and certainly without comprehending your girlfriend's hesitant interruption behind you.

You turn back to her with a wide grin across your face and a sparkle in your eyes that she can't help but smile at, even if her eyes display a tense dread waiting for your reaction.

"Did my girlfriend…" you begin, edging back towards her, "my sweet, summer girlfriend… have an emo phase?" You're standing right in front of her now, foreheads practically touching as you interlace her fingers in yours, grinning knowingly.

"It's not a phase," Pietro teases, though his mouth is promptly shut in a red mist.

"Yeah, she's still emo-" Tony continues in his place. He is silenced too, but your eyes widen and Wanda realises that it's too late.

"Not so summery after all, huh?" you whisper for only her to hear.

"Not with them."

"I love getting to see that side of you." You punctuate it with a kiss, before speaking up for the whole team to hear you again. "Was that the big secret?" She nods. "Oh, my love, you didn't have to worry about that, I'll stand by you through any style you choose. I thought it was going to be that you'd killed someone or something!"

"...I mean, I have done that," she says bluntly. You look up at the team to see if she's joking, but they're all in various stages of thought themselves: slight grimaces, scratching heads, slow nods, and all avoiding eye contact.

"You all have, haven't you?" you ask.

"Missions aren't without their casualties," comes Natasha's reply; her voice is flat, but you can see the strained nonchalance with which she shrugs and you pull Wanda closer.

"I'll love you no matter what, even through your big, dark, emo secret."

»»————-　★　————-««

taglist: @canvascoloredin (I couldn't tell if you wanted to be tagged in everything or just Jeff, so it it's just for Jeff fics please let me know :) )

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #marvel #ikan writes

[a-simple-imagine]

Bigender asian with pronoun fuckery

synopsis: you're a rising star at godu. just cracked the top ten but a budding relationship with jordan li may bring everything crumbling down

pairing: jordan li x fem!reader

words: 5.2k+

a/n - not sure how i feel about this but i am putting it out there. if this gets enough attention, I can work on another part that goes a little deeper?? I use all pronouns for Jordan but mainly they/them

WARNINGS - swearing and drug use

a groggy groan slips past your lips as you bury your face further into the gentle embrace of the pillow. it is early. too early. you have no clue what time it actually is but whatever the case may be, you weren't ready for the day to start just yet. it takes a moment to realise you're alone in this bed. you hadn't been when you fell asleep. it doesn't bother you too much though. they're probably just getting ready. that is until you hear a curse word muttered quietly; perhaps an attempt to not disturb you or maybe they just wanted to hide their frustration. "what are you doing?" your words half muttered into the pillow.

"rankings are out." that was it? rankings? you sometimes forget how competitive they can be. it's not like you're not interested. you've wanted that top spot since freshman year. alas, golden boy holds that spot and you'd never be a pretty blonde white boy if you tried. this semester you've been working extra hard. Everyone knows you're in the best chance of scoring a city contract if you can break the top ten but the seven? they want the best of the best. sure it's not impossible to be lower and also become part of the team, the deep managed it, but that was an anomaly. most supes just end up as walking advertisements for vought. and as much as you may enjoy the occasional acting class. you weren't here to end up on some CW show or a Netflix special. you were gonna make it into the seven. you were gonna prove to everyone that you are one of the best.

"who cares," you mumble, rolling onto your back and spreading your arms out wide.

"oh, so you don't care that you're now second."

"come back to bed." you urge. a silence seals the room until your brain catches up to what it just heard. did they say second? as in second place? as in one spot away from first? you didn't mishear that. sitting up, you eventually spy a feminine presenting Jordan sitting at her desk, illuminated by the blue glow of their tablet. their short bob falls to one side. a perfect backdrop for such a pretty face "Are you fucking with me?" they don't bother responding just shove the tablet out in your direction. grabbing it you see your school ID photo with a massive '#2' next to it. you blink a few times. scroll down a little. refresh the page. but again it's still there. it was real. "fuck"

"My thoughts exactly," Jordan reacts. you glimpse at them wondering what that comment means. it could merely be a jest or a reflection of their current mood. you take a moment to look at the rest of the list in search of their name. they were no longer top three. you found them sitting nicely at number five. double fuck. you had taken their spot. they're still top ten which most would be happy with but not Jordan. tossing the tablet aside, you drop back against the bed. letting your eyes fall closed. "we have class in like an hour."

"I don't need to go to class. I'm number two now," you press.

"not how that works," A dramatic groan falls past your lips, pulling the covers up over your head. bed sounded better than a morning lecture. you wish they would just join you or leave you be. "get out of my bed." Jordan huffs after a moment. "we're gonna be late." you don't move. you frankly don't care. "if you don't hurry up, no breakfast."

"fucks sake." you whine, emerging from beneath the darkness of the duvet. "fine. I'll let you buy me Jitterbean."

"thought so," they offer you a tight smile. you could never say no to a free treat before class. "chop-chop."

Drink in one hand, pastry in the other, you're feeling brighter as you stroll into class. Jordan trails behind you. they'd been usually quiet on the walk over. you put it down to all the attention you were attracting today. couldn't even walk across campus without people asking for pictures or saying hi. you weren't sure you liked it just yet but for right now it was fine. when you spot cate you offer a scrunched up smile which she quickly returns. you and cate had been friends since day one. something just clicked. "there she is," cate starts as you approach your usual spot in class. "the girl of the hour. you're literally all anyone can talk about."

"aren't i always," you tease.

"we're going out tonight"

"are you asking-" you begin as Dean Shetty strides into the room. guess brink was out today. "or telling me?"

"telling," cate's smile quirks up before she turns to focus on the class. guess that was the end of that conversation.

you linger by your desk as everyone else filters out of the room after class. Dean Shetty requested a word. you can't imagine what it's about. surely she isn't that bothered by your attempts at chatting through her lecture. you offer up an awkward little smile as you push off the desk you were leaning against; slowly making you way across the room. "so what have I done wrong?"

"you mean other than talking through the entire class," you internally cringe a little. maybe she was bothered by all the whispering. she watches you for a moment before continuing. "it is nothing like that. don't worry."

"then why am I here?"

"I just thought we should have a little chat." your brow furrows. what did you and the dean of an entire university have to discuss? was this about your ranking? was she about to tell you there had been a mistake? "I believe congratulations are in order- such an extensive jump in ranking, you must be proud."

this felt like a conversation that could have been an email. "sure. thanks." you shrug. you're not really sure what to say. of course, you're proud. you were the second highest ranked student in a school of exceptional kids. "is that all?"

"no," her head shakes a little. I wanted to make sure you understand the gravity of the position you're in." when you don't respond she decides to just continue. "being a superhero is about more than just your abilities. it's also about how you present yourself. people care about you. they wanna know what you're doing. who you're hanging out with. One minute you're taking a picture with a nice girl you met at a party the next you're fighting nazi allegations for hanging out with a white supremacist. do you get what I'm saying?"

you shrug. "don't hang out with nazis, got it."

"I'm saying you need to look at yourself more like a brand. Be careful about what you say and who you spend your time with. you're the sum of the people around you."

"I know. I took branding." everyone knew how this worked. being a good person only took you so far and if homelander was anything to go off, that doesn't even matter that much. it's all about how you market yourself. it's about how many followers you have. how much attention you can get. inevitably, how much money can you make for Vought? Dean Shetty smiles but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"you do want to be number one, correct?" you nod a little. "I want to help you get to the top but only if you wanna help yourself."

"what about Luke?"

"he is far from my concern right now." what did that even mean? "so?"

you hesitate. you did want this but you weren't entirely sure what you were agreeing to here. If Dean Shetty can help you secure first place though, maybe it was worth the risk. she was an expert here. should you even bother questioning why the sudden interest in you? "I want this."

"Good," her smile seemed more genuine now. "I know you can go far, just keep in mind what I said."

"I will," you start edging towards the stuff you left on your desk. "thanks."

"also try listening during lectures. I'm sure you and Miss Dunlap can talk some other time."

"Sorry." with that you practically run out of the classroom before she can continue talking.

it's a particularly chilly night smushed in the back seat of an old car. bright lights zoom past the window and music blasts through the speakers. you're not really paying attention to the noise around you. it's a mess of meaningless conversation. Dean Shetty's words play over in your head. She certainly would not approve of this little venture out into the night past curfew; what she didn't know couldn't hurt her. Jordan eventually pulls your attention; in his hand, he holds two small red pills. you don't really question it before popping one into your mouth. a second for later. tonight was gonna be fun or if nothing else you can abuse enough substances to pretend. the secret location is just a massive warehouse. on the outside, you'd think it any old thing. inside you find massive tanks of rainbow fish, long sweeping curtains, jester-themed masquerade masks and other eccentric decor. it is the most random selection and yet it works so well. creates the perfect balance of sexy and mysterious but inviting. you find yourself in a booth with your friends all around. "so how's being number two going for ya?" Andre asks. "feeling the pressure yet?"

"I don't know," you shrug. "people are weird."

"what do you mean?" Luke questions.

"Dean Shetty said some things to me after class."

"-I come bearing gifts." Jordan appears, now in their feminine form with a couple of drinks followed by Marie. "courtesy of the young gentleman at the bar."

"What did Dean Shetty say?"

"it doesn't matter." you shrug it off. "two will never be one right."

"has it not hit yet?" Jordan wonders.

"i know what it's like to suddenly have all this pressure on you but try not to think about it much," Luke reassures you. "just keep doing what you're doing. you've got this."

"my guy. you're supposed to be happy here," Andre leans forward slapping his hand against your leg. "we're out here celebrating you, dude. cheer up."

"I'm plenty happy," you grumble sinking further into your seat. you appreciate their attempt to cheer you up but it's honestly not needed. you're happy to be in second place even with all the newly founded pressure; just a little confused about what was expected of you. "ecstatic even. let's talk about something else."

your head feels fuzzy. nothing feels real anymore. but it's good. great even. you feel so fucking good. like you've rid yourself of every lingering thought that wrapped itself around your body. you're light. you're free. the shimmering blue of the giant fish tanks is so mesmerising; you almost want to climb in but instead, you watch. colours morphing and shifting before your eyes. back and forth. back and forth. you jump a little as something touches your shoulder. "here you are." their words seem distant; muffled even. "you good?" you nod a little continuing to stare at the fish. two hands slip around your waist and connect in front. you feel their body press into yours from behind. you know it's Jordan. you know they're masc. You know them well. their smokey cologne. the way their body feels around you. the subtle differences between both forms. taller. bigger. firm. you let out a content hum. it's a rarity for such open affection. "what are you doing?" whispered in your ear.

"Just watching the fish,"

"why?"

"do you ever wonder what it would be like to be a fish?" you wonder softly. "to just swim around all day without a care in the world… no complex family systems. no pressure to be the best. just… swimming and pretty colours." their chuckle is temperate. affectionate. it almost seems like they somehow get closer.

"you're fucked, huh?"

"I'm good. I'm great," you respond. they just chuckle again, planting a soft kiss on your shoulder. your relationship with Jordan was hardly one of romance. you have slept together. a few times actually. and some kind of feelings are there; at least for you there are but you're not dating. you're just… having fun. maybe you want more. who knows? you don't. would they even want more? probably not. you'd like it. maybe. doesn't matter. they make you feel warm. safe even. and that's all that really matters.

"shall we get you a drink?" you nod a little. "yeah?"

"yeah," you repeat nodding more eagerly. a dopey smile settling on your lips as you let your head fall back; nuzzling against him. "something fruity, please."

"let's get you something fruity," arms vacate your waist replaced with a hand in yours.

"bye fishies," you throw a wave back. "say bye Jordan."

"Absolutely not." they interlock your fingers before leading the way back into the turbulent crowd of the club.

"you're no fun." you groan playfully. weaving through the mass of people back towards the bar, you come across cate. as you approach, Jordan let's go.

"you found her then," shouted over the heavy bass and mess of voices.

"she was alone staring at the fish tanks," they respond.

"the fish were really pretty," you contribute with a bright smile.

"you gotta stop running off, silly."

"but the fishies-"

"I know they're pretty but still," cate continues. "do you wanna come dance?"

"hmmm… yes." you respond brightly. "jordan's gonna get me a drink. jordan get cate one too."

"yeah Jordan, get cate one too." cate repeats playfully. her hand slides into yours and she pulls you towards the dance floor. it's a lot of blurred colours as you sway and move alongside the blonde. she wears a playful smile and smells so good. really sweet. like freshly baked cookies. "are you good?"

"mhmm,"

"you sure?" it's so loud out here. there are so many people around you. it's hard to pick up what is being said.

"I am so good, cate," you respond loudly. "I mean definitely fucked but yeah. are you good?"

"yeah," she nods. "I'm-" the rest of her sentence is impossible to comprehend.

"what?"

cate places her hands on your shoulders bringing you to a stop as she leans in extra close. "i said i'm proud of you."

"you're starting to sound like my mom," you joke. she playfully hits your arm. "but thank you."

"i think you could actually take luke's spot."

"i definitely can." you declare proudly. "dean shetty offered to help."

"really?" cate seems shocked by the idea. "why?"

you shrug. "i'm gonna be in the seven one day." you yell loudly. nobody cares. everyone is being loud. it'd drowned out by everything else. cate stares at you for a moment before letting her smile return.

"fuck yeah, you are," cate shouts. your smile brightens. fuck yeah, you are.

your head pounds with the weight of your bad decisions. maybe you went a little too hard. Nausea settles deep in the pit of your stomach. you think you're gonna throw up. you don't. you breathe deeply through it. a long groan forces its way past your lips as you roll onto your back; stretching out your limbs as far as they go to very little relief. A pain radiates from your left leg. god only knows why. you're just a little achy. how did you even get here? the last thing you remember is dancing with Cate; having fun.

"she's alive," the voice catches you off guard. it sounds like… wait. your eyes finally focus on the person in the room who definitely wasn't your roommate. that black hair. that pretty face. the effortless expression of too cool to be here. jordan li is still in the exact same outfit as last night. why were they here? "how's our newest celebrity?"

there were many ways you could answer but your brain could only come up with. "shitty."

"I bet," they approach the end of your bed, holding out a glass of water. "here."

you slowly push yourself up into a seated position. trying desperately to ignore the intense pressure building in your head. "why are you here?" you ask, accepting the glass and taking a long, big gulp.

"Jordan stayed all night," your roommate, Beth, interjects. By her tone, she was not happy with your newfound company. "would have been nice to know."

"I'm allowed to have people in our room, Beth." you hand the glass back to Jordan before falling back down against the bed. rubbing your eyes with your thumb and forefinger. "I wanna die."

"tell me next time." Beth continues to argue. "instead I wake up to a stranger in our room."

you groan loudly. this was too much talking for your poor delicate head to handle right now. "I'm right here, guys," Jordan insists. "I literally spoke to you last night."

"I'm making a point." your roommate argues. "I'd like a heads up."

"gooooood! okay- sorry," you groan. you really don't care this much

"Okay, well, I gotta go," Jordan hums. "wasn't supposed to stay this long just wanted to make sure you're cool."

"I'm fine. go," you wave a dismissive hand as your eyes flutter close. "thanks for getting me home."

"any time," their weight leaves the bed and you roll onto your side to face the wall. pulling the duvet closer around your body. "I'll text you- bye Beth."

"bye Jordan." you hear the door click and an uncomfortable silence fills the room. it's preferable to the loud conversation that just happened. it's a relief to your head. you just want to go back to sleep. "they must really like you."

urgh. you don't want to talk anymore. "yeah, jordans cool."

"no, I mean, they like you," Beth continues on. you bury yourself further into your cocoon of pillows and duvet. "stayed the whole night just to keep an eye on you. I said it was fine- you'd be fine but they insisted."

Jordan insisted? just how fucked up were you that Jordan li of all people would stay the night just to make sure you were okay? you guys were good friends but most of the time they were either bullying you or treating you like a child which is like a subset of bullying you. you remember them wrapping their arms around you as you watched the fish last night. you've seen Jordan's softer side obviously but yeah. "we're just friends, dude."

"All I know is that Jordan li, as far as I've seen and heard, would not do that for just anyone. they're into you."

"sure. fine. whatever." you growl. you just wanted this conversation to end. Jordan was cool but if you think about this for too long your head is gonna explode. right now, sleep was what you needed. "Jordan Li is in love with me. I'm going back to sleep." it's hard not to think about what Beth suggested. that Jordan was into you as more than just a friend and occasionally fuck buddy. is that something you should talk about? What if Beth was wrong and you bring it up and it makes things super weird? you can't handle that. you have like a million classes together, you would never be able to escape them.

it was a bright sunny day in the quad of Godolkin University. you sit in the courtyard. a laptop, criminology textbooks and a water bottle spread across the table. you have an essay due in a few days. you had sat down to work on this essay multiple times with a beautiful blank document and many hours on TikTok to show for it. "hey," your TikTok time is interrupted by none other than Jordan Li. you had not seen them since that night or morning. you hadn't really spoken either. you weren't avoiding them by any means. you were just busy and they hadn't seemed too eager to talk so. "hey," they say after a moment. "how's the essay going?"

"so great," you flash a smile. "I've written so much."

"that good, huh," they joke awkwardly taking a sip of their coffee. you just hum in response. you need to get this done. no time to add Jordan to the list of distractions. after a few moments of silence, they speak up again. "I was hoping we could talk

"Can this wait? I really need to get this done."

"I guess…" Jordan trailed off. you look at him for a moment. he seems disheartened by your request.

"what's up?"

"it… doesn't matter. don't worry." a small smile settles on their lips. "I should go."

"you sure?"

Jordan pushes up from their seat. "I'll see you later."

that was weird. definitely something you need to come back to later when you're not working on a deadline. for now, you had an essay to, at the very least, start.

"Have you spoken to Jordan recently?" you ask Cate as you slide into a booth at the on-campus Vought - a - burger. the smell of deep-fried food hangs heavy in the air and you know damn well this table is probably gonna be sticky as hell. "I feel like they're ignoring me."

"What makes you think that?"

"the fact that they're quite literally ignoring me. I've text them a couple times and nothing. even in class, they can hardly look at me." you reach into the bag to pull out the food; placing it on napkins in front of you. cate hands you your drink in exchange for her order. "I feel bad. they tried to talk to me the other day but I wanted to get my essay done."

"they've seemed fine to me but I've been working on a project for my hero management class." Cate shrugs. "is this about what happened the other night?"

"what happened the other night?" you questioned, popping a fry into your mouth. it actually tasted fresh and salty; guess you came at the correct time. you hate it when they're all soggy.

"I don't know if it's my place to say- you were pretty high."

"did I do something… bad?" you didn't remember that night but you never imagined you would ever do something inappropriate.

"no. not bad." you can tell she regrets bringing this up; whatever this is. torn between wanting to help and not overstepping boundaries. She is about to continue when two girls approach the table. freshmen you presume. you've never seen them before.

"Can we get a selfie?" the taller of the two requests. you frown a little.

"we're actually trying to have a private con-"

"it'll just take a minute," they turn around and hold the camera out, snapping a picture before you have a chance to react. "thanks." they scurry off almost immediately. you'll probably find yourself tagged in a picture on Instagram later. it had been happening a lot recently; so much so that you had to turn notifications off.

"the fuck?" you share a confused look with Cate. "people are so rude."

"they're just excited. you're basically a celebrity to them," Cate chuckles.

"do you think Jordan hates me now?" you wonder bringing the conversation back to Li.

"it's probably just because of the rankings."

"you mean because I took their spot?"

"Jordan has always been pretty intense when it came to rankings. they've wanted that top spot for as long as I've known them." Cate explains, hiding her mouth as she shoves more food into her mouth. "must suck that you just jumped to two and have the dean in your corner no less." you never really considered how Jordan must be handling all this. you knew they'd be a little upset but this seemed extreme.

"I never really thought about that," you sigh softly. "should I apologise?"

"I don't know," Cate resumes, biting the head off some fries. "if you think it'd help."

"I don't know why they didn't just tell me that when we first found out," you frown a little. "they were a little distant but they seemed cool when we went out."

"maybe you should just try talking to them," Cate suggests, picking up her drink. She takes a swift sip before continuing. "if it's about rankings or the other night- I don't know. only Jordan does."

"what happened the other night?" you ask again.

"ask Jordan."

"I'm asking you, Cate."

"you were just a lot and said some things."

"Cate!" you huff, falling back. you know Cate well. you know when she's avoiding something. "I know you're being cryptic so I give up on it."

"it's just not my place. it's between you and Jordan. I don't wanna get in the middle." Cate presses sharply. "did you get your essay done?"

"no," you shake your head. "I ended up getting an extension- how am I supposed to speak to them when they're ignoring me?"

"i don't know- can we please talk about something else?" Cate pleads.

"Sure," you hum softly. taking another fry you dip it into some sauce. "let's talk about how I'm about to fail criminology."

you text Jordan that you're coming over. It wasn't a question but a statement. no option to refuse. you needed to sort this out and being direct was the best approach. did every inch of your body buzz with anxiety as you made your way towards their dorm room? yes. but it beat constantly thinking about every little interaction you had with Jordan in the past week trying to figure out exactly what you had done wrong. the only blank spot was that night and Cate had unintentionally convinced you that you had done something absolutely awful. maybe you told them you hate them or invalidated their identity in some way? fuck. you swallow hard staring at their closed door. you shake out the nerves before knocking. knock. knock. knock. and the door swings open to reveal Jordan. "hey," they hum before retreating into the safety of their dorm. shutting the door behind you, you step inside the all too familiar space; you had been here a great many times and yet today there was a weird vibe. it felt foreign. cold even. "so what did you wanna talk about?" for a split second you almost forgot why you were here. you turn to Jordan who is sitting on the couch, a laptop thrown off to the side now. your eyes fall to the homelander Vought-a-burger toy that has somehow become a staple of this room. leader of the seven. currently facing major allegations. "you good?"

"Are you mad at me?" you blurt out. "is it about the rankings? I know they mean a lot to you and I basically took your spot so I get it if you're mad. it's a little unfair because I've always wanted this too but like I get it." your rambling but you can't help yourself. you need to get this all out as quickly as possible before your brain catches on and you chicken out. "And I'm sorry about the other day, I just really needed to get my essay done. I ended up getting an extension because I was so stressed out about it, I just couldn't start." you can't bring yourself to look at them. "or if I did something shitty on that night out. I'm sorry. it was fucked-"

"whoa dude, chill out," Jordan ultimately interrupts. "you're talking a lot." you dare a glance at them. their face is pretty neutral so you have no clue what was going on in their head. "what are you even asking?"

"why are you avoiding me?" you ask. "I've clearly done something wrong."

a heavy sigh leaves their lips as they fall back against the plush fabric. "I'll admit I was a little annoyed with the rankings at first but I'm working on it. this is like a really big deal for you."

"so you're not mad at me?" you sound so pathetic. an even bigger sigh leaves their lips. you're not sure what that means but nobody sighs that heavily for good reason. they push to their feet, crossing the room towards you.

"I'm not mad at you," they say softly as they approach. for a second they hold your gaze as they linger close but then they flicker away. "I'm just… confused."

"About what?" they take a step closer. so close. too close. their hot breath pricks at your skin but you don't dare move away. you almost feel drawn to them.

"Is this okay?" they say quietly.

"Are you only doing this so we'll stop talking about it?" their head shakes just a little.

"no," their hand graces over your neck and up to the bottom of your jaw. Their thumb gently brushes your skin, sending a chill down your spine. there would always be something about Jordan Li that made you melt inside. when they're here and so close, you almost forget all your worries. the way they look at you. like you're the only person in the world. a feather-like embrace is enough to send you spinning. "I don't think I can just be your friend anymore," whispered against your lips. "I… like you too." they pull back.

"Jordan,"

"I need you to say it- I need you to say it sober so I don't feel like a fucking idiot," say it sober? when did you say it in the first place? maybe this was what Cate was talking about. the thing you couldn't remember. you admitted to having feelings for Jordan. fuck.

"I…" you trail off, the words are caught in your throat. this is gonna change everything?

"It's cool," they declare loudly, letting their hand fall as they away. "I get it."

"no Jordan-"

"no it's fine. you were fucked. it didn't mean anything- I shouldn't have said anything."

"Jordan," you say louder, reaching out for their hand. a deep regret fills your stomach. you liked Jordan. they meant a lot to you and you were throwing it all away because you were scared; terrified even. if this doesn't work out then you ruin everything. there's no coming back from this.

"don't," they yank their hand away. "please don't. I don't want your pity."

"It's not pity."

"I don't get you." they huff. "you're all over me and then you want nothing to do with me. you tell everyone you like me but then… nothing? it's… confusing-"

"Jordan just- stop please," you say loudly. "I… like you, okay?"

"don't say things you don't mean."

"I mean it," you say a tad more confidently. "I like you." you try to reach for them again. they let you take their hand. " i don't know what it means exactly but I do… like you… too." you squeeze their hand slightly. it's warm and fits so perfectly in yours. they turn back to you with a smile. a small genuine smile that fills you with butterflies. they really did mean so much to you.

"so… now what?" they ask.

"I don't know." you pursed your lips, shrugging your shoulders. "but I do have to go."

"Seriously?"

"I have a meeting with Dean Shetty." you express. "I'm sorry. She wants me at some dinner so."

#gen v #jordan li #jordan li x reader #jordan li x you #the boys #london thor #derek luh

[hotluncheddie]

Day 7: Daddy Steve

"Softly"

wc: 2.5k | rated: E | tags: Sub Eddie Munson, established relationship (they're in love), soft dom Steve Harrington, anal sex, crying, pet names, Eddie Munson needs a hug

written for @subeddieweek <3

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Some days are just too much. Everything crawling up too high and burying Eddie where he stands. Days where he just can't handle it anymore. Needs a break. Some care. A little softness.

It's been one of those days. 

The car Eddie’s working on just doesn’t want to run right and he heard a customer whispering to his boss, Jimmy, about his scars. Assuming it made Eddie someone untrustworthy; ‘you really want him in your shop Jim?’. 

Jimmy set them straight but it really set Eddie’s teeth on edge. They’re not in Hawkins anymore, but sometimes, it feels like he never got away. Still a suspect. Still a freak. 

Eddie slips into their apartment, shoving off his shoes and jacket. It's not so cold out anymore but he’s still got a henley on under his overalls, he pulls those half off and ties them at his waist. He keeps the henley firmly in place though. Pulling the sleeves further down over his hands. 

The scars over his forearms aren’t even that noticeable, some of his faintest. But that guy, at the shop, he noticed. He noticed and it made Eddie’s skin crawl. 

Steve is at the stove in their tiny kitchen, stirring something and humming to a song on the radio. 

Eddie stalks over, opening the fridge and pulling out a beer. ‘Good day?’ Steve asks from his spot, eyes already trained on Eddie, on the knit of his shoulders. 

Eddie grunts, taking a pull from the can. Not looking directly at Steve, at his soft eyes. 

Eddie doesn’t deserver them.  

‘Okay then, bad day.’ Steve jokes but it rips something up in Eddie. Pulls at his sinew, makes his scars itch. Everyone seems to know everything about him already, knows all his secrets, who he is. And maybe they do, his past is already laid out all over his skin anyway. 

‘Need to talk about it?’ Steve asks, but it sounds so patronising, so, so. 

‘God, just shut up Steve!’ Eddie scoffs, slamming his can down on the counter and turning away, arms crossed. 

He regrets it the moment it comes out of his mouth. 

Steve takes Eddie's outburst in stride, slowly taking him in his arms, wrapping around his back and hooking his chin over his shoulder. ‘Steve? Not heard that one in a long time.’ A soft kiss to Eddie's temple. ‘What happened to Stevie?’ Steve rubs his cheek up against Eddies. ‘Or sweetheart?’ Buries his face in Eddie's neck. ‘Or doll, hm?’

Eddie turns so they’re facing. Letting the weight of the day, the guilt over his outburst show on his face, in the slouch of his shoulders. 

‘That bad huh?’ Steve asks, running his eyes over Eddie's expression. 

Eddie sniffs. ‘M’sorry. Don’t, please don’t shut up.’ He pleads, wishing he could rewind time 30 minutes, rewind to this morning. Do it all over. 

Steve cups Eddie’s face in his hands, holding him up and looking right into him. ‘What do you need?’ Steve asks, forcing eye contact. 

Eddie blinks, breaths in through his nose but his exhale gets choked on a sob. Fuck, it’s been such a bad fucking day. ‘I need to not fucking think for a while, don’t, don’t wanna exist anymore Stevie. Just wanna be here, be yours.’ He pleads, eyes on Steve’s soft brown ones. He feels tears sliding down his cheeks and snot filing his nose. 

Steve hushes him, pulling Eddie into his neck and Eddie sobs. He cries ugly and loud and stains Steves shirt with his tears.But he can’t stop, felt too much today. Too bad.

He can’t do it tonight, exist. Wants to hide, needs it. 

Stroking his hand over Eddie’s hair Steve hold him close, swaying them gently on the kitchen tiles and Steve statrs to hum again. Eddie thinks it’s Fleetwood Mac but he can’t really hear over the sound of his own ragged breathing. He just knows Steve is there, that Steve’s got him. 

Eddie cries until he can’t anymore. 

Once his breathings back to normal Steve pulls his head back out. Lifting his own shirt up to wipe Eddie’s face clean. Eddie grimaces because, gross. But Steve just has this little smile on his face, private and grounding and Eddie goes still. Lets Steve do as he pleases and just focuses on breathing. 

Steve kisses his forehead once he’s done. ‘Go shower for me now Ed’s, yeah? It'll help you relax. I’ll make you some food.’ Eddie stiffens slightly at having to leave Steve’s arms. But, a shower does sound nice. Chance to scrub the grease and sweat from his hair and skin. 

Eddie nods and Steve kisses his cheek, murmurs ‘good’. Eddie bites his lips as he shuffles away. 

-

Eddie opens the shower curtain to see a small pile of clothes sitting in the toilet seat. A pair of loose shorts and one of Steve’s old crewnecks. Both Eddie’s favourites, they’re worn with age so they’re soft and usually reside in Steve’s side of the draws, making them smell a little more like him. 

Eddie feels his shoulders dip further, tension spilling away. Takes Steve’s quiet instruction, his love filled action, puts on the clothes and breathes deep.   

He smells Steve’s cooking, hears him singing softly through the walls, definitely Fleetwood Mac. 

After they eat, Steve insists on doing the dishes while Eddie drinks tea - watching Steve, waiting for him to be done - before they move to the couch. 

With the TV on low and main light off, Eddie finally feels his shoulders relax fully. Able to finally focus on just this.

Now, here, with Steve. 

Eddie straddles Steve's thighs, making himself as small as possible in his lap, hooking his feet behind Steve's calves. Tangling them till they’re one, connected. 

Eddies closes his eyes to focus on the feeling of Steve below him, the softness of his sweats against the backs of his legs, the rise and fall of his ribs. Pushing his forehead into Steve sternum Eddie shifts his fingers up under the hem of his t-shirt. Taking a deep breath as his fingers roam over Steve's soft healed sides, over his stomach and up to his pecs. Eddie cups them and squeezes, trying to fill all his senses with nothing but Steve. 

Steve's voice is honey warm as he speaks quietly into Eddie's hair. ‘You want Mommy tonight baby?’ And Eddie gasps, looks up at him with watery eyes, feeling caught. 

Until Steve is trailing soft fingertips over his face and jaw, over his fluttering eyelids and ears, over the scar that makes the side of his mouth droop. 

So faintly, Eddie worries Steve will miss it, he shake his head and keeps his eyes closed. Swallows around the lump in his throat. ‘Tell me what you need baby.’ Steve hums, still close, still touching. 

‘Daddy.’ He whispers, softly, into Steve's fingers at his lips, breathing it into his bones. A secret confession, a little bit of his insides spilt outwards.  

Steve ‘hmm’s’ in quiet understanding, kissing the corner of Eddie's scarred mouth, the tip of his nose, the furrow between his brows. ‘I’ve got you. Gonna take care of you, yeah?’ 

‘Need it. I’m sorry, just, I. I need it.’ Eddie's voice wavers, his eyes screw up tight. The relentlessness of the day, the week, claw at him again, fill up his lungs, fit to drown him. 

‘Hey, hey it’s okay. Whatever you want. You’re doing perfect. Answered my question so perfect Ed’s, okay?’ Steve smooths his hands over Eddie’s back, repetitive and grounding. ‘It’s just us, remember? Just us here. I’ve got you.’  

Eddie nods dumbly, feels tears prickle his eyes. He takes a shuddery breath and tries to focus on letting the day drift away from him again. The soft blanket of ‘Steve’ and ‘home’ and ‘safe’ taking its place.

They stay like that, Eddie clinging and Steve holding him through it. Letting him relax enough to fall, to dip. Softly Steve trails fingers through Eddie's scalp, scratching lightly, tucking his hair behind his ears. Starts tapping Eddie's lip with his thumb, toying with it, playing with the seam of them. Waiting. He’s always so patient with Eddie, when Eddie gets like this. 

Fisting the neckline of Steve’s sweatshirt Eddie inches impossible closer, sandwiching his forearms between their two chests. Nuzzling at Steve’s nose with his own. ‘Say it again’ Steve whispers into his mouth. In that way that's a little demanding but still playful, cocky, unbelievably Steve.  

Eddie leans away just slightly to see Steve’s eyes, hooded, with pupils blown impossibly wide. Eddie's insides churn.  

‘Daddy.’

Steve buries his hands in Eddie’s hair and brings their mouths together. Crashing into a kiss that's teeth and spit and soft need. Eddie keens at the sensation, how all consuming it is, when Steve kisses him. 

They kiss until there’s no breath left in Eddies lungs, until the spit on his chin threatens to slide down his neck, until he feels the tip of his cock sticking to the fabric of his shorts. 

Steve pulls him away gently by the hair, just enough for them to suck in greedy lungfuls, sharing the air between them. Eddie breaks. ‘You, you say it again.’ He demands, desperate. 

‘Say what, hm? Tell me what you want Eddie.’ Steve moves strands of hair away from Eddies face, bit by tiny bit, preening him, taking his time. 

‘Want you to say it again, call me it again.’ Eddie pants, unable to catch his breath. he needs it. 

Leaning in close Steve tucks some of Eddies hair back behind his ear, sweeps it over his shoulder. Ghosting his lips over the shell of his ear Eddie feels the smile pulling at Steves lips. Goosebumps break out over his thighs.

‘Baby.’ 

Eddie full body shivers. Feels his vision tunnel with the sweet floaty feeling that comes when he’s held like this, talked to like this. Allowed to be, like this, with Steve.  

Whining Eddie shoves lightly at Steve's chest to get their faces back together. Kissing and kissing and kissing, Eddie whines into Steve's mouth as he sucks on Eddie's tongue, swallowing each other's moans and Eddie can’t help canting his hips forwards, grinding in tight little circles on Steve's lap.

‘Does baby want anything special?’ Steve asks, tongue still dipping in and out of Eddie’s mouth.  

Eddie shakes his head, still close, needs to be close. ‘Just want you. Want Daddy.’ he sounds desperate, feels desperate. 

Steve kisses him again, slowing them. Pecks Eddies cheeks, his nose.

And it’s done sweetly. Steve always so sweet, and soft, with Eddie. Only getting mean if he asks for it, only going harder if Eddie begs. 

‘Bedroom.’ Steve says into Eddies cheek. Stealing another kiss but stopping the movement of Eddies hips with firm hands at his waist. 

-

‘Fuck, you look so pretty on my cock baby.’ Steve pants. ‘So beautiful Eddie, always.’ 

Eddie whines and squirms, arms above his head, turning his face to rub his cheek against the pillow. He bites the inside of his arm as Steve thrusts especially deep, groaning above him. 

‘Say it.’ Steve says. ‘Say it for me baby.’ 

‘Ah fuck, fuck. Love your cock Daddy, love having your cock inside me.’ Eddie says, the filthy plea zinging up his spine and making his cock twitch. 

Steve strokes him, lightly, way too lightly. Thumbing his wet tip. Collecting Eddie’s pre and presents his wet thumb for him. Eddie opens his mouth greedily, sucking the digit clean. 

‘Say the rest of it baby.’ Steve insists. ‘Daddy needs to hear you say it.’ 

Eddie furrows his brows, confused, mind too fuzzy. Then a deep blush spreads across his face, down his neck. 

‘Daddy.’ Eddie pleads. He doesn’t. He can’t. 

Steve slows his thrusts and Eddie thrashes, still feeling the drag so deep as Steve bottoms out each time, but he’s grinding so slow it sets Eddies skin on fire. 

Eddie crosses his arms over his eyes, pouting. ‘I’m ah I’m- I’m beautiful Daddy.’ His chest rising and falling, breathing shakily through his nose. 

‘That’s is. So good.’ Steve placates. Leaning over Eddie to talk in his ear, pushing him deeper into the mattress. ‘Again.’ 

‘I’m, I’m beautiful.’ Eddie feels tears threaten to spill over his lash line. Feels his heart beat in his ears. Feels Steve’s stubble against his cheek. 

Steve kisses over Eddie’s jaw and neck. Over his scarred skin. Following the lines of his healed sutures, raised and jagged. Steve mouths over them, following the trail back up to Eddies mouth. ‘So so beautiful baby. Such a good boy for Daddy.’ 

Eddie can’t contains the sob that escapes him. ‘Daddy please.’ He whimpers,

He doesn’t want to talk anymore. 

Steve wraps his arm around Eddie’s knee, pushing it into his chest. ‘I know, I know baby. Gonna give you what you need yeah? You’ve been so good, so perfect.’ 

With a final kiss to Eddie’s mouth Steve hauls himself back up and resumes the previous pace. Thrusting deep and quick and Eddie moans, feeling split open and raw. Feels his cheeks wet with tears and he knows he’s being loud but his mind is so so quiet. Nothing but the feeling of Steve and the blanket of getting taken care of. 

‘My pretty boy. My baby. You’re everything Eddie, my everything. I love you so much, love you more than anything.’ Steve pants out and Eddie cries. Tears falling into his hairline, cheeks warm and he’s probably splotchy all the way down his chest but Steve pushes into him deeper, speeding up and grazing that spot within him. 

Eddie feels his orgasm build inside him. A string of wet ‘ah ah ah’s’ leaving his lips, in time with Steve’s quick thrusts. 

Steve changed angle, leaning over Eddie again, holding himself up on his palms. Able to get impossibly deeper, Eddie feeling him up his spine, in his mouth, all over. 

‘Together baby, together.’ Steve pants, wrapping one giant hand around Eddie, fisting in time with his thrusts. Which are getting sloppier, but still so deep. 

Eddie arches of the bed, hands grasping for purchase on Steve’s broad shoulders, his neck. Their chests pressing together as Steve bottoms out again. Tugging on Eddie just right, filling him up with a deep moan. ‘Daddy.’ Eddie wails, cumming all over their stomachs and chests, some hitting his chin as he gulps for breath. Fingers still digging into Steve’s skin, keeping him close. 

Steve grinds his softening cock into Eddie, sinking down on top of him, a deep body pressure. Eddie drifts. 

Steve is laying on his side mouthing at Eddie’s neck, leaving soft kisses over his skin and scars, up over his cheeks. Eddie groans, turning and wrapping his arms around Steve. Crowding in closer so their bodies are back flush. 

Steve hums, petting Eddie’s hair and kissing the crown of his head. ‘Back with me again sleepy head?’ He asks. 

Eddie grunts, nibbling at Steves collarbone, mouthing and smoothing his lips over Steves soft skin. Eddie still feeling fragile, a little quiet, and needy. 

But so, so much better than before. 

‘Thank you.’ He mumbles, voice wobbling, but he’s too tired to cry any more today. 

‘Baby.’ Steve coos, kissing Eddie’s head again. ‘No need for that, want to help. Love you so much Ed’s, always.’ 

Eddie sniffs again, hiding in the darkness of Steve’s chest, hiding away in his heart, in his bones. Still awed by the beauty and kindness of his soul. 

He knows Steve’s got him, will let him rest there, basking and healing. Until he’s ready to face it all again. 

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Tag List: @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @scoops-aboy86 @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor @marvel-ous-m

#it’s done!!! #ty so much everyone for reading along #a sweet soft one to end us :) #mwah! #hotlunch #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #my fic #sub eddie week #subeddieweek #<3

[sporadicthingcollection]

The Unskinny Bop (Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: You're a really good cook and that's most of the problem. The rest of it is that he's too weak-willed to resist a treat right in front of him. Pairing: Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: 🌶 Explicit 🌶 Word Count: ~6.1k Warnings: Body insecurity (male and female), cunnilingus, masturbation, PiV sex A/N: Dad Bod Buggy my beloved

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She's playing all night And the music's all right Mama's got a squeeze box And Daddy never sleeps at night

---

It's his own damn fault, really.

He's the one who charmed the pretty diner cook — that’d be you — into joining his crew. It was an easy sell. You get off of the little podunk island you’re stuck on and he gets those delicious little puffy pastry things every morning.

What he didn’t expect was how well you made everything else. He's had to let his pants out three times in two months because of it.

Fluffy pancakes, perfectly slung hash, and a pie-looking thing with eggs and vegetables and cheese you called a “keesh” for breakfast. Sandwiches stuffed with veggies and meat, piles of pasta tossed in rich sauce, and thick slabs of juicy steak for dinner. Not to mention the mountains of snacks and treats in between.

He came to realize that food is a key aspect of your personality. It's just what you do. A dog chases its tail, Richie pushes things off of tables, and you flit around the deck like a pastry pixie, abducting people into the galley for taste-testing. 

Like right now.

His only warning that you're coming is a chirped “Captain!” before he's yanked through the door. He doesn't even have time to react before you've shoved a spoonful of something into his mouth.

He's not surprised. You do it to everyone who walks in. Food is how you show affection.

“Whaddya think?” you ask.

He swallows it too quickly to make a judgment, but it's sweet and that's all he needs to know. “Tasty.”

Every time you smile, he swears a flashbulb goes off somewhere. “Good,” you say. “It'll be even better tomorrow.”

He doesn't even bother to hide the whine. “What?”

“They're icebox pies, silly goose,” you say. “You gotta let ‘em chill.”

Another thing about you is that you're a tease. Form-fitting blouses done up just a button too short and your hair pulled back to show off your soft shoulders. A sweet little wink and a touch of the shoulder as you place a plate in front of him. And now feeding him something delicious only to tell him he has to wait until tomorrow to have more.

Your fingers snapping in front of his face jolt him back to the present. “Huh?”

“I asked if you wanted to lick the spoon,” you say.

Does he wanna lick the spoon? What kind of question is that? He plucks it from your hands. “Is the sky blue? Do bears shit in the woods? Am I the captain?”

You roll your eyes, but you smile. “Gonna stick these in the big cooler and I'll be right back for the other,” you say.

Carefully, you pick up two of the three foil-covered pie tins resting on the counter and turn on your heel.

He watches you closely as you round the corner and out of sight. Such a nice soft ass you've got. He desperately wants to grab it, but the one time you got goosed, you slugged the guy so hard he was out cold for the rest of the day.

Something pink, creamy, and flecked with seeds coats the wooden spoon. He drags his tongue along the back of it and--

Oh. Oh, that is good.

His taste buds scream in ecstasy. The slightest little moan escapes his lips. For the briefest of moments, he thinks it's better than sex and his cock twitches, but he regains his sense of self before going completely mad.

He licks and licks and licks until every little drop of pink, sweet, creamy filling is gone.

Frustration bubbles in his chest. Waiting all night for this is gonna suck. Especially since you probably won't be whipping it out for breakfast.

He is captain, though. He could order you to give it to him. But you'd almost certainly laugh in his face and he really, really doesn't want that.

The shimmer of foil catches his eye. The third pie sits on the counter. Untouched. Uneaten. Mocking him in its creamy deliciousness.

He looks around. You're nowhere to be seen.

...maybe just a little bit.

He scrapes barely half a spoonful from the top. Not enough to be noticeable, just enough to satisfy his sweet tooth.

Mmm. Smooth. Thick. Sweet. Fruity. Delicious.

...a little bit more can't hurt. Then he can wait until tomorrow.

He gets a piece of the fruit itself this time and the squirt of juice on his tongue is enough to make him spoon up another dollop. And then another. And then another.

This is why your pants are so tight, his inner monologue chides. This is why you need a new belt. This is why you wear that thing around your waist. Goddamn hedonist.

They're not that tight, he retorts. And they wouldn't be at all if you weren't such a damn good cook. It's all your fault for putting delicious food in front of him and looking so pretty while doing it.

He turns to lean against the counter, only to stop dead.

You're standing there, eyes wide and brows raised. You point at him, then at the pie tin, then back at him. “Are you... Eating the...?”

“No,” he says quickly. He realizes he's holding the pie tin. “No.”

Something odd glints in your eyes as you approach him. Gingerly, you take the pie and the spoon from his hands. He lets you. You step even closer.

You're so close to him, close enough for him to feel the rise and fall of your breasts. Hell, you're so short compared to him that he can see straight down your shirt.

His heart races. What are you going to do? Throw it out? Throw him out? Punch his lights out? Never speak of this again? 

To his amazement, you do none of those things. Instead, you spoon up a bit more of the pie filling and raise it to his lips. You blink up at him with big doe eyes.

He looks between you and the spoon a few times. This can't be right. You should be furious. He opens his mouth to say something, but it's forgotten as you shove the spoon in his mouth.

Why are strawberries so delicious? Why is he so weak? Why are your breasts so warm and squishy against him?

He swallows it and, as he opens his mouth to breath, you shove another spoonful in. It's just as good the twentieth time.

You offer him another. And another. And another. He accepts them all.

Until he goes to take another and you pull it away. He frowns at you. You pull it back farther and farther. He grabs your wrist and pulls your hand closer. You resist, but he's spent every day of his life trimming sails and hauling cargo.

He gets the spoon into his mouth and claims his prize with a smirk.

That glint in your eyes turns into a blaze. You drop the pie tin and spoon and they hit the floor with a clatter. Pulling your wrist from his grip, you grab him by the cheeks and yank him into a kiss.

He yelps against your lips and you take the opportunity to shove your tongue between them. Licking, lapping, pressing your soft, warm body right up against his.

Only a eunuch could resist this.

He kisses you back with the same fervor, grabbing your ass to lift you up a bit and it's so soft and pliant and perfect that he can't help but dig his fingers in.

Oh, it's everything he dreamed it would be. Your warm lips moving against his, your slick tongue dancing in his mouth, your soft palms gripping his jaw.

You've lapped up all the lingering sweetness in his mouth by the time he runs out of breath. He pushes you away and you whimper, your eyes wide and your shoulders heaving up and down.

Deprived of oxygen, he says something completely, absolutely, utterly brain dead. “Can I touch your tits?”

Instead of slapping him, you nod so hard your updo shakes loose. Curly strands fall in your face.

He blinks. “Wait, really?” You nod harder. “You sure?”

Something in you snaps. He can see it in your eyes. You grab him by the hand and damn near drag him out the door.

A quick trip up the stairs and across the main deck and he's pushing open the door to his quarters. You bustle past him and, once the click of the lock sounds, you grab him by the collar and yank him into another kiss, just as wet and desperate as the last.

He barely has enough time to shuck his coat about you throw him onto the bed, clambering atop him. You're a bit heavier than he expects. Not that he says that to your face, but you’re so light on your feet that he was starting to think you were filled with cotton candy. You're certainly sweet enough.

You yank his hat from his head and toss it aside. His bandana follows and his hair falls around his shoulders.

You suck in a breath. “So pretty.”

He shrugs. “Thanks-- mmph.”

He’s silenced by you standing on your knees to pull his hair out of its pigtails. This requires you to stick your tits in his face and oh my god they're like big marshmallows you smell like cinnamon.

He can't help himself. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you in closer, breathing deeply. So warm, so soft.

You giggle and the vibration makes his face tingle. You pull away to fiddle with your blouse buttons. “Wanna know a secret?” you whisper.

“Is the secret boobs?” Wow, what the hell was that? He needs to stop talking.

Lucky for him, you grin. You open your blouse and a whole lot more than he was expecting spills out. You toss the blouse to the side and plant your hands on your hips. “Va-va-voom.”

He's speechless. Shaken. Struck utterly dumb by the sight before him. All he can do is pull off his gloves and take them in his hands, pushing them, weighing them, squeezing them. There’s just… so much. Round, squishy, bouncy, threatening to surge right out of your lacy bra.

“I am but one man,” he mumbles.

That makes you giggle and that makes them jiggle. Like two sacks of...like a pair of...

...he can't think of a metaphor that isn't unpleasant, so he just sticks his face in there again before something else stupid comes out of his mouth. You laugh even more and it vibrates against his cheeks and his -- that... -- and if God struck him down at this very second he would die a happy man.

You let him linger a moment before throwing your weight forward to push him onto the bed. He whimpers like a kicked puppy as you pull away.

You nibble your lip and knit your brow up as you fumble with his belt. “I showed you mine, now you show me yours.”

He's flattered, but it's the only thing keeping his stomach in check. That can't come off yet.

He takes your hands in his own. “What's the rush, beautiful?” he says. He brings them to his lips, first one, then the other. He gently kisses your knuckles, your palms, your wrists. “This is your show. We got all night.”

You're cute when you huff. You're even cuter when your face screws up into a pout. You yank your hands away and plant them on your soft hips. “Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for this?” you whine.

That throws him for a loop and a half. You've wanted him too? Someone as clever and cute and talented as you wanted... him? He's not used to that. Not used to that at all.

He's stunned just long enough for you to get his belt open. You move on to his vest straps next, making quick work of those. He sucks his stomach in just as you pull it open.

Your eyes widen, and you break into a grin as they sweep up and down his torso. “Oh, hell-o,” you say, voice breathless.

He's bright red, he just knows it. “Hi,” he replies dumbly. He hopes the strain in his voice isn't too obvious.

You grin even wider. Your fingers ghost up his sides -- thank God it's his feet that are ticklish -- right up to his pecs. You give them a squeeze, not unlike how he palmed your breasts a few moments ago. The slightest of squeaks escapes him.

“I knew you were hiding something good,” you say. You give his nipples a tweak -- he squeaks louder -- and trail your fingers down to his waistband. “Let's see what else you've been keeping from me.��

He knows you're talking about his dick. He panics all the same.

He shoots a hand out to kill the light -- that should buy him some time -- and throws his weight into flipping you over. You squeal as he pins you to the bed and yanks your pants off.

And then he realizes. Your breasts? They're proportional.

Beneath him is the most lovely expanse of body he's ever seen. Soft and warm and squishy and made of convex curves that flow from gentle arms and smooth shoulders right into a pair of plump hips and shapely thighs.

He can't form words. He can't form thoughts. All he can do is stare with his mouth dropped open. What else can you do when you're in the presence of the divine?

And then he sees your face. Your eyes wide and unsure as they dart around the room. Your lips pressed together into a terse line. 

“What?” he asks.

The line scrunches to the side. “I'm bigger than I ought to be, I know,” you say. You sound as if you've said it a thousand times.

He gets mad. He can't help it. It's what he does. “Are you shitting me?”

You flinch a little, though more out of surprise than fear. “N-No, I don't--”

He wants to say so many things. About how this is perfection. About how you are the most gorgeous human being he's ever laid eyes on. About how this is everything he's ever wanted in life. How you're everything and you shouldn't be so damn sheepish.

But he can't get it out. All that comes out is a raspy, rude, “Shut the fuck up.”

You stare at him in shock. And not the fun shock. It's the kind where you're not sure if you've stepped on eggshells or not.

Fuck it. No time for words. He grabs your thighs and pulls you forward, yanking your panties off and sweet holy shit you don't shave down there how could you possibly be any more perfect?

His mouth waters. His cock throbs. He dives in. He drags his tongue up your inner thighs, soft and smooth and sweet as that pie.

“Captain--!” A nip to the tender flesh turns the exclamation into a squeak.

“I said shut up,” he says between kisses.

Finally, you stop talking. You only pant and moan as he shoves his face into your pussy, lapping at your already sopping cunt. Did he do this? Are you this wet because of him?

He can't help it. He stuffs his hand down the front of his pants to fondle himself. Like the desperate bastard he is, his cock’s hard and leaking already.

He grinds against his palm as he gorges himself on you. Licking, sucking, swirling, punctuating with a few nips for good measure. It's all harmonized by the most beautiful sounds he's ever heard flowing from your lips, high-pitched and whiny.

He's not sure how long has passed when you grab his head and push him away. Time flows strangely between your thighs.

You've got a crazed look in your eyes again. “I want you inside me.”

He wants to say something clever, something cool and on brand for him, like it's not time for the finale yet or but my leading lady isn't satisfied.

But that would delay being inside you and he's too addled to think of anything. He jumps to his feet and wriggles out of his trousers and shorts. If he were more aware of himself, he'd be humiliated by just how much he has to shimmy and dance around to get them off his hips, but there's not enough blood in his brain to be self-conscious.

He kicks them away in whatever direction. Something crashes to the floor and he doesn't care. He looks back to your beautiful face--

You're wide-eyed as you look at him. He follows your gaze, right down to his--

In all the excitement, he's not sucking it in anymore.

Now it's his turn to be sheepish. He sucks it in again. But he can't hold it. Too much blood in his cock. He tries again with the same result.

Unfortunately for him, it's drawn your attention even more. Off comes your bra, and you don't take your eyes off his stomach the whole time.

Now he really can't think anymore. They're just so pretty and perfect. You're so pretty and perfect. He doesn't deserve this. This is a hell of a mismatch if ever there was one. You, divinity in the flesh. Him, a fat, dirty old clown.

This is a joke. It has to be. Someone put you up to this and now you're gonna back out and he's gonna let you because you deserve better so he better just rip the bandage off now and--

“Out,” he spits. “Get out.”

You blink at him in shock, then your face hardens. You speak with the firmness of a queen who's sick of her courtiers’ bullshit. “Get over here and get on top of me.”

You're mocking him. You gotta be. There’s no other explanation. “I said--”

You look him in the eyes. Something dangerous glitters there. “Buggy, get the fuck on top of me.”

It comes out at a hoarse yell. “Stop mocking me!”

You spring upwards and, with that wild strength that surprises him every time, you throw him on the bed. It squeaks as he bounces -- actually, that might have come from him.

You've got a look on your face he can only describe as murderous. “I did not wait two months for you to chicken out,” you say. You clamber onto him. “I did not wait two fucking months for you to finally man up and say something only for you to get self-conscious!”

Fear, anger, and arousal battle for control of his body. Arousal wins. You are hot as a griddle when you're mad.

You sit yourself on his belly, just above his cock. It twitches against your ass and he's sure it's made of clouds and he groans.

“Look at me,” you say.

He doesn't. He can't. He doesn't want to see the scorn that's surely in your eyes.

You learn forward and grab his chin, squeezing his cheeks and forcing him to look. Even in the dim light, he can see the sheen of sweat on your face and the rise and fall of your chest as you pant.

“If you want me to leave, I will,” you say, “but you will never get this chance again.”

No. No no no no. He wants you. He wants you so bad. He's never had perfection this close and it's never wanted him as much as you seem to.

“Do you want me to leave?” you ask firmly.

He shakes his head so hard it hurts.

You don't grin. You simply release his chin and lift yourself up. You lower yourself on his cock and, as he watches it disappear, inch by slick inch into your hot, wet pussy, the battle is over.

He doesn't care if this is a trick anymore. He's going to get his.

He grabs your thighs and pulls you down onto him, fingers sinking into the smooth flesh. You gasp as he bottoms out, gripping the swell of his hips. He doesn't care. They're called love handles for a reason.

And then you start to bounce.

It starts in your legs. Pumping your thighs to lift yourself up and drop down onto his cock. The jolt ripples through your whole body, from your thighs to your belly to your breasts.

He's transfixed. So transfixed that he doesn't even notice you grabbing his pecs, squishing and squashing them between your gentle fingers. You tweak his nipples and he damn near howls.

He can't let you have all the fun. He pops his hand off to swirl his fingers around your clit.

But you don't cry out or moan. You start babbling. Something about eating and how hot he is and how much you love that he loves your cooking and it's all interspersed with pleasant-sounding gibberish. But he doesn't hear a word of it. You're too warm and slick and it goes in one ear and it the other.

But the sounds. God, the sounds of him sliding in and out of you. Wet and disgusting and it makes his mouth water and his cock leak and that just makes it wetter--

The slap of skin on skin and wet on wet and his moans and your chattering all mingle into a delicious symphony. 

But it stops all too soon. Your breath hitches and you bend at the waist, singing his name like a songbird, the same little melody over and over. “Buggy, Buggy, Buggy...!”

His name dissolves into little yips and gasps as your cunt flutters around his cock. It's so good. Better than treasure. Better than adrenaline. Better than a full belly after a hard day's work--

He realizes he's not wearing a condom. Fuck. “Where ya want it?” he grunts.

You don't hesitate. “In me,” you say between gasps.

In you? Inside you? Spilling his hot, wet cum into your hot, wet cunt? Your cunt? Soaking it? Seeding it? Making it even messier and sloppier and filling you up so much that--

He almost pops right then and there, but he bites his lip. “Nuh-uh. Where?”

“In me!” you spit.

He whines the most unmanly of whines. He will. He won't. He wants to. He can't. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Captain,” you whimper, “Buggy, please...”

He looks up at you. Your hands on his chest, your breasts heaving with each breath, your little belly rising and falling, your luscious thighs on either side of his hips, your lips dropped open as you pant, your bush surrounding his fingers--

God damn it.

He throws you to the side as he pops like a champagne cork. A few drops end up on you, but most of it splatters onto the underside of his belly, where it's started obeying gravity.

One hand grips the sheets and the other grips something warm and his hips buck and his head swims and his mouth makes utterly pathetic noises. Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes.

He crashes back to earth like a meteor strike. All he can see is white as he flops back onto the mattress, gasping for breath.

He has no idea how long it takes for him to recover. But something soft tickles the knuckles of his detached hand. A shudder racks him as he turns his head towards you.

Post-orgasm haze still clouds your eyes, but they're big and round as a doe’s as you cradle his hand close to his face. You press your lips to his knuckles.

He gives a weak smile. “Hi.”

You giggle. God, he loves that giggle. He wishes he could hear it every day. He'd put it in a sea shell if he could, carry it around in his pocket and press it to his ear whenever he feels lonely. Or spin it into cotton candy. It's certainly light and sweet enough. Or whip it up onto a foam and fold it into batter like he watched you do that one time for cake...

His stomach growls. He needs to stop thinking about food.

You kiss his knuckles again, still smiling so very sweetly. “Are you alright?”

“Fuckin’ amazing,” he mumbles. It's the truth.

Detaching his other hand, he feels around on the floor. There's a towel here somewhere... Unless he threw it on the chair... Or over the folding screen...

He finds it slung over the door of his wardrobe. He offers it to you, but you shake your head. “After you.”

Suit yourself. He mops his belly up as you watch. Shit, this was a big one.

Satisfied, he tosses the towel away. He rolls over to take you in his arms, but he finds nothing. You're standing up, pulling his coat on and closing it around your front.

“Get over here,” he says. “That's an order.”

“I gotta clean up,” you say.

He panics. He can't help it. His voice quivers like a child's. “Don’t leave. Please.”

You give him a kind look that almost makes him cry. “I’ll be right back,” you coo. “I promise.”

He doesn't want to be alone. Not now. Tears prick at his eyes and his lip quivers. But you're out the door before he can stop you.

You're not coming back. He knows it. He disappointed you. How could he not? You're beautiful. You're divine. You're perfect.

And what is he? A fat old clown.

He lays there, shivering in the cold air, too afraid to move. Too aware of his shortcomings. Too aware of every flaw, every defect, every deficiency. His temper. His teeth. His nose. His appetite. His everything.

The door opens. The moonlight frames your silhouette for a moment before you close the door behind you.

He nearly sobs with relief. You don't notice, thankfully, as you shuck his coat.

He launches his arms at you as he sits upright, pulling you into an embrace as he falls back down. He lays you to the side, slipping under your arm and tucking his head in the crook between your chin and chest.

You thread your fingers through his hair. “Don't tell me you thought I wasn't coming back.”

He murmurs something he forgets as soon as it leaves his lips. You're so soft. So warm. So comfortable. And he's so exhausted.

You giggle. You kiss his forehead and slide your fingers through his hair. “Bonwee, sha.”

He has no idea what that means, but you say it with such warmth that it must be something good. He snuggles up close to you.

Rocked by the sea and calmed by your heartbeat, he drifts off.

---

He sleeps well, but he stirs a few times.

The first is when you shift out from under him, mumbling something in a language he can't place. You roll onto your side, your back to him. He doesn't like that at all and pulls you in to be the little spoon. You squeak. It's cute. He doesn't care that his belly presses against your back. 

He stirs again when his arm falls asleep and he rolls onto his side. You follow him this time. You press yourself right up against his back, breasts and belly and thighs squishing against him. You're so warm.

The final time is as the gray light of dawn slips through the windows. He's shaken from a dream and he grumbles.

“I gotta go get started on breakfast,” you whisper. “Just wanted to let you know I wasn't lovin’ and leavin’.”

That's so sweet of you. “You're so sweet,” he mumbles sweetly.

You giggle. “See you in a few hours.”

You kiss the tip of his nose and he's not even upset.

===

You had a lovely night, but you're walking a bit funny and it's making your usual bustling around the galley just difficult enough to be annoying. And the visions of your stark naked captain filling your head are making it even harder.

You're a very simple woman, like your mother before you. You like men. You like food. You like men who like food. You especially like men who like your food.

Captain Buggy's a man. Captain Buggy likes food. And he loves your food, if his constant hovering in the galley is anything to go on. And he loves it a lot and it's showing.

The memory of him lying beneath you, his warm hips against your thighs, his belly wobbling as you bounce atop him, his head thrown back in bliss, surprises you just as you're tossing a flapjack. It slams into the ceiling and stays there.

Your fellow cook, a swarthy fellow going by Bloomer, casts the new ceiling decor an odd look. He turns it on you. “You alright, girl?”

You know what? Screw this. Everyone else can handle breakfast. “I'm gonna go wake up the captain,” you say. “How's he like his coffee?”

Milk and two cubes of sugar, he tells you. You put in cream and three cubes. Man's gotta get his strength back from last night, you tell yourself as you set off across the deck. 

You knock three times on the door. No answer. You knock harder. Still nothing. You take that as a sign he may be dead and enter just in case.

Captain Buggy is, in fact, quite alive, if not also naked. He's in front of the mirror... or his face is, anyways. His body is turned completely around as he examines the reflection of his rear. He grabs a handful, thick fingers sinking into the squish. He gives it a jiggle and it wobbles.

You don't blame him. It's a great ass. Perfect for grabbing and digging your nails into. Next time, you're making him get on top so you can do just that. 

But you prefer his front. That's where all the good shit is. Soft, muscular pecs, perfect for grabbing and groping, covered in a dusting of hair that trails down to his soft belly.

His hands go there next, pinching his sides. He gives them a shake and his belly bounces. 

That little zing shoots up your gut and into your throat, that one you always get around men like him. That same one as when you first saw him from across the diner, draining a pitcher of beer. The same one you had last night when you walked in on him eating pie filling. And now, watching him preening after a wild romp.

...or you thought he was preening. He turns his body around and as his hands go to his face -- he's got a stronger jawline than you'd expected when he's barefaced -- you notice his laugh lines deepen. He lets out a grunt of disgust as his lips curl.

You frown. He's saying ugh as if you couldn't keep your hands off of him last night. Coaxing him in closer with pie filling just so you could feel his body molding against yours. Grabbing his cheeks and yanking him in for a kiss you'd been craving for months. Dragging him to his cabin and fucking yourself on him while you dug your nails into whatever soft flesh you could grab.

You close the door with a firm check of the hips. The slam startles him, but he calms as he sees you. Somewhat. There's still an uneasy look in his eye.

“G’morning,” he says. A little blush blooms across his cheeks. He avoids eye contact.

He'd be cute if he wasn't pathetic. You set the coffee down on the nearest surface and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your hands on the swell just above his hips and resting your cheek between his shoulder blades.

“Thank you for finally taking the hint,” you say into his skin.

He chuckles, a low, vibrating thrum. “I never miss a cue, baby.”

Lies. You've been trying everything. Flirting. Making his favorite food. You even went braless one day on a supply run with him and he didn't even blink. Idiot.

“Then why'd it take you so damn long?”

He scoffs. “Had to make sure I wasn't seeing things,” he mumbles.

He's so pathetic. Like a wet cat. You can't help but squeeze his sides--

He jumps away from you like you gave him an electric shock. “Stop it!” he spits.

You blink. “Stop what?”

“Stop-- Stop mocking me!”

You blink a few more times. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

The flush deepens along with his scowl. “Quit touching me like that.”

Not what he was saying last night. “Like what?”

“Stop grabbing my--” He huffs. “I know I’m fat. Quit rubbing it in.”

Pardon? Did you hear that correctly? Does he know who he's talking to? You try to keep your tone even, but you were never good at that. “Permission to speak freely, Captain?”

He blanches. “...No.”

Too bad. You grab him by the waist and throw him onto the bed. He yelps as he bounces, then once again as you straddle his waist.

“Buggy. Darling. Cher,” you say. “Do you really think I would have fucked you if I didn't think you were hot shit?”

He simmers like a boiling pot with the lid still on. “Maybe!”

Pour l’amour de Dieu, c’est un contraieuse et un tête de cabri et pourquoi ce clown so fucking stupid?

You scoot backwards, kissing your way down his chest. Each one gets a tiny grunt from him until you get to his belly. He growls and tries to roll away, but you hold fast. You gently kiss just above his navel, then the tuft of blue hair right below it.

You peer up at him. He peers back, brow knit up, questioning you.

You press your face into his navel and blow a raspberry against his skin.

Buggy squeal-laughs. You've never heard him make that noise before and it's very cute. You do it again and he devolves into laughter.

“Sto-o-op!” he cackles.

You do not. You do it again and again until he's wheezing and not scowling any more. You stare up at him, fingering the tuft of hair below his navel.

He comes down slowly, cackles turning to giggles to breathless gasps. He finally sees you staring. “What?”

“Feeling better?” you ask. He huffs, but he does nod. “Good. Now stop being mean to my favorite captain.”

He frowns a bit at that. “Who’s that? Alvida? When'd she come up?” You keep staring at him. He blinks. “Wait, you mean--?”

Gros couillion. “No, the other guy I fucked last night,” you say. He bristles. Fuck’s sake. “Yes, you!”

He blinks again. The flush returns. “You mean that?”

“I wouldn't be on top of your naked-ass body if I didn't.” You place lean in close, the tip of your nose bumping his. “And you have a very nice body, Captain.”

Just for emphasis, you grab his side, right at the fleshiest part, and give a hard squeeze. He jumps, but nods.

He tries to dive in for a kiss, but you pull away. If you do that, you'll be here all morning. You stand up, offering him your hands. “C’mon, breakfast is ready,” you say.

“I'm not hungry.” His stomach growls. He glares at it. “Shut up.”

Trump card time. “Guess I'll just have to feed all those beignets to Richie, then.”

His eyes go wide. “...you made bin-yays?”

He still can't pronounce it right, but he's getting there. “Sure did,” you say coolly. You examine your nails. “Won't be good for much longer.”

His stomach growls again. “And that pie?” 

“Should be good to go, but you better be quick. They'll go fast.”

He jumps to his feet and licks his lips. “Well, keep some for me! Lemme-- Lemme get dressed and I'll be right down.”

“Don't take too long,” you say.

You turn to leave, but he grabs your hand. With a yank and a twirl, he pulls you flush against him and into a kiss.

You melt right into it. Rough lips move against yours, his warm body molds against you, strong arms holding you tight, belly pressing against yours... his nose squishing into your cheek. Wonderful, all of it.

You separate with a pop. He grins at you and wipes his wrist along his lips. “Didn’t think I was gonna let you leave without that?”

You blush. Now he decides to be slick. “Just get dressed.”

You twirl him around and, with a flat hand, you swat his ass. Just to see it quiver. The slap echoes in the small room and he jumps, but you can't stick around to see the look on his face.

You've got work to do.

---

Special thanks to my bf, Meg, and Ollie for beta-ing!

To the Mastahpost | To the Tip Jar

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece live action #fan fiction #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #x reader #emberly writes #dad bod buggy

[cupid-styles]

sunshine girl*

Harry and Daisy decide to go steady, but not everyone is supportive and Daisy's insecurities are starting to get the best of her.

70s!harry and virgin!fmc | Content warnings: outdated views on virginity and the LGBTQ+ community, pubic hair talk (if it's not your thing that's fine!), drugs, smut!!!! (dirty talk, a little bit of anal)

Word count: 6k (a third part is coming!)

Part one |

"Harry, would you mind not groping my best friend when I'm around?"

A furious blush flowers over Daisy neck at Willow's commentary, but Harry simply rolls his eyes. Five years apart, he's used to his sister's relentless teasing and mocking words, but it's a new phenomenon for Daisy. She's accustomed to Willow always being on her side and treating her with love and kindness, regardless of what she's doing or who she' seeing.

It was safe to say that the newfound romance between Daisy and Harry took some getting used to. 

"Willow, would you mind not being such a heartless little brat?" Harry bites, and Willow immediately raises her middle finger to shove in his face. 

"I told you guys, I don't care if you're banging or whatever, just don't do it in front of me."

"Enough," Daisy finally speaks up, leaning forward and shrugging Harry's arm off of her shoulders, "I'm gonna stop hanging out with both of you if you keep freaking out on each other every time we're together."

She stands from the worn couch in Harry and Willow's living room, zeroing in on the siblings.

"Willow, you know we're not 'banging' so stop saying that. Harry, try to control yourself a little better. Hug it out and make up by the time I'm back for the shindig after work, alright?"

They both nod their heads, looking like wounded puppies. They're not used to Daisy taking such a stance, but over the past month, her and Harry have been seeing each other more regularly. They immediately agreed that it was important to let Willow know — neither wanted to hide this from her, and while they hadn't expected her to jump for joy, they had anticipated a bit more support.

Instead, when Daisy and Harry were shuttered away in his bedroom, listening to records and making out, Willow treated her like any other one night stand. She flared her nostrils and made impolite comments, always huffing about the way he touched her, even though they weren't even officially dating. Daisy didn't know what they were, but she did know one thing: She was still a virgin, and it gave her insane amounts of anxiety.

It had nothing to do with how Harry treated her. In fact, he handled her with the utmost amount of respect and sweetness. It had only been a few weeks since their first physical encounter, but even then, he'd been so gentle with her — after he made her cum, he guided Daisy's shaky legs to the bathroom and ran a shower for her. She'd felt awkward about taking a shower together, so he sat on the covered toilet seat while they talked about anything and everything. Afterwards, he dressed her in one of his favorite worn-in band shirts, propped her up on his fluffiest pillows, and ran down the street to grab them burgers from his favorite diner. 

It was barely two days before Harry stopped into the record store during her shift, asking if he could come over after she was done.

They hadn't gone on any dates yet, but in complete fairness, it was hard to do. Harry worked every day and Daisy often worked closing shifts, which meant she wasn't finished until midnight. On those days, Harry would meet her outside and walk her home. And on the rare occasion when neither of them were working or busy, they were cooped up and tangled between bedsheets, wanting nothing more than to lick into each other's mouths. 

Daisy likes Harry. A lot. And she knows that he had admitted to having feelings for her too — it's what caused the whole thing to start, after all — but he hasn't made a move to shift things to relationship territory, and she's too scared to do it. What if he changed his mind? What if he wanted to keep things casual and physical? What if... what if he didn't want to date a virgin?

As she steps into Sam's Records, she sighs and shakes her head, willing the negative thoughts to physically leave her brain. She shoots a small smile at Warren, her coworker who's high out of his mind most times than not. Daisy swears that he emits a permanent scent of weed, seeping from his pores regardless of whether or not he's smoked.

"What's happenin', Daisy?" Warren greets as she slides onto the barstool behind the cash register. 

"Not much. How's the shop been so far?" 

Warren shrugs his shoulders as he continues shuffling through the shipment box of new records, "Pretty decent, couple of college chicks came in for the new Bee Gees joint. A kid was asking when we're getting the new Styx record, so I'm gonna ask Sam about it later." 

Daisy nods and begins to straighten up the front of the store. Warren isn't nearly as organized as she was, but she finds comfort in the routine of piling Rolling Stone magazines, emptying ash trays, and changing out the music. She was putting on Rumours for the billionth time when Warren whistled out, "Dais, lover boy alert!" 

She knows before she turns around that Harry's walking into the store. Warren started referring to him as "lover boy" after he saw Harry leaning over the front counter to press a kiss to Daisy's cheek a few weeks back.

Daisy smiles to herself when she sees him, long legs clad in swishy burnt orange bell bottoms and a ringer tee stretched over his chest. A cigarette hangs from his lips but he's quick to remove it when he focuses in on Daisy, a bright grin on his face. 

"Hey, pretty lady," he greets as he stubs out his cigarette in one of the ash trays. 

"Hey yourself. Didn't I just see you?" She giggles and Harry shrugs his shoulders, his smile shifting to a guilty smirk. 

"Yeah, but my sister was there. Wanted to get some time with you without her." 

"H..." Daisy sighs, her eyes darting to the front door when the bell jingles, signaling the entrance of new customers. "This whole act is getting old."

"'S not my fault she's miserable no one wants to jive with her."

She sighs and shakes her head. "You have to let it go. In her defense, I was her friend first. Us being... a thing has to be kinda weird for her, don't you think? It's alright for her to bug out a little."

Harry shrugs his shoulders as he lifts his hand to run it through his hair. Daisy had convinced him to let it grow out just a tad bit longer, the ends now meeting the bottoms of his earlobes. 

"Whatever, Dais," he mumbles, "You psyched for the joint tonight? It's been a minute since we've hosted." 

"It has been, hm?" Daisy agrees, "It'll be groovy as long as you let me play some ABBA." 

Harry grins cheekily and lets out a laugh. "Only for my disco queen." 

She tries not to blush as he leans over the register to press a quick kiss to her mouth, but not before his lips linger alongside her ear. "Did I mention how totally foxy you look today? My pretty bunny in those tiny denim shorts." 

"Harry," she murmurs in fake shock, though the giant smile plastered across her face gives her away. "Go home, you'll get me when I'm done with my shift here, okay?"

"Far out, Dais," Harry says with a grin, stepping away from the counter, "Make sure you walk over with Warren, capiche? You know I don't like you leaving work alone at night."

"10-4, captain."

He chuckles and nods a goodbye to Warren on his way out, a pep in his step as he thinks about spending the night with his sweet little disco girl. Daisy has the same love struck smile on her face. 

. . . Sam's Records closes at 11 pm. After that, Daisy has to lock the doors, count the day's earnings, put it in the safe, sweep, and clean up the shop so tomorrow's opening employee — a sweet girl named Penny, who spent the last year following Led Zeppelin on tour — could start the day with ease.

It's helpful to have Warren there, who's quicker at dealing with the cash, and they're able to make it out of the store by 11:45. Daisy's nearly bouncing on the balls of her feet as Warren locks up, feeling as if her heart has strings that are tugging her in the direction of Harry. 

"God, you two are really obsessed with each other, huh?" 

Daisy sucks her teeth at Warren's comment, though she knows it's all in good fun. He lights a cigarette as they begin the short distance to Harry and Willow's place. 

"How did Will take the news that you're banging her brother?"

There it is again — the assumption that her and Harry are just sleeping together. Sure, they do stuff together, but it seems like all anyone thinks is that they're with one another for physical intimacy. And even if that were the case, why hasn't Harry made a move to take her virginity yet?

She swallows roughly at an attempt to push down her insecurities, instead focusing on the cracks in the sidewalk and the thin smoke coming from Warren's cigarette. 

"She's warming up to it,"  Daisy replies, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "I think it's been an adjustment, but I can understand why."

"For sure. Willow's always been protective of H, it makes sense that she's not totally digging it."

"It's me, though," she protests, "She knows I won't do anything to hurt him."

Warren shrugs. "Yeah, maybe. But they've always been attached at the hip. Like, when we were in fifth grade, Willow cried almost every day at school and the only person that could calm her down was Harry. They'd call him at the high school and he'd come all the way down every time and the second she saw him, she stopped. They have a special bond, that's all."

Daisy's an only child, so it's hard for her to grasp such a tight knit relationship, but she gets it — she's been living in San Diego alongside the Styles siblings for years now, and she's seen that trust and love firsthand. She doesn't fight Warren on it, instead letting silence take over as they approach the familiar apartment, where Thin Lizzy's "The Boys Are Back in Town" is playing from the interior. 

"Looks like Harry still has dibs on the tunes," Warren smirks, stomping out his dead cigarette.

There are a few familiar faces out on the deck, all of who are currently taking smoke breaks. Daisy flashes them a friendly smile and Warren stays behind, likely to make a dent in the stash of drugs he brought in his bag. Nevertheless, she trucks on through the thick smoke enveloping the apartment — as usual, Willow and Harry never keep things casual when they host a party.

The place is flooded with people and it seems like there's drugs and booze everywhere: Girls are dancing in the living room over people snorting lines off the coffee table and the town's Dead Heads are perched on the couch, pupils as large as dinner plates. She doesn't care much for the atmosphere, though she does recognize Mitch, one of Harry's co-workers, in the corner with his girlfriend Sarah, each with cans of Bud Light in their hands. 

Daisy is about to make her way over to them when Harry suddenly appears, a large grin plastered across his face when he zeroes in on her. 

"Dais!" he exclaims, ambling forward to wrap his arms around her form. She giggles at his wide smile, her insides melting at his excitement to see her. "You made it."

"Of course I did, silly," Daisy laughs, pulling back slightly. He keeps an arm around her waist so their chests are flush against one another, and she notices the glazed over twinkle in his eyes; a true Harry identifier that he'd been hitting the bong in her absence. "Got this shindig started without me, did you?"

"Please, you know my night's never complete without my sunshine girl." 

She grins so hard her cheeks ache and he leans forward to press a quick kiss to her nose. "Interested in a little grass, lady love?"

"Sure," Daisy nods, "Where's your sis, though? Wanna make sure I say hey before we spark up."

Harry shrugs his shoulders as his grasp on Daisy's form relaxes. "Dunno. Haven't seen her in a bit."

She sighs and nods, forcing a small smile onto her lips. "Head on over to your fire escape and I'll meet you there in a tick, 'kay? I just wanna find Willow."

She can tell that he's not thrilled by this, but maybe it's the weed, or even her attempt at scolding him from earlier. Whatever it is, he nods, compliant in her ask, and gives her hand a small squeeze before scampering off in the direction of his locked bedroom.

Daisy heads for the kitchen first to grab a beer, knowing she'll need a little bit of liquid courage to meander through the crowded party looking for her best friend. There's a couple making out; one cornering the other, who sits atop the kitchen counter, and Daisy makes a mental note to tell Harry to wipe it down tomorrow once they're done nursing their hangovers. 

With a can of Miller in hand, she scopes the small apartment. Normally, Willow and Daisy are side-by-side at these things, splitting joints and schmoozing with strangers. Willow is naturally more extroverted than her; she's always suggesting they play Spin The Bottle or 7 Minutes in Heaven with their newfound friends while Daisy finds a nervous excuse to refuse. She's grateful that she has Harry now and doesn't have to sit there, watching Willow be more courageous than her.

Even on Daisy's tippy toes, the brunette is nowhere to be found. She rolls her lips into her mouth as she decides to check the bathroom, but all she finds is a line of girls actually trying to use it. She meanders to Willow's bedroom, which is always locked during parties, but gives it a try anyway. She gently raps her knuckles against the wood, pressing an ear to it. 

"Will? You in there?"

She doesn't think she hears any movement so she tries again, but she can't be sure with David Bowie's loud voice crooning through the apartment. She goes to knock a third time, but the door is ripped open before her hand makes contact. 

"What?" Willow hisses out before she realizes it's Daisy. Her eyes widen and she quickly closes the door a smidge, blocking Daisy from looking inside. 

"I was looking for you," Daisy says slowly, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "I just got here and you weren't out there..."

"Um, yeah. Migraine. Sorry." 

Willow's being weird, and not just in the weird "I-don't-like-you-being-with-my-brother" way she's been lately. The best friends never have secrets or hide things from each other, but something about this feels like uncharted territory. 

"Are you alright?" Daisy asks softly as she reaches out to gently touch her elbow, "Do you need water, or company?"

"I'm fine," Willow quips, "I'm just not into all this tonight. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

Daisy doesn't get a chance to ask another question before Willow narrowly slides behind the door, shutting and locking it in a flash. Her heart tugs at the girl. Her gut says that something is off, but Willow's never lied to her before, and she doesn't even want to think that's a possibility. She chooses to believe her and instead makes the short trek to Harry's room, doing their secret knock — three slow raps followed by two quick ones — to let him know that she's here. 

Over the past few weeks, Harry's room has become a safe space for her, and she physically feels her worries melt away when he opens the door and pulls her inside. She giggles when he presses her up against the now-locked door, placing his hands on either side of her head to cage her in. 

"I haven't had you to myself all day, sunshine." He mutters, leaning forward to gently nip at the skin below her jaw. 

"You're insatiable." Daisy mumbles, leaning up to wrap her arms around his neck. She plays at the loose curls gathering there, soft and silky from the shower he took this afternoon while she laid in his bed, reading a Judy Blume book. 

"'m not. Just obsessed with you." 

Her stomach flutters as their lips make contact. The kiss feels like home — soft and sweet as their mouths meld together, quickly picking up pace as eager tongues dance for dominance. Harry always wins, despite a solid fight put up on Daisy's end. 

She puts her hand to his chest and stops them before they get too carried away, though half of her mind drifts off to the orgasm he gave her last night; two of his fingers steadily pumping into her and stroking at the sensitive spot inside, his dirty mouth whispering promises of pleasure into her ear. 

"Willow was locked away in her room. She was acting kinda weird... did you guys have a fight before this?"

Harry's lips are spit-swollen and the color of a muted cherry red as he shakes his head. "No, she was pretty jazzed about tonight. We split half a bottle of wine and watched the news together." 

"Oh," Daisy says softly, insecurity quickly creeping into her brain. 

"I'm sure it had nothing to do with you, bunny. She might've not been feelin' well or something, don't get it twisted in that pretty head."

She nods, convincing herself to believe him. He knew her better than anyone else, and Willow did say she had a migraine. She breathes deeply and allows herself to fall into Harry's embrace, the familiar scent of his cologne, woody and sweet, instantly soothing her. 

"C'mon, let's go sit out on the fire escape."

Harry tugs at her hand and she follows him, pliant in his suggestion. They climb out the window and onto the grated structure. It's early September but the San Diego air is still thick with humidity, coating Daisy's exposed legs and arms. She slightly regrets picking out a suede mini skirt this morning, but when she grabbed it, she remembered that it was one of Harry's favorites on her. 

It's quiet between them as Harry digs in his pocket for a joint and his lighter. The party sounds miles away now, and Daisy leans her elbows on the steel banister, taking in the inky night sky. Out here, it really did just feel like her and Harry were the only ones who matter. 

Harry sparks up and takes a deep drag before passing it to Daisy. She readily accepts it and sticks it between her lips, inhaling with fluttered eyes. She can feel Harry watching her but all she cares about is getting to the relaxed, floaty state he was already in. 

"You're so pretty."

"You're so high." She smiles lazily and opens her eyes, handing it back to Harry. 

"Maybe, yeah," he smirks, "But I think you're a stunner regardless of how stoned I am."

Daisy shakes her head and he steps closer to her form, placing a hand on her hip. "Lemme smoke you up, sunshine," he mumbles, and she nods. They do this every time — the first time they smoked together, he found out mellow weed highs made her even more sensitive to his touch, and now, he couldn't help putting his hands all over her.

Harry takes a deep inhale of the joint, holds it, and pulls Daisy closer. Their chests are flush against one other as he fits himself between her parted legs, a hand on her hip to keep her in place. She parts her lips just enough for the smoke to form a steady stream from his mouth to hers as he exhales, sealing it with a firm kiss.

As soon as they meet, everything in her body is screaming for him. She needs to touch him, she needs to feel him, she needs to be connected to him. 

Quickly, slow kisses intertwine with undertones of want, and it's apparent that Daisy is just as needy as ever, even with mutual orgasms provided on a near-daily basis. Harry wants to tease her for it, but he's a little too far gone now, too; seeing her in the late summer night, sticky skin, a mini skirt, and a poor excuse for a lace top covering her upper body. The warm lust between them is palpable as his tongue pokes around the inside of her mouth, nipping at her bottom lip and squeezing her side with a familiar desperation. She's panting, struggling to keep up, but trying her absolute hardest not to get left in the dust. 

"Can I make you feel good, bunny?" Harry breathes into her mouth, trailing his fingertips along her midriff and dancing along the waistband of her skirt. She's ready to nod and provide consent until the big storm cloud of insecurity suddenly overtakes her thoughts, self-deprecating insults about her virginity status becoming the only thing she can focus on. 

"Dais?" Harry backs away just slightly, enough to take in her facial expression. "We don't have to do anything if you don't want to—"

Daisy refuses to have another bad thought as she cuts him off and mashes their lips together, messy and wet. Her trembling hands find the bottom of his tee shirt; a woman on a defined mission as she pulls the fabric upwards, her palms pressed against his stomach. She goes to peel the shirt off him when he breaks their kiss again, much to her dismay. 

"Hey, what gives?" Harry asks softly, leaning down a bit so they're eye level, "Not that I don't love this, but you're moving mighty quick here, sunshine girl."

She resists the urge to huff in frustration, instead letting his shirt fall back down to his hips. "I just... want you, H. You dig?"

Harry chuckles, his eyes crinkling at her attempt at casual sex talk. "Yeah, I dig, but I thought we established that ages ago." 

"Well, I wanna like... you know, pop my cherry tonight." 

His eyes widen and his hands drop from Daisy's form. He's never heard her refer to her virginity in such a crass way, even if it's the slang everyone uses. Besides the fact, he's shocked she suddenly wants to lose it at a party with nearly 30 people on the other side of the door. 

"Dais," Harry's eyebrows are furrowed in confusion, "You deserve more than just 'popping your cherry.' Are you spaced out or something?"

She shakes her head quickly, determined to get what she wants. 

"No. I wanna lose it tonight, I'm tired of being a virgin and you haven't made any moves to take it so if you don't want to, it's groovy—"

"What on earth are you on about?" Harry questions, "Why wouldn't I wanna sleep with you? I thought— well maybe I was misinterpreting things but I thought we were, like, going steady, I know I haven't asked or anything but I was preparing to. Honest."

Daisy's face warms at Harry's admittance. She blinks her eyes a few times as she processes his words, her bottom lip dropping open. "I'm... I just thought you've been with so many people, maybe you didn't want the responsibility of being with someone who... hasn't, y'know?"

Harry sighs and nods his head understandingly. Stubbing the joint out on the cool banister of the fire escape, he reaches forward to envelop her form in a tight hug. Suddenly, her senses are invaded by Harry, and she basks in the feel of his arms around her and his comforting scent. 

"I'm sorry I wasn't more upfront about what I wanted," Harry mumbles into her hair, "But I do want you to be my girl. As for the whole virginity thing... I never wanted to pressure you. You never seemed like you were in a rush to lose it, and I wanted us to build up to it, I guess. Make sure you were comfortable before we did it. But you'd be totally out of your mind to think I had no interest in doing that with you, baby."

"I wanna be your girl," Daisy murmurs before pressing a light kiss to his collarbone. "And I want you to be my first. I've never felt more comfortable with another person before." 

"Yeah?" Harry asks with a teasing smirk, ducking down to look at her, "You're my girl, then. I will be your first, but not tonight. You deserve so much more than a rendezvous at a party, silly girl."

"Shush," Daisy says, growing bashful at his words. "Soon, though?"

Harry chuckles and nods. "Yeah, sunshine. Soon."

. . .

Harry and Daisy spend the rest of the night in his bedroom, high off the joint they smoked and their newly established relationship. 

Even when Harry's tuckered out, fast asleep next to her in bed while the party simmers outside, leaving only the too-drunk and quiet trippers behind, Daisy can't believe it. She keeps replaying the conversation in her brain, amazed that he somehow likes her enough to be her boyfriend. She feels so special. 

And while his soft snores offer a comfortable rhythmic sound, it's not enough for Daisy to ignore her parched throat. Carefully, she untangles herself from the sheets and tiptoes out the door, shutting it quietly behind her. She's prepared to make a quick trek to the kitchen when she sees Willow emerge from her own bedroom, followed by a blonde girl Daisy faintly recognizes from the neighborhood. She goes to say hi, relieved that Willow may be feeling a little better, but the words get stuck in her throat when the blonde grasps at Willow's hand, spinning her to press a kiss to her lips. 

Willow doesn't notice Daisy standing there with wide eyes. She doesn't know what this implies, if Willow's gay or straight or whatever, and she doesn't care. She knows not everyone is understanding and welcoming in that way, and it pains her to think that her best friend would hide such a big secret from her, or receive hatred for the person she likes. She's seen her fair share of same sex hookups at the disco, where men or women try to be together in secret, and she's never thought too much about it. Not until right now, when she sees her smacking lips with another girl right in front of her. 

Daisy doesn't know what to say, so she doesn't say anything. Instead, she quickly turns on her heel and goes back to Harry's room, locking it quietly. With a spinning head, she doesn't even notice that he's awake and watching her, his eyes puffy with sleep. 

"Y'alright?"

She nearly jumps at the sound of the voice but forces a tight smile on her lips. She doesn't want to — no, she's refusing — to reveal this information to Harry. It's not her secret to tell, if there's anything even to it.

"Yeah. I needed a drink, I didn't know you were up."

Harry hums and stretches his arms out, propping himself up against the mess of pillows behind him. "Come back to bed?"

Her heart flutters at his request, adoring the way the words sound leaving his mouth. Without a second thought, she's climbing back into the cotton wonderland of sheets and pillows, breathing in his scent as he wraps his arms around her body, pulling her closer. 

Tangling their legs together, Daisy presses her head to his chest. She places a hand to his stomach and feels his slow breathing. They're quiet for a little bit and she assumes he's fallen back asleep until she feels his length hardening beneath her thigh. She swallows, biting her lip as she contemplates mentioning it. 

"Sorry," Harry eventually mumbles out, pressing a kiss to her hair, "Just ignore it, it'll go away on its own."

"We're not even doing anything." Daisy teases, lifting her head to press her chin into his chest. He places his hand at the back of her head and smiles. 

"You're in my shirt and a tiny little pair of panties, cuddling me, looking adorable as shit. You get me going regardless of whether or not we're doing anything."

"You like when I wear your clothes?" she presses, sitting up slightly to balance on her knees. Slowly, she splits her thighs to straddle his waist, fitting her core on his stomach.

"Of course," Harry mutters, tugging at his own hair, "You look smokin' in anything, but something about you wearing my shirts..." his fingers dance over the skin of her thigh, lifting up the worn fabric of his Peter Gabriel tee. He zeroes in on the pale pink underwear covering her modesty and he breathes out, feeling his briefs constrict his plumping cock even more. 

"And what about these?" she asks, dipping her fingers underneath the elastic waistband of her underwear. "Do you prefer me wearing them? Or do you like when you can see everything?"

"Depends. Think this little pussy is gorgeous regardless... but I especially love when you get so worked up for me that you're dripping in your panties, getting them all sticky with the sweetest little wet spot," he mumbles, thumbing over her clit through the material. "Looks so incredible, I just wanna bury my tongue in you until you can't take it anymore."

"Oh," Daisy breathes out, bucking her hips in a failed attempt for more friction between her legs. Harry smirks as her eyes begin to close. He pauses his movements and lifts his thumb to his mouth, coating it in spit before returning to his original movements, forming light circles through her underwear. 

"I bet you'd like that, hm?" He pushes, applying more pressure to the bundle of nerves, "You'd have to push me away. Can never get enough of the way you taste, especially when you start squirting... it's the hottest thing I've ever seen, bunny."

"More," Daisy whimpers, taking a shaky hand down to her lower half. She moves the strip of fabric covering her pussy to the side, revealing her plump, glistening lips. She parts them carefully, forming a V with her fingers, her pearly clit begging for attention. 

"Take 'em off," Harry instructs, breathing shallowly as he takes in the appearance of her pussy. When they first started being physical together, she was embarrassed by her pubic hair, explaining that she knew fully grown bushes were "in" but she wasn't sure what she liked. She was nervous about it and wanted to please Harry, who simply encouraged her to experiment with different styles and find whatever made her feel the best. It was 1976 after all, and he was exhausted by anti-feminist rhetoric that would ever make his girl feel bad. 

Lately, Daisy settled for a trimmed bush above her lips. It looked manicured and neat, and she discovered both her and Harry loved having enough hair there for him to tug on when he was going down on her. He hadn't yet told her that he was also obsessed with the way her juices stuck around, making her even wetter. 

Once Daisy strips her modesty of her underwear, anything's fair game. Harry uses one of hands to firmly grab her ass as he situates her over his brief-covered cock, making her stomach twist with nerves. 

"Not gonna put it in, sunshine," he mumbles, his length twitching at the sight of her pussy spread open over his underwear, "Just wanna grind with you a little, alright? Make us both feel really good."

Daisy nods eagerly, rolling her hips against his. She whimpers at the sensation that offers a semblance of the friction she'd been desperately searching for. He pulls his cock out of his briefs and pushes it between her lips, making them both groan out.

"There you go," Harry encourages as he gently bucks upwards to meet her motions, shifting his cock against her clit, "Show me you deserve to cum on my cock. Show me how much you want me to fuck this tight little pussy."

Daisy lets her head lull to the side, her eyes squeezed shut at his dirty words. They always get her impossibly close to coming, feeling as if the pleasure-filled feelings are finally going to bubble over and spill. 

They're moving in sync with one another, her hands flat on his chest, moaning at their closeness. It feels so good, and she wants to tell him to slip his cock in, to fill her up and fuck her until she can't remember her own name, but she knows he won't; instead uttering something about it not being the right moment. 

"Shit, I'm close," Daisy mumbles out through swollen lips. Her right hand is moving to her pussy to rub her clit in small circles and Harry's jaw falls slack as he watches her. He gives her hip a squeeze and folds his legs at the knee, pushing her down to her tummy so their chest to chest. 

"Know my dirty girl needs a bit more to cum, hm?" The question is rhetorical but she nods helplessly anyway, shuttering beneath his grasp. He trails daft fingers to her backside and grabs one of her ass cheeks so her tighter hole is exposed. She groans into his skin but he removes his hand, giving her butt a firm slap. 

"Shush, sweetness." Harry instructs, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Before Daisy has a chance to whine, he's back to circling the tight rim of muscles, reaching downward to collect some of her dripping arousal from her inner thighs. Daisy can barely focus on all of the different sensations, and once he presses the tip of his thumb into her ass, she's a goner. 

"Fuck, Harry—" she moans as her holes pulsate, her asshole squeezing Harry's finger. 

"Jesus fucking Christ," he mutters, using his other hand to grip her hip, keeping her firmly in place. Seeing and listening to Daisy cum is enough to get him there — his own personal wet dream, he swears — and it's only a few moments after her orgasm has passed that he's spitting out a heavy load from his cock, covering their bellies with his warm cum. 

Simultaneously, their bodies come to a stop, and the only sound is their choppy breathing. Gently, he pulls his finger out of her, giving her thigh a small squeeze. He feels that she's slowly starting to go lax, and he wants to clean her up before they go back to sleep. 

"Up, sunshine," Harry mumbles against the shell of her ear, "Need to get you clean."

Daisy nods, slowly rising from his chest. She glances down to see the mess they've made and bites her lip, feeling the familiar stirring in her core again. 

"And you call me insatiable," Harry snickers, making her roll her eyes. She climbs off of him with sore thighs and he gets up, grabbing a dirty tee shirt to clean them up. 

She's quiet and missing the usual glow she has post-orgasm, making his stomach twist slightly. "Everything alright?" He asks, moving the soft fabric between her legs to wipe up her arousal. 

Daisy hums, though it's not much of an answer. The second they reached their peaks, images of Willow kissing that girl re-entered her brain. She feels shitty for using Harry as a distraction from what was bothering her to begin with. 

"Was... were you comfortable with all that?" Harry presses, and it's only then that it dawns on her that he thinks he's the problem. With wide eyes she nods her head, grabbing her — his — tee-shirt from earlier, sliding it over her body. 

"It was amazing, H," Daisy answers, crawling on her knees to reach where he's standing over the bed. She shuffles forward and presses a kiss to his lips, wishing that she could tell him what she saw. "Let's get some more rest. Please?"

And Harry can hardly deny her, especially when she looks so tired and fucked out. He pulls on a clean pair of briefs and climbs back into the bed, taking his position as the big spoon. His body wraps effortlessly around hers, like two puzzle pieces begging to be clicked together. 

"Night, Dais." He mumbles, pecking her shoulder. 

"G'night, Harry."

Part three | Series masterlist

#harry #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles fan fic #fanfic #harrys house #harry styles writing #harry styles concept

[goingmerryfics]

I have this crazy thought in my head for a while sorry 👀😁 would you write sth. where Reader catches Law and Zoro masturbating? 😏 They're so embarrassed and in panic that they get clumsy and maybe trap their cocks in the zipper of their pants.

Caught masturbating w/ Zoro & Law

Content: GN reader, NSFW so MDNI or you will be blocked and I don’t wanna do that it’s too much work :(!!

Notes* This is my first NSFW requested prompt so congrats on that! Also it made me laugh when I read this so double props to you.

Zoro

The ship isn’t the most private place for alone time

So whenever Zoro feels the itch, he’ll wait for everyone to head to bed, to scratch it while he’s up in the crow’s nest so he won’t be interrupted

It’s hard to catch Zoro off guard at any time, but when he’s focused on his pleasure the world around him send to cease to exist

The cold nights make it a little more difficult to pull this off

You'd think he'd have more self-discipline

He only pulls his pants down by his thighs- just enough to pull his cock free 

He’s already half hard and leaking from having to wait all day for this

He pauses, looking around over the edge of the crow’s nest to make sure no one is around

Spits in his hand and slowly starts to jerk himself off, squeezing the tip

He sighs in relief and his head tilts back as he slips into relaxation

Meanwhile, you’re finishing up on your reading for the day. Robin had let you borrow one of her storybooks and you’d gotten hooked, and reading before bed was supposed to be good for you so says Chopper

But now you’re about ready for bed

You leave it bookmarked on the table to return to tomorrow

You step out of the kitchen/dining area cabin and shiver- you forgot how cold it gets at night

You look up towards the crow’s nest. You can see the familiar green of Zoro’s head, and you make a bet to yourself that he’s asleep on the job

You both can’t blame him and you also are just slightly annoyed. On one hand, you have also fallen asleep on nightwatch before, so you can’t blame him. On the other, the guy naps all damn day so you’d think he would be able to stay up for a few hours

He reminds you of a cat sometimes

You smirk to yourself, taking it upon yourself to teach him a lesson about sleeping on the job, and start climbing

Zoro doesn’t hear you coming on account of he’s trying to do that at the moment

He’s not paying attention to how loud he’s being- his full attention is on the frantic tug of his cock as he feels the pressure in his gut building up

You don’t hear his soft breaths either

You pop up, screaming for Zoro to wake up and realize too late what you’ve just invited yourself into

Zoro screams, you scream, and then Zoro screams again as he tried to shove his cock back into hiding and catches the sensitive skin on the zipper of his pants

You swear you killed him for a second as he doubles over, forehead hitting the floor of the crow’s nest and hands flying between his legs as he groans in pain

“Why…?”

You can feel your face burning. You want to reach out and help, but you just got a full view of his dick and you’re still trying to process that

All you can say is an apology as the rest of the crew starts to emerge to investigate the screaming

Law

Law didn't really indulge in his own pleasure very often

He doesn’t have a very high libido and not many things turn him on to the point where he feels he can’t function without taking care of the problem

But every now and then he tries to set aside some time alone

Whether that’s used for reading, relaxing, or self care

As a doctor, he obviously knows the health benefits of masturbation and he uses that to combat the slight internal turmoil he feels over the entire act

It’s not so much that he feels guilty for indulging, it’s that he knows there’s other important shit he could be doing with his life and maybe jerking off shouldn’t be his top priority right now??

Too late, he’s already made it clear to the crew not to bother him today unless for emergencies

And even then, he’s pretty sure he locked the door when he came in

Law is a patient man when it comes to this kind of self-love

He undresses from the waist down and lies down

He takes his time feeling himself up, one hand sliding under his shirt and lightly pinching his nipples between his his fingertips

His eyes slide shut and he lets out his first, soft moan

He takes himself into his grip and teases himself by pumping his shaft in slow, full strokes

When he catches himself moaning just a little too loudly, he reaches his other hand up to cover his mouth

Meanwhile, you, Penguin, & Shachi are all crowded around the crew’s quarters, trying to figure out where the hell this stag beetle came from

You hadn’t surfaced in ages and when you did, it was on a winter island. So how the hell did this bug get here?

The three of you had the amazing idea to follow it around and try to find it’s home, but Shachi suddenly perked up with an idea

He proposes you all bother Law, as this could be an emergency. What if this was in fact, not a Stag beetle and instead was some parasite ridden, disease carrying bug?

That being said, he picks it up with ungloved hands

The three of you make a run for the Captain’s Quarters as Shachi chases you down with the potentially disease ridden beetle

You and Penguin barge in first, screaming incoherently about the beetle

Law realizes he did not lock the door and scrambles to cover himself with the blanket under him

But he loses grip on the blanket while it’s tangled around his legs and actually ends up punching himself in the dick

Shachi bursts in after that, holding up the beetle and also screaming

Law hunches over, both to cover himself and to try to deal with the pain

This all happens in less than 10 seconds, so there’s about 10 more of just silence as the gravity of it all sinks in

Penguin breaks the silence, asking why your captain is half naked

The look Law gives you three trumps anything you might’ve thought to say to him, and you turn on your heels to leave

He uses his devil fruit to kick you three out anyway

It’s just him and the beetle now

#one piece #harleywritesop #hwop #trafalgar d law x reader #law x reader #op law #law one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar op #trafalgar one piece #roronoa zoro #op zoro #ronoroa zoro #zoro roronoa #one piece zoro #pirate hunter zoro #zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader

[tizeline]

I'm guessing that after season finale, Leo sneaking out to see Donnie is in secret. Is there a moment where Leo's other brothers find out? Do they feel betrayed, or do they assume it's part of Leo's master plan to have Donnie switch over?

Is there moments Leo stays the night at the lair cuz of tensions at home, or just because he wants to hang out with Donnie more?

Love your AU!!

Okay so here's the thing. Before the season one finale, Leo would always worry so much about living up to expectations, about what his family would think of him. This led to him keeping many secrets, his interest in Lou Jitsu plus human media and pop-culture in general, his frequenting NYC and Run Of The Mill, all of that he would spend years keeping closely hidden from his father and brothers. Then later he'd also have to hide his tense but slowly improving relationship with Donnie and his doubts about Draxum's world domination plan. When the season one finale happens and Leo teams up with Donnie, the cover is blown and essentially all of those closely guarded secrets are exposed.

So after that, Leo is done with secrets, he's tired of putting on an act all the time. His family already knows that he's befriended Donnie at this point, and not in the way they wanted. They know that he interacts with human society, and so what? Instead of hiding this part of himself, Leo does the opposite and brags about it, shoving in their face. Basically any time Leo leaves to go hang out with Donnie he will let everyone know and then teleport away in front of their faces lol. (Jokes on Leo, he is still very much putting on an act, this time it's just an act of indifference. He is very much bothered by the tension between him and his family, especially between him and his dad, but he doesn't want to admit to anyone else or himself that that's the case)

But Leo does absolutely sometimes stay overnight at Donnie's place, both as an act of rebellion but also because Draxum's displeasure with Leo really gets to him and he just doesn't wanna deal with that sometimes.

Both Draxum and Mikey are, uh, a bit salty over the whole Dark Armor fiasco, including Leo's kinda-sorta-not-really-but-also-technically-betrayal. So they have a pretty pissy attitude during this part of the story XD and Leo running yelling about HOW MUCH FUN he's having with HIS TWIN BROTHER and also how Leo was TOTALLY RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING just makes them more annoyed (and they're not even twins??? where did leo get that idea from, what is he on about???).

Meanwhile, Raph does agree with Leo when it comes the fact that destroying humanity is not a very cool thing to do, but he still doesn't exactly vibe with humans. Needless to say, he's a bit conflicted about everything which causes him to usually get caught in the middle of Leo's and Draxum + Mikey's beef where he's stuck trying to play mediator. He's not super happy with Leo running off on his own all the time to hang out with Donnie considering it means interacting with April and Splinter, which he still doesn't trust. It's not until Raph starts tagging along (partly to make sure Splinter isn't gonna kidnap Leo too haha) that he starts agreeing more with Leo's stance on things and realizes that April and Splinter are pretty cool actually.

#Tiz Sep AU #tizel talk #tmnt #rottmnt

[tiyoin]

Does Rook ever just "watch" twisted anxiety reader ?? I feel like he just enjoys the reactions that comes out of the reader.

the moment rook noticed reader slow down during PE was when he got a new target🤭

(rook is gonna get introduced very soon!)

it was enviable becoming rook's next watch target. silly reader! did you really think you'd be safe from people's watchful eyes in the sanctuary of ramshackle? your room?

non non non!

ofc rook loves to watch yuu. he finds them as beautiful as a stem of grass. how they go whichever way the wind takes them with gusto and elegance. how no matter how violently the wind whips them around they'll always be surrounded, always be supported by their fellow blades of grass. winter may be hard, like the obstacles they face! they may get stepped on, trampled and abused. but they'll always stand tall no matter what the cruelness of winter throttles at them. and when the spring rolls around, there's more blades of grass this time. they all get stronger and stronger, forever nonyielding to any adversities.

as much as they were a fortress, they were also a home. insects and bugs alike call grassy plains home. what may seem like meters to us could be miles for them. the grass are smaller trees, rook would joke in French whenever he got the chance.

overbold after overbold, rook was more surprised than the last at their perseverance, just like that of a single blade of grass.

and yet, you were something else entirely.

you were a donkey.

non non non!! that is something you should be ashamed of!

donkeys are de toute beauté creatures! (rook is actually more offended than you were when you got upset he compared you to a donkey)

listen dear y/n! donkeys are peaceful creatures that do not need your narrow mindedness around them. they're doing their best and that's more than anyone else can do.

would you rather be friends with a show horse or a donkey?

if you say show horse rook can see why. they're beautiful, elegant, majestic creatures compared to the latter. they're the models of the mammal species.

and yet, show horses are vain, egoistical divas who are known to kick and prank their trainers. quite literally bite the hand that feeds them.

yes you feel good being around it, but when push comes to shove, they care more about their manes than yours.

donkeys, to others, may be less physically appealing than the mighty knights stead, and yet by live stock handlers are much more beloved.

donkeys, albeit enthused creatures, are sensitive, kind, are known to make incredibly strong bonds. they're loyal creatures, once befriending a donkey you have a friend for life. where you walk they walk, when you cry they cry.

donkey's do not have manes so they do not care for them.

donkeys are very social animals, it is strongly advised of rhyme to not be solo as they become incredibly distressed and depressed when not in the company of their loved ones.

and dear reader, he must call you a donkey because have you SEEN your-

*rook is thrown in horny jail*

but rook is definitely one to appreciate the hidden gems of the world. and with his (and vil's) help he could make you shine! hiding uncut gems is an addictive feeling, but being able to shape and mend those rocks into crystals- that's what rook loves.

he wants everyone else to see the beauty that is you the beauty that you keep locked away in a hidden tower inside your heart. thick vines and unkept underbrush scatter along the walls of stone, titanium, and glass guard your tower.

rook will do what he must to get that box inside the tower, under the bed. he will do whatever it takes to open that box and show the world it's contents.

so why don't you join him for lunch? dear y/n.

and if the world turns it away he'll happily nuzzle it. as you always say: more for me!

uh, but to answer the question: yes. rook does watch twisted anxiety reader. it's apart of his schedule. he especially loves their unpredictability.

you have a class today, will you make it? or will you skip it again? if you skip it, then that's okay!

there's a few times where you've made him pause to think. but there were other times you were so painfully predictable. so painfully predictable that he felt perverted when he guessed the time you were gonna go to the library. only to see you walk in through the heavy oak doors not a second too late nor early.

and oh my god he loves watching reader's reactions. this mf would keep a track sheet 😭

would you continue playing the role of l'agneau, or would you let your fangs peek through your wooly disguise in hopes that the others wouldn't realize.

rook (and admittedly a few others) want to put you under a microscope.

poor reader would never leave ramshackle again if they found out! it works out for rook that the reader thinks they're unremarkable, it really does. cause it keeps them 'grounded' and in their own little buule! so he doesn't have to worry about any outside forces or them thinking a little too hard about their shadow.

#twisted anxiety 🌀 #rook is a freak #rook hunt beauty's no. 1 defender has to roll up his sleeves for this challenge #rook might actually be in love? idk but he feel in love while watching you be yourself behind closed blinds #can you tell my adhd got the better of me😔 #rook hunt jade leech and trey clover are all the same breed of freak #trey just grew up more normal but dont let the specs fool you #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #vil x reader #rook x reader #rook hunt x reader #tiyoin’s cuties 。 ඞ 。