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sixosix · 5 months

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and his voice is a familiar sound | scaramouche

forced proximity + childhood friends reuniting, humor, kissing and tension. suggestive implications and suggestive humor, a bit of scara’s mommy issues, wc 5k

ft. a down bad jealous bf scaramouche, bffs heizou and kazuha, and aether bc aether always has to be there

“If I ask you to come with us for a vacation, would you say yes?”

Your bedroom was already too cramped for one person, with what you could afford with your money after quitting your part-time job. It made it incredibly difficult for all parties involved when you invited someone over, especially when that person had no concept of personal space. You barely looked up from the pages of your book, humming halfheartedly to whatever Heizou is saying. You heard vacation and instantly decided to not waste your time.

Heizou must have sensed these thoughts, too, because he forces himself into your field of view by nearly climbing over your lap. “Hey, look at me. Would you say yes?”

“Heizou!” you hissed, pushing him off before Heizou could wrinkle the pages of the book that’s definitely overdue for borrowing time. You started to think about taking another part-time job if your friends kept inviting themselves over and invading your personal space.

Heizou looked at you, his face doing a complicated combination of a frown and a smug grin. “Come on. You never join us on trips…”

“For good reason,” you said, gesturing to the lapful of Heizou you are currently getting bombarded with.

“You’re so mean,” Heizou laughed, thankfully getting off your lap. He refused to let go of you, however, immediately wrapping an arm over your shoulder and pressing up against your side. This must be one of his techniques to make the people he was questioning feel restricted. It was working. “How will you get yourself to settle for a nice, young man with that attitude? What are you even reading?”

“I grabbed whatever book had a pleasing cover so I can tune your nonsense out.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

“What?” Heizou clapped the book shut and turned to you with the eyes of a reprimanding mother. “I swear I’m being serious. Can’t you consider it for even a minute? You’re breaking my heart. Plus, Kazuha’s the one who’s inviting us out.”

Hmm. What a compelling argument. Heizou knew that no one could ever say no to Kazuha. You wouldn’t really care if your absence would break Heizou’s heart, but Kazuha’s disappointed eyes were enough to put a god to their knees.

You zeroed in on Heizou’s wording. “Who’s ‘us’?”

Heizou started listing each with a raise of a finger. “Just Kazuha and Aether—and a friend we met recently. Kazuha invited him.”

You frowned. You didn’t know Aether visited again. “How the hell did Aether get invited?” Then, upon careful reflection: “And who’s the new friend?”

“If he was around, why not, right?” Heizou laughed, carefully setting the overdue book aside from your view. “The new friend’s Scaramouche. Have you met him before?”

What a strange name. Kazuha always managed to befriend people from all over, like a child bringing home turtles and a new species of bugs. You made a note to look him up. “Never heard of him.”

He hummed. “Said he came from Sumeru but he looked pretty Inazuman to me. Funny guy. He’s like a disgruntled baby brother.”

“And you only met him, what, recently? Why is he invited to our group already?” you asked, like the territorial person you are. How come it seemed like you were the last to know about this guy?

Aether was alright. Aether came back every few months to check up on everyone and got roped into all kinds of things with your friends, so you knew him well enough already. You liked his long braid. Heizou and Kazuha had been your friends for as long as you could remember being a college student.

Heizou grinned, patting your head. “Scaramouche’s nice, I promise. You wouldn’t even notice he’s there.”

At your dubious stare, Heizou amended, “C’mon, do you think I’m the type to befriend an asshole?”

Yes, but Heizou wasn’t the type to befriend a major asshole whose opinions he vehemently disagreed with, and he thought belonged better in jail, so you had to think about it for a bit. At the very least, this new guy didn’t seem like a criminal.

Your friends loved traveling, with Kazuha mostly being the culprit, but you liked staying inside most of the time. They never forced you to go with them, so why was Heizou being suspiciously persistent today?

“I think he’s your type,” Heizou finally said, caving in.

“You’re trying to hook me up with him?”

“Not exactly… but you two would seem cute.” He went silent for a thoughtful moment. “I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed if you slept together.”

You made a face.

Heizou laughed brightly. “Alright, alright. You can go back to being the good poster student you are if you promise to think about it. Seriously. Kazuha’s moving to Liyue soon—he’s probably inviting us out because of that.”

“I’ll think about it,” you said, reaching around for your book.

You would. What Heizou said about Kazuha made you remember that there are only a few weeks left until this is all over—then, after that, you all might go your separate ways. That thought floated around your mind for a little while as Heizou made himself comfortable on your bed, sighing before he dozed off.

You sighed, shuffling to give him space. “If this is your way of trying to make me get laid, try to at least be subtle and not weird me out before I even meet the guy.”

You stalked Kazuha’s Insta to search up this Scaramouche guy and nearly dropped your phone.

scaramouche11206. It was empty, entirely useless for your research. Scaramouche’s profile was a public account, had zero posts, and had four people he was following. It was Kazuha, Aether, Heizou, and a Vahumana Darshan update page.

You checked the tagged posts, and your jaw dropped to the ground.

Scaramouche was Kunikuzushi.

Heizou was taking a group selfie in the image, his tongue stuck out and winking while the camera showed two other men. On the left was Kazuha, with his ever-polite smile, then on the other, with the all-black getup was what the tags said was scaramouche11206.

It was a little difficult to tell why you were enamoured with the masked face with a short hime cut for a moment, but the piercing stare to the camera couldn’t be mistaken. It was a minute of staring before it clicked. This was your Kunikuzushi.

You dialed Heizou before you could even think about it.

“What…? It’s five a.m.” He sounded like he just woke up, “What’s up?”

You swiped back to the image of Scaramouche, as if staring at it any longer would imprint each pixel to your brain and bring him to life before you. “Hey, where’s Kazuha? Tell him I’m going.”

YEARS AGO.

Summer. The cicadas rang in your ears. They chirped about as you and Kunikuzushi trudged further into the forest. Sunlight peeked through the leaves, splashing Kunikuzushi’s beautiful face in a delicate glow.

Komorebi. Shadows scattered on the ground. Kunikuzushi lifted his head and turned to you. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

His voice was quiet, but even with the wind and the singing cicadas, you could hear him loud and clear. You could pick out his voice from a crowd. Your heart would know where to find him.

“I like looking at you,” you said. “I like you.”

He accepted the answer and continued walking. You beamed. Usually, Kunikuzushi would scoff and bat your words away, hiding his flustered face. But he didn’t.

Longing. Kunikuzushi turned back to you, stopping in his steps. You nearly bumped onto his back. “Do you like me enough to marry me?”

Was this a marriage proposal? You tried to think of you and Kunikuzushi, walking down aisles and reciting vows, and almost laughed. But then you tried to think of anyone else. You tried to think of a life without Kunikuzushi.

You thought of Kunikuzushi with anyone else and nearly threw up in his face. “You’re the only one for me.”

“Even if I hurt you?”

You frowned. “You would never hurt me, Kuni.”

Kunikuzushi’s expression crumpled. He could never hide anything from you; he was too expressive, eyes round and lip trembling. Your heart sunk to your stomach. You reached for his hands and forced him to look at you. “Kuni, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

He looked at the ground. “I said I didn’t want to live with her anymore. I didn’t really think Mom would make Aunt Nahida take me.”

The cicadas faded. The world fell into a hush. Your grip on his hands grew weak. “What?”

Kunikuzushi didn’t have a good relationship with his mother; you knew that. They were complicated. They always fought and he grew up to loathe her. You knew that. But you didn’t think…

You breathed in deeply. It was not Kunikuzushi’s fault. It was not Ei’s—and definitely not Nahida’s fault. It was just the way things go sometimes.

You forced a laugh, hoping to ease the troubled expression on his face. “Were you proposing because you’re moving away?”

Kunikuzushi blushed. “Shut up.”

Your face softened. He was always so cute when his face was as red as the red by his eyes.

Kunikuzushi inhaled sharply, taking your hands and looking at you with a determined glint in his eyes. “If I were going to ask you out, I would do it better than anyone who would try to marry you. So don’t entertain them.”

The trip’s plan was basically swimming when you could, staying at a hotel, driving out of the hotel to eat somewhere cheaper, and it would be stretched out for a few days. All in all, it didn’t sound too bad. With the type of people you were going out with, you were expecting a lot more drinking (Kazuha) and near-death-related activities (Aether). Although Heizou said it was Kazuha’s trip, he was apparently mistaken.

“It was originally for Scaramouche and his family, but his mother had last-minute changes and couldn’t go,” Kazuha explained as he helped you fit your luggage in the trunk of Aether’s car. “Scaramouche said it would be a waste and told me to invite my friends.”

“Woo-hoo, Scaramouche’s mom!” Heizou cheered.

“When we met her, it seemed like you hated her,” Kazuha mused as Heizou climbed inside the car. You were in the passenger seat while the two were shoved in the back. It seemed that even if you moved to a bigger apartment, you’d end up suffocated by Inazuman men either way.

“Hard not to after hearing Scara’s contempt for her. I’m an empath or something.”

Aether adjusted the side mirrors. “Are we forgetting anything?”

“Where’s the Scaramouche guy?” you asked.

Heizou cast you a sly smile. “He’s already at the hotel, probably buying us other rooms.”

At least another thing about him hadn’t changed: he’s still disgustingly rich. You did some digging about the hotel, and it was the kind of place you could only dream of even looking at. You suddenly felt severely underdressed for a five-star hotel, with only sweatpants, a duffle bag, and a dream.

“Hmm, I don’t think so,” Kazuha said, and weirdly enough, you caught him looking at you curiously from the sideview mirror.

“No?” Heizou crossed his arms behind his head. “I doubt Scaramouche’s the type to willingly share a room with anyone.”

Aether scoffed, laughing under his breath. “Definitely not with us.”

You looked outside to hide a smile. It seemed that your Kunikuzushi hadn’t really changed drastically. This made you feel better about meeting him again.

“What made you change your mind?” Heizou asked.

You sighed and fell into step along with him as Kazuha and Aether went on ahead. There are families crowding the lobby, draped in gold that matched the fabric of the chandeliers overhead. Their jewelry was brighter than your future. Even the floor smelled expensive.

“Scaramouche did,” you mumbled.

Heizou’s brows lifted to his hairline. “Oh?”

“I mean—I don’t know, I’m not sure yet.” You were absolutely sure, but it’d be embarrassing if he didn’t recognize you at all, and Heizou would think you were just lying. It had been years.

Heizou tilted his head. “Well, whatever it is, I’m rooting for you. And if he fucks up, I know how to pack a punch.”

You didn’t doubt it. Heizou definitely knew how to pack a punch.

The hotel was so fancy and so meant for only rich kids that you and Heizou stood out like sore thumbs by looking around. Some woman your age walked past, her chin high and her steps light. You and Heizou looked at each other, then tried to mimic the same grace as you pair sashayed towards the desk.

“What are you idiots doing?” Aether asked as you reached them.

“Fitting in, unlike you,” Heizou said.

A new voice cut in. “Took you losers long enough.”

Scaramouche turned around after speaking to the clerk, his mouth in a thin line and his stare piercing. He also stood out next to the men in polo with his fingerless gloves and gold rings. He looked like he belonged better on an Inazuman fashion magazine cover than on a hotel vacation with a bunch of losers.

Heizou beamed. “Scara!”

“Hey,” Scaramouche said, then his eyes landed on you.

It was hard to tell if there was any reaction on his face because Heizou went up to him to ruffle his hair, stealing away his attention.

“Thanks for inviting us out. I didn’t know you were the type to want to snuggle with his friends.” Heizou waggled his eyebrows as Scaramouche pushed him away with a hand to Heizou’s face.

Scaramouche wrinkled his nose. “I am not sharing a room with any of you three. You snore, Kazuha snores louder, and I would wake up to Aether’s leg on my stomach the next morning.”

“That was one time,” Aether muttered, blushing.

“How many rooms are reserved?” Kazuha asked.

Scaramouche sighed, craning his neck. He had a really nice side profile. “Still two. The other one with a king and the other with two queens. I was supposed to have the first, but you didn’t tell me you were inviting someone else. This shithole’s booked full now.”

Your gaze fluttered away as they all turned to you. You bit your lip, frowning. Did Scaramouche not recognize you? He was acting like he didn’t. He was treating you like he would any stranger. That upset you, but for the entire car ride, you were also preparing for it. It probably would’ve hurt worse if you hadn’t mentally prepared yourself.

Heizou grinned, slinging an arm over Scaramouche’s shoulder. “I suppose you have no choice but to share a bed with us.”

“No.” Scaramouche picked up his luggage and started rolling away. “Heizou, Kazuha, Aether, you share the king.”

The three men turned to you instead, surprise visible in their expressions. It was exactly because Scaramouche decided to share a room with you, whom he never acknowledged since you arrived.

You wanted to protest. If Scaramouche didn’t recognize you and opted for a choice that didn’t involve sharing a room with anyone, you’d rather sleep on the floor in Kazuha and the others’ room. But Scaramouche was already stepping inside the elevator and was holding the door for you.

You held your gaze to the floor the entire time as Scaramouche pointed at a room and told the three they would sleep there. Scaramouche flashed the card against the door of your room, then stepped inside.

“This one’s ours,” Scaramouche said. You couldn’t detect any hint of emotion.

The room was bigger than the two rooms at your apartment. It had two beds, as Scaramouche said, and a TV across. The room was cold as fuck. You shuddered, and Scaramouche remained unbothered with his layers of clothes that probably cost more than you.

As Scaramouche set his luggage on the bed closest to the window, you gathered the courage to not make this trip any more awkward.

You breathed in deeply. “I’m Y/N—”

“I haven’t forgotten.” He arched an eyebrow as he sat on the edge of his bed, staring at you. “Have you forgotten about me?”

“No, no, of course not,” you said. “I could never forget you, Kunikuzushi.”

You stiffened, thinking it was a mistake and there must’ve been a reason he was called by another name, but you took a look at him and got distracted. His face relaxed when you said his name.

I could never forget you. It was sickeningly true. You can never forget about Kunikuzushi. He was your first love. He was so cute with his wide eyes; and he was very clingy, too, which made him all the more endearing.

But looking at the present Kunikuzushi, with his intense stare and permanently bored expression, he was hot, and you started to think that maybe your type was just Kunikuzushi.

Horror settled in your stomach as Scaramouche flashed a wicked grin.

“Then you wouldn’t mind sleeping with me, would you?”

“He said what?” Heizou cackled, hitting the wall as he threw his head back, laughing.

Scaramouche meant it as sleeping in the same room, but he could have— no, should have worded it better. Scaramouche laid down on his bed right after and went on his phone as if he didn’t say anything at all. You blurted some half-baked excuse and left the room to cry about it in your friends’ room.

When Scaramouche said their room was assigned a king bed, you didn’t expect it to fit five people—and Scaramouche said he wanted it for himself? The bed was incredibly big, almost in a lonely way. You have never seen an Alaskan king bed before, but now, sitting on the edge of it, felt as if you could fit your entire apartment on it.

Kazuha was in between Heizou and Aether, their backs resting on the headboard. They were about to sleep, too, but as soon as you burst in, they settled into position and listened intently. Except Aether, kind of; he was texting his sister, who was demanding a room tour.

“I never thought he would be this bold. I mean, demanding to share a room the moment he laid his eyes on you? Wow,” Heizou said, looking terribly criminal with his expression.

“It is surprising,” Kazuha mused. “I’ve witnessed how women flock to his feet and how he bat them all off like he never saw them.”

An unpleasant feeling washed over, which was weird because why would you be upset? Of course they’d flock to him—with a face like that. He had the looks and the personality that would garner him a lot of masochistic fans if he were a character in a drama.

“Does that happen a lot?” The way you spat it out spelled exactly how upset you are.

“No need to get so jealous, now. After that display, I’m positive that he wants as much as you want him,” Heizou laughed, falling forward and resting his elbows on the mattress. He moved his chin to his palm. He looked like he was going to ask if you wanted to paint nails and curl hairs the next second.

Your face felt hot. What was this conversation? You’d much prefer painting nails than talking about this. “I don’t want him!”

Heizou arched an eyebrow. “No?”

Even Kazuha looked doubtful, which was enough of a blow.

“I’m just confused,” you insisted. “You know what happens when you’re in a room alone with an objectively attractive guy? You get confused.”

“I get it,” Aether said, setting his phone aside to share his insight. “This is your sexual awakening.”

“What? No!”

“It definitely is,” Heizou agreed. “Why else are you crying about this to us?”

There was a sense of impending doom at realizing that Heizou was brewing some horrible, horrible thoughts in that head of his. “To stop feeding into my madness!”

Heizou clicked his tongue. “How do you think he feels? His childhood best friend came back to his life looking like that—I’m surprised he hasn't eaten you right up yet.”

You didn’t know what was more horrifying: Heizou implying he thought you were hot, or him implying that he thought Scaramouche thought you were hot.

Your face must’ve looked like a constipated mix between flustered and horrified; Kazuha chimed in to tell Heizou, “You should be more careful with your words. I’ve never met anyone as possessive as Scaramouche.”

“It’s already a miracle he even remembers me. He wouldn’t get jealous. I doubt he actually wants me that way,” you sighed.

“Oh, but you want him that way?” Heizou asked.

You wanted to slap that expression off Heizou’s face. “Of course I do. He was so cute when we were little—I already liked him then. I didn’t think he’d grow up to be so…”

“Sexual awakening,” Aether said again.

“Ow,” Aether whined when you hit him square on the head.

Reluctantly, you returned to your room. Heizou, Kazuha, and Aether told you to get your shit together and face this not-sexual-awakening like a man. Kazuha didn’t say it, but you could feel that he was also thinking it. And if he ever said it out loud, you’d tell him to go fuck off to Liyue already.

Scaramouche was awake. The door clicked shut, and you faintly felt like those heroines locking themselves up in a room to hook up with someone who they didn’t think was the murderer on the front page right now.

“Where did you go?” he asked.

You tried not to let your surprise show, but Scaramouche was staring so intently that you would’ve failed miserably either way. “The other room.”

The longer you looked at him, the more you realized that Kunikuzushi felt like a fever dream. Being only a few feet away from the guy you used to be so fond of, now grown and had an air of haughtiness that would’ve been a turn-off had it been anyone else— it was doing things to you.

“Are you scared of me?”

You laughed and nearly choked on it when registering that Scaramouche was still looking. It wasn’t something like embarrassment. It was more like laughing unabashedly and then sensing that your hallway crush walked past. Maybe it was a bit of embarrassment.

“No. No, I’m not scared.” You moved to sit on your bed, eyes trained on the wall. “You didn’t tell me you were back.”

“You changed your number. You moved out.”

“Oh.” You did do that. Your apartment was very far from your home.

“And I figured you forgot about me or wanted to forget about me because of what I did to you.”

“Oh.” You wanted to say that he didn’t affect you that much. Life goes on; you meet new people and lose them every day, and all that. But Scaramouche was affecting you that much, especially when he’s only a few feet away from you, looking like he wanted you to pounce him.

Scaramouche grinned lopsidedly. “But I guess I don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

What the hell does that mean? Your heart skipped a beat. Did he figure it out? Were you that obvious with your thoughts about pouncing?

Scaramouche stood up from his bed, moving towards yours slowly. “Are you seeing anyone right now?”

You tried to avoid getting too close by leaning back, but he kept drawing his face closer, bending towards you. You’re one last tilt away from him pinning you down on the bed.

“No,” you blurted before you could even think about it. It was a little difficult to think about anyone else when you were a breath away from kissing. “Why?”

Scaramouche’s eyes narrowed, electric indigo. “Do you still have a crush on me?”

“You’re asking too many questions.”

“We’re catching up. This is how it works, doesn’t it?”

No, it was definitely not how this worked. Your neck was starting to ache with this awkward angle, and he hadn’t even answered your question.

“Do you?” he repeated, hovering above you.

You gave up on the painful angle and laid flat on the bed, frowning up at him. You crossed your arms to achieve the stance of someone who will not back down easily. “How are you so sure I even had a crush on you?”

“You’re telling me I’m wrong?”

What was this? Some fucked up game of 21 questions, but Scaramouche was too high and mighty to follow the rules? You didn’t know what to say to that. You wisely decided to stay silent, glaring up at him.

You probably didn’t look intimidating at all. Scaramouche smiled, much less sharper. Almost fond as his eyes flicked down to somewhere below your nose. “Am I still the only one for you?”

Okay. You would back down easily if he kept looking at you like that.

“You didn’t hurt me, Kuni.” You sighed. “You never could.”

Scaramouche straightened, his face carefully blank. It was much harder to read him like this. You sat up, wanting to ask if it was the wrong thing to say. You couldn’t get the words out because he lunged for a kiss.

You might have gasped. You might have made some embarrassing noise while a laugh rumbled from the back of Scaramouche’s throat. But that was all thrown out the window the moment your eyes fluttered shut and you lost yourself in the sensation of his warm mouth on yours.

He pushed closer, and you were pulled back on the mattress, his arms on either side of your head. Your eyes flew open when Scaramouche nipped at your lip. As if suddenly remembering where and who you were, you forced his chest back and gaped.

“What?” He looked irritated you interrupted him.

“At least say it back!”

“You didn’t even say it,” Scaramouche said, one eyebrow raised.

“I like you, Kunikuzushi.”

Scaramouche turned red and then looked humbled that you saw it. “I still like you, too.”

You looked at him up and down. You asked, but you didn’t want to hear the answer. “And you didn’t have anyone while you were in Sumeru?”

“Of course not,” Scaramouche scoffed. “You think anyone there was worth my time? You think I’d settle for less than you?” He scowled. “How about you? Nevermind, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. I’d do it better than any of them.”

You laughed, tugging him close with your arms around his neck. If anyone were to come in, they would assume the worst. Then again, maybe Scaramouche had plans to indulge in the worst.

wake up! let’s eat breakfast at the restaurant we saw yesterday!

ask scaramouche. so he can pay for us

Despite the freedom and space of lying on separate queen beds, you and Scaramouche were huddled and pressed close. And despite books in your bag, you were occupied with huddling and pressing close against Scaramouche. You were lying on his chest while he had an arm resting on your stomach.

As soon as Heizou’s texts appeared on the top banner of your screen, you looked up, and Scaramouche looked like he was going to murder someone.

“It’s a joke, probably,” you said. “They don’t see you as a wallet.”

“It’s not a joke,” Scaramouche said. “I don’t really care about that. You and Heizou close?”

“He’s the one who introduced me to Kazuha and the others.” You sat up from the comfortable position and stretched.

“So you’re close.”

“Oh, very much so.” Then you laughed at Scaramouche’s thunderous expression. “Idiot. Why are you jealous? He’s not the one I’m sharing a room with and was making out with last night.”

Scaramouche’s gaze cut down to your neck. He looked extremely pleased.

You and Scaramouche took the elevator down, holding hands throughout. You felt a little giddy. What must this look like to everyone else? They’d all assume you were out with your boyfriend. As you reached your friends, Aether had just started the car. Kazuha slipped into the passenger seat, and Heizou waved at the both of you.

Then Heizou gasped. Aether turned to you and gasped as well.

“What happened to you? You look like you were mauled by a tiger,” Aether asked, scandalized.

“If the tiger had a short hime cut and a thick wallet, maybe,” Heizou mused. You flipped him off and climbed inside the car. Heizou laughed and sat beside you.

Aether frowned. “What kind of tiger would that be?”

You groaned, burying your face in your palms and wishing that lightning would strike you down. You needed coffee. Or a beer. Maybe if you bat your eyelashes and kissed him on the lips, Scaramouche would buy you bottles of wine.

As if summoned by your thoughts, a figure forced himself in between you and Heizou. Scaramouche worked fast. He glared at Heizou and tugged you away from him.

Heizou’s eyes went wide. “What’d I do?”

“Know your place, Shikanoin,” Scaramouche said. You just wanted to at least not be half-sitting on his lap, but he was proving a point and didn’t let you budge.

Kazuha smiled. “I warned you, Heizou.”

“Damn,” Heizou said. He looked exhausted. He was the one who suggested you and Scaramouche hook up in the first place—did he not expect his intuition to be right this time? “Didn’t take you for the clingy type. Two more days of this?”

“This is not some fling,” Scaramouche hissed. “You think I don’t take this seriously?”

You smiled as your heart fluttered. Scaramouche could be so unintentionally sweet sometimes, not that you’d tell it to his face, because he would grumble and hide his face. You rather liked his face. It was pretty, and you knew that if you tugged his hood down, you’d see a bruise on his neck as well.

“Didn’t take him for a romantic as well,” Kazuha said, thoroughly entertained.

“Wait, are you actually a thing now?” Aether made a face. “What the hell happened in that room?”

Scaramouche smirked. “You sure you wanna know?”

a/n it was already so hard for me to not turn it into a heizou fic dude. That entire first part was so unnecessary i was just hopelessly infatuated. BUT ANYWAY!!1 thank you so much for reading i hope u liked it <3 if u do, leave a comment or a reblog so i can see your thoughts :DD

also, another note: on the day i wrote this fic the insta acc of scara didnt exist. so if it does by the time youve read this fic, its pure coincidence and i have nothing to do w it. or maybe i did, because i came up w the name HAHA

#genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x you #genshin impact x you #wanderer x you #genshin x reader #genshin drabble #wanderer fluff #genshin impact #kunikuzushi x you

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ghoastixx · 3 months

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Alastor w/ teenage human reader

A.N: gender neutral reader. You insert your name at ‘____’

Warnings: abusive parents mentioned, Alastor being a bit intimidating for a while, this is very self indulgent so yeah!

Goodness…how did the radio demon stoop so low as to be collecting human souls? Honestly what a pity..

To be honest Alastor didn’t even really know what had happened. One moment he had been drinking some tea on the balcony of the hotel, enjoying some absolutely dreary sights, and then he just.. wasn’t-

It caught him off guard to say the least. His ear laid back as his claws gripped his mic tightly. His smile never faltering.

“Holy fuck it worked!” A voice rang out, sounding astonished and a bit..too alive. Alastor’s eyes drifted down a little bit to see a child. …are you serious. He had been summoned by a child. How humiliating.

‘_____’ looked up at the demon. They had to admit, they were a lot more terrified than they would’ve liked to of been. The two just sort of looked at each other for a while before the child spoke up. Getting off of their kneeling position.

“Are you..the radio demon?” Their voice was meek and curious. It was intriguing that a child was able to do all of this. Alastor’s smile hitched up his face,

“Why yes I am! I’m assuming you’re the human that summoned me.” His smile widened when the kid tensed at his static-y voice. The radio filter never letting him down.

“W-well yeah.” They stuttered, showing vulnerability. That was going to be their first mistake. “I-“ now they were stammering, “I didn’t think it would work- honestly. I was just trying to humor myself.” Alastor was starting to get pissy, he had more important things to do than talk to a human that didn’t even know what they were doing.

“You summon a very powerful demon for fun?” His voice sounded rough, that static becoming more prominent as he got angrier.

“Well- I didn’t really think about this. This stuff doesn’t happen! I- I read a lot and of course there was that rumor going around on how to actually summon one and I just-“ the kids rambling was interrupted by a yell from downstairs. The kid winced at a thud that followed shortly after and the sound of a female voice filled with rage. The sound was almost too familiar to the radio demon.

“There wasn’t anything you wanted? Nothing at all?” He asked impatiently. When the kid sheepishly shook their head he got ready to go back to hell, but then he heard another thump which got him thinking. Why waste a trip? Perhaps there was a deal to be made here. “Say kid, why don’t we make a deal?”

“A deal..? Isn’t it frowned upon to make deals with demons? There’s like..so many songs about that.” The kid was smart, Alastor didn’t like that.

“Nonsense! I’m looking out for your best interest, little fawn. I think you’re very smart, I want to show that. If you give me your soul, let me take care of it, find me human souls, I will make sure that you do not rot in this silly little town. These people around you will not weigh you down.”

It seemed Alastor hit the nail on the head when he saw the consideration in the kids eyes. I mean- of course! A small kid who is summoning demons? In a small town? Arguing parents? Why wouldn’t they want out! And it seemed Alastor was right too, when the kid looked at the smiling demon and tensed.

“Okay. It’s a deal.”

The first time Alastor came back up to visit the soul he learned was ‘____’ he was quite impressed by the work they had done. The kid explained the type of people that would definitely be going to hell, all for the demon’s delicious picking. The first visit was strictly business.

It was the second meeting that became more personal.

‘_____’ looked up from the book they were reading, the music that they had playing softly from their radio turning staticy. They had been trying to drown out the sound of the constant screaming and whining.

“Is that a radio?” A loud static voice made ‘____’ jump. Obviously they hadn’t been expecting dear Alastor, who laughed heartily at the sudden jump.

“Damn it- scared the piss out of me-“ the fawn mumbled. Alastor thought they were like a fawn at least. Skiddish and soft. Curious. He thought it was a good comparison.

“I do apologize my dear! But please do answer, I thought radio went out of style in this day of age.”

“Well, it’s certainly not as common anymore, but it hasn’t gone completely out of style. Records have made a bigger comeback than radio.”

“How curious,” Alastor hummed, the sound of it immediately grabbing the fawn’s attention. It humored him how easily he could get the focus on him. A bang was heard on the wall with an incoherent yell, the only eligible word being “SHUT THE FUCK UP.”

‘_____’ shifted uncomfortably. It was obvious that they were trying to lose themselves in the radio. Alastor was starting to really like the little fawn, so he considered something.

Suddenly green fumes embedded themselves into the radio, making a static sound. The fawn looked up curiously,

“What did you do to my radio.”

“Patience, you’ll be able to tune into my broadcasts now. It’s only fair.”

The kid simply nodded. And they would listen to it. Because when Alastor decided to visit again for his souls, the kid would tell him it was quite morbid, but they liked the song selection.

This continued for a good while, the little fawn would tell Al about the new age for humans and Alastor would help distant the kid from their parents. If anything it boosted his ego, he felt like more of a stable figure for this kid than their own parents. And that would be put to the test when Alastor popped in only to see the little fawn curled up on the corner of their bed, so upset.

His ears flattened as his smile was forced. He couldn’t stand to see his little fawn so upset. He wasn’t sure when it became his little fawn instead of the little fawn, but he liked it better. It felt more appropriate.

“Now now, little fawn. I’m here, it’s alright.” He tried his best to console the little one.

Perhaps it was time to renegotiate their deal. Perhaps he could form this kid into a better version of themselves.

Now all he had to do was figure out how to get this kid into hell.

#fanfic #fanfiction #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #platonic Alastor x reader

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mommybard · 9 months

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What's the matter sweetie~? Didn't you realize what I meant when I called you mommy's personal cumdump?

Oh darling~

Let me guess. You convinced yourself that it was just a heat of the moment thing. Something to throw out there as dirty talk in the middle of play to help the mood. A throw away comment or a degrading petname for you. Or maybe you thought it was just for that load of cum. And after that we'd go back to normal~

Bless your heart hun

I meant it when I said it. When I claimed you as mine. You're my cumdump. My fucktoy to hold and take every drop of cum my balls produce so it doesn't get wasted on my hand, or a fleshlight, just to end up wiped away by a tissue. Why would I even bother with that nonsense when I have you, ready to get filled.

And it doesn't matter what you're doing at the time sweetie. Or even where we are. You belong to me. Your body belongs to me. Your holes, they belong to me. I will use them every time I get even a bit hard and dump another load of cum inside you. What hole depends entirely on your behavior and mood, but I'm not a cruel mommy. I'll make sure each of them get used plenty~

Speaking of which sweetie, show me just what a good little cumdump you are and get on your knees for me. Just thinking about you stuffed full got my cock twitching~

#nsft post

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ludwigplayingthetrombone · 11 months

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Had to split the last chapter into 2 separate ones bc i got a bit overzealous with this one... so here’s chapter 3! may be a longer bit before 4′s ready, but Enjoy! [tw: blood, mentions of suicidal thoughts/ death/ survivors guilt]

Ch1 Ch2

Tsunade: Enter. Kks: Mornin’. Tsunade: Kakashi. I got your message. So, Gai made it out of the coma, huh. I’ll go see how his condition is when I’m done here. Kks: I’m sure he’ll love that, but that’s not why I’m here. Tsunade: Are you looking for work? I can assign you-. Kks: More of a discussion. About the hokage thing.

Tsunade: Are you finallt giving me an answer? Kks: Yup. I’m saying no. I’m not interested. However, if there is truly no one else, I have a compromise if you’re interested.

Tsunade:It’d better be a good deal, brat. The council won’t be happy with this. You were about to accept months ago. Why say no now? Kks: Alot’s changed since then.

Gai: Papa

[gai sighs] [window sliding]

Kks: Yo. Gai: Rival!! Happy to see you! Kks: I see you’ve had visitors

Gai: Yes! I am so lucky and moved! Especially from our students! Kks: How are you feeling? Gai: Sore. Stiff. But much better than this morning. [kks hums] Kks: Sorry I took so long. Got caught up. Gai: Nonsense! I was honored to wake up to see both of your beautiful eyes first thing. You look so youthful! You left in such a hurry, you left your shoes. Kks: Yeah, had a soggy walk to my apartment. Can’t return those slippers now. Gai: How are /you/ feeling?

Gai: You seemed so overwhelmed and I couldn’t move. I feel like i’ve missed so much. Kks: I’m ok now. Just needed some air. Plus, sorted some things I’d been neglecting. I knew you’d be flooded with visitors. So, I stayed out of the way. Gai: Pretty cool response per usual. Kks: I think you’re pretty cool

Kks: How long are you stuck here? Did they say? Gai: A few weeks. Most of it depends on the physical therapy progress. My chakra network is fried. It’ll be slow to heal if at all. They’ve never treated my condition before, so the doctors are not sure what’ll happen

Kks: Did Tenten tell you about her plans? Kankuro even offered his experience building a prosthetic. Gai: Yes. She was very excited. Kks: /You/ don’t seem as enthused. What’s bugging you? you’re usually delighted by your team’s passion or whatever. Gai: I am truly touched because I know she’ll give it her all, but...

Gai: It won’t make a difference. Kks: What did the doctor say? Gai: Even if I can stand or walk, I’ll have lasting damage and pain. I’ll need a wheelchair the rest of my life. My time as an active duty shinobi is done.

Kks: You’ll get through this. Gai: What am I going to do, ‘Kashi? Kks: You’re stubborn enough. I’m sure you’ll find a way to prove them wrong. Like walking on your hands or something. You’ll be a menace in a wheelchair in no- Gai: I do not want you or my students burdened by my injury

Kks: That’s what you’re worried about? You think mourning you would have been any easier on anyone? You’re more to them than just a teacher. If you could have Dai back right now, wouldn’t you want that? Gai: Of course I would. Kks: Then see it from their perspectives. Don’t just lie down and accept this is how your life ends. That’s not how Dai raised you.

Kks: This is terrifying to deal with, Gai, It’s ok to feel overwhelmed. But please don’t give up. I won’t let you. Gai: I was prepared to die Kks: ...I’ve understood wanting to be dead for a long time. I get it. Gai: I do not regretn my decision at all. Regardless, I’ve hurt you the most. I know you’re angry.

Kks: I won’t lie to you. I am angry. Extremely. But I’ve wasted so much time pushing you away already. I don’t want to waste anymore time we have left. The only consistent thing in my life has always been you. I’ve said horrible things to you, and you never abandoned me. I think all the time about how I would have turned out if you didn’t keep me human. Self sacrifice seems to be something we have in common. Neither of us were meant to be without the other apparently... We’ve both been brought back from death. So maybe it’s...

Baby gai: You’re my eternal rival... My man of- Kks: Destiny

Kks: Strongesttaijutsu master who ever lived. My eternal rival. My man of destiny. I’m so happy you’re alive

[gai crying]

[Gai sobbing/crying]

#kakagai #gaikaka #Kakashi Hatake #Maito Gai #might guy #naruto #everyone p much lmao #my art #//blood #//mentions of suicidal thoughts

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dilatorywriting · 7 months

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Oh, 4k? Hold up then, looks like you dropped this 👑👑👑

CONGRATS TO YOU, ONE OF THE BEST WRITERS HERE!! If I could partake in the event, I'd love something with Riddle and prompt 17; love my short red angry king and alice in wonderland in its entirety tbh. If the Reader could be a bit of a rule breaker too and have known Riddle since childhood that'd be awesome as well. Again tho CONGRATULATIONS!! HOPE NOTHING BUT THE GOOD STUFF FOR YOU!

Gender Neutral Reader x Riddle Rosehearts Word Count: 2.3k

Prompt 17: "I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do."

[EVENT MASTERLIST]

You were annoying.

At least, that was the kindest way his mother described it. And Riddle would have to agree. Always hanging over his shoulder like some overeager parrot and rattling off nonsense into his ear just as loudly. He was hardly allowed out to the park—mother said his studies were far too important, and even as a child Riddle certainly agreed. Mostly, at least. Enough to never argue—but when he did get time to sit out in the sun under the shade of the grand, painted trees, you were always there.

A bother, a nuisance. Sticky fingered with the remnants of swiped tarts and chattering on, and on, and on.

“I tried to follow a rabbit,” you said, rolling around in the dirt like a heathen. Weren’t you worried your parents would scold you for mucking up the smooth, blue fabric of your jacket? “But it ran too fast and I fell. Do you think I could catch it with a net, maybe?”

“Hopped,” Riddle correctly, stiffly. “Rabbits hop.”

“Well this one ran,” you argued back. “Faster than a car. Faster than a cheetah.”

“Cars are faster than cheetahs,” he said, turning to the next page of his book. “So grammatically you should have put that part second.”

You flopped back onto your stomach and pulled yourself to your knees, before scuttling behind his back and peering over his shoulder.

“How can you pay attention to a book with no pictures in it?”

He hunched up his shoulders and you dropped your chin down with a bonk. Refusing to budge.

“Some of us don’t have the attention span of goldfish,” he sneered, turning his nose up at you.

“Well, if I could only think as much as a goldfish, I wouldn’t want to waste it on that,” you snipped back. “Doing homework in a park. What are you, a robot?”

“I’m efficient!” he snapped. “Mother says I shouldn’t waste time on frivolities.” On things like you, he doesn’t say. A part of him wants to. The part that sounds like biting words and a sharp, firm voice demanding he get to bed by 7pm unless he wants to rot his brain. Another part is… is worried that you might not like that. And then you’d just get even more annoying.

You reached around and snagged the textbook out of his hands with an audible ‘yoink!’ and immediately ran off at full speed. Which is never fair! Because you’re used to climbing up trees, and sprinting through mud, and scaling boulders like a wild beast. And Riddle is—Riddle isn’t! He would never! So it takes him an age to catch up to you. By the time he does, he’s huffing, and puffing, and as red as his hair.

“Don’t do that!” he snapped, livid. “Ever again!”

“Alright,” you shrugged, a loose grin on your mouth as you returned your pilfered treasure. You’ve barely even broken a sweat. “I won’t bother you during homework, Riddle.”

Which is… That’s certainly what he wanted Of course it was. But it made something in his stomach drop nonetheless. Probably because you’d just find new ways to be irritating. Yes. That’s certainly why.

The first time he felt it was on his twelfth birthday.

He’d tried so hard. And he’d done so well. His exams had all come back with perfect scores, his projects and papers immaculately graded. He’d been going to bed on time every night, combing his hair exactly how his mother liked, even folding his clothes into perfectly pressed little squares. She’d seen it in one of her cleanliness magazines and had lamented how nice the style looked for something so tedious. But Riddle had learned. And now his closet looked as tidy as a militia.

“Can I go? Trey’s whole family will be there. And it’s just dinner. Fully monitored!” he reassured, fighting the urge to twist his hands behind his back. “Please?”

“Of course not,” his mother droned, not even looking up from her laptop. “You’ve been doing well, but we don’t want you slipping up, now do we?”

“But—” he started, and her eyes cut up to him like daggers. A warning. “…of course, mother.”

“Good boy,” she smiled, with that smile that was never really a smile. “Now go up to your room. You can have an extra half hour of free time today,” she said, like it was something worth celebrating. “For my special birthday boy.”

Riddle had sat in his bed wishing he’d never known what a birthday was at all. And then there was a tapping at his window.

He opened it in shock, to see you hanging off the edge like a particularly determined cockroach. Which was—! No! It wasn’t safe! And you were going to get him in trouble, and—

But instead of opening that stupid, fat mouth of yours and letting of your siren call of a laugh—summoning every sensible adult in a five-mile radius to come checking for delinquents—you simply swung around a bit to reach back into your jacket pocket. Riddle almost lurched forward when he saw your fingers scrabble a bit along the ledge. Ready to fall. But then you righted yourself and gently deposited a little, paper-wrapped parcel atop of the smooth surface.

And then you shot him a wink and disappeared from view, no doubt scuttling back down the siding like the demon you were.

He approached it hesitantly, like one would an active bomb. He carefully peeled back the sticky tape and smoothed out the edges of the sloppily wrapped package. Inside was a small, round strawberry tart. Freshly baked, by the smell of it. And the waft of warm, soft steam curling up from the flaking crust. With a little note tucked beside it in your chicken scratch. A lopsided smiley face doodled at the corner, beaming up at a hastily scrawled ‘Happy Birthday, Riddle!’

He took a small bite of the little, perfect treat and his eyes burned. Something in his chest gave a worrying thump-thump.

‘Oh my god,’ he thought in a panic. ‘The idiot poisoned me.’

But aside from the horribly loud ticking of his heart, nothing else seemed to go awry. He ate the rest of the tart in silence, feeling lightheaded and far too warm. He wondered if maybe his mother was right about sugar and myocardial infarction after all.

Riddle didn’t see much of you the next few years. His mother doubled down on his study times, and he wasn’t even allowed to spend time with someone as responsible as Trey anymore. Let alone the person his parent had deemed ‘a menace upon polite society.’ The next time he saw you—really saw you. Not just your hurried waves from across the street or the trace ends of your bubbling laugh from around a corner—was when the Royal Sword Academy’s students had descended upon Night Raven for the VDC.

You were chattering away with Che’nya, the pair of you looking equally as mused and ridiculous. All splashes of raucous color and uniforms so out of place that one would hardly be able tell what institution you were meant to be a part of at all. For a moment he thought you’d walk right past. It’d been years, after all. And certainly you’d moved on to bothering some new stick in the mud.

But then you saw him and your eyes lit up. His chest gave another of those terrible thump-thumps.

“Riddle!” you all but screamed. And launched yourself at him like a feral cat. “How are you! Your hair is so neat! Did you grow out your bangs? Oh! Look at your cape! So cool! Did you know that we don’t get capes? I think that’s a crime. Especially with how yours looks,” you rambled on. And despite that lingering thread of him that demanded that you must be annoying, because that’s what you were. Loud, and uncouth, and everything he’d been raised to not be. The rest of him was… Warm. And happy, to hear the familiar chatter back in his ear.

He scoffed, hoping it would cover the noise of his pounding heart. “No one in their right mind would trust you with a cape. You’d get caught on every door in existence.”

“Oh, that’s fair,” you agreed on a nod. “But surely a top hat, at least?”

And then you were back in his life like you’d never left to begin with. Or, well, like he’d never left you.

Showing up at Unbirthday Parties with the tackiest serving plates and even worse outfits. Telling him all about the rabbit you finally managed to catch, and how it does run, Riddle. I swear. Bringing him trinkets you’d found in small shops that had no practical purpose to speak of. Breaking every rule in the Queen’s Book and smacking yourself on the forehead each time he shouted a stern reminder. You even bought a little notepad to jot down his instructions. But all it ended up being good for was an ever growing pile of doodles and little, folded, origami animals that he’d find tucked all around his room like secrets.

And amidst all of this, that thumping, bumping pressure in his chest just kept getting worse.

It was a warm day, not unlike the one all those years ago where you’d plunked yourself on his shoulder and stolen the textbook right out of his hands. Now you had your own book to read, some monstrosity on analyzing ravens and writing desks, with your head precariously close to his lap but not there. He didn’t even know why that bothered him.

“This book is too complicated,” you complained. And Riddle fought the urge to point out you were holding it upside down. “Both have quills. Is that so hard to understand?”

“That makes no sense,” he argued back.

“Of course it does,” you said, perfectly pleasant and sure of yourself. “But you know everything, so you really ought to know that too.”

He snorted. “I do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do not.”

“What’s fifteen times thirty-four.”

“That’s not knowing. That’s just math,” he argued. “And it’s five-hundred and ten.”

“See,” you poked. “I knew you’d know it.” You rolled over to stretch out on your stomach—reaching forward to twist a long blade of grass between your fingers. “You always know what to do.”

Something in his stomach turned unpleasantly at that. Had he known what to do when he’d cowed to his mother’s commands and cut you from his life? Had he known best when he’d turned away from your warm greetings and friendly overtures to hide away behind the unsurmountable walls of expectation? Worse over, did you think that he thought all those things were… for the best? That he’d wanted to push you aside like all your cheerful banter and sweet attempts to brighten his dull, miserable life had been worth nothing.

“That’s not true,” he finally said, stilted and near whisper quiet.

You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked at him with a curious tilt of the head.

“Of course it is,” you blinked, guileless and genuine. Smiling up at him from your place in the grass with that familiar, twisty little grin on your mouth and a brightness in your eyes that never seemed to dim.

“It’s not,” he said, a bit firmer. And his gaze flickered off away from yours. “I think I’m in love with you, and I don’t know what to do about it at all.”

Riddle wasn’t sure what he was expecting. Silence, maybe. The horrible, awkward, biting sort that ate away at his soul like a rat gnawing through his bones. Maybe you’d laugh at him, in that bubbling, carefree way of yours, and tell him that you thought one of those rules of his was never to lie on a Thursday afternoon. That would hurt worse than the silence, he thought.

But instead you just rolled back over with a flick of your wrist, like you were gossiping about the weather.

“Then love me,” you said, simple. “I love you. It only seems fair.”

“…oh,” he spluttered, face lighting up crimson and warm.

You hummed, as if in agreement. But to what he wasn’t sure. You looked him over for a minute, like you were searching for something. And then you reached for his sweaty hand with your own and twined your fingers there in the grass.

“If everything always made sense, nothing would be what it is because everything would be what it isn't,” you said, like that was supposed to make any sense at all. “And contrariwise, what it is, it wouldn't be, and what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?"

“What on earth are you on about?” he gaped.

You burst into delighted giggles and tucked your nose against his hip. “Silly, silly. Stop trying to analyze everything, yes? It will only make things more confusing.”

You sighed and stretched, a contented smile on your lips. You reached up to tap a finger against his nose.

“Things don’t always have to make sense. That’s what makes it fun. And, well, if you’re really that determined to be able to figure out how things are supposed to go, we can do that later, yes?”

“…Right,” he managed to eek out after a long moment. Feeling far too light and far too… too something. “Later. There will be a later.”

And as much as that would have felt like a lie all those years ago—had been a lie even—when he said it now you looked up at him like he’d hung the stars in the sky. And he couldn’t help but hope for all the tomorrows in the world.

#4k Event #twisted wonderland imagines #twst x reader #Riddle Rosehearts x Reader #Riddle x Reader #Riddle Rosehearts #My Writing #Writing Prompts

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tarantado-si-viann · 11 months

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The Elves Reacting To Their S/O Wearing Their Clothes^^

Pronouns: You mostly so it's GN^^

A/n: So, hello! I'm new here on tumblr and I just thought that a nice, maybe warm, headcannon ( is that how you spell it? ) would do good for a first start.,. I'm sorry in advanced if there are spellings that are needed to correct! Also, I was lowbat at the moment so I could only do three huhu. But either way, please enjoy<3

P.S- if you liked this one, do me a favor and reblog, won't you?

LEGOLAS•°`~

• "And what's this I see?"

• Although Legolas didn't mind lending his clothes to other people, you may be the first to amuse him in this state.

• There you were dressed in his casual, green, elven shirt with his double sized elven pants on you.

• "Why, hello there! I don't believe we've met...?" he smirks, rubbing his nose as he circles around you in curiosity. You giggled at his pretending and you played along.

• "Y'know, I haven't seen such a handsome ellon like yourself," you state and punch his arm gently. "You are?"

• For a moment, Legolas doesn't know what to say. In fact, he paces around, brewing the correct words until they lingered on the edge of his tongue.

• "The love of your life."

• You were shocked with his sudden answer and felt a trickling heat that crept onto your face in a flustered blush. You stumbled back while hovering your right palm unto your dusted cheeks in embarassment. Legolas chuckled and pulled you close into his arms.

• "Oh, melleth nin, I adore you so. However, I was truly surprised to see you in my own garmets. What made you think of this adorable nonsense?"

• "I didn't think I'd come up to this as well. You know me, full of surprises. Wait... are you perhaps cross?"

• Legolas kissed your forehead and rubbed circles on your back.

• No, Legolas wasn't cross. He was delighted by this incident that he even offered you to borrow more of his clothes next time. Why would he be cross with the person he loved the most?

• "I am not cross, my love. I am very happy and this just gave me an idea! Why don't we do this together? You wear my clothes again and I'll wear yours. Are you up? We could go surprise everyone here in Mirkwood!"

• A fond smile painted on your lips as you nodded in agreement. "Sure thing."

THRANDUIL•°`~

• "Y/n!" A needy voice echoed down the halls calling your name.

• "Huh?" you flinch on your spot, hurriedly placing king Thranduil's belongings back to where they exactly were minutes ago.

• Although you may had messed up... too much. Why, you didn't even know where to begin.

• "Where do these hangers go? How about the robes, oh! And the brushes as well!" you thought while your hands quickly picked up everything you saw. Hot damn!

• The footsteps grew louder and louder until they finally stopped at Thranduil's room. He was annoyed, no joke.

• The door carefully opened, revealing you caught in the headlights.

• "Y—"

• What were those? WHAT WERE THOSE ON YOU? WAS THAT HIS RED ROBE AND RINGS ON YOUR FINGERS?

• Thranduil was speechless. Unlike his son, he wasn't too keen on lending his spare clothes. But this, this would have to been an exception.

• His irritation disappeared like a bubble in an instant. "Uh... I'm sorry..." you sighed and began to remove everything you had a hard time putting on. What was truly the waste was the small, leaf branch circlet thingy that took you hours to prepare.

• However, Thranduil stopped you, a shy look on his face.

• "N-no... please... ke-keep them... I mean, well, uh... I—"

• You laughed nervously. "Wait what?" He looked so sincere, so that had your mind twisted in confusion and at the same time, gave you a hard time comprehending what he just said, not to mention his stuttering.

• "No... keep them, please. As long as you're happy, my dear."

• You blinked a few times before a happy grin etched on your face. It was a sight to see for Thranduil.

• He walked closer to you and fixed the stray hairs on your face, tucking them under your ears. He hummed in satisfaction before placing a quick kiss on your lips. He then turned back to the door when he didn't notice you followed his heels. "What?" he asked you in the least of annoyance.

• You shook your head and wrapped your left arm around his right one. Giving in, he dare let you roam inside the halls with his vibes radiating off of you.

• But wait...

• Where's the circlet thing????

ELROND•°`~

A/n: oof, that's my father figure^^

" Dear, Y/n! Please slow down!" Lindir called from behind you, dragging his heavy clothes along as his panting grew louder and louder across the halls.

You didn't pay mind to him as you continued to jog towards the council meeting, to which you could already see outside the door.

Lindir, who was too tired to chase after you, leaped into the air, catching you off guard, and grasped the end of your long robes. His body hit hard on the floor which made you shriek in guilt.

"Oh, Lindir! Are you hurt? Where does it hurt??" you worriedly call as you helped him sit up. The ellon wore an irritated expression on his usual bright face which made chills slither down your spine. You knew this wasn't normal, and to Lindir… well…

ENOUGH WAS ENOUGH.

"Y/n! Calm down at once! My lord Elrond will not be pleased when he finds out that you have fitted once more into his fine robes! Not even the mere 'fun' I'd expect from someone as superior as you. Yet, you've decided to do it again, I mean, LOOK AT YOU!!"

This wasn't the kind of critique you had expected from your best friend. Nonetheless, it offended you when you realized you had offended him as well. This poor elf was now injured for your sake. He just didn't want you to be judged and judged so rudely. No, not like the last time you imitated Lord Elrond's attire at one feast. Damn elves.

"I'm sorry, mellon. I'd be careful next time. But… I don't want to take these off yet! Can't we make most of the hard work?" you pleaded, pulling the puppy eyes that seemed to get everyone and literally EVERYONE all of the time.

"Screw this. Be free, Y/n. You are big and old enough to make decisions of your own." he spits with concealed amusement in his tone. To this, you smile, help him stand and leave him alone in the hallways.

"Make Elrond love you hard!" you kept in mind.

The council consisted of several elves including the Sindarin, Legolas, and Elrond who was seated at the edge of the circle of chairs. Gandalf was on one side and a dwarf at the other edge. The rest was occupied by more elves, a hobbit, and two humans, leaving you a rather intentional saved spot beside the Lord of Imladris.

Everyone's eyes laid on you. You had imitated every part of Elrond— his hair, clothes, shoes, and a hand made ringlet that matched his own.

Elrond raised a brow at you, but you could tell that he was delighted with… you. "Ah, well someone's tardy today. Where have you been and what have you been up to?" he asks slyly with a smirk on his face.

"I certainly had brewed some sort of mess back in your chambers. Tut! Well, that's nothing to worry about now, meleth. We should begin this instance!" you smile cheekily, patting his arm, head resting on his shoulder. You had made yourself too comfortable before a meeting. How would you be able to focus now?

"We'll discuss this 'brewed mess' after today's meeting. For now, we will figure out ways to destroy the ring."

•°`~~~~~~♪

This was so dumb.

Feel free to request!

No tags at the moment^^

#lotr #lotr x y/n #lotr x reader #legolas #legolas x reader #lotr fanfic #lotr fandom #thranduil #the hobbit #lord of the rings x reader #thranduil x reader #imladris #rivendell #lord elrond #oh shit

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kairiscorner · 10 months

Text

when grump meets grump <3

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

miguel x grumpy reader

now if there was anyone else feared upon in the spider society that wasn't named 'miguel o'hara', it was you. the moment you joined the spider society, everyone had a new face to fear.

every day was a challenge for the rest of the spider society, even jess and peter b couldn't go to your quarters without knocking and stating their name and business for coming there. if they wasted your time with an easy picking mission, or a bad joke, or at worst... a childish prank, they'd be squishes spiders in the next minute–or make that in the next five seconds.

you were serious about your job, no nonsense was allowed on your watch. you reminded everyone of a certain leader who was very particular with how things were run at HQ, and how fun was virtually dead when he was doing things his way.

but surprisingly...

"i hate him." you seethed as you clenched your fists, your eyebrows were furrowed as you scrunched up your nose, gritting your teeth. peter b spit out his coffee all over the table by accident, jess fetching a few napkins to clean it up.

"you... you hate miguel?" peter b asked, exasperated and... bewildered, if anything else. you nodded, slowly, as your eye twitched just the slightest at the mention of that damned man's name.

"he thinks he's the shit. honestly, what's wrong with him? why does he make everything about him? you've seen how he plans out the missions, he always delivers the finishing blow. he never lets anyone else do the work, it's always him, him, him!" you exclaim as you got up and threw the table down out of rage.

peter b yelped as jess grabbed him and brought the both of them to the side. they were... extremely surprised you didn't see eye-to-eye with miguel. they always believed that if they weren't miguel's closest allies, you'd be. but no. your rage and hatred for miguel subverted their expectations.

"so glad i never let them hold mayday..." peter b murmured. "well be glad if they don't hear you right no–" jess was telling him, until you turned your head with a scowl at them. "i could hear everything you two were saying, y'know." you warned them, which was their cue to leave.

you cooled down after a few hours, beating anomalies without anyone else holding you down or telling you what to do always hit the spot. but soon, the dreaded hour came.

a holographic image of miguel appeared on your watch, you tried your hardest not to look angry nor disgusted at the sight of him, even when masked. "report back to my office at HQ, we got a situation here." he said curtly, and before you could even ask what was so important that he had to call you, he hung up immediately.

you sighed and groaned in frustration as you opened up a portal to head back to HQ. the moment you stepped back into HQ, you were in miguel's office. you crossed your arms over your chest and raised an eyebrow.

"talk to me." you said in a monotonous voice as miguel turned around to look at you, confused. "why're you here?" he asked. you looked at him in disbelief. "o'hara, don't fuck with me. you called me earlier, dumbass." you reminded him, getting a little pissed off at him playing dumb.

miguel looked at you now in disbelief, turning around fully to face you as his platform slowly descended. you tapped your foot impatiently like a cartoon character. "last time i checked, you weren't from earth-8311. what's got you so impatient over nothing?" he asked in a tired voice.

you groaned. "you. you called me? jeez, i thought you of all people would know it's not hilarious to waste another person's valuable time with such stupid, insipid little pranks!" you exclaimed, angry, and a little embarrassed because miguel really did seem like he didn't know what you were talking about. could you have been wrong, for once in your life?

miguel put a hand up to stop your fuming self from framing him from any more allegations of him summoning you to his office. "i didn't call anyone, i was out fighting more variants of the vulture with jess and a new recruit. i didn't call for anyone else, except... dammit." miguel breathed out as he put a hand to his side and pinched the bridge of his nose with furrowed eyebrows.

"lyla!" miguel called for the ai assistant in an irritated voice. lyla showed up a little disheveled, she soon refreshed herself and came back looking more presentable. "what?" she asked as she looked at miguel, who looked at her a little... desperately.

"did you... did you call them?" miguel was asking lyla in a hushed voice, almost as if he did not want you to hear what they were talking about even if it concerned you.

lyla looked at miguel, then at you, then back at miguel, then back at you, then she smiled. she shrugged. "i did." she said in a cheeky, unenergetic voice.

miguel rubbed both of his temples and shut his eyes when lyla admitted she called you. you pit your hands on your hips and raises an eyebrow, still unsure of what was going on.

"but why?" miguel asked in a slightly nervous tone. "you know never to call their line unless... it's absolutely necessary." he reminded lyla, who laughed a little at that.

"i was just doing what you told me to do, test out your automated answering system for video calls. it was arbitrary, just so happened to call them with an automated response. no biggie." she said with a smile and a shrug as miguel looked like he was about to combust out of frustration towards her.

"so what is it? why'd you call?" you asked in an expectant voice, looking at miguel who tried to appear brave, but instead, appeared remorseful.

"i... i didn't call you here." he admitted, looking at you then back away. "lyla was testing out the beta stages of a project i have, um, it was an arbitrary choice, really, just so happened to call you by accident and didn't get to tell you it was a beta test. i'm sorry, for wasting your time and energy for coming here." he apologized.

your eyes widened as you looked at him. "you... apologized?" you asked with a tone of surprise. "you, miguel o'hara, apologized to me?" you asked incredulously as lyla was taking videos of this moment.

miguel put his hands to his hips, hung his head, and nodded. "yeah." he said with a click of his tongue as he looked back up at you. "i'm sorry." he said, and though it was hard to distinguish it from sarcasm or sincerity, miguel really was being sincere with his apology for wasting your time.

you stared at him, you refused to believe he was being honest. "and why would you apologize? i thought everyone here was expected to bow down to you, mr. o'hara." you asked, putting up your cold front.

"well... if you must know, um..." miguel stuttered, trying to find the right words, when lyla finally spoke up on his behalf. "your badassness scares him shitless. he hates having to piss you off because he wants to keep living." she said, and as miguel lunged forward to shut her up, lyla moved from one side of his to the other. "that, and he thinks you're super hot, so there. toodles." she said as she logged off as miguel was going to lunge at her again. he cussed under his breath as you took in what lyla said.

"is it true?" you asked him, your tone softening. he turned around to face you, and looked at you with a nervous expression. "do i... scare you?" you ask miguel as you approached him. he loomed over you, but you always found ways to subdue your opponents–miguel never wanted you to see him as one. in fact, he wanted you to look at him as the complete opposite, really.

"um... yes." he admitted, looking down at the ground. "but, you also find me attractive?" you ask, which sends a warmth through miguel's cheeks. "i... i kinda do." he mutters as he looks away from you.

you put a hand on his chin as you made him look at you, gently turning his face to look at you. "oh, well don't just look away from someone after you confess to them, that's very rude." you said with a joking air.

miguel looked at you, his eyes wide as he saw, for the first time, a playful look on your face that had no malice, no anger, no... grump in it. "i may be grumpy and serious, but that doesn't mean i'm heartless." you tell him as you squeeze his cheeks together.

"man, who'd've thought a big, commanding man such as you was actually scared of little old me? now that just makes me blush." you said with a small laugh as a rosy blush slowly appeared on your cheeks, miguel's blush deepening.

"so, do you... do you feel the same way?" he asks you, pretty hopeful of your answer. you shrug. "i did just admit to jess and peter b how much i hated the way you made everything in missions about you... but maybe you did that because you hate having someone telling you what to do. i hate that too, actually." you say with a grin.

"i kinda like the cut of your jib, o'hara. maybe... maybe you and i can come around to a compromise on our, well..." you trailed off as you searched for the right words.

"attitude problems." lyla chimed in as she disappeared just as immediately as she came in. miguel groaned as you chuckled. miguel smiled up at you. "yeah, maybe we can... take a break from being such grumps." he said.

"hey, you're the grump–i'm always the right one, you know that." you tell him as you give him a sly look.

"is that right now?" miguel asked sarcastically as he smiled at you.

maybe both of your grumpiness would only be a sometime thing now, hopefully.

tags!! @miguelswifey04

#atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara fanfiction #spider man 2099 #atsv spiderman #atsv #atsv imagines #atsv x reader #atsv x y/n #atsv x you

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wing-ed-thing · 3 months

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Smoker Relationship Headcanons

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns

𓆃 For how tight-laced and no nonsense he can be, Smoker isn't a terrible partner in the slightest. While he brings some of his stern nature into a relationship, you'll find that he's extremely loyal and surprisingly soft and attentive.

𓆃 Putting it plainly, when it comes to relationships, Smoker has been there and done that. He knows the role he's meant to play in your chosen dynamic. And that being said, he knows exactly what he wants and doesn't waste any time playing games.

𓆃 While early inklings of catching feelings might throw him off a bit (especially if you've been close friends or colleagues), there's little else that keeps him from being direct and politely asking you out forthright.

𓆃 Smoker is rather untraditionally orthodox in the sense that he prefers the traditional song and dance of taking you to dinner, but bringing flowers didn't even cross his mind. He'll hold the door, but couldn't give a damn about which side of the road you walk on. And if you ask if he intends to split your bill he'll look at you like you're crazy.

𓆃 And there's almost no way to predict Smoker's picking and choosing in terms of his relationship expectations, which mostly comes from him thinking things and then not telling you because he thought them so you must automatically know.

𓆃 You'll find that you often have to roll with random things popping up in your mutual schedule at the last minute because how could Smoker not tell you he's been dispatched for the next two weeks?

𓆃 And his reaction is always the same. He'll crinkle his forehead and squint his eyes while the words "I thought I told you 'bout that" pass around his cigar.

𓆃 Smoker often sails for a period of time and then comes back home to where he's stationed. You can almost always count of this revolving schedule, although if yours is remotely similar, it's rare that your schedules line up.

𓆃 Whenever he travels, Smoker always brings back a little gift from whatever island he's just been to, and you've even found that you can request just about whatever your heart desires and Smoker will find a way to get it.

𓆃 Although, he doesn't understand a thing about trends, so requesting a popular item will be met with a grumpy, begrudging attitude.

𓆃 "Why do you want a stupid little trinket? You're not gonna ask for, ah, I dunno jewelry or somethin'?" "I'm not buyin' you a Soul King vinyl. You know that guy's a wanted criminal right?"

𓆃 For all his complaining, Smoker will come home with a necklace and the vinyl (he sent one of his men to buy one incognito).

𓆃 And he complains a lot and you'll find that he can have quite the attitude. After the third time you've mentioned how much you want take-away Smoker is going to put his jacket on and get it, but he's going to be mumbling and grumbling the whole time.

𓆃 That goes for just about anything you want on a whim. Whether you want something sweet in the middle of the night or you walked past something really nice at the market and now you're lamenting over whether you should have bought it.

𓆃 And every time Smoker is getting out of bed to get you ice cream or turning you both around so you— or more likely he— can buy you that item you were so infatuated with.

𓆃 But for every ounce of attitude he gives, it's within reason and expectation that you give it right back to him. Smoker will never say he likes when you're a bit sassy, but he's very clearly amused by banter.

𓆃 Landing a clever clap-back on him simply makes him smile. The smile is usually accompanied by an eyeroll and the shake of his head, but you can tell he loves when you get a little feisty.

𓆃 In the same vein, Smoker easily gets suckered by a bit of pouting here and there because for being rigid and grumpy, he would do anything short of breaking the law for you.

𓆃 If you're someone looking for something serious and long-term, look no further because Smoker is on board with settling down. Once you're in a relationship, there's very little that would keep him from being anything but dedicated to you.

𓆃 Oh, except piracy.

𓆃 Yeah, piracy would likely get in the way of that.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

#smoker x reader #one piece x reader #smoker #one piece smoker #vice admiral smoker x reader #captain smoker x reader #x reader #reader insert #smoker headcanons #smoker headcanon #one piece reader insert #x you #white chase smoker x reader #white chase smoker #op x reader #op headcanons #op headcanon #op smoker

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after-witch · 6 months

Text

Horrorfest: Nothing Ventured [Yandere Sesshoumaru x Reader]

Title: Nothing Ventured [Yandere Sesshoumaru x Reader]

Synopsis: Sesshoumaru lets you put together stuff for a Halloween party. Jaken is whiny about it.

For Horrorfest request:

Sesshoumaru with a darling that’s really into Halloween? (Maybe she’s in a kagome situation where she’s from the modern world) and goes on and on about Halloween and spooky things in general?

Word count: 1132

notes: yandere, reader is captive but is pretty much just like "this is my life now" about it

“I don’t see why you should be allowed to waste precious supplies for such, such--nonsense!”

Jaken’s impish fury being directed at you was nothing new, and you dutifully ignored him and continued working on your makeshift Halloween garland. It wasn’t anything like the type of stuff you might have bought back home, mass-produced and printed and ready-to-go, but maybe that just made it more special.

Jaken paced back and forth in front of you, waving his stick and ranting.

“To think! The invaluable ink I use to assist our lord Sesshoumaru, wasted for some… some… silly human festival!”

“Jaken.”

You and Jaken both froze in place. Jaken, out of anxiety, and you, out of curiosity.

Sesshoumaru, who had been sitting silently with his eyes closed ever since giving you permission to make some decorations, was now looking directly at his servant. He looked, as he often did, passive; but you knew that didn’t mean he wasn’t irritated.

“Y-Yes, my lord?” Jaken gave a little bow, eyes darting from you to Sesshoumaru.

“Did I not give them permission for this?”

Jaken bowed his head a little. “Y-Yes, my lord, but--”

Sesshoumaru leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes again. “Then shut up and help them. I’m tired of your complaining.”

Jaken’s face split into fury before smoothing out into exasperated obedience. “Of-of course, my lord.”

He turned to you, mumbling, and you didn’t hold your breath that he was anything but irritated with the command his lord had given him. It wasn’t the first time that Sesshoumaru had ordered Jaken to obey your whims; something which might have seemed impossible ages ago, but now that you had settled into an uneasy acceptance of your forced servitude to a demon lord from feudal Japan, it had become more common.

“You should be grateful, you know,” Jaken muttered, grabbing one of your complete garlands and stringing it onto the rope you’d commandeered for your makeshift Halloween celebration. He looked like he could make a good decoration himself, you thought--a creepy little creature who ran around terrorizing children while they trick-or-treated.

He continued speaking, even as his hands began to nimbly put together a garland. “A high-ranking demon lord like lord Sesshoumaru should never demean himself by giving in to some… human celebration.”

You hummed. “I know. But Halloween is my favorite holiday back home. So I’m glad I get to bring it here… sort of.” You glanced at the DIY supplies you’d been creating for a few days. There was your garland--the highlight of the decorations, in your opinion, although you wished you’d been able t find orange paints; a costume, for yourself, as you didn’t even entertain the idea that Sesshoumaru would be willing to dress up (you were secretly working on something for Jaken, but you would cross that bridge when you came to it); and a smattering of dishes that you were hoping to turn into something like Halloween party food.

You sighed. It was a shame you couldn’t make mummy hot dogs or use a gelatin mold to make a Jello brain. But it wasn’t like you had a way to get back to your own time period, or a way to get back… anywhere now. Sesshoumaru wouldn’t let you, even if you asked. Even if you pleaded sweetly and obediently. That’s how you got permission to set up Halloween, by pleading and pleading, and explaining how it worked and pleading some more.

After the garland, you were going to get to work on the pumpkin carving. At first, you’d assumed that you’d have to carve something else--plump round radishes, maybe--but when you’d sketched out a pumpkin for Sesshoumaru, he murmured that he recalled seeing some in a human vegetable garden once.

These pumpkins were dark green, almost black. You hadn’t tried to carve them yet--hopefully the insides weren’t too different from the bright orange pumpkins you always bought around Halloween time.

Jaken saw you looking at the stash of pumpkins he’d been forced to procure for your Halloween celebration and scoffed. “And another thing! What a waste of food! Carving faces into food… and for what! Some silly festival that I’ve never heard of? I tell you, you are the most--”

“Jaken.”

This time, when the two of you glanced at Sesshoumaru, his eyes flashed red in warning. Just for a moment.

Jaken stammered out an apology and you bit down on your cheek to avoid saying anything. While Jaken went dutifully back to work, you kept on looking at the demon lord, who--you would swear this on your life--gave you something like a teasing smile. Just for a moment, before he closed his eyes to rest again. Or maybe it was a trick of the light.

Abandoning the garland for a moment, you grabbed one of the charcoal drawings you’d made to test out designs for the pumpkins. You approached the seemingly resting lord Sesshoumaru and dropped down to sit near him, kneeling out of a habit of forced respect.

“Do you want to see what I’m going to carve into the pumpkins?”

He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he opened his eyes, looking at you for a moment.

“If you want to show them to me, you may. I don’t care.”

It was the closest thing to a “yes” that you were going to get. Really, you were grateful that he was letting you do this at all. Especially after you’d talked his ear off about Halloween the first time and his only response had been, “There’s nothing like that here. It sounds foolish.”

Maybe it was foolish. But it was the only thing you had going for you right now. So you smoothed out the papers and held them up. He looked at them with disinterest, even as you chattered away, explaining the design for each one.

When you were done, he glanced over at his impish servant.

“Jaken,” he said. Jaken, busy finishing up a garland with an expression of clear distaste on his face, looked up.

“Yes, my lord?”

“Watch over them while they do this. If they injure themselves, I’ll cut off your hand.”

Jaken bristled. You could practically see little feet of fear scampering up his spine as he straightened.

“Of-of course, my lord!”

Sesshoumaru sighed, and closed his eyes.

You scampered back over to Jaken and picked up the other end of the garland to help him finish.

Maybe you weren’t going to get to go home. Maybe it wouldn’t be a real Halloween. Maybe you were being held in this quasi-captivity by a demon lord who barely spoke to you (Jaken, for all his protests about your very existence, did respond to your chatter)--

But at least you were having some fun for once.

That counted for something.

#yandere sesshomaru #yandere sesshoumaru #yandere inuyasha #afterwitch writes #aw horrorfest #the cutest horrorfest thing for this year I'd say

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irkimatsu · 3 months

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Filling a request for @christinaatyourservice92! She requested a Husk x Reader where Reader "cleans up nicely", so to speak.

Husk/Reader, featuring Angel as an enthusiastic wingman. Some other characters kind of exist I guess. Reader is wearing a dress but otherwise their gender isn't specified; we're friendly to mascs in dresses here. Nothing further than dancing and kissing, anything with Husk is going to be a slowburn. But I love a good slowburn.

I'm still new to this fandom and haven't written most of these characters at all before, so please be patient with me! And feel free to send requests; I can't promise to have something for all of them, but who knows what could happen if you strike my fancy! (Probably only answering Husk related ones for now, though. Fuck I love Husk. Give me some Husk time for a bit. Husk... ahem.)

A ball wasn’t the worst bonding idea that Charlie ever had.

Granted, calling whatever was going on in the lobby of the hotel a “ball” was a bit of an overstatement. There weren’t that many guests, for one thing; the hotel didn’t have enough people for that, even including the employees. The decorations were set up quickly and cheaply, making the whole thing look more like a child’s birthday party. Entertainment was provided by Alastor, who stood off to the side and played instrumental ragtime music through his staff, presumably wondering what kind of nonsense this whole affair would lead to.

It had already led to Niffty dancing through the lobby with a “partner” made of bug carcasses, dust bunnies, and assorted other unmentionables, so that was a start.

Husk didn’t have to put in any sort of effort for this mess, but something had inspired him to clean himself up for once. He’d changed into a full suit and forgone the top hat, and he stood by the tables gently sipping a glass of red wine instead of chugging whiskey like it was a water bottle.

Angel, of course, noticed the discrepancy.

“Ooh, lookit you, all fancy,” he remarked as he took a spot beside Husk. Angel wasn’t too keen on the whole event, but he’d taken the opportunity to dress up in a nice skirt and wig, not one to waste a chance to play with his appearance. He certainly wasn’t giving up the chance to show off his legs, given how short his skirt was. “What’s the occasion?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Husk asked. “Not like I’m the only one dressed up.”

“Yeah, but I was born to look good. I ain’t showing up to even the shittiest party without showing off what I got! You, on the other hand, look uncomfortable.”

“It’s these wings,” Husk said. “It’s so damn hard to find a shirt that fits ‘em.”

“So why not take the shirt off?” Angel suggested, sing-songy tone confirming that he knew exactly how that sounded. Husk merely smiled and rolled his eyes at his friend’s sense of humor.

“Have you seen Y/N?” Husk asked.

“Ohhhhh.” Angel chuckled. “Ohhhh, I see what this is about…”

“Have you seen them?” Husk responded, his expression not changing.

“Someone like them at a ball? Uh-uh, ain’t no way they’re comin’ down here. You know they’re too much of a recluse for this fancy dress-up business.”

“You really think so…?”

“Aw, what’s got you lookin’ so down, Whiskers?”

Husk ignored Angel for another sip of wine, his desire to maintain some semblance of class preventing him from downing it as quickly as he’d like.

“Right. Be right back.”

“You better not be thinking about what I think you are!” Husk called after Angel as he walked away, but Angel didn’t respond.

—

You’re not going down there. You are not going down there. Not in this.

It’s not like it’s a revealing outfit or anything. It’s just a frilly, floor-length red dress. You’d picked it up when Charlie first announced the ball, fully intending to wear it that evening.

This is the first time you’ve looked at yourself in the mirror while wearing it, and the mirror is doing nothing to convince you to leave the room in this thing.

Even when you were alive, you were never particularly feminine; being feminine required being cute, and that just wasn’t something you were ever comfortable considering yourself as. Your appearance became even less of a concern after you died, with clothing being more of a suggestion than anything else. But a formal occasion sounded like the perfect chance to change that status quo.

What a stupid idea that was.

“Hey, Toots!” That voice along with three simultaneous knocks could only be one person. “You comin’ downstairs?”

“I’m fine! Thanks!” you call back without another thought. Why couldn’t you have gotten a nice outfit that was more gender neutral? Maybe you could change to your plain clothes and join the party that way…

But you know his tastes, and he might be disappointed to see you showing up for what’s supposed to be a major event in casual streetwear…

Better off not risking it.

“Aw, but it’s borin’!” Angel called from the other side of the door. “We could use some company down there!”

“Go ahead without me!” you assured Angel, preparing to change out of the dress and spend the evening to yourself in your room.

“But Husk wants to see you!”

The sound of his name makes you freeze.

It’s not a surprise that he wants to see you, really. You two have been getting along well, talking about your shared appreciation for music and the performing arts. Even the other members of the hotel have commented that Husk never softens quite as much as when you show an interest in his stories of his days as a performer in Vegas. He really does seem to like spending time with you.

But to hear it spoken out loud…

“You okay in there?”

You slowly open the door to see Angel standing there. At least you don’t need to worry about being overdressed; Angel’s got you beat in that department. He’s always impressed you with how he can take an outfit that should be so, so tacky on paper and yet make it work.

His eyes widen at the sight of you, and he lets out a whistle. “Well, damn. You in a dress. Never thought it’d happen.”

“I look stupid,” you mutter, holding your upper arm as you turn your head away. “I have no idea how to wear this thing…”

Angel scoffs. “You kiddin’? Look at me, honey. You know the types of people I hang out with, and let me tell ya, there is no one who can’t pull off a dress if they wanna.”

“Do you think Husk will like it?”

Angel laughs, and you immediately regret letting those words escape your mouth.

“Um, not that I… it’s just, he went to parties like this all the time, right? When he was alive, and when he was an Overlord, so he knows what people are supposed to wear… we’ve been getting along, but it might look bad if I’m underdressed…”

“You could go down there in a brown paper bag, and ol’ kitty cat down there would still be staring at you,” Angel assures you.

“Are you sure…?”

“Jesus Christ, you two are clueless.” He takes your hand in two of his and starts tugging you toward the stairs. “C’mon. You’re gonna go give Husk something to do besides finish off the wine all by himself.”

—

The reaction you get when you reach the lobby is less than you expected. Charlie’s happy to greet you, which you appreciate, but hers wasn’t the reaction you were looking for.

The only reaction you get from Husk is a briefly surprised glance before he turns away to refill his wine.

Is that really it…?

Angel must be equally unimpressed with the response. He storms over to Husk, and while you can’t really hear the conversation, you can see that it involves a lot of arm flailing from Angel and tail lashing from Husk.

The only phrase you can pick out is Angel saying, “Well, forgive me for trying to get you some-”

Should you go back upstairs? Husk doesn’t seem as happy to see you as Angel implied he would, and all you’re doing down here is standing in the middle of the room like an idiot. While you try to decide whether to run off and never think of this again, you notice Angel approach Alastor. He’s talking to Alastor with the same animated arm motions, while Alastor listens on in mild amusement. As Angel walks away, Alastor rolls his eyes and shakes his head, then gently taps his staff against the floor.

The bouncy ragtime music abruptly shifts to a downtempo jazz number.

Husk’s ears perk up at the sound, and as he looks up to figure out what’s going on, he locks eyes with you. You’re looking back at him, maintaining eye contact for far longer than he had when you first entered. He can’t just ignore you after that, can he?

Indeed, he can’t. Slowly, he walks toward you, uncertain at first but progressively gaining confidence. Angel flashes thumbs up signs that he can’t see behind him.

“Good evening,” he greets you, his deep voice so much more smooth than anything he’d shown as recently as thirty seconds ago. “You look nice tonight.”

“Thank you,” you respond, flashing your best smile. “You, too.”

Husk in a suit… you could get used to this.

His smile is surprisingly gentle when he does it without teeth. He holds out his paw. “Shall we dance?”

You take his paw in one hand, and he takes your other hand in his other paw. The two of you gently sway together, not making much contact, but even this proximity is making your chest pound. His confidence has grown considerably; he’s clearly used to things like this. He’s perfectly on rhythm, not holding your hands too loosely or tightly.

As if it’s the most natural thing in the world, he places a paw on your shoulder and pulls you close to him. You’re at a loss at what to do with your now free hand. It finds its way to his hip, and instantly your face starts heating. No, that’s way too much, way too quickly-

He doesn’t say anything about it. He only smiles.

Maybe it’s okay.

You stop focusing so much on where his hands are, or how he’s moving his feet. Your only concern is the gentle look he’s giving you as he dances with you, leading you in a perfect rhythm.

His arms have found their way around your waist at some point. You’re too lost in the moment to question it.

He whispers your name, and is it just you or is his face getting incredibly close? You raise a hand to stroke the fur on his cheek.

His lips are on yours, so chastely but they’re there, and you’re so floored by the action that you barely even register Angel whooping in the background. The kiss only lasts an instant, but you’re both a little more breathless now than when you started.

It’s the only time you kiss for now, but you spend much more time swaying together. You don’t know where one song ends and another begins; it’s only the underscore for one long dance, where the sliver of space between your bodies feels like a chasm.

No… not tonight. Not here. Not while they’re watching.

—

If it were up to you, that dance would have never ended… which is why it’s probably for the best that the sultry saxophone music abruptly changed to a loud swing number.

Alastor looks rather pleased with himself for the interruption.

You’d spend more time with Husk in the lobby, but not only is the music giving you a headache, but Angel keeps on staring at you with a raised eyebrow and a grin, and you don’t want any more time to think about what he’s theorizing in regards to your personal life.

“I wanna go back upstairs,” you tell Husk. Before he can look too disappointed, you then add, “You can come with me if you want.”

After you shout a good night at Charlie and Vaggie and Husk flicks a good-natured middle finger to the smirking Angel, the two of you head upstairs, and after some brief discussion, you agree to spend your time in Husk’s room. The two of you sit on the edge of his bed for a while as he shows you his collection of vinyls, and you discuss the possibility of the two of you possibly performing some of his favorite songs as a duet, with him on his saxophone and you singing.

“It’d be nice if we could sing together, too,” you say. “You have a really nice voice.”

The compliment flusters him enough that it takes him a moment to respond. “Maybe… but most of the duets I can sing are love songs.”

Now it’s your turn to blush, and it’s a lot more obvious on you than it is on him. You can’t hide the truth; you might as well say it out loud.

“I’d like singing a love song with you.”

Husk looks at the ceiling and smiles to himself, his thoughts elsewhere. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done a duet. Singing a love song with someone, and meaning every word of it… there’s nothing like it. I wouldn’t want to sing a duet like that with someone who doesn’t mean it.”

You snap him out of his daydream by placing your hand over his paw. “What about me? If I did mean it?”

He chuckles to himself. “You’d mean it? This soon? You just got here. We barely know each other.” Despite his words, he turns his paw around so he can hold your hand in return.

“You’re the one who kissed me down there,” you remind him.

“A single kiss isn’t love. Love takes time.” His body language doesn’t seem to be matching his words as he squeezes your hand. “It takes patience. Compromise. It’s not gonna fall into place easily. It’s easy to screw up… I’ve done it before.”

He’s looking at your face again, a once-unseen vulnerability in his eyes.

“...I don’t want to screw it up again. Not with you.”

“We can at least try.” You stroke his cheek again, now more focused than ever on the white hairs in his dark fur and the bags beneath his eyes. He’s been around for so long… he’s been hurt so many times.

If you could be the one to help him with that hurt…

You press your lips to his, and he accepts the kiss, holding it much longer than he did while you danced. He wraps his arms around you, not pulling you as closely as he could, but still letting you share in each others’ body heat.

It will take time, but you hope that someday, the two of you can sing that love song.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #hazbin husk x reader #uhhhh are there more tags. fuck there's so many #irk blubbers about nothing #irk huskposts

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bakugoushotwife · 6 months

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kinktober day twenty-seven: car sex

>>> no one will read these anyway based off of the reception for nobara, but i wanted to give the ladies some love this time around <3

>>> starring: maki zen'in x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: jealousy, homophobia w the zen'ins, making my own cannon, oral and fingering, car sex, semi-exhibitionism? i don't think so but just in case >>> wc: 1.8k >>> event masterlist:

formal events were the bane of her existence. she hated all the ritualistic steps of looking presentable for a clan celebration, of all things. maki has never been celebrated amongst her clan and she knows they won’t start anytime soon—so why did she have to show up and celebrate them? even worse, why did she have to drag her girlfriend to such an event? she knows half the elders will spend their time whispering about either her supposed powerlessness or her lesbianism, and the other half would be thinking about it all night long. she hated having to subject you to such nonsense, but her mother insisted–and she knew she’d never hear the end of it from her if she didn’t just suck it up and go.

so here the two of you are, shoved into the zen’in family banquet hall in a tight fit. maki was absolutely uncomfortable, forced to mingle with people she can’t stand while trying to keep a possessive hold on you. despite the controversial relationship, she wouldn’t let it be lost on anyone. you weren’t here as a plus one or just a friend, you were here as maki’s partner and she wasn’t shy about it. they hate her already, she couldn’t give less of a fuck. her anger will make her the perfect protector too, she won’t allow them to say anything offbeat to you or their reckoning may come early.

she also hated formal wear. it was impractical and stuffy, and she didn’t like being painted up to the nines, either. at least you looked amazing. you might be enough to make her rethink all her earlier opinions. seeing you tucked into a gorgeous kimono was definitely a lifeline to get her through the night—naobito’s birthday celebrations could perhaps pass harmlessly by with nothing more than the memories of how good you look. the silk highlights your body for days, tight around your chest and flowing down your legs. whereas maki feels completely out of place with rouge and lipstick on he skin, somehow it makes you look even more elegant and graceful. you’re flawless, evidence that maki is indeed good enough to deserve happiness. she keeps your hand in hers for the better part of the evening, fake smiling to some clan members while she keeps her scowl for others, you couldn’t quite find a rhyme or reason to her reactions. it isn’t until she’s pulled away by her sister that you’re able to understand.

of course you were familiar with the atrocities of the zen’in, and it made you more than just a little uncomfortable to be surrounded by them, but with maki by your side, you knew that no harm would possibly come to you. but with her gone, well. now you’re left wide open.

they don’t waste any time, a wall of zen’in has formed around you with various men bidding for your attention by offering you drinks and compliments, swearing that a zen’in man could give you a much better time than any woman—but especially one as weak and powerless as maki. their sentiment makes you snarl, but you don’t know how far maki is—meaning you don’t know how crude you can be with all these disgustingly vile creatures.

“weak? naobito’s birthday or no—we can test that theory.” her sharp voice cuts through the cacophony of others. the men are quieted instantly, and you feel yourself smirk. they start rattling off excuses as to why there should be no fighting here tonight—but you hear the real reason: they’re afraid.

maki has always been far more powerful than they deign to acknowledge. she’s a talented fighter, and you knew most of these old fuckers would be dead to rights if she really wanted to cause a scene. her presence is scary enough, brows set with a menacing look in her eye. she stares above their heads, making eye contact with you.

“come. i think it’s time we left, dear.” she extends her hand for you to take, holding the stare of the disgusting old men that came to hit on her girlfriend the moment she stepped away. you skip forward to take her hand, almost giddy at her demeanor as she squeezes your palm in hers. you knew that she was pissed. she was mad when she woke up this morning and remembered this stupid fucking party was today, but now she’s irate. everything she thought would happen, did, and she didn’t feel like subjecting you to any more ogling eyes. she starts to drag you both towards the door, hoping that the hour and a half she had managed to occupy the same space as her family would please her mother enough. not that she quite cared anyway, hearing your little giggles of excitement told her that you knew exactly how she would remedy her bad mood.

maki has a track record of jealousy, and you knew this time was no exception. this time may be the worst of them all, your girlfriend’s grip on your hand tightening as the driver brings the car around. her mind was racing with the harassments from the crowd, different cousins and uncles offering to show her girlfriend a good time after the party. tch, she didn’t have to wait. she would have you now, the windows of the car are tinted anyway. she opens the backseat of the spacious suv, jutting her chin out to the backseat.

your feel your face heat up as you obey her, crawling into the back on your hands and knees. maki turns to give the chauffeur a tip, patting his knowing shoulder. she doesn’t much care if people know what she’s about to do to you in this car. in fact, she hopes rumors spread about it. the windows being tinted was all she cared about—no one would get to see her pretty little girlfriend’s faces of pleasure but her. she steps into the car after you and pulls the door closed behind her. she’s thankful for the air conditioning and radio humming lowly in the background, your noses pressed together for a brief moment as she adjusts your seat, pushing you back and ensuring she has enough space in the floorboard.

you giggle a little, parting your thighs to give her room to sit between. she slinks between them easily, resting her hands on your knees as she peers over her lenses. you lick your lips in anticipation, seeing that anger in her eyes.

“worked up, babe?” you tease just a little, resting your hand on her head. she raises a brow at you, quietly warning you to watch your attitude. you grin a little, knowing you could push her to her limits after the night that you’ve had—but you’d be the one to reap the consequences. so you lean back against the seat a bit, easing your cunt closer. she looks down at your middle at the movement, but she nods.

“yeah. i’m a bit worked up.” she groans, bunching your silken skirt up by your thighs. her mouth salivates the closer she leans to the apex of your thighs. she catches your scent, grinning at the arousal already leaking down your legs. “they’re all just dying for a chance at you, hm?”

you roll your eyes with a satisfied little grin, shaking your head at her. you pull your skirt up some more for her, but you know not to worry about anything further or you’ll further irritate your already ticked off and overzealous girlfriend. “just too scared of you to come around.” you decide to stroke her ego instead.

she scoffs a little, amusement sparkling in the vast darkness of her emerald eyes. her fingers stroke over the center of your panties, and she hums approvingly at the dampness she can feel beneath. her lips tilt into a smirk, “and you like that?”

“i love that.” you purr, scratching her scalp a little bit. she smiles softly and pushes the flimsy fabric keeping your cunt from her to the side. she gives you a breathy chuckle, watching the strings of your arousal stick to your panties as she peels them away, she’s enamored.

“and i love that sloppy pussy, pretty girl.” she whispers, letting her fingers spread your lips apart. you take your lip in between your teeth in anticipation. she lets her slender thumb drag figure eights along your clit, face focused on your hardening tits and shifting face. you’ve always been so sensitive, it’s one of maki’s favorite things about you—how you jerk into her hand as she’s barely touched you, little moans coming from your pursed lips as the sounds of tires squealing outside overtake the music in the car. maki grins—you’re holding up the line, leaving the other zen’in’s no choice but to pull around maki’s signature suv. she chuckles a bit as she leans in, attaching her pink lips to yours, letting her fingers work their magic over your bundle.

your body drowns in warmth, looking down at your sexy and strong girlfriend giving you head never got old. she always knew how to get you going, possessively shoving you in the back of her car was on the list. you grip at her hair as the pressure from her fingers intensifies, tongue slipping past your lips and straight into the hole—and she moans at the taste of you. your head rolls against the rest behind you, hands weaved into green locks in an effort to grind yourself down on her tongue inside you without moving her fingers. one of her hands pushes your thigh away, keeping you from breaking yet another pair of her glasses.

she works in perfect time, knowing exactly how to send you over the edge without much work at all. she knows no man could tend to you so easily—making you cum like it was chewing gum or breathing. that’s why only she gets to wear the remnants on her face. you buck into her mouth, whines going high pitched. she taps your thigh, giving you express permission to cum on her face.

you whimper, the affection in her eyes was enough to send you toppling over the edge. your hips shake, the dam breaking in your gut—your release covers your girlfriend’s tongue as she curls it inside, gathering all the taste of you that she could with a few animalistic moans as she sucks you clean.

she pants a little as she pulls away from your cunt, tucking your panties back over the mess with a little smile of arrogance. “did that make you feel better, sweetheart?” she asks, pulling your skirt back down as she leans up toward your face. you bend down to meet her, she was still on her knees after all.

you chuckle, giving her a soft kiss. “i meant to ask you that.”

#kylee's kinktober event #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kyleewritesjjk #maki x reader #maki thirst #maki zen'in #maki smut #maki zenin #maki zen'in x reader

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yenqa · 11 months

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tolerate it

synopsis : your love should be celebrated, but sakusa seems to tolerate it. (loosely based off taylor swift’s tolerate it)

warnings : ANGST. food/eating, lots of self doubt, hurt no comfort, sakusa is a HORRIBLE fiancee, mentions of crying, lmk if there are any more!

pairing : sakusa x gn!reader (i think)

wc : 0.64k

a/n : was feeling evil!! (no i was just in an angst writing mood) uhhh enjoy ig! also plz tell me if there are any mistakes!

three hours and forty-eight minutes.

that’s how long you’ve waited for kiyoomi to come home.

you understood practice times fluctuated, but this was just disappointing. practice usually ends at five, it’s 8:48—no, it’s 8:49 now. you glance at your phone to find the screen reflecting your face, not a single message for the past three hours. not a simple "hey! practice is running late; don’t wait up for me" or even just "i’ll be home late." nothing. nothing should’ve been expected, he never messaged you anyway.

your dinner had gone cold, the nice plates covered with fancy food had been left to mold for how long it’s been.

he would’ve hated this dish anyway. the hours you spent perfecting the recipe had gone to waste, your time had gone to waste sitting, waiting for him to come around.

where was he? was he really that immature to have you waiting for three hours?

the clock ticked to nine o’clock. four hours, he had been mysteriously missing.

you were told not to text him while he was practicing because it would distract him. but you figured one text wouldn’t hurt.

"where are you?" was the only thing you sent. reading it stayed delivered for the next twenty minutes. but you figured your messages with him had collected dust anyway, so it wasn’t a surprise.

9:31 was when the door finally opened, he walked through the door quietly, looking up to make eye contact with you.

"where were you, omi?" you ask. it wasn’t an angry exclamation, just a confused one. but his eyes furrowed, and he crossed his arms, almost sighing as he answered, "practice."

you scoff, "practice? why didn’t you tell me that it would go on for an extra four hours?"

kiyoomi shrugs. he shrugs.

"are you serious, sakusa? you’ve been practically missing for four hours, and i don’t get a single text? did you not think your fiancee would be worried?"

"i can’t tolerate this right now, we’ll talk tomorrow." you watch him walk away from you, not looking back once.

tolerate this. he’s tolerating it. you’ve been waiting by the door for four hours, and he doesn’t care. he doesn’t care you’ve spent hours on end cooking his dinner, one that just went to waste anyway.

you’re putting your all into this relationship. since the moment you got together, you’ve constantly worried, "am i not good enough for him?" but you guess you never were. he told you that it was all in your head, he reassured you that you were an amazing partner. but what's wrong with you now?

you stomp into his room; he glances at you and then continues to unpack his practice bag.

"what am i doing wrong? why are you being like this?"

he sets down his bag and says, "I didn’t ask you to wait for me."

"is that not the bare minimum?"

"god- when did you become so clingy?"

frustrated tears start to blur your vision. "clingy? are you serious, sakusa?"

he nods ever so slightly.

"sakusa, have you ever thought about anything you did in this relationship? i can’t even remember the last time we had a decent conversation. and i’m clingy for wanting to save this relationship?"

"if it was so bad, why didn’t you just leave?"

the world had gone silent, as if it was listening to every piece of nonsense your lover had been saying. this was the man you loved. this was the man who tried to hide his tears of happiness when he proposed, this was the man who had so nervously asked you out. this was the man who had never forgotten anything important to you. but where was he now?

you take a shaky breath and ask, "did you ever even like me? or were you just tolerating it?"

he stays silent, and you take that as your cue to leave.

your love story should’ve been something from a romance movie, something sweet and sincere. but all good things came to an end, especially his love for you.

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hobie-enthusiast · 11 months

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RIGHT THERE !

— hobie brown x gn!reader

— hurt/comfort, emotional scare basically, injury and death, cursing (its the f word once)

— it wasn’t his canon event, but god it may as well have been

— i’ve been sitting on this idea teehee. also looking for reqs! send in requests please pls pls :) (directly reuploaded from my old acc @/hobieenthusiast)

The mission was simple.

Gwen, Pavitr, and Hobie were supposed to stop the anomaly along with that dimension’s Spider-man, then return back to base. Rules were same as always. Get in and out. Try not to cause too much damage.

And don’t interfere with a canon event.

This dimension’s Spider-man just happened to be another Hobie Brown. Difference? This one actually embraced the name Spider-punk.

“I think it’s cool. Why not?” Spider-punk said with a shrug, scanning around for the anomaly.

Hobie glances around as well underneath the mask. “Just don’t believe in consistency. Or labels.”

“Focus.”

The group manages to find the anomaly, but of course it would put up a fight. A city level destruction type fight. Now the Spider-people had to take the anomaly down while also saving everyone.

“Split up.” Gwen spoke, pointing downward by a bridge. “Hobie and I will take the anomaly down. Spider-punk and Pavitr, go help people evacuate.

Everyone nodded as they split, Hobie and Gwen heading towards the end of the bridge to take the anomaly down. Pavitr and Spider-punk ushered people off the bridge, quickly and effectively swinging to save any stragglers.

That’s when Spider-punk’s eyes caught sight of someone. Someone so familiar to him.

You. Stuck on the ledge of the bridge covered in stray metal and bricks. Your path was blocked.

He wasted no time swinging towards you, yelling to Pavitr what he was doing. Pavitr’s eyes widen as the Spider swung that way, but never making it. The anomaly fell back and hit him into a bus.

The anomaly stumbled backwards before falling down off the ledge, not before grasping at some held up wires and metal. All of that cam crashing down, right onto the ledge after he fell.

Right onto you.

That world’s Hobie yelled out before getting back up, getting to the debris as fast as possible. He pushed everything off of you as quickly as possible, dragging your tired and hurt body from the rubble.

“[Name], no no, ‘ey, I’m ‘ere.” He whispered, desperately taking his mask off to look down at you.

“Oh Hobie..”

Gwen and Hobie-138 swung down to the scene. Gwen’s expression turned somber at the scene, knowing exactly what was happening.

Hobie however, he just, stared. It was almost like looking at a future prediction for him.

No. It can’t be.

“Hobie..” You whisper, raising a hand to his face as you weakly cough. “I’m not.. gonna..”

Hobie shook his head, grasping your hand. “Aye, you will. Don’t say nonsense, alright?”

Except it wasn’t nonsense. The three outsiders knew the outcome of this, and they couldn’t do anything besides.. well walk away. Pavitr and Gwen kept their heads down as they snuck from the scene, getting ready to open a portal.

Hobie didn’t move a muscle.

“Hobie?” Pavitr whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder. But nothing.

He could only stare at his counterpart began crying over you, watching as the injuries only make your body weaker and weaker.

“Do me a favour, yeah?” You call out weakly, taking a shaky breath. You didn’t have much time. “Keep saving the world. From enemies, fascists, all the evil plaguing the innocent. I know.. you can do it.”

The poor Hobie shook his head, not even trying to stop the crying. “I need ya, [Name]. Stay with me.”

“I can’t.” You respond, another cough escaping your lips. You offer your best smile, gently closing your eyes. “Keep rocking the world, my wonderful Spider-punk.”

And with that, you took your final breath.

Outsider Hobie stared as his counterpart cried out, clutching your now deceased body. His expression was.. a multitude of things. Sadness, anger, shock, nervousness.

Was this.. no. It can’t be.

“Hobie please.” Pavitr said, pulling him in his direction. “Let’s let him grieve.”

Hobie mindlessly followed his teammates into the portal, back into headquarters. Miguel was awaiting them as Gwen gave her description of how their mission went.

Hobie finally took his mask off, wiping the lone tear that managed to escape his eye. That.. wasn’t you. No, it wasn’t his [Name]. You were still with him.

“Hobie..?”

He turned to see Gwen and Pavitr with concerned expressions. Gwen was first to speak. “Are you okay..? I know that was..”

“‘m alright.” He responded quickly, shaking his head. “Wasn’t my [Name], yeah? So ‘m fine.”

He didn’t keep the conversation going any longer. Hobie quickly opened a portal back home, walking through it before any protests could be heard.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You finally finish cleaning up your room, putting the last shirt you needed to hang on the rack. As you move your laundry basket back to its place, you hear your window open and close quickly.

Of course you knew who it was.

“Hobie?” You call out, emerging from the small closet. “Hey! How was the mission?”

He was wordless as he saw you, standing there, alive. But he needed more. Hobie continued his silence as he moved forward, pulling you tightly into a hug.

Your eyes widen as you wrap your arms around him. “My my, I missed you too.” You spoke with a small laugh.

The hug lasted for a solid two minutes. Hobie just simply relished in how warm and inviting you were. How wonderful you smelled, always like home. How you didn’t question his sudden need for touch, just embraced it.

When he finally did pull away, you smile, placing a hand on his cheek. “Everything alright?”

Hobie lets out a small smile, holding your hand and kissing you palm. “It is now.” He said in response.

No matter if what he saw was his canon event or not, he’ll be damned if he let it happen to you. His [Name]. Fuck Miguel’s rules.

#NEW ARTICLE || OUT NOW !!#hobie brown x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #hobie brown #hobie x reader #spiderman #spider punk #hobie brown x you #spider man atsv #atsv hobie #atsv x reader

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rosepeta1z · 4 months

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A slice of sweets

A/N: this is a very very late happy birthday fic to Wanderer/Scaramouche. Fluff, you call him Scaramouche, small tiny tiny mention of throwing up and gagging. I think that’s it.

Word count: 853 words

Scaramouche hates sweets, but for you, he’s willing to suffer and try.

Today was Scaramouche birthday.

It was just another normal day for him. To him, there was no reason to celebrate his birthday. It was no big deal, especially to him. It was just a waste of his time. He had other things to do. If anything, he just wanted peace and quiet for the whole day.

That would be his birthday wish.

So, why were the students in the akademiya bothering him and trying to give him sweets and cake?

He almost gagged when a poor student went up to him when he was just hiding out in the wild and gave him a small sweet. Anyone could tell it was so sickeningly sweet. He simply gave the sweet a grimaced look and shook his head, giving her the small sweet back.

“I don’t do sweets. Take it for yourself, I don’t need or want it.”

The girl that was trying to be nice gave him a sad look, simply nodding her head and walking away seemingly embarrassed.

Maybe he was a bit too straightforward, but he just couldn’t stand sweets! There was nothing in the world that could make him eat them.

Hours passed by, and the same thing would happen over and over again. People from the akademiya would somehow find him and offer him the same thing over and over again.

Sweets, cake, sweet, cake. He felt like throwing up just by how many times he had to smell and look at the sugar filled stuff they gave him. That, and the fact it was starting to really annoy him now.

—-

After all of that, he finally found a place he could sit and just relax. It was a big tree that gave a nice shadow that cooled him down a bit. It was refreshing and relaxing. This, was his birthday wish.

….

Or was it really? He laid his hat on the side and stared at the sky in deep thoughts.

Were birthday wishes even true? I mean, sure, peace and quiet seem nice. But that’s not his actual wish.

His actual wish was to spend more time with you. You were one of the students in the akademiya, and he was quite fond of you. Unlike the others. You talked a lot, but you didn’t talk a lot where to the point you would blow his ear off from how much you’d talk. You talked the perfect amount, your choice of words fascinated him, the way you talk, the way you look when you talk. Everything about you was perfect to him.

He chuckled at his own thoughts. When did he start thinking about stuff like this? He wasn’t used to it.

Right when he was deep in thought, he heard a branch crack near him. He glanced around him before his eyes laid on a figure. It was you? How’d you find him? Before he could collect himself you walked up to him with a sweet smile on your face. The smile that he secretly loved to see everyday.

“Hey, Scaramouche! Happy birthday, I heard from the other students that you were around here so I thought I’d stop by to give you my own little gift for you!”

You presented him a small case of a slice of cake. It seemed sweet. Too sweet.

But how could he give up a cake you gave him? There’s no possible way that he could.

He stared at the cake, then at you, then at the cake once again. He cleared his throat and managed to crack a small smile before raising his hands to take the cake from you.

“Oh, cake? …Thanks. I’ll be sure to eat it. Though, you really didn’t need to do this much for my simple ‘birth’. It’s not necessary one bit.” He muttered, he bit back what he wanted to say about sweets and how much he hated them. But for you, he’ll accept it. But, don’t expect him to actually eat it. Nope.

“Nonsense, I did it because you’re my friend and I care about you! So much so that I made a cake for you. How about you try it? I wanna know what you think about it.” You happily said as you took a seat down right next to him. You seemed more happier than him for his birthday.

“Eat? This cake?” He so desperately wanted to say ‘absolutely not’, but…for you.. he guesses he could make an acceptation just to see you happy. Even though he hated sweets with a burning passion.

He didn’t want to waste any more time stalling, so he quickly took a bite of the cake and swallowed it as quickly as he could so he couldn’t get that taste of awfully sweet sugar. He almost gagged but put on a straight face for you.

Your eyes sparkled when you saw him try it and give a thumbs up. He knew it would be worth it.

At the end of the day, he did managed to spend more time with you and form a stronger bond. It turns out, birthday wishes do come true.

#genshin impact #genshin impact oneshots #genshin x reader #genshin scara #scaramouche #scarameow #scara x reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer #genshin wanderer #genshin impact reader insert #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month

Text

Second Chance 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Jonathan Pine

Summary: You move into your parents' house as you try to rebuild your life, catching the attention of someone you never expected.

Part of the Brother's Best Friend Universe

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

It’s no glorious homecoming. You have little to be proud of. A broken relationship, a lost job, and wasted years. In hindsight, it’s easy to see how stupid you are. Even with the excuse of emotion, you can’t forgive yourself for your own poor choices.

Back to square one. Literally. What kind of forty-two year old lives with their parents? The one staring back at you.

You splash your face, rinsing away the collagen wash that doesn’t seem to help the wrinkles. If it had, maybe he wouldn’t have cheated. Maybe he wouldn’t be shacked up with a woman half your age. A girl, really.

You shake your head and sigh. Nothing you can do or undo.

You shut off the tap as you hear voices above. The basement is close enough to an apartment; you have your own bathroom and a reasonable amount of space. Privacy is another matter as your mother barges in to get to the laundry room or even just chatter about Clara’s casserole.

You dry your face and your hands and leave the bathroom. You cross the carpeted floor to the stairs and pause. Your brother must have got to town early and your parents are ecstatic to have him back. They can be proud of him; he’s an executive in a national company with a wife-to-be on his arm. Younger but always ahead of you.

You still haven’t found the courage to go up and say hello. Now’s as good a time as ever. You’re thirsty and they say hydration is the key to staying young. Yeah right, that’s not something you can change now.

You hope your future sister-in-law doesn’t mind your pajamas. The blue and white striped satin set are of the few nice things you salvaged from your former life. You open the door and shuffle up in your slippers.

The voices draw you to the kitchen. You peek around and find your parents standing on one side of the square island as your brother stands between two other figures. You didn’t think there was anyone else coming.

You think better of introducing yourself. You’ll go back downstairs and say you fell asleep. As you turn, your arm hits the vase on the side table. You cringe as it goes silent.

“Honey?” Your mother calls to you. You exhale and steel yourself.

“Uh, hi,” you sidle into the doorway, “I didn’t want to interrupt. I just wanted to get some water.”

“Nonsense, Jaydon’s here with his love fiancee, Tandi,” she trills as she beckons you forward, “and Jonathan popped in to catch up.”

You look around as you near the island. Jonathan. Pine? You didn’t think he was still around here. Everyone else seems to have moved on.

“Hey,” your brother, Jaydon grumbles.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Tandi offers her hand with a bright smile. She’s tall and slim and beautiful and probably ten years younger than your brother. Why do men always do that?

“You too,” you give a strained smile.

“Nice to see you again,” Jonathan intones and you look at him, struck by his clinging eyes.

He changed but he is not unrecognizable. He was always the tall, stringy kid but he’s filled out, he has some lines across his forehead and around his eyes, but they only refine his looks. He used to just be your brother’s sidekick, now he stays straight and confident.

“You too, Jonathan,” you murmur, “sorry, I didn’t think you’d be here tonight.”

“We made pretty good time,” Jaydon says proudly.

“Just so happens I’m in town for a family affair as well,” Jonathan adds, “good a time as ever to reconnect.”

You nod and wait for someone else to speak. You have nothing exciting to boast of. You’d rather fade into the background in the shine of their achievements. You’re certain they’ve already been briefed on your comedy of errors.

“Me and Tandi were just saying we’d like to go to the farmer’s market tomorrow. You could join us for a ladies’ day out. We’ll give the men some space,” your mother chimes. “Get you out of the house.”

Her last comments sting. You’ve been hiding. You don’t want to be recognised or need to explain yourself. Even if you did deflect curiosity, you don’t need another reminder of all your failures. And the farmer’s market? What are you going to do there? You don’t have the money for overpriced heirloom tomatoes.

Still, you have to play along. That was the talk your mother had with you. Like a teenager she had to tell you exactly how to behave when company was there. Company? He’s your brother.

“Sure, that sounds good,” you agree.

“I’m so excited,” Tandi beams, “it will be nice to explore and get to know Jay’s hometown.”

She touches his arm and he promptly drapes it around her shoulders. Jay? He always hated being called that but he seems to like her. For now. Their show of intimacy makes you shrivel up inside.

“There is very much to see,” Jonathan quips, putting your own thoughts to words. “Quaint, as the polite would put it.”

“Well, I recall you never had any issue finding something to do,” your mother rebukes playfully and Jonathan smirks.

“Yes, but I don’t suppose it’s the sort of activity your little ladies’ day out would entail,” he gives a coy tilt of his head.

“I hope you’ve grown out of that,” your mother kids.

“Mm, I like to think I have,” he shrugs.

You’re certain he has. All of them are the adults in the room and you’re the hermit in the basement. You have no illusions, you know your mother, you know all your mistakes have been laid out on the table; on every table in town. Oh woe to her, she always did try to raise you right.

“Mm, yes, well, it has been so long and you are all adults,” your mother says, as if to affirm your resent, “you’ve all come such a far way.”

You bite down on your cheeks, holding your tongue. It’s probably not a snipe at you, you’re just sensitive. You look at the counter and try to make yourself small. The glimpse of your pajamas once more sets you apart from them. How embarrassing.

“Oh, yes, speaking of,” Jaydon pipes up, “the engagement party. You said you had a venue in mind. We should see that while we’re here.”

“Ah,” your mother nearly squeals, “you’re going to do it here?”

“We talked about it,” Jaydon looks at Tandi, “but the wedding is still up in the air.”

“Oh my, how exciting,” your mother trills. “Perhaps tomorrow then, we might do that as well,” your mother continues her giddy raving, “mm, and flowers, catering, oh! A dress…”

You could slip away right then. She wouldn’t notice. None of them would.

You peek over at her. She was never that excited for you. Well, you never got the ring. You were never that special. You tear your eyes away and they meet another pair. You quickly wipe the sadness from your face and send Jonathan a plaintive smile. His eyes narrow and his gaze lingers.

You break your own stare and try to focus on the conversation. You should be happy for your brother, not bitter. Afterall, you made your own mistakes, not him.

#jonathan pine #dark jonathan pine #dark!jonathan pine #drabble #jonathan pine x reader #the night manager #series #au #brother's best friend #second chance

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