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literaila · 2 months

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bad day

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: satoru can take things seriously... seriously, he can(not).

warnings: lil angst, fluffy, the children are side characters (not), tiny little argument (very tiny), nanami mention!?!?@@?#

a/n: i was going to write a cute valentines day thing but instead i overanalyzed the way all of these characters push their emotions away and here were are (: (also sorry yall i was buried beneath the earth for a couple days)

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year two.

satoru has been watching you for at least three minutes. he tries to pretend that his eyes flicker away every couple of seconds—checking his phone or laughing at something or doing anything but staring—but he knows that his eyes never drift for long.

it’s not his fault, actually. on any normal day he’s usually staring at you—discreetly, he swears—watching your smile when he says something stupid, or your frown when he’s messing around. your eyes when they’re tired, your lips when they’re moving (or staying still, honestly).

but this isn’t his usual method of observing you. with the back and forth and the peering gaze.

and because he took off his glasses as soon as he got home, he knows that you should be able to tell.

but you haven’t said anything, which is the second sign that something is wrong.

“what’s going on?” he asks after the silence has faded into something uncomfortable.

his usual tactic is to wait for you to notice the silence and say something, but it’s not working. honestly, satoru’s not even sure if you know that he’s still there. usually, the two of you pick up on each other like magnets, just drawn closer, an obvious pull between your presences.

but you’re kinda far away, leaning back every time he leans forward.

“what?” you look up, finally, eyes wide with surprise. he might as well have just caught you stealing something. “what?” you repeat, less shocked.

“what happened?”

if you were a normal person, you would be radiating negative energy, he thinks.

you sigh, shaking your head. you think he’s joking—which is the point of his tone, of his words—but he’s not. just trying to get you to roll your eyes or push him away or tell him to go somewhere else.

anything you might usually do.

but you only frown, looking away again. “satoru, what are you talking about?”

“you.” he answers, quickly. “this… this.” he gestures to all of you.

“nothing,” you slap his hand back, finally rolling your eyes. “i'm fine. i'm good.”

“the kids say something?”

“nothing unusual. tsumiki asked if she could go to dinner with a friend friday night—“

“what about you?”

“what about me?”

“you’re frowning.”

you sigh. “cause i'm trying to make dinner and you’re distracting me.”

but you falter a little bit because he’s not wrong.

satoru can see it. and you’re a terrible liar.

“hey,” he pulls you away from the counter, getting your eyes on his. “talk to me.”

“it’s nothing, satoru,” you say, clearly trying to make the words stronger than they are. “i'm just tired.”

“you didn’t sleep?”

“i did…”

“and you’re tired?” he pokes, trying to catch you in your obvious lie.

it doesn’t take words—a confession, some truth—for him to see the other kind of tired in your eyes. the kind that he’s only noticed on cloudy days when you were alone on campus, or when he ignores something he knows you want him to talk about.

it’s a look he hates. the kind of eyes that shake him to his very core.

not that he’ll ever admit that to you, or anyone else. he shouldn’t care if you’re sad, or something of the sort. it’s none of his business.

and yet, right now, those thoughts don’t matter to him at all.

“it’s just been a long day,” you whisper, gesturing around you.

“why?”

you groan. “i need to finish dinner, okay? i just want—“ you breathe out.

“what?”

“a little space. i just…”

“what?” his brows are furrowed.

“go hang out with tsumiki,” you whisper, “or annoy megumi for a bit, or something. dinner will be ready in, like, forty-five minutes,” you’re almost pleading when you whisper, like an afterthought, “leave me alone for a while?”

the shake of his head is almost unconscious. “not until you talk to me.”

“i don’t want to talk.”

“i don’t care,” he says, in the same patronizing tone.

“satoru, honestly, i’m trying to cook and you’re getting in the way—“

“just tell me what happened.”

“nothing happened,” you say, trying to convince the two of you. “i just don’t feel very good, is all. it’s nothing.”

“clearly, it’s not nothing.”

“it’s nothing,” you repeat, harshly.

“how can i help?” he wonders, watching as you try to tilt away from him. “do you want me to—“

“seriously,” you almost snap. “i want to be alone, for a bit, alright?” your voice is stronger than it’s been since you walked in the door. your eyes are hard as you look away from him. “i just want a couple minutes without someone clinging to me, or asking me for something. is that okay with you?”

satoru watches your face, the way your eyes flicker shut, the brief quivering of your lips.

and he could say something—crack a joke, ask you if you’re okay again, prod for an explanation—but he’s always been fond of running instead of doing the right thing.

so he does.

you asked for space, and he might as well give it to you. he can do at least that.

he goes into the living room, ruffling megumi’s hair as he sits on the couch, but he doesn’t say anything.

and he doesn’t see the glance between the two children, the wide eyes. but he can almost feel it when you lean against the counter, letting out a frustrated sigh.

dinner is very quiet. tsumiki chats with megumi idly, smiling every time she remembers something about her day, or when megumi shows an ounce of interest in what she said.

you ask her questions every once and a while, like you’re just remembering that you’re supposed to be listening to her.

satoru doesn’t comment on this. he does the same, poking at both of the kids while they feast like animals.

and then megumi is clearing the table, and tsumiki is helping put everything in the kitchen away, and satoru washes the dishes, noticing immediately when you disappear.

he pats both of the kids on the back, saying something about leaving cleaning up in their capable hands, before he follows.

his movements are out of his command. he hasn’t said anything—hoping to give you what you asked him to—but he’s only so strong.

he finds you in his bedroom, sitting on his bed like you’re the one who messed up the sheets.

satoru is so concerned he doesn’t even think about you being there. on his bed. he doesn’t even blink.

but he shuts the door behind him, waiting.

“hey,” you say to him, so soft it’s almost inaudible. “i’m sorry.”

satoru leans against the doorjamb, a small smile on his face that you’re not looking at. it feels pointless. “dinner wasn’t too bad,” he shrugs, “i mean, could’ve used some salt, but i’m not complaining.”

you don’t smile at his tease, don’t turn your head to shoot him a look. his icebreaker has done nothing but come back to hit him in the eye.

his smile drops to something more asinine, a bit broken as it lays upon his face. “what’s going on?”

“i, um…” your lips purse, and you shake your head. “i’m sorry, satoru. for snapping at you. i’ve been—“ you sigh again, the words all broken and clipped like you’re not sure how they go together. it’s such a weird apology, sounds so wrong coming from you. “it’s been a rough day i shouldn’t have… i shouldn’t take it out on any of you. i didn’t mean to upset you,” you finally look at him, your eyes almost pleading.

satoru’s brows raise in surprise. “i’m not upset.”

“you haven’t talked to me in two hours.”

“you asked me not to,” he shrugs, again, uselessly. “i was just following orders.”

you watch him like he’s going to reveal a secret. “…really?”

he feels the grin creep on his face. “had to happen sometime.”

you shake your head, though your lips twitch—and satoru might be the only one who can sense that relief, the tiny pinprick of exhaustion leaking onto your skin.

he walks over to the bed, sitting next to you. “tell me about it.”

“you don’t want to hear it. it’s all stupid.”

“hey,” he nudges you, fingertips dancing on your thigh. “you say a lot of stupid things and i always listen.”

“i’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

his head rests on yours. “talk,” he demands, soft.

and he can feel it as the emotions overflow—a secret he’s always kept to himself, that knowledge of everything that happens within your body, the walls that can’t keep him out—but he doesn’t move. just waits.

it’s sort of excruciating, but then you’re always telling him that he’s a masochist.

“i was just thinking about…” satoru hears you swallow, and he nods against your head like he understands even though he doesn’t. “about everything.”

“wow. way to narrow it down.”

you pinch his leg.

he grabs your hand, tucking it under two of his as a pure method of defense. your skin is warm and a bit clammy.

“i—“ you pause. breathe in and out very slowly. “nanami called me, yesterday.”

satoru freezes. the two of you almost avoid talking about school—about jujutsu—on principle. like you’re trying to distance yourself from the years of wear and tear. banish all of the bad from a broken timeline.

“he did?” he whispers, eventually.

“he, um, wants to get lunch or something. sometime. talk about stuff.”

“that’s… nice.”

you laugh. “it’s nice that the only other person left in my year is finally reaching out?” you say, dryly. “after leaving me, and pretty much everything else behind? and that he wants to talk?”

satoru muses, “nanami always knew all the best lunch spots.”

“you would only care about that.”

“hey, a free meal is no joke.”

“says the man who bought four separate dinners last week. and ate them all.”

“i can't control the cravings,” satoru says, whining to you, “i’m a growing boy.”

you laugh, and satoru takes pride in the way your body shakes against him. the little giggle he’d like to claim as his own.

“so, did he say why? something happen?”

“no… i’ll text him, every once and a while. just to check in, you know. but he usually doesn’t answer,” there’s an edge to your words, and you brush it off. “he probably just feels guilty. thinks i’m pining for him, or something.”

satoru snorts. “because nanami has ever felt guilty about anything.”

you sigh. “he does, actually,” you turn to meet his eyes. “why do you think he left?”

satoru considers it, for just a second too long. he thinks about what he might feel if you left instead. and then he throws that thought as far away from the two of you as possible. “…i don’t know.”

“he never really liked being a sorcerer, obviously. but after haibara… nanami isn’t like you and me. he can’t just—just shut out those feelings. ignore them,” you shake your head, pulling your hand from satoru’s.

“what do you mean?” he asks, before he can think about it.

your lip twitches, and you shake your head at him. you know so much more than he does, and he’s not sure how to catch up.

but you don’t give him the chance. “i know—i know he had to leave. i mean, i’ve thought about it too, how much easier everything would be if i…”

there’s a moment where satoru feels frozen to his core. like he’ll never be able to hold onto tight enough to get you to stay. that he’ll lose another person just because he wasn’t strong enough.

but you smile at him, sort of sad, and then you say, “i just don’t know why he had to leave me, too.”

his face falls, seeing the glimmer of sliver in your eyes.

satoru has seen you cry before. at movies, on difficult missions, when tsumiki asked to cuddle on the couch with you for the first time. he’s seen it before, the tears sliding down your face like a release he’ll never get to know.

but it’s never made him feel like this. never made him feel like he might tear through the world—might return to that numb space, where nothing really matters—just so he doesn’t have to see it ever again.

you wipe the tear away as it comes.

he understands that feeling so completely. that inevitable question, where there’s no stopping the thought that maybe if you did something different, it might not have happened. maybe if he was enough, satoru thinks, he could’ve gotten him to stay.

but this isn’t about him. and he doesn’t want to tell you that he’s pretty sure the feeling will never go away.

satoru licks his lips, so angry that he never knows what to say.

so angry that he's never been enough for this.

“sorry,” you whisper, voice a bit rough with emotion. “i know it’s silly. it’s his life.”

“it’s not,” he answers immediately. “it’s not silly.”

you give him a half smile, finally leaning away. you look down at the floor, still considering something with your brows furrowed.

“what?” satoru leans forward, to catch your eyes.

you sigh. “it’s stupid to be sad about this when i have so much to be grateful for,” you tell him, quickly, the words harsher than before. “i'm always telling megumi to try and focus on the good and appreciate the people he has instead of worrying. but—here i am, feeling sorry for myself about something that shouldn’t even matter.”

“megumi gets stuck in those thoughts for weeks,” satoru responds, just as quickly. “you can have a bad day.”

you shake your head. “you never do.”

satoru falters, pausing. and then he reaches out, turning your head towards him. and he throws on his smile—the one he knows will make you roll your eyes. “that’s because all of my days are bad,” he whispers.

you smile back. it's an offering, of sorts. “true.”

he frowns at you, still unsure how to relieve this pain. “you take good care of all of us,” he says, instead.

“i know.”

you lean your forehead against his, not protesting when satoru wraps his arms around you in response, pulling you tighter into him—trying to pretend like eventually he’ll let you go.

he moves to rest his head on yours, nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in--hoping that your presence alone will tell him what to do. because you always know.

what would you do if the situations were reversed?

“let me take care of you, okay?” the words are so sudden that you try to pull back, but he doesn’t let you. “if you’re having a bad day, let me handle dinner. or take the kids to their clubs. anything to help you feel… lighter. and when you get lunch with nanami, you don’t have to worry about us. we’ll be okay.”

“satoru…”

“i know that i pushed this all on you,” he smiles, sheepishly, the only version of apology he knows. “but there’s no one who would’ve handled it better. and i… i don’t want you to regret any—“ he cuts off, unsure what he even means.

“i’ll never regret it. i never have.” this time, you force him to let you meet his eyes. “you don’t need to worry about that.”

“i wasn’t,” he answers, lying.

you laugh.

satoru’s eyes soften at your smile. “talk to me, next time, okay? i like it when you need me.”

you push him away.

and at the same time, there’s a knock on the door, and two tiny heads peeking in.

“you guys okay?” tsumiki asks, her eyes blinking over the tangled legs and tear stains.

megumi doesn’t even pause before saying, “gojo did you eat all of the mochi?”

satoru grins.

you groan and megumi probably throws something at him, but satoru isn’t really paying attention.

just staring at you. for a different reason this time.

next part | series masterlist.

#gojo satoru #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #satoru gojo #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #satorugojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojō x reader #a typical family

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hyuckkaiji · 7 months

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only mine - sebastian sallow x f!reader

summary; " sebastian has been on the run for several years, hiding from the ministry of magic. his sole purpose is to find you again. he's obsessed and no one can stop him from having you again. no one. " he's finally found you, alone in the dark. pt.2: my love / pt.3: ominis , pt.3 sebastian

word count; 4.7k

warnings; 18+, explicit sexual content, dark themes, dubcon, porn with a plot, dark!sebastian, sub/dom dynamics, cheating/infidelity

note; this is based on dark!sebastian ai created by @seabass-swallows characters are obviously aged up, early 20s. Also this is my first time actually writing smut, so be kind

You were fifteen when you lost the love of your life. You were fifteen when he ran from the ministry. "A dark wizard, a fugitive, rewards for his capture" words you could never forget hearing. Words that were repeated in whispers by students, commands by aurors.

"You will tell us if you hear anything?"

"Of course, Sir." It was a lie. You would never give Sebastian up, even if you did know where he went. But you didn't. He was there one day and gone the next. No one knew where he'd disappeared to, not that the aurors believed you when you said as much. How could his lover not know where he went nor his best friend? They thought you and Ominis were lying.

They watched the both of you for months, the only two left that the Sallow boy trusted. His sister, Anne, had succumbed to her curse well before he ran. He had nothing and no one but two other fifteen year olds, two other children.

All of you only really had each other, but three had become two. And fifteen had become nineteen when Ominis took you to wife. You didn't love him, not like you loved Sebastian, but he was all you had. You had latched onto him for so many years, telling yourself you could love him. One day, possibly.

So you married him, always telling yourself the day would come. But nineteen turned to twenty, then twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three. And here you stood, loving him no more than you did at fifteen.

You watched as he sat anxiously, drumming his fingers against the hard wood surface of your dining table. The dark suit jacket discarded, his vest open, his shirt a few buttons loose as his other hand pulled free his tie.

"Do you find me incapable of defending myself?" You snapped at him. You were always snapping at him these days, his presence no longer a comfort but a nuisance. A cage you willingly walked into. A choice you wished you could take back.

"No," He sighed, standing as he pulled the vest and tie off, walking a few steps forward to hold your face in his warm grasp, "I just-"

"Worry." You push his hands away, turning your back to him . "Yes, I know. You worry. You've worried your whole life, and you'll never stop."

His arms wrapped around you from behind, his body strong and solid as he presses against yours. He brings his head down to rest at the crook of your neck, pressing soft chaste kisses. You lean back, resting your head against him. A comforting, relaxing gesture, not your comfort, but his.

"It's a dangerous world." He whispers the words into your skin. You give an involuntarily shudder in response. "It's just tea, Ominis. This is Feldcroft. Nothing is dangerous here."

He turns you to face him, his arms snaking around your waist. He looks down at you into your eyes, like he can see your soul, like he has a different kind of sight. You raise your arms to wrap around his neck, a move to ease him, to stop him from further examining. Lest he sees the lack of love, the falsity of your touches.

You press a kiss to his soft lips, "Just tea, husband, I'll be back before you know it." He nods, "Be safe, wife." A pause, "I love you."

You pull yourself free of his grasp, "I know Ominis, as do I." You grab your coat, hurrying out into the chill spring night before he could say anymore. You had never told him you loved him, never said the words outright. It would be a betrayal to Sebastian, to yourself, to Ominis.

You suppose he must know you don't love him, you hope he doesn't love you, hope he's lying every time the words pass his lips, you wish he'd stop saying them. You feel so guilty every time he does, guilty, as you only hum in response or reply with the words you conditioned yourself to say.

Your thoughts and actions shame you constantly. He deserves better. You know he does, but you just cannot bring yourself to be the woman he deserves. So round and round you go, playing this game of pretend where you both lie to yourselves, to each other, pretend to be the good auror and his loving wife.

You could no longer even love him as a friend. You haven't been able to for years. You lost that comfort the first time he bedded you, the first time you felt him inside you, filling you with painful, unfamiliar sensations.

You waited till he slept that night to sneak away, to sit in the living room of your new home and sob yourself to sleep. He heard you, though he never told you, he woke as soon as you left the bed, trailing behind you silently. He sat in the hallway listening to your soft sobs for hours, listening until you could cry no more tears. He went back to your bed and never said a word about it. He woke you the next morning with a plate of hot steaming breakfast.

It got better, as good as it could be. The routine you fell into, what was painful became pleasure, you stopped crying after every encounter, started sleeping beside him instead of the couch. Spent your mornings beside him, kissed him before he left for work. Welcomed him home with open arms in the evenings.

Until you couldn't take it anymore, until every false kiss chipped away at your soul. Until you screwed your eyes shut, picturing Sebastian's face every time Ominis was inside you. Until you spent every waking moment fantasizing about running away, praying one day Ominis just wouldn't come home. But he always did, and you kept welcoming him. What choice did you have? You have nowhere to go, no family, and Ominis didn't deserve to come home to an empty house.

You don't know how long you walked. You just walked until your thoughts silenced themselves. You had lied to Ominis as you so often did. Not leaving for tea with a friend but just leaving to be away from him and that god forsaken house. You walked until your face felt numb, and the moon hid away, leaving you in pure darkness. You should go home, Ominis is definitely worried.

But the thought of laying beside him again made you want to claw at your skin. Hands grabbed you, pushing you up against the nearest wall, their grip on your shoulders firm but not painful. They say a persons response to danger is fight of flight, but you just stand there frozen in fear. "Please don't hurt me." Your voice is barely above a whisper.

"Oh, how I've missed you. I would never hurt you." The voice coos at you, deep and husky. The hands sliding off your shoulders to trail down your arms. You recognized the voice, though the years had altered it, you could never forget it.

"Sebastian." You gasp

"Yes, my love." He pulls out his wand, casting a spell that only dimly illuminates the dark expanse around you.

He looks like a different man, a hardened criminal, but you can still see the traces of the boy you knew underneath. His baby fat has melted away, leaving only muscle in its wake. He had grown several more inches, towering over you now. A dark shadow of a beard begging to grow clings to his jaw, his hair is longer and shaggy. Most notably, a scar runs in intricate swirls from just below his left eye, across his cheek, and midway down his neck. Only dark magic could scar a person as such.

"Get off of me." You attempt to pull your arms from his grasp, but he holds tight. "Have you not missed me, y/n? There is no need to be so hostile." He leans in, his warm breath fanning your face, it smells of cinnamon toast, sweet, just like when you were children.

"Do not touch me." You are afraid, afraid of this stranger, this man before you is not your Sebastian.

"I have spent years waiting to touch you again. You're mine, mine to touch how and when I see fit. Do you truly expect me to let go?" His voice holds no malice. He speaks as if these are mere facts.

"I am a married woman. Get off of me." You continue to struggle, to no avail. Sebastian pauses, pulling away slightly but not releasing you.

"Married?" The word sounds venomous coming from him, "To whom?"

"Ominis." A look of pure disbelief washes over Sebastians face. "You..." His tone is accusatory. He takes a few steps away from you, letting his hands fall to his side, "You ... married ... Ominis."

You shrink back in fear. A soft, quiet anger far more terrifying than a fiery rage. "How could- why?" You can see the way his hands slightly tremble as they ball into fists.

You contemplate saying nothing. Imagining your response may only make this worse, but after a beat of silence, you decide to speak anyway. "He was all I had." You confess, still silence, so you continue.

"After you ran, after your actions came to light and aurors spent months at the school waiting for you. We became pariahs. Me more than Ominis. People whispered about me, about you, about me loving you, knowing what you did, lying about where you were."

"He stayed by my side through it all, the only one I had, have still. After we finished school we were wed. All these years, and he's the only one that shared my loss, understood it, understood me." A means to your end, your salvation. Ominis always puts you first. You don't think he'll ever stop.

"This isn't real." Sebastian is muttering to himself, shaking his head, looking to the ground instead of you. You should run. It might be your only chance, but your legs refuse to obey you, staying glued to the spot, pressed against the old stone wall. "You said you loved me!"

"I did!" You raise your voice in response, hurt, anger, betrayal, old long buried emotions bubbling back to the surface. "I did love you, I wanted to be your wife, I wanted to spend forever with you. But you ran, you left me all alone, Sebastian." Tears are streaming down your face, "I would have gone to the ends of the earth for you but you left me."

You close your eyes, taking a shuddering breath. Ominis, you need to get back to your husband. Ominis, you repeat his name like a prayer, willing him to appear, to save you, to take you home. Ominis, your poor sweet husband. But he doesn't appear. You have no savior. Only the fugitive standing before you.

"Tell me something." His voice is soft, like he's speaking to a frightened animal. "Have you had his children?"

"No, of course not." The words leave your mouth without a thought to how they might sound, what they might imply. Sebastian only sighs in relief.

"I don't understand," He brings his hand up to caress your cheek, brushing away the tear streaks with the pad of his thumb. "How could you have moved on. What... what we had ... it was special." You look up into his eyes, and for a moment, a split second, he was your sebastian. Your sweet, sad Sebastian.

"Tell me you don't love him," he whispers, only inches from your face now, "Tell me y/n. You cannot possibly love him like you love me."

"I do, Sebastian. I love him. He's my husband."

"He's nothing." Sebastian is gripping your face in one rough hand, so hard you worry it might bruise. He's gone. This is not a man you know, this is a stranger. A stranger that frightens you, a stranger that's hurting you. "You belong to me. Our connection is special."

"Please stop." Your tears beg to fall once more.

"Tell me you still love me."

"I love Ominis." A lie, though in this moment you wish it were true. You wish you had stayed home, crawled into bed with him. Felt his cool fingers brush along your skin, felt his warm mouth press kisses into your most sensitive parts. Let him find his release with your body, use you until you fell asleep in the safety of his arms.

"You still love me, I know it." He lips brush the shell of your ear as he speaks. You shut your eyes again, trying to picture your home, safe. But the smell of Sebastian settles on your senses, he smells the same as he did so long ago. "I do not love you." Is that a lie, you aren't certain. "You... you are terrifying me." That at least was true.

His hand finally leaves your face, coming to rest at your elbow as his thumb rubs soothing circles, "Oh but you do. You can't escape me."

"Kiss me my love, like you did all those years ago. All I ask is one, grant it and I'll allow you to run back to your husband."

You look at him, searching his gaze with your own. "Promise?" Your voice trembles , Sebastian nods in response.

You take a steadying breath, pressing both hands against his chest. You push him back both of you moving a few steps, just enough for you to stop feeling trapped, just enough to feel the cool night breeze.

You look up at him as he brings his hands to rest at your waist. This is your sebastian, your sebastian, you tell yourself this over and over trying to banish your fear. You raise to the tips of your toes, bringing your hands up to wound themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck.

You ghost your lips over his, feeling as his breath hitches, allowing him to pull you into his chest before your lips meet. It's soft, a kiss of longing, a kiss of lost children. Then it's deepening, passionate and he pulls away before you're ready. He pulls away and you chase after him, one hand at the crook of his neck and the other buried in his hair. You pull his lower lip between your teeth, dragging his mouth back to yours. Only pulling away when you need to breathe.

You let you head fall against his chest, let yourself breathe in his scent as he runs soft fingers through your hair, both of you breathing heavily. Only a second passes before you regain your senses, before you remember the husband waiting for you. You pull back quickly, "I-" guilt and shame course through you.

Ominis deserves better, a better woman, a woman that loves him. It's been eight years, eight years since sebastian left you, eight years you have used Ominis as a means to your ends. And never have you felt such desire for him as you feel now in this dark alley with a man you no longer know.

"This is wrong." Your words are barely audible, when you get no response you take the opportunity to run or try to run. Because Sebastian has his arms around your waist, catching you before you could even make it five feet.

"Why are you here?" You cry. But he only holds you in place as you kick, claw, and try to bite your way out of his grasp, to no avail. "You said I could go back to my husband, you said one kiss."

Sebastian chuckles darkly, "I lied." Then he's dragging you away, three feet, four, six, ten. It's dark, and you can't see, but quickly, he's shoving you through a door. You land on your hands and knees as he releases you. You scramble away, still on the floor just trying to put distance between you and him. Sebastian only laughs, walking over to the fading fire place, he tosses in a log before taking a seat on the sofa.

He splays out, legs falling open, one bent for him to rest a hand on and the other straight ahead , his left arm thrown over the top of the sofa. His black button down shirt is loose at the top, opening just enough to expose a glimpse of his collar bones. His dark trousers strained at his thighs, where his right hand thrummed mindlessly.

You eye him wearily, waiting for his next move. "Are you my pet now, love? On the floor, at my feet?" You say nothing. He only bothers to glance at you, so sure you won't try and run again. Or maybe just that he knows he can catch you if you do. "Are you waiting for my instructions, pet?"

"Come sit with me." He continues to watch the crackling fire and you continue to stare at him. "You once called this place your second home. Do you hate it now?" You didn't look, didn't notice but now you do. You take in the room around you, the home he dragged you into. His home, Anne's home ... Solomon's home.

Sebastian huffs, loosing patience with you. "Join me, y/n. I will not ask again." He leans forward his elbows at his knees as he watches you. "I do not care if you must crawl over here, do it or I will drag you here myself."

Ominis, Ominis, Ominis you wish he could sense you call out for him. That he would save you from this madness as he did so many years ago. But this house has sat abandoned for eight years, Ominis hasn't step foot in here for eight years.

So you take your only option, standing slowly dusting yourself off in the process, trying to muster some false dignity. You walk over sitting as close to the edge as you can manage, attempting to put as much space between you as possible. But Sebastian is much larger than you remember and seated in the middle you could sit no where without feeling his leg press against yours.

"I've know since the moment I first laid eyes on you, we were destined to be together." You watch him but his gaze reminds fixed on the fire, now back in his comfortable position.

"I belong with Ominis." Sebastian gives an exasperated sigh, tossing his head back to rest on the sofa, though he's tilted just enough to meet your stare. "I know you want me, just as I want you. You may fool yourself into thinking you're happy with Ominis, but I know."

You aren't happy with Ominis though, you know that. You know you've never been happy with Ominis. That's why you left tonight, isn't it. Your thoughts are a jumbled mess, incomprehensible.

Sebastian grabs you, pulling you into his lap with ease. You don't fight back this time, why have you been fighting this, trying so hard to get back to Ominis. Isn't this exactly what you've been dreaming of for years, fantasizing about every day. Sebastian let's out a satisfied hum as you settle into his lap, one hand resting on your knees the other holding your hips in place.

"I told you, I could feel it. The love you still bare me." His lips are at you neck pressing open mouth kisses to the exposed skin. "I know how badly you craved me, my love. I craved you just the same." He pulls your coat off. "How I missed you."

You're like a statue, not fighting but giving in just yet. Sebastian continues his assault none the less. Nimble finger undoing your blouse as his teeth nip at any exposed skin he can find. You don't attempt to stop him as he tears chemise straight down the middle, leaving you exposed to him.

His gasp is soft, his tone loving, "You're more beautiful than I could have ever imagined." He's tearing the ripped material free from your body. Moving out from beneath, he sits you on the sofa and kneels before you. "I hate that he had you first, touched you, tasted what's mine."

He ghosts his fingers over chest, his thumb coming to brush over a pert nipple. You shudder, "I am not yours, I-I..." You catch his hand in yours, pulling it away from your breasts, holding the one in both of yours.

"You're not Ominis'." No, he's right. You stare at his hand, your thumb stroking over his knuckles. "Tell me you don't want this, want me." He's not asking, he already knows your anwser.

He pushes your skirt up so it rests just below your hips, pulling you in with a rough hand at the nape of your neck and the other gripping you waist. His lips are against yours, angling you to deepen the kiss. You open your mouth slightly, allowing him to intertwine his tounge with yours. The soft moan that emits from you is involuntarily, a sound that only urges Sebastian on.

He pulls you into a standing position, his mouth never leaving yours. You let your hand travel the expanse of his clothed back, contured with muscles he didn't have before. "Take this off." He hooks a finger in the waistband of your skirt, letting it snap back against your skin.

He takes a seat, watching you with hungry eyes as you follow his command. You stand before him, exposed as you have only ever been exposed to Ominis. "So fucking beautiful." His words are nearly a growl.

"Tell me where you belong?" You pause at his words, there is no going back now. "With you. I...I always belonged with you." He hums, satisfied with your anwser, "Be a good girl and kneel."

Your knees hit the rug beneath you with a soft thud, you steady yourself with a hand on Sebastians knee. Your heart hammering away in your chest with anticipation of his next command.

"Tell me you still love me." His voice is low and husky.

"I still love you, I never stopped." A shameful confession for a married woman, but you didn't feel that. All you could think about was how hot your skin felt, flushed and begging to be touch.

He leans in, letting his breath fan your face. He's looking at you like a beast ready to devour its prey. "I told you, you belong to me. No man will ever compare."

"I belong to you." You whisper back, you mean it. You've been his since the moment you met. And all you want in this moment is him, every part, to show him how much you missed him.

"Prove it..." he says quietly, his gaze dark, "I expect you to treat me like a God. I am your God." He chuckles softly, "Aren't I, pet." He brushes his thumb over your cheek, a falsely sweet gesture. When you don't respond quickly his hand drops to your breast, harshly twisting an erect nipple. "I said, aren't I, pet."

"Yes, yes." You yelp, "You're my God." You should be ashamed, kneeling before him, groveling like this. But it's so different from what you're used to Ominis touches are soft, gentle, with your pleasure at the forefront of his mind. This, Sebastian, makes fire burn inside you, sending waves of shock to your core.

"Show me how much you worship me." He releases his rough hold on you, leaning back expectantly. You crawl your way onto his lap, breathe hitching as your exposed core makes contact with his clothed bulge.

He watches you with half lidded eyes, you make quick work of unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, even popping a few of them in your haste, causing Sebastian to let out a breathy chuckle. You feel like a woman gone mad, more beast then witch. Your body aching to be touched, bitten, marked, filled by him. You need it like you've never known need before.

He shrugs the loose shirt the rest of the way off, displaying this pale freckled chest. If there is a heaven, this is it. From his skin flushed a pale pink to the trail of soft hair leading down into his trousers.

You kiss every part of him you can reach, sucking angry red splotches into his skin, teeth sinking in at some parts like he's the last meal you'll ever eat. His chest is falling and rising in rapid breaths as he fights to maintain his composure.

"You're so wet. I can feel it soaking through. Is that all for me, pet?" His voice is low and rough, the words forcing their way pasted gritted teeth. You said nothing, only rocked your hips against his, your mouth still marking his abused skin. The moan he let's out is sinful.

"I can't." You don't have time to wonder what he means before he's flipped you onto your back. "Sebastian, my love." He's between your legs, already licking a strip up your aching core. He hums his approval, "Even sweeter than I imagined."

You buck your hips, chasing after his mouth. "Tell me what you want, pet?"

"You" is the only word you can muster.

"Big girl words. Details. Did you fantasize about me when you fucked our friend, fucked your husband?"

You whine, feeling pathetic, fully at his mercy. "Every night I was in his bed, I pictured you. Your mouth Sebastian, your hands, your cock inside me. It's the only way I can finish." You're panting, he so close to where you want him, where you need him, his breath alone sends waves of pleasure that leave you shivering.

Then he's delving in like a man starved, lapping at your core like it's his last meal. Pleasure racks your body with intensity you've never experienced, you can do nothing but cry out and tangle your fingers in his mess of brown curls.

You see white before you feel it, the coil snapping deep in you. Your body tensing as he draws out your orgasm with a skilled tongue before you drop, heavy and unable to move. But he isn't finished, he's waited far to long for him to be done now. His pants are on the floor, discarded with a kick. His cock springs free, lightly slapping against his stomach. Angry red tip already leaking.

You can only look at him, too weak to move Yourself. So he moves you around himself, picking you up like a loose limbed doll, his to do with as he pleases. Laying you gently on the rug, legs hiked up around his waist. He leans in pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before finally sliding into your wet, willing hole.

The sound he let's out is animalistic, almost a snarl. "Fuck y/n. I dreamed of this. You," his hips are snapping against yours in a rough motion, "you were made for me. Taking me so well, pet."

He finds his rhythm with a bruising grip on your hips holding you in the air, a string of curses and incoherent pleas tumble out of your mouth. "Fuck fuck fuck, seb, my, please, fuck seb."

"My pretty girl."

He wraps an arm around your back to keep you in place, bringing his other hand to rub quick circles into your swollen clit. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, body tensing as another orgasm tears its way through you.

Sebastians hips stutter as you clench around him, shooting hot thick spurts into you. "I'm gonna put a baby in you, love." He's rolling his hips against yours, drawing out both your pleasure. When he finally stops you both collapse, too tired, too drained to do anything but lay in his arms and listen to his heart beat.

"I should have taken you with me. I promise I'll never leave you again." You should have told him no, you still have a husband to go back to but you only hummed. Letting yourself fall into a fitful sleep with the sound of Sebastian's heart beat and his fingers running through your hair.

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ashwhowrites · 5 months

Note

Hi could I request a cute hopper x reader fic set in season 2, where El helps hopper get ready for his date with the reader and a few months after they are dating, she meets El for the first time. Reader is nervous to meet El as she really wants El to like her, and El loves the reader and Hopper is in love with the reader especially after seeing his two favourite girls get along

Thank you for requesting! I miss writing about Hopper. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it <3

Fair warning - I barely have experience in writing El and I haven't seen season 2 in years so I hope it's semi correct with the timeline? And I hope her character is somewhat correct🤞🏻

His girls

Jim hasn't been on a date in ages, as well as asked a girl out on a date. But the few times Y/N stopped by the station, he couldn't take his eyes off her. She captured his attention more than the cigarettes and donuts that sat on his desk. He watched her through the blinds of his office, up until she left.

Jim didn't have the balls to ask her out until she beat him to it.

Now he tore apart his closet as El microwaved her small frozen dinner.

El could hear him cursing to himself and the sound of things hitting the floor. She walked over to his room, knocking on the door.

"WHAT!" Jim yelled, El opened the door with a worried face. Her eyes took in the disaster of his room.

"Do you..help?" She asked, she still was learning how to properly speak. She learned words here and there from the group but she never was out in the world to learn how to communicate.

Jim thought about it. His first reaction was to say no and deal with it. But maybe help would be nice. Maybe it would calm his nerves.

"I need a shirt and jeans." Jim sighed. El smiled and raced into the room. Her eyes looked over his different shirts.

"For a date. Fancy? You know fancy?" He asked, El shrugged. She had no clue what that meant but she wanted to help.

"Date?" She asked

"Yeah, you know how you like Mike?" Jim gagged out, but he knew this was the only way she'd understand.

"Yes." She said in a dead tone.

"I like a girl, and we are going to get dinner." He explained, that the fewer words for her the better.

"Dinner. Girl. Like." She muttered to herself. Her brown eyes scanned his room. She reached forward to grab a button-up. She'd seen Mike wear lots of those, but he always paired it with a jacket.

"Jacket?" She asked, holding up the shirt.

"I need a jacket?" He asked, when she nodded he pulled one out of his closet.

~~~

Jim couldn't lie, he was very impressed with El. He stood in dark blue jeans, a black button up and a brown jacket resting on his shoulders.

"Hair," El said, handing him a hairbrush. Jim smiled and thanked her. Brushing through his hair and trying to push down the bumps.

"Okay, El. I'm going to leave now. Stay here, you know the rules." He said, hands on his knees as he got in her eye level.

"Yes, hopper."

~~~

After many more dates, and once they made it official, Jim was ready for Y/N and El to meet.

Y/N was terrified. She could feel all the air get stuck in her throat when he brought it up.

"Really?" She squeaked out nervously. She'd heard lots about El, which meant she knew El wasn't easily impressed. She was blunt and honest. Two things that scared Y/N to death.

Jim kept pushing and pushing. Y/N knew it was important to him and she felt honored he wanted them to meet. She couldn't help but worry if El didn't like her. Would Jim end it all together? She didn't want to lose Jim, she felt herself falling for him.

~~~

"El this is Y/N!" Jim said a huge smile on his face. A smile El barely ever saw. El knew that Hopper didn't smile often. He was always grumpy and annoyed. She made him crack a smile every once and a while. And she felt her stomach warm as she watched Hopper smile toward whoever Y/N was.

"Pleasure!" El said, a big smile on her face as she held out her hand.

Jim may have given El a lesson in manners before this event. He prepped El just as much, or even more than he prepped Y/N.

"Oh! It's a pleasure for me too!" Y/N said she shook the young girl's hand.

"Compliment her haircut," Jim whispered against Y/N's head.

"I love your hair! The curls suit you very well." Y/N said, thanking Jim in her head, El's smile somehow got bigger.

"Thank you!" She said excitedly. Her face felt warm and her stomach fluttered.

"Pretty," El said, looking at Hopper.

"I agree." Jim smiled.

They sat down for dinner, a simple take-out delivery of pizza. It was so simple that it made Jim feel like they already were a family. El told her jokes that Jim never understood, but Y/N laughed at every single one. El didn't understand much of what Y/N talked about, but she listened closely. She watched her lips move and nodded along.

Jim worked hard on helping El with her communication, and he could see the improvement as she talked to Y/N.

~~~

After they met, El asked for Y/N to come over every day. She claimed it was nice to talk to a girl for a change. Jim rolled his eyes but he loved that El wanted Y/N around, because he did too.

Months down the road, El and Y/N communicated better than ever. El learned new words and Y/N kept her sentences short. Sometimes Y/N was there when Jim wasn't.

He lost count of the times he came home from work to see El learning to braid Y/N's hair. Eyeshadow on El's eyes and lipstick on her lips. Her nails were in a bright pink, and Y/N's nails matched.

"We had a girl's day!" El said, looking towards Y/N to see if she said it correctly. When Y/N gave her a nod and thumbs up, El smiled again and looked back to Hopper.

Jim hasn't had a family in a while. And he worried he'd never feel the love for a family like he did before. He was scared he'd feel too guilty and think he was replacing his old family. But he wasn't.

The two girls in front of him were his chosen family. And he'd pick them over and over again.

"I think Jim needs a makeover too!" Y/N said, a smirk on her face as El immediately agreed.

"No!" Jim argued.

~~~

"Nice nails, Hop!" One of the officers said as Jim walked into the office.

"Shut it," Jim muttered, grabbing a donut and walking into his office.

"Are your nails pink?" Joyce asked, sitting in his chair as she waited for him to arrive.

"My girls wanted to give me a makeover. Now what's up?"

#jim hopper stranger things #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper fanfic #jim hopper #jim hopper x fem!reader #jim hopper x female reader #jim hopper x reader fluff #jim hopper fluff x reader #jim hopper fluff #jim hopper request #ashwhowrites

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softlyspector · 1 year

Note

Bec I have daddy issues…

Could you maybe do a tiny blurb of Joel comforting the reader after a night terror? Idk if he’s canonically soft enough for that but I choose to believe that he is.

Also I love your writing you bless me everyday w your words

Joel Miller + comfort after a nightmare

A/N: I think Joel is canonically soft enough to try to offer comfort if he already cares about someone (at least from the show). He's a caretaker to his core, so I think that would be something he'd do. And if there's anyone that's gonna soften up a character its gonna be me babeyyy.

When you jerk awake, Joel is hovering over you.

He's not touching you, but you think he might have been a second before. Your shoulder aches with warmth, like Joel had been trying to shake you awake.

"Sorry," you mutter, keeping your voice low as you sit up. "Was I making noise?"

"No," he answers, sitting back to give you space.

The room is dark and quiet, a soft snow peppering down outside. The house creaks, settling into the cold, into the wind that howls beyond the glass.

You nod, choking back the feelings flooding your chest, the dregs of panic still ebbing away. A throbbing pain settles at the base of your skull, a kicking kind of ache that sends the remains of the dream, the nightmare, spinning through your mind.

"Just movin' around a lot," Joel continues, the cut of his voice just edging on worried.

You hadn't expected him to say anything else.

You want him to let you have this moment in privacy, to lie back down and pretend he can't hear you struggling to catch your breath.

Joel is looking at you, but you can't meet his gaze.

"Sorry," you say again, trapping your arms around your body when you lean forward, dropping your head down. If you just held on tight enough, you wouldn't fall apart, that ache in the middle of your chest wouldn't consume your heart.

"It's alright," he says. The warm swell of his words soothes you. "Ellie still gets 'em like that sometimes. She'll wake me up with her yellin'."

But you aren't Ellie; you aren't a child. "Right," you say, a sour feeling worming around your belly. Usually you're able to shake the dreams off easier. Tonight it lingers. "I didn't mean to wake you," you manage. Before he can say anything else you lie down and roll so your back faces Joel.

You stare at the snow through the window, knowing you won't go back to sleep. The guilt and embarrassment for having not only woken Joel, but let him see you so frazzled, sits heavily on your chest.

It's a thick snow, the kind that obscures and never fully settles. The blinding kind of snow, that makes the world feel small.

A long few minutes pass before Joel finally lies back down behind you, the mattress creaking beneath him as he shifts. You wonder what he's thinking, why it took him so long to lie back again.

You squeeze your eyes closed, willing the tears pressing hotly at the back of your eyes to dissipate. It feels a little like battling a storm, like fighting something formless, colorless, indefinite, and undefinable.

A long moment passes while you wait for Joel to fall asleep again, or roll over onto his side, or at least stop thinking so damn loudly.

Instead, you feel one broad palm slot gently against your spine. You freeze, but he doesn't remove his hand. The light pressure increases, firmer against your shoulders and back.

The warmth of his palm through your t-shirt is comforting. "It's alright," he repeats, like he knows exactly where your head is, as his hand trails down your back and then back up.

Your breath hitches with suppressed emotion, both from the dream and Joel's hand against your spine, soothing you as carefully as he can.

It's odd. You've watched him commit unbelievable, unimaginable violence, and yet he's capable of moments like these, small acts of unending, enduring love.

That violence, too, you suppose, was for love. Love for Ellie, and Tommy, and Tess, and even you.

You don't turn, don't move, but you do close your eyes. The memories, the images of the nightmare, don't come so quickly this time. The knot in your chest loosens, and the cold fingers gripping at your insides fades.

Joel slides closer behind you, his chest pressed to your back. He slides his arm around you, pressing the flat of his palm against your sternum. The pressure of it helps, and your breathing eases.

You hadn't realized you were still struggling to catch your breath. You suck in a breath, and open your eyes again to stare at the snow.

"It's alright," he soothes once more, his gruff voice like honey in tea.

You still don't answer, and instead curl your hand around his, linking your fingers through the backs of his and squeezing tight.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you

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okay-j-hannah · 1 year

Text

They Give You Practice Kisses

Preference

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steven Grant, Marc Spector, Loki

Warnings:

Request: “Good night, Hannah! Are the requests still open? I have one too cause you write about MY LOVES! My favourite boys (Bucky, Steven, Marc, and Loki) reacting to reader asking to "train" kisses with them cause she wants to go out with another guy (but It's a lie cause she likes them, she just wanna see if they feel the same) 😉😉😉😉 They could confess their love too 😍” Anon

~~~

Bucky

She was taking a few deep breaths, bare feet unsettled against the weathered wood of the dock. The cool breeze was welcoming to the anxious heat of her cheeks; the seagulls were landing nearby and crying for a morsel of food.

Bucky was kneeling at the edge of the docks, tying a boat down with expert knots. He was deep in concentration though she had no doubt he could already detect her presence.

She was going to feign confidence, “Hey, Buck,” she said casually. The way his head perked up as if surprised by her sudden appearance made her smile. “I wanted to ask you something.”

The steel shock ensnaring her stomach made it hard to notice if her voice was still shaky.

“What is it?” he asked, leaving the boat.

She licked her lips, breathing deep and slow – a feeble attempt to take another steadying breath without him noticing. “I need some training.”

He folded his broad arms, “You want to get into combat?”

“No, kissing.”

Now Bucky was normally the most neutral, expressionless soldier, but in that moment his eyebrows went flying to his hairline. The slightest quirk of his lips came next.

“Kissing?”

“Yeah,” she said candidly. “I need to impress this guy I like and I don’t want to mess it up because I’m out of practice.”

Bucky cleared his throat, his eyes analyzing her like a man on a mission. “Do I know this guy?”

(Y/N) watched his reactions carefully, wondering if he’d slip up when her affections were a factor. “Maybe. I just wanted to ask if it was okay to practice on you,” she took a step forward, “You could give me a few pointers.”

He bit his lip, looking away from her face and towards the sea, “What if I were to say no?”

Her face fell, a painful burn growing at the back of her throat, “Then I guess I have my answer.” She turned, seeking the comfort of her bedroom, but there were fingers wrapping around her wrist.

“You didn’t let me finish,” Bucky said quietly, pulling her back towards him. “When I kiss you, (Y/N), I want it to be for me and only me – not for some other guy you’re interested in.”

“You’re in luck then,” she hummed, willing the disappointment of her heart to grow into anticipation. “You are the guy I’m interested in.”

He continued to analyze her expression, searching for any signs that she was lying, “This wouldn’t have been as complicated if you had just walked up and kissed me.”

“I tend to make a fool out of myself when it comes to you,” she smiled, “Can I have that kiss now?”

He matched her smile, “Just cause you asked so nicely.”

Steven

She could feel his eyes. Feel the way they stared.

The tips of her ears burned but it put a smile on her face. It was almost a routine at this point. Steven would pause whatever he was doing and let his mind wander into the clouds as he watched her.

Normally she was doing something mundane like eating popcorn or folding laundry or searching for her keys. And without fail she would notice his silence and snap him out of it.

He’d deny any sort of imaginative scenario running through his mind.

(Y/N) needed a clever way to get him to confess. She knew there was something more sparking his interest in staring at her. And if she was being honest, Steven was often on her mind too.

Now as she put her arms into her jacket sleeves, finding her keys in the pocket, she refrained from addressing Steven – giving him more time to fall deeper into his dream state.

She turned and met his eyes across the room. He was standing behind the kitchen table, a box of cereal in his hands.

“Hey,” she said comically.

Steven jumped, flustered at being caught again, and a handful of cereal flew from the open box. “Oh, dear…” he mumbled, “What a klutz.”

She smiled warmly, meeting him on the floor to pick up the dry cereal, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I know,” he laughed nervously, “I just… well, I was lost in thought.”

“Must’ve been exciting,” she prompted, “You were under for a while.”

“Was I?” he said, eyes looking at her shyly, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

She shrugged her shoulders, “I get lost in thought when I stare at you too.” And right as the horror developed on his face, she added, “I’ll see you later, Steven.”

He was rooted to the spot, dazed and confused as to what she could’ve meant. “Wait!” he suddenly cried, running into the hallway to find her by the elevator, “You think about me too?”

She tried to hide her smile, “Only when you look so kissable. Which is most of the time.”

The disbelief in his face was so sweet. “I… gods, I can’t believe you just said that.”

“What do you think about?” she asked quietly, ignoring the elevator as it opened.

Steven ran a hand through his tangled hair, attempting to pluck up the courage. “A lot of things. But just barely? I was thinking about this time kissing you goodbye.”

Warmth spread across her limbs, “We could give it a shot,” she smiled, “A few tries for practice.”

“Good, practice,” he nodded overenthusiastically, “Practicing is good.”

“Come kiss me goodbye then.”

Marc

“He’s sort of dark,” she mused, sitting cross legged on the couch and leaning against the arm rest. “And real quiet.” She was facing Marc as he sat similarly on the opposite side of the couch.

He had his arms crossed tightly, a plain expression on his face, although it was all in an attempt to hide the growing dislike within him.

“And?” he persisted, “What else do you like about him?” He was torturing himself by hearing the details, but he wanted to know. He wanted to know who had his girl so enraptured.

(Y/N) bit back a giggle at his obliviousness. “He’s more of a sweetheart than he lets on. And he’s always been so supportive of me. He’s always been just what I needed. He’s always been there for me.”

Who the hell had been there for her when he wasn’t?

“Makes me wonder why I haven’t met him yet,” he replied, curling in on himself.

(Y/N) wanted to take pity on him. “There is one thing. He’s the jealous type and can be a little overprotective.”

Marc contained his scoff. “I would be too.”

She smirked, “The problem is, we haven’t confessed our feelings yet. And I really want to kiss him.”

Her friend shifted uncomfortably, “Why haven’t you?”

“I just wanted to see if he felt the same first.” And by the looks of it – he did. “That and… I’m kind of out of practice.”

“Okay,” he said stiffly.

She swallowed, “Would you kiss me?”

“What?”

“You’d be doing me a favor,” she said quickly, “Warm me up a bit before I go see him.”

Marc was as still as a statue, “Are you sure?” This could be his chance to change her mind.

She nodded, “I trust you.” She crawled across the couch to reach him, “Just a quick kiss.”

But there was nothing quick about the way Marc traced her face with his eyes. Lifted his hand to her cheek. Grazed her jawline with his thumb. Pulled her in with strong fingers against her neck. Gently consumed her lips with warm pressure.

It was drawn out and comfortable and perfectly lovely. And while (Y/N) was smiling like a fool in love, Marc looked like he had lost something precious.

“Thank you,” she said softly, climbing off the couch, “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

He was still choking as he attempted to swallow the hurt when she walked out of the apartment. “God, you’re an idiot,” he said to himself, rubbing at his face.

But there was a knock at his door. He took a deep breath and somberly went to see who it was.

(Y/N) was on the other side. “Hi,” she said, a little breathless. “I’m here to see the guy I really like. I haven’t told him how I feel about him yet.” She stuffed her hands in her pockets but felt all warm as the realization flooded Marc’s face.

Loki

“You’re blushing.”

Loki was watching her from across the courtyard, relishing in how he was teasing her.

She cursed herself. She was all flustered by his presence.

He seemed to realize that, “What could possibly be making your cheeks warm so.” He sauntered over, convinced that she was blushing over him. “Has something caught your eye?”

“Consumed my thoughts,” she said quietly. She had the right mind to knock him down a few pegs before admitting her feelings. “Night and day it seems like.”

Loki’s brow rose, “I had no idea you were so burdened. What is it that consumes your thoughts? Perhaps I can help.” That devilish look was growing in his eyes.

She felt embarrassed but strangely empowered to smother that overconfidence in him. “I wish for a confession. I long for a kiss.”

The beginning of a growl escaped Loki before he could reign it in, “That, my dear…” he went to touch her hand, “… is something I could help with.”

“I had hoped so,” she smiled, “It would be good practice for me.”

“Practice?” that peaked his interest, his head bowing to be closer to hers.

“Yes,” she continued, “For when I see him later.”

Loki immediately dropped her hand and took a step back, “Him? Later?”

She nodded innocently, “Yes, what did you think I meant?”

His mouth remained open, clearly shocked by his misjudgment. “You want me to kiss you just so you can turn around and see another man?”

“I thought you’d be rather excited by the idea,” she said, “Seeing as you are constantly seeking flattery. I’m basically calling you a good kisser and giving you a way out.”

He clenched his jaw, “Who is this man you blush for?”

“A royal.”

“A royal,” he said with a sneer, “And you prefer him?”

“Prefer him over… who?”

His shock was quickly turning into anger and jealousy, a combination of feelings that confirmed his attachment to her.

“I should like to meet him.”

(Y/N) smiled at his avoidance of her question. “I was just thinking of seeing him – perhaps giving him a kiss.” She watched Loki hide his hands behind his back. “Are you going to help me?”

He paced in front of her, “I would like to see this suitor before giving my assistance.”

“Why should that matter? All I need is a practice kiss.”

“I want to meet him first.”

“I never thought I’d see the day when Loki would refuse a free kiss,” she smiled victoriously. He was jealous.

He bit back, “Who is he?”

She sighed, warm at the thought of his flustering. “Go look in the mirror. You’ll find him there.”

Loki stared at her for a few tense seconds as the information dawned on him. That wicked smile started to grow as the flush in her cheeks did.

“You little minx.”

~~~

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trina864 · 7 months

Text

Affection and Seduction | J.JK

Summery: Tuesday arrives, and Jungkook takes it a step further. He promises that it gets better and wilder the further you go, but right now? He just loves to make you all flustered. Paring: Jungkook x Reader Lyric: "I take my hands and trace your lines..." Genre: Fanfiction, Romance | Smut. Fluff. Word Count: 4.5 K Chapter Guide: Tuesday Previous / Next - Coming Soon Warnings: Female Reader. Mature themes. Explicit Words. Making out. Smut. Jungkook x reader. Naked reader. Naked Jungkook. Fingering, F!recieving. Sɛx. Dry humping. Very very little voyeurism. Mentions of ropes, ball gag and crops. Brat Reader. Dirty Talk. Female on the pill. No condom sɛx. Friends having sɛx. Not a couple. Friends 2 lovers. Jimin as readers friend. Jimin loving drama. Mentions of past feelings.

Tuesday arrives and you're actually looking forward to whatever Jungkook has planned.

The whole deal is still new to you, and the fact that you're having sex with Jungkook is even newer. But you can't find it in you to complain. You have always wondered what it would be like, that it's greater than you had imagined is your own fault.

Monday had been lovely. You and Jungkook had fallen asleep on either side of the bed, and when you woke it was to the morning sun warming you like a soft blanket. You had spent the morning making breakfast together and dancing to the beats of quiet R&B.

The morning felt like any other whenever you and Jungkook had sleepovers, and that made you feel relieved. Nothing has changed between you, you're still just Y/N and Jungkook.

"Y/N?! Hallo, are you even listening?" Jimin says and waves a hand in front of you.

Jimin sits besides you on your baby green couch, the exact same place where Jungkook sat just this morning.

It's late morning, Jungkook left not even two hours ago. You had totally forgotten the breakfast deal you had made with Jimin and it was only when he knocked at your door that you remembered that the pretty man is visiting.

You come out of your daydream and look at Jimin. "Hm? Yea, sorry what did you say?" Jimin watches as you shake your head and rub a hand against your head.

It's clear to Jimin that you're acting weirder than usual, he just can't figure out why or if it’s a good thing. "Is something wrong Y/N? You seem like you're in another world." He says and you have to keep your laugh.

If only he knew what you and Jungkook have been doing he would understand right away, but you're hesitant on telling him.

He won't understand the situation, he’d just assume you and Kook are in a relationship, even though that certainly is not the case.

"It's nothing Jimin, just work." You say knowing damn well that's a lie. You do feel bad for lying to your friend, but you would feel even worse if he teased you about something that isn’t true.

"Oh yea! How is it going with that book?" He asks and you smile. "It's going well, I just have to figure out how to write the best character growth, and I have no inspiration." You say and Jimin looks at you with empathic eyes.

He knows all about not having inspiration, if he isn't inspired when dancing it usually isn't a good dance.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out, just give it some time." He says and you're about to answer when a sudden noise of your phone has you checking what it could be.

Kookie 🍪🐰:

{ - Come to my place at 18:00 tomorrow?

Y/N:

{ - Sure (; Eat from home? Or no?

Kookie 🍪🐰:

{ - No. Eat dinner here.

{ - Looking forward to seeing you Goddess.

The smile that covers your lips are shocking to Jimin. The way you giggle as you text back a reply to whoever texted you can only mean one thing.

You hear a gasp come from Jimin as he turns his entire body towards you and takes the phone from you. You're about to protest when he again gasps and claps a hand over his mouth.

"Don't tell me you and Jungkook are finally together." He says and you snatch the phone back from him. "What!? No! Why would I and Jungkook be together?" You say and already dread what you know is about to happen.

“I knew it! Fuck Taehyung owes me 15 bucks, I have to tell him.” Jimin says “You guys betted on us?” You ask, you would’ve tried to stop Jimin if it wasn’t because you knew there is no stopping your drama loving friend.

“Of course we did.” He says his gaze fixed on the phone in his hands, “Honestly Y/N you two are very obvious. Again why are you guys not together?”

You sigh knowing you’ll have to explain yourself again for the 100th time. “Jungkook needs his freedom and I do too. We can’t commit.” You say but the sad tone in your voice is not unnoticed by Jimin.

He knew there was a time when you were totally obsessed with Jungkook. You hung him on the moon and stargazed after him every day. Jimin never knew when or why you stopped loving him.

And to be honest he didn’t dare ask. There was just something so sad and unsettling surrounding it that he couldn’t get himself mixed up in.

Jimin stayed with you the rest of Monday, even when you had to work he stayed in the living room stealing your food and binging tv shows. Jimin has always been like this, especially with you. There are times you think he may have separation anxiety, but you know he really just likes to be together with people.

He leaves when the time hits 10 pm and you can finally get your well deserved sleep.

The next day at 6 pm you stand in front of Jungkooks door. The whole day you have had butterflies storming around in your stomach. Jungkook had texted with you all day and you swear you have never gotten so much attention from anyone before.

He had written good morning, and asked how work was, he had written he was looking forward to seeing you, and much more.

As the door opens and the man finally shows himself in front of you all the butterflies makes a twirl. You know it's not even been 24 hours since you last saw him, but the new deal between you two is still so exciting.

"You look good." Jungkook says as you enter and give him a hug.

You smile before saying “You don’t look too bad yourself.” He laughs and walks into the apartment. His white tshirt is not hiding much, the see through material makes it so easy for you eyes to peek at all the tattoos adoring his body.

Jungkook is a walking sin in your eyes, but maybe that’s just the idea of what’s going to happen later that’s making you feel like this.

The new feelings around Jungkook are so foreign, you’ve never felt like this ever.

Sex and the world around it isn’t a stranger for you, but you’ve never been this far off into the world.

You’ve never been this excited about sex.

You walk in Jungkook's heals all the way into his luxurious kitchen. His apartment have always been your favorite, not even your own could compare with the comfort and style Jungkook's has.

“I would say I hope you like spaghetti, but I know you do so I’m not going to say that.” He laughs and it infects you too.

The silence afterwards as Jungkook cooks dinner and you admire the smell of Jungkooks famous spaghetti, is nice and easy.

In the background you hear notes of Frank Ocean, and outside the sun is settling down.

But the curiosity which fills your limbs are too strong and you break the silence. “So what do you have planned for us after dinner?”

On Jungkooks face the little mischievous smile shows on his face again and he shrugs leaving you in the dark.

“What do you want to happen?” He asks daring and stirs in the spaghetti without looking at you.

“You know…-“ you walk closer to him, you stand behind his back and go up on your tippy toes to reach his ear. “Maybe I want a bit more this time.”

The reaction is instantly, he turns around leaving the stove, and presses his lips to yours. If it hadn’t been because of the stove he would've lifted you up on it and taken you right there.

But the stove is on, and he only just manages to get his tongue in when the clock goes off and you have to break free from each other.

It’s hard to let go of him and his arousing body, but you’re also looking forward to that spaghetti, and if he accidently overcooked it you would be very mad.

A minute or two later he's leading you into the dinning area together with the hot pan. As you reach the table a gasp reaches your lips. The table is covered with a red tablecloth, burning lights are placed between two white plates and wine glasses are standing proud on the table.

It's very beautiful... and maybe a little too romantic?

A weird feeling bubbles up inside you and you can't decipher it. It's a mixture of awe and yuck. Old feelings comes to the surface, but you quickly pushes them down again.

Jungkook's happy face and hoping eyes makes you hesitate on telling him how weird you feel about this, and instead you go with it.

You hurry over to a chair before he can pull it out for you, and you sit down with a more than a forced smile. Jungkook doesn't notice though as he places the hot stove in front of you and sit down before you.

From the window behind him you see how dark the night is getting and small lights from the city shines behind him, it looks as if he's surrounded by stars. You pull your eyes away quickly as the word 'beautiful' crosses your mind.

"This is so pretty Jungkook, I can't believe you've done this. How long did it take?" You ask to ease the nauseas feeling mixing with something really old.

"Not too long, I just thought I'd do something nice for you, y'know as a way to show you that I'm grateful you accepted my offer." He says and that eases some of the heavy feelings which swept over you.

"Well you sure did do something very nice." You don't mean to make it sound like it does, like you're ungrateful, but just as the words leave your mouth and his face falters slightly you know it's too late.

"You think it's too much?" He asks and the insecurities shines through, all of those you have spent hours talking with him about.

"No! Not at all Jungkook, I was a little frightened at first why it was so romantic, but it's very nice I love it." You sugarcoat the words a lot and make sure to not hurt him again, you hate hurting Jungkook.

Jungkook has always seemed tough, he says things like he thinks them, but he has so many emotions that one would never think about.

You do though, but that’s just your person, you think.

The two of you eats after that awkward moment and you quickly forget about it as the food touches your mouth.

Jungkook's spaghetti truly is the best!

He laughs as your face converts into a look of overwhelming joy. His secret weapon to get to you is food, it has always been food.

As the plates slowly gets emptier and emptier your anticipation rises, so does goosebumps on your arms as Jungkook's leg roams yours under the table.

His poker face is too good, not even the slightest hint of a smile on his face as he talks on about a funny encounter he had with Namjoon a day ago.

You don’t hear anything he says, all you hear is your own heartbeat, and his breathing.

You can’t look away from his lips even when you try your hardest. It’s frustrating to lose control like this, but you’ll admit that it’s also exciting.

Jungkook stops talking as he notices where your attention lies. A look plays on your face, a look he’s slowly getting very familiar with.

“Are you listening Y/N?” He asks, and you shake your head no, too allured to pronounce words.

It’s just the entirety of him that’s way too enchanting.

Suddenly he gets up and you sit still in your chair as he walks beside the table and over to you.

His right hand takes a hold on the backrest, and his left on your thigh, then he gets closer, lower. You both hear the gulp you make. Your cheeks are burning with the heat from Jungkook.

It’s the same feelings as yesterday, excitement and lust.

When he finally connects his lips to yours it’s in a hungry kiss. He doesn’t waist any time today and opens your mouth and lets his tongue in.

The game has started and you can feel it quickly escalating. The both of you stands up and Jungkook immediately starts undoing your pants and rips the shirt over your head.

You’re left in underwear, which you feel is very unfair, but as you pull the white thee off Jungkook's body and his tattoos shows up it isn’t as bad.

You don’t know what it is about his tattoos, but they turn you on so much that you get the thought you want to lick every dot and line of them.

His arms wraps around the back of your thigh and he pulls you up. You wrap them around his waist, and it surprises you how thin his waist is. Yesterday you were too overwhelmed with other parts of his body to notice his waist, but damn did you miss that beautiful waist.

You kiss him harder and press yourself deeper into him, and down by your womanhood you can feel Jungkook growing.

Before you even notice Jungkook has walked you into his bedroom, where purple led lights are shining and making him glow.

You’re in awe at how handsome he is and you stop for just a second to appreciate him.

“What is it?” He asks very lustily and very gently.

“You’re just very beautiful right now.” You answer honest and almost cringe at how that sounded. Normally you would never say something like that, but whatever it’s just one time.

In the corner of his mouth a small smile rises, but he hides it by kissing you again.

Small and light kisses all over your face, and it makes you laugh. He slowly goes over to the bed and lays you down carefully.

You love rough sex more than anything, but this right now is not bad, it’s different, and you need to get used too it, but it’s sure feels amazing.

Then the happy hour breaks as you remember this isn’t forever, and you shouldn’t get used too it. And old feelings play through your mind. You push them away.

When you’re finally laying on the bed, Jungkook crawls up from the foot end to where you’re sat at the top. His back muscles flex and unflex, and his tattoos dances across the skin.

You don't understand the attraction between you two, it's so strong, yet still too weak. But you don't need tro understand it to act on it.

His sweatpants are still on, but you can clearly see the bulge he's hiding in them. It’s big and ready for your touch.

As if it was a lifeline you grab onto his cock and Jungkook’s response is instant. A moan, a grunt and then he manhandles you up over his lap.

He softly guides your trembling hips over his crotch, and the pleasure extends over both your faces. Jungkook's fingertips traces the line of your panties and he smiles at the cute small bow.

So extremely sinful, yet that little bow just makes him look at you with the tenderest grin. Not that you notice you're too hypnotized by the work of his crotch and his cock hitting you. Even thought it's covered by clothes, you can imagine the way it would slide into your pussy.

Jungkook can see a wet spot on top of his sweatpants, which makes him pant harder. Your thighs around his hips makes him hard, and you feel that, as his dick pushes up underneath you.

You make sure to sway your hips extremely careful and precise over it, Jungkook's face trembles into pleasure.

“Hmm, you like it when my hips are on top of yours like this?” You ask and press harder.

Jungkook knows what he must look like, but right now he doesn’t care.

Until he suddenly does, and something between you switches. The little dominance you had overtaken shifts and Jungkook pushes you onto your stomach.

His hand stays on your lower back, pushing your cunt into the madras, and making sure you feel the friction, and it’s obvious that you’re feeling the friction, your moans are loud and clear, and very begging.

“Jungkook! Jungkook please, please do something!” You say and Jungkook only mocks you by pushing you deeper onto the madras.

"What? Hm? What was it again that you chanted yesterday?.. Something about my dick?" His voice is deeper than usual, much like it was yesterday, and you can feel him at the shell of your ear, breathing into it.

"Mhm! Yes, yes!" You stutter and hump into the madras. Jungkook chuckles looking down yours and his body. You're laying flat on your stomach and he on top of you.

His dick is uncomfortably hard, laying flat across your ass. The power he has over you right now is unbearable, he's sure he could suggest anything right now, ropes, crops, ball gag, he could pull up the weirdest shit and you would jump in with both feet.

But he has a plan that he wants to follow by, and even if the thought of you gagged up and bound, is very intriguing he has to wait, just a little longer.

“Mhm, well then you’ll have to be a good girl for me.” Jungkook says and his lips drags across the skin on your neck. You only whimper which is enough signal for Jungkook to go on.

“Let me watch as you touch yourself,” He says and kisses behind the shell of your ear, “Show me how you please yourself.”

The image of you touching yourself with Jungkook's eyes watching your every movement is both sensual and anxious. Will he be satisfied with only watching?

Of course he won’t. Jungkook plans on burying his cock deep inside your pussy and drown it in your juices. But he has always had a deep desire to see you touch yourself, ever since the day you spoke to him. Were you chanting his name when your fingers graced your pussy? Or were you thinking of his body?

He needs answers to that question.

You moan as Jungkook humps over you, a little warning hump, on what’s going to happen afterwards.

Your hands reach down quickly and it’s a little difficult getting under your stomach and down to your clit as Jungkook’s weight also pushes down over you. But once your hands finally touches the fabric of your panties, you hump down over your hand.

Jungkook’s name immediately leave your lips, as if it was him who did it. And you do it again and imagine his long fingers doing it, just like yesterday.

Watching you like this, all fucked out and needy does things to Jungkook. He felt it yesterday, but it has come back today.

“Yea just like that baby.” Jungkook groan, and his hand finds it way down to yours. As his hand takes over the speed involves and you can feel yourself falling into a deep aroused hole, which you’re not sure you can come out of.

While all this happens and Jungkook adds two fingers into your pussy, he plants small kisses of affection all over your neck and upper back.

"More... More Kookie." You moan, and Jungkook can't control his smirk. "More Yea? Then turn around." He says as he raises himself off you and pulls his hand away.

The missing action makes you want to pull him back, but the thought of Jungkooks dick finally entering you is so much more appealing, so you control yourself and turn around like Jungkook had told you to.

Jungkook waits until you're finally laying down, head against his pillows which he knows is going to smell like you tomorrow. When your big eyes all needy for him looks up at him like this, he is reminded why he asked for this deal in the first place.

You're very beautiful in his eyes, and never being able to just tell you is killing him. But at least he can show you now.

Jungkook unties the straps of his sweatpants and your eyes follows every move. It's sensual and sinful watching the buff man peal off his clothes for you.

And when he finally pulls his boxers off as well and his cock jumps up to his abdomen, you're panting and rubbing your thighs against each other. Jungkook notices and that only feeds his ego.

"Take your underwear off, Y/N." He says, adorable smile playing on his lips, in contrast to his angry dick.

You immediately follow suit and pull your bra and panties off. You stay like that for a minute appreciating each other bodies. The erotic picture of Jungkook naked in front of you makes the sheets wet under you.

"Shit, Y/N, you look so good right now-" He says, but you cut him off by pulling him down and kissing him.

The way your lips move against each other is a new feeling. The both of you have gotten used to how the other kisses, and it gets better and better for every time you do it.

Between kisses Jungkook whispers all sorts of dirty things while he closes in on your body. "Mhm, I bet you're wet enough for the neighbors to hear it through the wall." "My sweet little baby, all needy and whiney for me." "I'm gonna coat you in my cum."

All these sorts of things leaves his mouth, and if you weren't this turned on it would probably have been gross, but his words only adds to the pleasure between your legs.

It's you who breaks the kiss. You lock eyes with him, they shine purple in the shadow of the led lights. Your hand slides over his cock, giving him a few pumps, and Jungkook moan in surprise.

"I want you. Right now." You say and Jungkook sees how serious you're trying to be with this. "I'm all yours Y/N." He says and line his dick up with your pussy, and finally you moan in union as he slips into you.

You've had sex many times with different people, but there's something totally different and even more intimate about this. The sounds you both let out are loud, and Jungkook moves fast from the beginning grinding into you with force. "Ah.. Fuck Y/N."

Your legs close in to get even more pleasure, but Jungkook rips them apart and pushes each of your knees down to the madras. "Shi- it." You say in response and Jungkook smiles down at you and bends to kiss your forehead. Your hands on Jungkook's back scratches as his dick hits your g-spot and his pelvis hits your clit. "Kookie.." You moan and turn your head, too deep into the pleasure to keep up. It doesn't take long before you feel your orgasm build up. Your whole body is glistering with sweat and so is Jungkook's. The white sheets are wrinkled up underneath you. Jungkook's hands leave your knees and instead takes a hard grip around your waist.

"I'm gonna try something baby, tap me twice if you want me to stop, okay?" You can't answer, no words will leave your mouth so you only nod.

When Jungkook said he wanted to try something you had not imagined that meant turning you over and onto all fours.

You're placed on all fours and Jungkook knows exactly what he's doing. He knows this is your favorite position, and you also happen to know it's his.

Jungkook's dick is still inside you, but he slowly pulls it out leaving only the tip. "Lay down for me goddess." Jungkook says and pushes on your upper back. With the little energy you have left you fall down, and only your ass is in the air now.

His hands hold tightly around your waist, and suddenly Jungkook hammers his dick into you with a force that has you nearly banging your head into the headboard. "Shit...!" You yell and are aware that the neighbors have full access to the noise you’re making.

His dick slide in and out of you and Jungkook can feel your walls tightening around him. It only adds to his desire and makes him push into you with even more force. His hands on your waist are giving electric shocks, and he lowers himself over your back and whisper into your ears.

“Do you feel that huh? How my cock is fitting so good into your pussy. Such a pretty little pussy, so tight and ready for me.” He says and that plus a very good hit in your g-spot is what tips you over.

Your orgasm hits, your back arches and it’s Jungkook’s weight over you that keeps you pressed down into the bed. You walls clench so much that Jungkook’s grinds slows down and it’s not long after you feel him twitch inside you and he pulls out and cums on your back. "FU- U- CK, Y/N..." He says.

He collapse on top of you and the white stripes of his cum mixes in between you. Not that you care, you’re both basking in the silence and satisfaction after the sex.

It fees magical, this moment. His body warmth is like a blanket, you want to keep him around you forever.

But after a few minutes he rises and the sticky noise form his cum fills your ears. He kisses you, “let’s get you cleaned up.” his arms sneaks around you and lifts you up.

Carrying you through the house and over to his bathroom he places you in the bathtub and fills it with water. There’s not once where he turns his back to you or his attention away, and you feel like a wanted person.

The water is hot and suites into your muscles loosing them up.

“So what happens afterwards?” You ask when you sit in the bathtub, asking yourself if he would kick you out now or not.

“You stay the night and we wake up together tomorrow, sounds good?” His hands play around with the water from your bath. His eyes are locked with yours and it’s weird seeing Jungkook this affectionate.

Usually when you see him with other girls, it’s sex and goodbye. You never knew Jungkook could be such a gentleman.

A smile plays on your lips, “That sounds good.” You say and try to hide how giddy you feel.

After the bath Jungkook carries you back to the bed. A movie is rolling in the background as you lay cuddled up by Jungkook’s side. You’re mostly watching the movie, but Jungkook just can’t pull his eyes from the small creature which is you laying in his arms.

When you fall asleep Jungkook turns off the movie and he too falls asleep next to you, with you pulled tightly into him.

Next morning you wake up first. Your legs are sore and your hair is a nest. But even so you lie smiling looking at Jungkook taking small puffs of air and clinging onto you like a little child.

You wouldn’t change this morning for anything in the world. This deal is the best thing you’ve ever agreed to.

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hxjikonn · 1 year

Note

Hello!

Could I request headcanons of Kalim, Vil, Ace, Idia and Rook with a fem!reader who's skilled in all fields of science and technology? Just imagine her using her skills in technology to upgrade Rook's bow and help in creating poisons for Vil.

I hope this wasn't too specific.

A/N: The moment I read, “science and technology” the immediate character that popped in my head is Honey-Lemon from big hero 6 😩♥︎ I’m not really a sci-tech person myself so bare with me, I’ll try my best to write this one! (P.s nothing is ever too specific when it comes to details ily for that) heads up this is gonna be a long one

Gear Head

☆Staring☆: Kalim Al asim, Vil schoenheit, Ace trappola, Idia Shroud, and Rook Hunt

Synopsis: Their headcannons with Fem!reader who’s skilled in science and technology (THINK GOGO or HONEY LEMON from big hero 6)

Warnings: Copy pasted french sentences in Rook’s part💀 Feel free to correct me in the comments I do not know a lick of french😭

——————————————————————————

Kalim Al asim

You’d think he wouldn’t be interested in what you do or how you do it, but believe me he is.

It all started when he sat behind to you in a potionology class, and you were doing something out of the ordinary.

He looked over your shoulder to see that you were making a tiny little contraption that would project holographic images

He was so amazed and at awe but he didn’t get your name and that was the only class he ever shared with you, so he went to Jamil for help

Kalim: Jamil~! d’you know that girl I sat behind in potionology class?, y’know the one who’s really good in science-y tech-y stuff?

Jamil: Oh her, yeah she’s the prefect, y/n I think…

When he got your name the boy couldn’t stop thinking about you, he was curious, he was trying to put together things in his mind to solve his questions but he just couldn’t find out how you did it

The next day, he made it his goal to be friends with you, so instead of sitting behind you, he sat beside you.

He turned to say hi expecting you were probably doing your own thing, but you were already looking at him….

He thought you were really pretty so he was a bit nervous now.

“Umm, hello” you greeted him, bowing your head slightly, “Oh! Hi! Hi I’m Kalim” He also bowed his head slightly “I’m—“ “Y/n! Yeah I already know” he cut you off smiling, “How’d you know?” you asked and smiled back back at him. Her smile’s pretty too-he thought but then quickly realized you were asking him a question “Uh y-your the pretty- I mean prefect! You’re the prefect…right?” He stuttered, thoughts merging with his words, you laughed at his mistake, he wanted to be eaten by the floor at that point “Yeah I am, nice to meet you” you said to him.

He told you about what he saw you do yesterday and that he was impressed. He started asking you loads of questions about it and you explained and answered all of them

He doesn’t really get half the stuff you were saying but he thought you were really smart…he grew very fond of you…

He always looks forward to seeing you in that class, and always sat next to you. Whenever he had time he’d go looking for you so he can listen to you talk about your hobbies some more

Don’t get me wrong, he tries his best to understand what you’re explaining but most of the time he really just wants to hear your voice and listen to you gush about science and technology and why you love it

He finds it endearing, he just keeps smiling and staring while you talk and he gets embarrassed when you caught him doing that

Would always watch you mixing chemicals or tinker and make stuff in awe. And he loves it when you praise him for remembering what certain things do or mean when he chimes in while watching you work

Would gush about you to Jamil all day long

“aaaa how can someone be so pretty AND SMART?”

Vil Schoenheit

I’m not gonna lie, this man would see you as competition tbh

You’d always answer Crewel correctly when he asks you a question in his class. It annoyed him

You’d always know which chemical to add next to complete a potion. He was irritated by it.

You could surpass him at any moment. That kept him on edge. He kept a keen eye on you.

He’d take note of every little thing you do to crack some sort of weakness

Little did he know that doing this would give HIM a weakness.

He noticed how you bounce your leg when you’re nervous, how you scrunch your nose when someone answers incorrectly, how you’d clap your hands quietly celebrating your small victors….it was annoying…it was infuriating…not you. But the feeling he felt in his chest.

He thought he inhaled too much toxic fumes in labs that he finally had gone insane, why did he feel this way? Is this a new form of hatred? He hates you…..right?

He thought the great 7 would have mercy on him, however that wasn’t the case when Crewel paired the two of you for a project. He kept belittling you to save his ego.

He toned down the insults when he noticed you weren’t doing the things you usually do in class though. But he was still very strict

He didn’t let you help out on the project, instead he made you a runner, making you do absolutely unnecessary things that doesn’t contribute to the project, he wants to do on his own.

However that all changed when he ran into a dilemma while making the project, he knew you could probably help him, but he doesn’t ask you, his ego got in the way. Instead he kept on trying, all turned out to be failed attempts.

You heard his frustrated groans and sighs, so you peeked over his shoulder and ask what’s wrong.

“Is something wrong?” You softly ask, “No, mind your business.” He snapped, you crossed your arms “That project is my business.” You protested. “We agreed on letting me take the lead, so you just focus on the task I gave you and let me do this project” he said sternly. “You asked me to iron your dorm uniform! What does that have to do with the project?” You were persistent. He sighed, it was time to admit defeat. He was upset by this, admitting defeat to a magicless human of all people.

He stood up from his seat, “Fine, do it then, I know you can solve this probably better and faster than I can since you’re such a clever little teacher’s pet” he walked away from the table arms crossed, turned away from you. “I can’t believe a magicless human is more capable than I am” he mumbled. Thinking only he heard it but then you chimed in “Yeah that’s me, magicless girl from nowhere, I didn’t mean to offend you in anyway, honest.” You confessed, he scoffed.

“it’s the only thing I can do here that makes me feel like I fit in, so I get excited when I make potions…I don’t wanna take over the project, I just wanna help…” you told him, he sighed and faced you again he wanted to apologize for being unnecessarily mean too but he bit his tongue “Well potato we aren’t going to solve anything with all this sappy talk, lets get back to work” he sat down with you, and you helped him find the missing chemical needed to finish the project. For the first time, he didn’t feel jealous of you. He was astonished by your intelligence.

He still hasn’t admit to himself that he likes you, however when Rook asked him if he hates you as much as he hated his other rival Niege leblanche. It dawned to him that you were different.

Ever since that day, he always sat next to you in class, he’d always wanna be paired up with you in projects, and he’d help you understand things you were having trouble with. He still doesn’t confess but his favoritism for you was evident to everyone.

“The only reason I’m doing this is because I see now more as a valuable ally rather than a rival. So that’s what you’re going to do, stand by me and never leave my side naïve little potato. That’s an order”

Ace Trappola

Would think you’re cool, he’s literally your fanboy, you cant convince me otherwise.

He thought he’d only see them in video games or in sci-fi movies, but when he saw you make futuristic contraptions and devices he was in awe

In beginning he’d only watch you because he thought the gadgets you made were awesome. But overtime my boy developed a little crush on you. No scratch that, he was crushing hard.

He started finding it very attractive when you’re focused on what you’re doing. He’d catch himself simping for you at random times

“Phew it’s hot in here huh?” You wipe the sweat beading on your forehead with your sleeve “You’re hot- I mean! You’re hot??? Yeah me too! Let me open the window” he rushes to open the window trying to cover up the embarrassment he just put himself through

He was about to walk back to your table when he saw you taking your lab coat off, he turned his attention to the floor “Damn you’re right, it’s fucking hot in here, I’ll go get you some water okay?” He rushed out even before you could answer he was staring holes on to the floor, he was having palpitations okay? Give him a break.

He would internally fanboy every time he watched you work on another project of yours, just takes pictures of you when you don’t notice it.

Like Kalim, he doesn’t even understand half the stuff you’re explaining to you, he just likes hearing you talk and seeing you smile when you do…

He tried to impress you by building something on his own…but then it caught fire and burnt him. It was still a win for him since you scolded him while tending to his wounds after.

Would always ask if he could take a device you worked on, you’d say yes if it doesn’t explode, cause fires, and is a harmless device. And he’d take it home and put it in his bed side table admiring your work.

Would ask you to play video games with him or take to see a sci-fi movie and point at something asking you if you could build that next.

“No Ace, I cannot build optimus prime.” “yes you can! I believe in you!” “It’s not that easy”

Would brag about you 24/7 to his roommate a.k.a Deuce.

“She’s so pretty, and so cool dude, did you know she build a freaking laser beam yesterday??? Man I have the coolest crush ever” “Ace I’m on the phone with her” “YOU’RE WHAT?!” “He said he was on the phone with ‘the coolest crush ever’ Ace”

Idia Shroud

He thought he was dreaming, he hoped he wasn’t though cuz he was already thanking what Deity made you.

We all know Idia choses NOT to physically meet people, he lets his tablet attend meetings, social events and classes for him.

His tablet was his savior from ever having to socialize in person ever again! But unfortunately some careless student accidentally hit it with a baseball making it crash and shut down. Destroying the device.

He didn’t wanna have to go out so he asked Ortho to look for the tablet instead. But Ortho didn’t find his tablet anywhere.

That’s because you found it. You found laying on the ground and it’s technology peeked you’re interest.

While Idia was sulking about his lost tablet, wondering if he had to go back to going outside, you were repairing his device…

When it turned on, Idia got a signal back, he was fuming with rage, he was gonna catch the person who stole his beloved tablet

He gasped and ran to his computer, “Ortho! My tablet! It’s restored it’s signal! I’m finally gonna catch the dirty little thief who took it!” He exclaimed waiting for the camera to turn on.

“Hello?” You tapped on the tablet, “Did I fix it yet or is something still wrong?” You asked yourself, completely unaware of the camera being back online. Idia’s jaw was left hanging when he saw you “Hang in there mr. Tablet I’m gonna fix you…” you said talking to yourself focusing on figuring out if there’s any further damage. “Oh that’s the prefect!” Ortho chimed in, breaking Idia’s tranced state. “Looks like she’s the one who found your tablet!” his little brother exclaims happily.

My dude had heart eyes for you, he’s looking at you like it’s impossible that you even breathe the same air as him.

He asked Ortho your name and when he found out there was just this echo in his head that kept repeating your name

He’s so impressed, by your skills, your knowledge is technology, your attention to details while you admire the tablet’s mechanisms and programming, he was praying you weren’t just a dream

When Ortho suggested he meets you in person, he was quick to oppose the idea and degrade himself telling Ortho that he should just go meet you instead since you were more familiar with him.

But after a little convincing and a pep talk from his younger brother, he actually went to see you in person, he was anxious and but he also wanted to meet you and befriend you

When he did he was expecting you to cringe or to think he’s a huge weirdo, but you didn’t and you actually complimented his skills in tech and programming as well, it made him crush on you harder

After that day he started going to classes he shared with you in person (only those classes though but still) people were shocked to see Ignihyde’s dorm leader outside

He’d also invite you in his room when you visit their dormitory which is very rare since he and Ortho are the only ones who can get in and out of his room

Is not afraid to act like himself and gush about stuff he likes with you. He’s comfortable around you.

Would ask your opinion on gadgets he’s working on cuz he knows you know this stuff as well as he does.

It is evident that he likes you more than just a friend and admire’s you more than just a technician/scientist. But he still thinks he’s way below you and that he doesn’t have a chance.

“There’s no way she’d go for a guy like me, I mean have you seen her? She’s way out of my league… she’s like a goddess right Ortho? Ortho? Oh you’re sleeping…”

Rook Hunt

It all started when you two got paired up in capture the flag, back in your world you didn’t really hate P.E, but here, you loathed it cuz it’s accompanied by magic like every other class

Rook was observant and he knew you’re incapable to yield magic so he, offered for you to stay behind and protect the Flag while he goes out and infiltrates other team’s bases for their flags

You agreed but you still didn’t want to be useless, so you asked if you could “upgrade’ the arrows he used and give him more equipment.

Rook was curious with what you could offer so he let you, and he watched you mend the arrows, labeling each set of 3 with different colors

He came up with a new nickname for you “Mademoiselle l’inventrice” (Madam inventor) because of your skillful knowledge in inventing

He watched you work until you were finished, he admired your dedication on making his equipment more useful to him but of course he had questions.

“Mademoiselle l’inventrice, you seem to have labeled my arrows different colors, why is that?” Rook looked at his newly improved arrows with curiosity, “Oh yeah, well the red one explode upon impact, the blue ones release sleeping gas also upon impact, the yellow ones paralyze people TEMPORARILY and the green ones have poison, don’t worry they cant kill, They’re more of an allergen than a toxin” you explain to him, and gave him more gadgets and equipment you’ve made for him while explaining

he was dazzled by how much benefit you’ve provided him with “Magnifique, Merci! Mademoiselle l’ inventrice, I shall do my best at the hunt!” He tipped his hat to you as a form of thanks and went off to “hunt” and you guarded the flag, also using your technology as an advantage to protect your base.

He was impressed with his new equipment, smoke bombs, his cloak you customized so he could camouflage better, and the arrows you modified.

Hunting was so much fun but with his new upgrades it’s a lot more enjoyable, he felt adrenaline coursing through his veins due to how easy it was to take other bases down

Needless to say you both won the game, and following that momentous event he was always near you, whether that be by your side, or watching you from afar, simply observing the beauty in your intelligence. Admiring your work, admiring you.

You was more curious about what other things you are capable of, and he seemed more attracted to you personally. He wanted to get to know you better.

He compliments before, but now you notice he compliments you A LOT more, not just you but you’re work too. You don’t mind his attention to detail though you find it somewhat endearing that he notices even the littlest of things

“Vous avez fait un merveilleux travail Mademoiselle l’ inventrice! You never fail to impress and surprise me!”

A/N: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG😭 I HAD TO DELLAY IT AT TIMES I WAS A BIT BUSY! I HOPE YOU LIKE IT! Like always, I did not proofread 💀 bare with my mistakes

A/N edit note: HUGE THANKS TO @/l1ttleclouds FOR THE CORRECTIONS IN FRENCH IN ROOKS PART! 🥹♥︎

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x mc #kalim al asim headcannons #kalim al asim x reader #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit headcanons #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #ace trappola headcannons #ace trappola x reader #ace trappola #idia shroud headcannons #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #rook hunt headcanons #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt

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definitelynotafurinasimp · 8 months

Text

Lynette with a reader that loves cats

characters: Lynette x gn!reader

warnings: none, just fluff

a/n: I wish everyone a lot of fun in Fontaine, I love it and all of the characters I have seen so far, so I look forward to finally be able to write for them.

Also: this fic is completely spoiler free, so feel free to read even if you didn’t play the story yet

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Lynette

Lynette preferred for her brother to do the talking, silently sitting by his side while appearing to mind her cup of tea, only to analyze their guest whenever they weren’t paying her any mind, it was a routine as time, one both of them had mastered perfectly over the years.

And yet, whenever it was you that came to visit, it fell apart before it could even begin. Was it because you wore your heart on your sleeve, didn’t hyperfixate on her brother like their other guests liked to do, or because Lyney conveniently always excused himself whenever the three of you were in a room, mentioning how he still had to work on the props for their next show only to shoot his sister a supportive smile while leaving the two of you alone.

While she couldn’t exactly say that she wasn’t at least slightly worried by her brother's behavior, one even she found hard to understand, even though the two of them always prided themselves in knowing what the other was thinking, it would have been a lie to say she didn’t enjoy your time together. Both of you sharing an interest in tea and being fond of cats, although yours seemed to cross over into adoration at times.

You had decided to accompany Lynette on an errand of hers, not wanting her to have to carry all the materials for the magic pockets herself, only to get stopped at the earliest opportunity when you were ambushed by a cat you had grown familiar with, the small animal running circles around your feet until it was being pet, something you complied with without any hesitation.

“I’m so sorry, but I can’t stay any longer. I promised to help with something”, you told the cat while continuing to pet it, only for the small thing to meow in response.

Lynette could have sworn she saw you turn into liquid and melt in front of her very eyes, your face contorting as you had to try your hardest not to squeal in response, something made even more difficult when the cat licked your hand, causing you to turn towards her with childish excitement in your eyes. Cute.

“I want to pepper your little face with kisses, who allowed you to be so cute? I wish you’d just let me pet your ears”, you continued to talk to it, ignoring most of the world, the only exception being the excited looks you threw her way whenever the cat meowed.

“You could always pet mine”, Lynette caught herself thinking, the words almost slipping out of her slightly opened mouth only for her to close it shut just in time to stop herself, her cheeks turning red as a consequence.

“Don’t you think he’s the absolute cutest?”, you once again turned to her, your hand still occupied with scratching your furry friend’s chin. Just as the words had left your mouth, Lynette had left her position to squat down besides you, slowly petting the cat as a small smile made its way onto her lips.

“You’re so cute, I love you.”

You always knew that she liked cats, although hearing her put her feelings into words was a whole other experience. That being said…

Why was she staring at you?

#lynette x reader #lynette #lynette x y/n #lynette x you

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xcherryerim · 1 month

Text

What You Deserve

Vanessa Shelly x gn!reader

SMUT ONE SHOT | MDNI | 18+ ONLY

Warning: this so short that it’s literally oral sex (to vanessa) , reader is into Vanessa AND Mike. More plot than porn tbh sorryyyy

So, I had this idea FOR A WHILE before i even started writing and i was waiting for someone to ask me to write for vanessa but no one did ☹️ so I wrote it anyways. It’s not my best writing that is because I wrote it in one go to get it out of the way bc i’m overwhelmed with other ideas and requests for jhutch characters. I might re write this in the future we’ll see.

Summary: Engaged in a situationship with Mike, you can’t help but let your insecurity drive you the conclusion that Mike and Vanessa are into each other, that’s until Vanessa proves you wrong.

“Let’s go!” You excitedly cheer as you win the bowling game, only to realize that Mike, your not-so-boyfriend, was too caught up staring at Vanessa to notice that he even lost.

You tell yourself that you’re not allowed to be jealous, since Mike is technically not your boyfriend. Despite the lack of official labels, you and Mike act as if you’re a couple without one. However, there’s no denying that something is going on between Mike and Vanessa, and you don’t particularly like it.

“Oh, good job!” Vanessa said to you, with a cheerful smile on her face that she would manage to fake, just to hide the bitter truth. She was likely looking you up and down, trying to find an advantage to exploit, so she could feel superior to you.

You could instantly tell that her attitude wasn't genuine, so all you could manage was a quick "thanks."

“Actually…” Vanessa said, turning towards Mike, the person she was more interested in, “Why don’t you get a reward for the winner?”

“Huh, yeah, alright,” Mike responded, before walking off and leaving you alone with Vanessa.

“So,” Vanessa said, as she leaned in close to you while still staying just out of reach. “You and Mike are together or something?”

You tried to stay composed and avoid stuttering, even though you knew that she could likely see right through your lie. “I—we—“

“Friends with benefits?” Vanessa asked with a mocking tone, daring you to say otherwise, as she smirked at you.

“You’re better than some situationship,” Vanessa stated, this time with a surprisingly genuine tone. It seemed to leave you speechless for a moment before you struggled to conjure up a response.

So?” you asked, “We’re grown adults. I don’t need your permission to be with whoever I want.”

“Come on,” Vanessa said as she moved forward, pressing her body against yours, taking your breath away. “You need someone mature, someone that takes you seriously.” she continued, smirking at you, obviously knowing how the conversation was making you feel.

“You need someone to please you, to make you happy. I doubt you’re getting any of that.” Vanessa finished, clearly playing into your insecurities, but in a strangely flirty way.

As she stood back from you, looking directly into your eyes, her words weighed heavily upon you. Venessa’s words were both provocative and challenging, yet they aroused an unexpected curiosity inside you. Your heart raced as you considered her proposition, unsure how to respond. She looked pleased with her effect on you, sensing that she had gotten under your skin.

“Maybe I don’t need anyone,” you retorted, trying to maintain control over your emotions and hide your vulnerability. But even as you spoke, you couldn't help feeling intrigued by the idea she presented. Could there be more to you both than just this casual interaction? Was she genuinely interested, or was she simply toying with you?

Vanessa smiled, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Well," she drawled, "I think we both know that's not entirely true." She took a step closer, her scent enveloping you, and whispered, "But you can keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night." With that, she turned around and sashayed away, leaving you standing there in confusion and desire.

“I know you’re doing this because you want Mike for yourself!”

Vanessa stopped mid-step, turning around slowly, her hips swaying seductively. She raised an eyebrow at you, tilting her head slightly. "Oh really?" she asked playfully. "And what makes you so sure about that?"

“Oh please! Do you think I don’t notice how Mike gets around you? I know you guys had something in the past!”

"Isn't it fascinating how people jump to conclusions?" Vanessa retorted, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Just because Mike likes me doesn't mean I like him back.” She crossed her arms over her chest, a challenge evident in her gaze.

"You're projecting your insecurities onto me," she added, taking another step near you. "Admit it, you're jealous. You're afraid I'll take what's 'yours.' But, is Mike truly what you want?”

Pausing for a moment, she stared intently into your eyes, her gaze intense and unwavering. "Mike may be your safety net, but what happens when you want something more?"

“So? Why do you care anyway?” You responded in anger to her treatment.

“You still don’t get it huh?” Vanessa let out a soft chuckle, her laughter ringing in the air like a bell tolling a warning. Her eyes narrowed, her expression growing more serious. "I care because it's obvious you're not happy. I care because I see potential in you, potential you waste on mediocrity." She shook her head, her disapproval clear.

"It's not my business, but if you ever decide to stop hiding behind that safety net and spread your wings, remember - I'm here, waiting." With that, she spun around and strode away, leaving you alone with her words, echoing in your mind. Despite the anger, her words left you pondering. Were you truly settling for less? Could there be something more out there?

“Vanessa wait,” You held onto her wrist. “What do you mean you’re here for me?”

“I think you know what I mean,” Vanessa said with a sly smile, her eyes twinkling in the dim light. "I've made my intentions pretty clear, haven't I?" She took a step closer, her confidence radiating like heat waves.

“I uh, I thought you liked Mike not me,” You responded.

Vanessa chuckled softly, shaking her head. "I never said that," she countered, her lips curving into a wicked grin. She leaned in until her lips were mere inches from your ear. "Besides, Mike is not for you. He's far too predictable, too safe. And trust me, you deserve more."

You couldn’t deny the truth; you were in love with Mike, but it didn’t seem like he was reciprocating your feelings. Now Vanessa was here, and seemingly begging you to be with her, all while exuding a dominating aura.

“And you’re what I deserve?” you teased back, letting yourself be overwhelmed by her presence, yet trying to keep your cool and appear playful.

Vanessa's lips curved into a smirk, amusement sparkling in her eyes. "No, I'm not what you deserve," she said, her voice velvety smooth. "But I'm certainly what you need."

“I can make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”

"That's a bold claim," you replied, trying to maintain your composure amidst the storm of emotions brewing inside you. "But what do you get out of it?"

“A taste of you,” Vanessa replied, making you struggle to suppress your blushing as you felt her hot breath against your neck. “Would you let me?”

You swallowed hard, feeling her warm breath tickling your skin. A tangle of excitement and fear twisted in your stomach. "Are you sure?" you asked hesitantly, your heart pounding loudly in your ears.

"Positive," she replied, her voice firm yet inviting. "But bear in mind, there's no going back after this."

You took a deep breath, steeling your resolve. "Okay," you said, your voice barely audible. "Let me taste you too."

With surprising strength, Vanessa pulled you forcefully into the darkened maintenance room, slamming the door shut behind them before pushing you against the wall. Her body pressed against yours, pinning you in place as she devoured your mouth hungrily, tongue wrestling with yours in a fierce dance. Her hands roamed freely downwards, skimming over your abdomen before reaching for your belt buckle.

Meanwhile, your own hands fumbled clumsily at her zipper, determined to reciprocate her advances. Finally, both of you met in the middle, both sets of buttons and clasps coming undone simultaneously. Her panties slipped down her thighs, exposing her wetness to your hungry eyes.

Without breaking the lip lock, Vanessa broke free long enough to whisper, "Do you like what you see?"

“God, you’re so hot.” You said, falling to your knees without a thought.

Vanessa's eyes widened in surprise as you sank to your knees, but she quickly recovered, her grin growing wider. "Good," she hissed, her breath ragged. “Open your mouth for me, baby.”

She stepped back, giving you room to worship her. Your hands trembled slightly as they ran over her silken skin, tracing the curve of her hips, and the dip of her waist. You paused at the evidence of her arousal, drawing in a sharp breath. Your fingers parted her folds slowly, revealing the slick wetness that awaited you. Taking a deep breath, you dove in, your tongue flicking out to taste her sweetness.

She moaned softly, her fingers twisting in your hair, urging you on. "Faster, harder," she urged, her voice hoarse. "Make me come on your tongue, baby."

As you obeyed, licking and sucking at her tender flesh, you couldn't help but wonder - was this worth the risk? Was it worth losing everything else for her taste? Oh, but the way she moaned your name was making you dizzy by her siren voice.

As you continued to please her, Vanessa's moans grew louder, echoing throughout the empty hallway. Her hips rocked against your face, grinding herself against your mouth. "More, baby," she panted between gasps. "Give me more."

You did as she commanded, thrusting your tongue deeper into her core, exploring every crevice of her most intimate parts. Each sound of approval spurred you on, fueling your desire. Your hands cupped her full breasts, kneading and squeezing them roughly, eliciting another moan from her lips.

The rhythm of your tongue matched the pace of your thrusts, creating a synchronized symphony of lustful sounds. Suddenly, her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, her muscles tensing up. "Ah! Yes! Oh god, yes!" she cried out, her voice strained with ecstasy.

Finally spent, she collapsed against the wall, panting heavily. "That was... incredible," Vanessa managed to utter between gasps. "Now it's your turn."

Before you had the chance to properly stand up, the noise of the entrance door opening froze you in horror. Slowly turning around you see Mike, standing right there in the doorway.

“Is this where I'm supposed to say ‘How could you?’” Mike replied, catching the two of you standing in what was an obvious compromising position.

“And what I'm supposed to say, ‘it’s not what it looks like?’” you also replied, still trying not to let your embarrassment get the best of you, as you were caught red-handed.

#Not the detention reference #vanessa shelly #vanessa x reader #fnaf vanessa #vanessa afton #vanessa shelly smut #vanessa fnaf #vanessa shelly x you #mike schmidt #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x you #vanessa shelly x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n

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imeanitplsmorenamifics · 4 months

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hihi !!

can you do an Usopp X reader where reader is a much better liar than he is and it always sounds believable—and honestly sometimes it is the truth, so no one realizes until either Y/N tells them it was a lie or it’s too late and they’ve already fallen for it and USO’s just like “… AH—WAS THAT A LIE? YOU LITTLE!” but it’s cute? I dunno how but it’s all silly silly banter

bonus points if despite this, Y/N somehow always falls for Usopp’s lies even when they’re shitty asf 😭

Hey! This was such a great idea! I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope I did it justice for you! I tried to brainstorm and be original with it. Hope you enjoy reading! Summary: When a lying competition gets a little out of hand. Characters: Usopp, GN!Reader, Sanji, Zoro, Nami, and Luffy. Pairing: Usopp x GN!Reader TW: Nothing that I know of.

Liar, Liar

.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.

There is a week that the Strawhat crew officially calls the worst week in hell. Now, you might be thinking that something horrendously bad happened. Maybe there was a series of bad events during that week? Maybe they were stranded on an island for a week and couldn’t leave? Something bad. You would be wrong. Nothing horrible happened during that week… Unless you count a lying competition as something horrible.

It all started with the two resident liars on the crew, Usopp and (Y/N). To say that lying was their specialty would be putting it lightly. They were experts. If anyone could convince you of anything, it would be them. This was useful on multiple occasions, especially with their pirate lifestyle. It was an absolute hindrance when that ability was used against you.

One day, a conversation took place between the two. It was a day like any other day. It was another day out at sea. The crew was bored to death. It was a while before they would reach the next island and they had zero entertainment. They all did things to keep them occupied in the meantime. Zoro polished his swords, Sanji was cooking their lunch, Nami was studying the Grand Line map, and Luffy was sitting on the mast. This left the last two additions of the Strawhat Crew.

“You have a tell when you’re lying,” (Y/N) was on one of the crates on the deck of the ship. Their legs were crossed, and so were their arms. They were giving a stern look to Usopp.

Hearing this from them made the man make a face. This expression clearly said, ‘You’re lying.’ Usopp scoffed with a smile on his face, “No, I don’t. I’ve taught myself to remain perfectly normal,” He locked eyes with them, “If anyone has a tell, it’s you.”

That wasn’t true. They had zero tells whatsoever. They stared at him with a questioning look, “Oh, really? Then what is it?” They knew he wouldn’t be able to name anything. They were confident in their lying skills.

For a few moments, Usopp stumbled over his words, “Well, uh… You do the thing-” (Y/N) hummed, urging him to continue. All that came from him was jumbled-up words that didn’t make sense. It wasn’t long until (Y/N) started giggling. This was all it took to set Usopp off. He nodded to himself and leaned forward, “Okay. How about this… We have a lying competition,” Now (Y/N) was interested. “Whoever can make everyone believe the most outrageous lie wins.”

A smirk took over (Y/N)’s features, “You’re on.”

Just like that, the week started. Both parties started off with small lies. Things like shoes being untied or lying to get out of doing stuff. Then, it started to get bigger. They would lie about forgetting something important or being sick. That’s when (Y/N) decided to take it up a notch. They knew exactly what they could do to win.

In the morning, while they were docked at a new island, everything was calm. The crew was eating breakfast and chatting over what they were going to do that day. The only one not there yet was (Y/N). This wasn’t surprising. They always overslept. What was alarming to the group was when they walked into the room with a panicked expression. With wide eyes, they said, “I can’t find the map.”

The group froze. Nami slowly looked up from her food, “Which map?”

“The Grand Line map.”

Everything went to chaos. They all freaked as they looked furiously around the ship. They came up with nothing. This made them panic more. What could have happened to it? They rarely took it off the ship. When they did, it was always with one of them. They would never take the risk of having it out in the open for someone to take. After more moments of freaking out, one of them took charge.

“Who had it last?” Zoro inquired.

Only one person spoke up, “I was, but I would never lose it.” It was Nami. That wasn’t surprising. She had the map on her at all times. Though, everyone knew she wouldn’t be dumb enough to misplace it somehow.

“Let’s retrace your steps!” Usopp suggested. “If we can find out everything you did yesterday, we can find the map.”

This gave (Y/N) an idea. They pulled out the container the map was usually kept in and looked inside once more. That’s when something caught their eye. They pulled it out for everyone to see. It was a slip of paper. Everyone stared at the slip of paper curiously. (Y/N) scanned their eyes over it before they sighed, “It says that it was taken. They’ll give it back for a ransom.”

“Ransom?” Sanji questioned.

“Maybe we can take it back by force!” A smirk appeared on Luffy’s face.

Shaking her head, Nami asked the question on everyone’s mind, “Does it say who took it?”

Once again, (Y/N) looked down at the note. Their eyes stopped on a particular part of the note, “Hold on, I didn’t notice this before. It says..,” Everyone waited, worried for what they might hear them say. “It says that I lied,” (Y/N) looked up from the note with a grin. They pulled the map out of their bag. “It was right here the whole time.”

All hell broke loose from three people.

“Not this again!” Sanji.

“Can you guys cut it out already?!” Nami.

“This lying competition is getting out of hand.” Zoro.

And Luffy was laughing at the reactions of their crewmates.

Meanwhile, Usopp had a shocked expression on his face, “SO THAT WAS A LIE?” (Y/N) hummed, rocking back and forth on their heels. “YOU LITTLE-”

He was quickly cut off by (Y/N) saying, “I guess this means that I won!”

No response was given. Usopp shook his head with an amused expression. He walked up to them and took the map from their waiting hand. He opened up the map and suddenly froze. He looked at (Y/N) with a serious face, “(Y/N), this isn’t the map.”

Fear filled (Y/N). Everyone else froze when they heard him say this. (Y/N) didn’t know what to say when they heard his words, “But- It should be. I didn’t lose it- I wouldn’t lose it- I had it with me the whole ti-” A grin grew on Usopp’s face. “OH, I HATE YOU!”

Lying competitions were banned after this incident.

#one piece oneshots #one piece imagine #one piece usopp #one piece #oneshot #opla usopp x reader #opla x reader #opla #one piece live action #one piece x reader #one piece netflix #x reader #sanji #roronoa zoro #monkey d. luffy #cat burglar nami

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 6 days

Text

Where's Mommy?

Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Part 10

Summary: Wolffe's wife suddenly dies, leaving him a single father in the middle of a war.

Pairing: Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Characters: Wolffe, Cara (child OFC), Comet, Sinker, Boost, Plo Koon

Tags & Warnings: heavy angst, mention of death, off-screen death, spousal death, reader is not the spouse, grief, hurt/comfort, family fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

Author's Note: Things are still crazy right now, but I am managing. Thank you to everyone who has reached out. I appreciate it! This is another transitional chapter. Not much happens, other than the plot moving forward. You know, the meaning of "filler episode" really changes when you write 😅 The chapter isn't exciting or emotional, but it's still important to the overall plot and contains context for future chapters. As always, please enjoy 💚

Beta: @beating-a-dead-plot

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10

The ride over to the Jedi Temple is quiet once Cara settles on Wolffe's lap. Most children fall asleep to the lull of a moving ship or speeder, and Cara is no exception. Wolffe doesn't mind, though. He prefers her to be asleep and peaceful than awake and chaotic. She's been through enough already, and yet, the tragedy is nowhere near over. Not by a long shot. Deep down he knows the funeral is going to rip off every band-aid he and the others have meticulously placed.

They can lie, dance around the truth, replace facts with illusion, and carefully craft misdirection, but at the end of the day, they can't hide it forever. The pain is painted across all of their faces. A grim truth they all know but refuse to acknowledge, even for Wolffe. No one wants to speak it aloud out of fear that maybe, just maybe, if they don't say it, it won't happen. But while trying to conceal it from Cara, they have disillusioned themselves with their own blank stares and frowns.

Wolffe stares out the window and watches as other speeders fly by, lost in his thoughts about the future. Not many clones think about the future, because it's not in their brain chemistry to look beyond anything other than their immediate present, but that changed for Wolffe after he met his wife. There was a moment where it felt like he unlocked a part of his brain. The part that wants to survive and thrive, instead of fight and die. It's a fleeting feeling, but there nonetheless.

He's wondering, not only about the funeral, but what comes after. What will he do when he gets a new assignment? He can't stay on Coruscant forever. No clone can. Wolffe scoffs at his own thoughts and corrects himself. In reality, the only clones who can stay on Coruscant forever are the Coruscant Guard. At this moment, Wolffe thinks they're lucky, even if they don't. Fox would kill to be back on the battlefield, and Wolffe would trade his command with Fox’s in a heartbeat.

However, Fox has his own life to lead and his own things to worry about on Coruscant. This is just how life is for the clones. It's a luck of the draw in who gets to be a commander and who gets stationed where. To the Republic, all clones are the same, so it shouldn't matter what clones go where, but to the clones, sometimes, it does matter. Clones who haven't been around long enough don't understand, and those who have, don't live long enough after they find out.

Wolffe is pulled from his thoughts when they arrive at the Jedi Temple. He peers out the window at the towering structure and breathes deep as he feels his heart rate increase. He's never been enthralled with the Jedi like other clones; finding their religion strange and their battle tactics even stranger. Perhaps it's the deep-seeded Mandalorian genes coursing through his veins that makes him wary of the so-called peacekeepers, even if Rex tries to convince him otherwise.

The only Jedi Wolffe remotely likes or cares about is his own. General Plo Koon saved him, Boost's, and Sinker's lives, and for that he owes him his undying loyalty. The rest he disregards. He serves them as he should, like any good soldier who follows orders, but that doesn't mean he has to like them or worship them. It's the Jedi that caused him to lose his first battalion, even though he alone received the demerits for it, much to his general's disgruntled displeasure.

To stand at the precipice of the Jedi Temple with the intent to leave his beloved daughter in the care of these Force-wielding wizards that aren't his general makes his skin crawl. Even with his disdain for the Jedi, it's still better than the alternative of Cara entering the foster care system, or even worse, being left in the care of her grandparents. That thought alone makes Wolffe bristle. At least with this arrangement, he can come and go within the Jedi Temple without explanation.

"Do you want to put your armor on?" Comet asks from across Wolffe.

Wolffe moves his gaze from the window to look down at Cara, who's still asleep in his lap, and then up at Comet. "Whenever I put my armor on, she thinks I'm leaving."

"Understood," Comet nods. "I'll have Aug– Warthog lug it to your new quarters."

Wolffe chuckles.

"I'll grab a box," Sinker says as he exits the speeder.

"I'll grab the other box," Boost says as he also exits the speeder.

Comet, Cara, and Wolffe are left alone in the speeder and Wolffe isn't keen on moving.

"You really don't want to do this, do you?" Comet asks.

"Would you?" Wolffe retorts, his disdain bleeding through. "Would you leave your kid with strangers? With Jedi?"

"It's not that bad," Comet says.

Wolffe huffs and looks back out the window. "You'll never understand."

"Guess not," Comet sighs. "I'll probably die before I fall in love and have a kid like you did."

Wolffe snaps his gaze back to Comet and glares at him. "Don't get insubordinate with me, Trooper."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Commander," Comet says before leaving the speeder.

Wolffe tilts his head back against the top of the seat and groans. He is such an idiot. Even after everything Comet did for him following his wife's death, everything he did for Cara, Wolffe still has the audacity to bite at him like he's some random shiny that stepped out of line. Pathetic. At least he continues to live up to his namesake, whether he's proud of it or not, because when you corner a wolf, it will lash out. He needs to get his fears, anxieties, and his temper under control.

"Daddy?" Cara says sleepily as she stirs on his lap.

Wolffe tilts his head back down and smiles. "Hi, baby."

Cara whines. "I wanna sleep."

Wolffe picks her up so she's sitting on his legs instead of laying on them, much to her protest. "Not yet. We need to get settled in our new room first, then you can have a nap."

Cara whines and wriggles against Wolffe.

"I know," Wolffe soothes as he exits the speeder and sits her on his hip. "Daddy wants a nap too, but can you stay awake for me for a little longer?"

Cara groans and moves restlessly in Wolffe's grasp.

"Close enough," Wolffe sighs.

Wolffe carries Cara towards the edge of the stairway leading up to the Jedi Temple, where his general and men are waiting for him. He grips her tightly in his arms, afraid that at any moment someone is going to rip her out of his arms and he'll never see her again. It's not an entirely irrational fear. The Jedi take children away from their parents all of the time. What makes his daughter so different from those children? What if he leaves her here and never gets her back?

"Calm yourself, Commander," Plo says when he senses Wolffe's trepidation through the Force. "There are no enemies within these walls, only the enemies we bring in from within ourselves."

Wolffe heeds his general's words of wisdom and steadies himself. He stares up at the daunting, stone stairway, takes a deep breath, and releases it slowly. He's as ready as he will ever be, and he hasn't even gotten to the hard part yet. Nevertheless, he steps forward, and his men step forward with him in solidarity. A silent march up the Jedi Temple steps towards a new normal. A terrifying new normal, for both him and Cara, and this is only the beginning of it.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 2 months

Note

I've seen a few people saying that the people who don't like how Lila is written are just impatient or lack imagination, can we be certain beyond all reasonable doubt that that's not true?

Alright, I'll play devil's advocate for you and show you how, even if we view Lila's writing in the most favorable light possible, it's still perfectly reasonable to have no faith in her as the main villain. In fact, to my line of thinking, it's a little insane to have any faith that she'll be good moving forward. For the sake of your own mental well being, expect her to be terrible otherwise you will likely be terribly disappointed.

The main argument against Lila is that she tells really stupid obvious lies that no one would be fooled by, so how can she possible be seen as a master manipulator by the audience? Well, if we accept that Lila's lies were just exaggerated for the sake of humor the same way that Marinette's crush is played up for humor, then we can hope that that humor will go away and that she'll be played serious now that she's our main antagonist.

This is actually a fair argument. I truly think that this might have been the intent, it just failed to land because the lies are a serious plot point while Marinette's crush antics are not. People wanted Lila outed and every lie was used to hurt Marinette, so the quality of Lila's lies mattered because that's the way that the way that you out a liar. Marinette's crush was never going to be outed by her antics. They were the main way that the writers kept the crush going for five seasons without outing it!

So while you might find the antics just as frustrating as the lies, the expectations built around the antics were met. They never lead to anything. Meanwhile, the expectations built around the lies were never met. Lila was outed by a forced confession, not by her lies even though, when you introduce a liar, audiences will expect the lies to be their undoing. So the lies are bad writing in and of themselves, which is strike one, but we can hope they change so let's move on to strike two: the lie's effect on the cast.

Marinette's antics only made her look bad while Lila's lies made everyone look bad. This is a big, concerning issue since we know that Lila will be a student at Marinette's school again, meaning that it's perfectly reasonable to assume that she'll keep on lying. It's also reasonable to assume that she'll be in every episode.

Even if you take Lila in the kindest light possible and assume that she told decent lies, the writers appear to only know how to write her by dumbing everyone else down and that's concerning. Characters like Max and Alya are supposed to be smart. Max looks into everything and quotes random statistics. Yet he never questioned Lila even though a smart kid like him would be inclined to look into some of the stuff she says just out of pure curiosity and a desire to learn.

We could pretend that Lila told a believable lie about Ladybug like "Ladybug saved me" instead of "Ladybug is my best friend," but even then, Alya learning Marinette's identity still should have been the end of Lila's power over Alya. But the writers didn't know how to handle Alya knowing since Alya would confront Lila, so Alya stayed on team Lila even though it makes no sense and makes her look terrible.

We could pretend that Lila planted better evidence than doilies that Marinette could have taken for free from her parent's shop. That still doesn't excuse Tom and Sabine from immediately believing that their daughter was a thief. They're supposed to be good parents who trust their kid, but the writers don't know how to write that around Lila.

And giving Lila all of that grace makes no sense because it relies on you giving the writers faith that they haven't earned. They had full control over Lila! They knew that she was going to be the next big bad! And yet they wrote her in a way that is totally unbelievable.

Even if Lila's upgrade was decided late in the game, they still could have spent seasons five changing her character to be smarter, but they didn't. Most of the above examples come from season five! It's perfectly reasonable to look at that and say, "I have no faith that you're going to completely reimagine this character into something interesting instead of something frustrating because you have spent five seasons writing her poorly."

And if that's still not enough for you, then here's strike three: The writers have proven time and time again that they cannot write a truly clever character. Lila's most convincing episodes are petty BS that she makes up on the fly. When it comes to complex plots? Lila, Gabriel, and Marinette never come across as particularly impressive.

Others have talked about this, but pretty much every big dramatic plan relies on the writers being able to control the characters' actions. They're not plans that would actually work. Here are just a few examples:

Lila's plan to go to the mansion and get the butterfly only works because the writers know that the butterfly will be unguarded. No reasonable person would assume that would happen because why would it? So why did she go to the mansion? What was her original plan? How does she even know that the butterfly is up for grabs? In a good story, she would have had a plan that lead her to the mansion, but that plan gets scrapped based on what she sees. We don't get that good quality writing because the writers already know that the butterfly will be open season so they never bothered to make Lila's actions logical to any other scenario. They didn't even bother to have her watching the final fight.

Along similar lines, Gabriel only gets all of the miraculouses because Adrien has an evil twin who shows up when the plot demands it. Without Felix, Gabriel would have once again failed and Felix's betrayal makes no sense, especially after his season five characterization. Felix fears his uncle, why offer all of the miraculous AND Adrien's ring? Why not only offer a few? And why is Gabriel able to open the yo-yo and get the miraculouses? The yo-yo opens to a phone, the miraculouses, and a purse. Why would Gabriel be able to control which one it opens to or even open it at all? Especially since access to the miraculouses was implied to be a Guardian power. And why does Felix not immediately betray Gabriel? He's got no reason to stay loyal and he supposedly wants his uncle stopped. Answer: because then the plot would fall apart.

Marinette's plan to hide her identity via the kwamis was asinine and clearly made up last minute by the writers. It would have been very easy to foreshadow this plan by having her hide something in Chat Noir's bell back in season four, but they didn't because the writers didn't actually plan out this plan. There's also the fact that we're apparently supposed to think that the Tom and Sabines is the only bakery in Paris? "Follow the smell of croissants" would not get you to a specific bakery nor would it get you to Marinette's room. It would get you to the bakery. Yet Gabriel goes to the right bakery and to Marinette's room because that's what the writers needed him to do.

I just... how can anyone look at the last five seasons and think, "oh sure, this show can handle having someone who plots and manipulates as the main villain! I'm sure that will lead to lots of satisfying episodes?"

It's not impossible, miracles do happens, but it's the height of arrogance - or perhaps desperation - to act like it's unreasonable to assume that the first five seasons weren't a reasonable representation of the writing quality that we'll be seeing in future seasons. They're not replacing the writing team. What you've seen is most likely also what you'll get. Do you have five bad meals at a restaurant and then say, "It's unreasonable to assume that meal six will be bad, too! Have some faith in the chef."

#ml writing salt #ml writing critical #ml season 5 salt #lila salt #ml fandom critical

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purple-the-turtle · 6 months

Text

TW// Major Character Death, Non- Graphic Descriptions of Blood and Death

Something is terribly wrong.

Donnie feels it in their very bones, as they struggle to open their sleep-riddled eyes. Since when did they get enough sleep for their eyes to be melded shut? Nice, They think, managing to blink themselves awake.

Only to double-take at the sight of their brothers lying on a railroad track not so far away.

They lurch forward, but is held firmly in place by some kind of magic. They glance around, spotting writing engraved on a stone in between the two tracks. A promise. They pale.

The sound of a trolley rings in the distance, uncomfortably close.

Donnie starts screaming, all ration replaced by pure fear and helplessness. “Raph! Mikey!” they screech, their voice breaking. They don’t know if they can be brave for them. But Mikey and Raph don’t move. Donnie squints, seeing Mikey’s slow breath– he’s asleep. They turn to Raph, who’s as stiff as a board. Awake. Thank god.

“Raph,” Donnie cries, pure relief filling their voice. “There’s a trolley coming. I need you to get Mikey and go, okay? I’ll be right behind you.” The lie comes surprisingly easy to them. Raph doesn’t move. Donnie grinds their teeth together.

“Raph.” They say, with all the firmness they can muster. “Get. Up.” The trolley rings again. Panic pools in their stomach. Their tail thwacks anxiously against the tracks. Someone sighs. Donnie’s head whips toward the sound, eyes wide.

A hand rests against the lever, one that would change the direction of the trolley. The being the hand belongs to has an infinite amount of faces, each of them flickering from one to another every second, each mouth pulled into an indecisive frown.

Pick Donnie, or their brothers.

Their brothers, who won’t leave. Who… can’t. Donnie wrenches their gaze away from the figure, their eyes throbbing. They try calling out to their brothers again, and Raph turns to them, his face… annoyed?

“Don’t worry, Don.” He grumbles, expression nonchalant, rolling his eyes like he does at Leo when she goes into Mamanardo mode. Donnie’s mouth is agape, words lost. Raph scoffs. “I wanna see what will happen. This is the ultimate test of my strengths!” Donnie inhales.

“By getting hit by a bus?!” They screech, their voice high with fear, anxiety, and slight anger. Raph turns away, his shoulder hiked up to his mask tails. This isn’t their brother. He’s bullheaded and proud, but he wouldn’t put Mikey in danger. He wouldn’t cause another heartbreak for their family on purpose. And Donnie. Donne panics, throwing themselves at the force shield as if they’ll be able to break it.

The trolley is practically upon them now.

Donnie sobs, begging Raph, screaming for Mikey so he’ll just wake up–

None of it works. Mikey snoozes away. Raph remains rigid. It reminds them, in a morbid and extremely inappropriate way considering the situation- reminds them of The Great Mouse Detective, when Sherlock Holmes as a Rat had lain there, waiting for Professor Rattigan's trap to go off. They laugh hysterically, the tears falling from their eyes in droves now.

The figure at the lever pales, chewing the inside of their cheek. Like their trying to pick what to have for dinner. Donnie snarls. “Don’t fucking touch that goddamn lever.” They hiss, tensed, and ready to lunge. The figure only looks at them with fondness, as if they were seeing a scared cat, who only needed to be cleaned and fed. Donnie bristles.

The trolley roars into view, chugging chipperly toward them. Donne pales, their hisses turning into pleas.

“Hit me,” They gasp, tears starting all anew. Their not even sure that they ever stopped. Suddenly, the figure’s face shutters, becoming solid and indifferent.

The trolley reaches the divide. The figure leaves the lever untouched.

The blood splatters at their feet.

They scream.

Donnie lies there, shaking with indescribable grief coursing through their veins, sloshing around in the newly formed pit in their chest for who knows how long.

Something brushes against their fingers. They lift their heavy head, blinking through the tears. It’s a pink flower, brushing innocently against Donnie’s fingers. They thumb the delicate petals with careful fingers.

The flower born of blood seems to wash away all the bad. When had Donnies ever felt this light? They smile, infatuated by the simple plant. The strange red liquid has no meaning now, as Donnie stands on surprisingly – why surprisingly?-- steady legs, stepping off the tracks, leaving the broken bodies of people they used to know behind.

Why were they ever crying?

Something’s happened.

Leo feels it in every fiber of her being, as she struggles against the rope she had found herself in. Her siblings were gone, and her instincts were pinging around her body like a chaotic game of ping pong.

She struggles for a bit longer, digging her teeth into her cheek before she starts hyperventilating. And then, without warning–

She feels something drop from her chest.

Mikey. Raph. Donnie. Gone. Stolen.

She pitches forward, sobbing, held fast by the rope wrapped around her, burning her skin. Her tears lap at the feet of faceless beings, the ones, she knows instinctually, who did this to her family. She’s burning now, her skin flaking off and twirling into dust. The rope turns into greedy unknown hands, grasping at her mask tails.

Blood oozes from their hands, staining her shell, and clogging up her mouth and nose.

She knows it’s not theirs.

She’ll make it, one day.

She hopes they never untie her, for their sake.

Hahaha! Oh my God! First things first, how was it? I know its certainly not my best work, I wrote this in an hour- but it's my first official wholly completed fanfiction! This is for @probably-not-a-rutabaga 's Trolley Problem Poll they had with their Tmnt Aberration Au! Go check them out, they make super cool stuff.

Anyway, I hope I did you justice! This was so fun to write :))

#purple writes #tw death #tw murder #tw blood #sooo #im so sorry if this looks so bad #im so tired #againg i wrote this in one hour so it probably looks like a hot mess #but...#WHATEVS/lh #tmnt aberration fanwrites

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threadbaresweater · 1 year

Text

a temporary reprieve

You knew that a relationship with Aki Hayakawa was a risk. You vowed to take it as it comes, to take care when it came to your heart and your future, but when you fall pregnant with his child, you realize that the best laid plans often go awry...

The details: 6.9k words. Heavy angst, little to no comfort. Not a happy (but a quietly hopeful) ending. Major character death. Pregnancy and childbirth. Very brief consideration of abortion. Mentions of vomit and nausea. Canon divergence. Shower sex, vaginal fingering. Mentions of bruising and blood. LARGELY UNEDITED, probably rushed because it really got away from me fast and I was terrified if I didn't end it here I'd write forever. Please read at your own risk. (Repost)

Aki is angry when you tell him.

You knew he wouldn't be happy; to be frank, you weren't exactly thrilled. You'd been together long enough that it had certainly come up in conversations about your future, but it was never a discussion. You both agreed that it wasn't what you wanted out of life. Aki had his own reasons, you had yours, and that was that. There was never any need to revisit the matter because you'd made your choice together. It should have been cut and dry.

The universe apparently has other plans, however, and the longer you stare at those two little pink lines, the more you realize you are only delaying the inevitable. You have to tell him.

"You okay in there?" His voice is muffled from the other side of the bathroom door, but it still makes your head spin with panic. You turn on the water and flush the toilet, hands trembling.

"Fine!" you lie. "Be out in a sec."

Not tonight, you think. You need time to process it yourself. Maybe there are other options you could consider. Maybe it's a false positive. Maybe this is a bad, bad dream and you'd wake up in a few hours and nothing would be any different than it was before you went to bed. Maybe…

"Hey, we're gonna be late. Not trying to be a dick, but–"

You open the door and smile brightly at him– too brightly, you fear– and your boyfriend raises a brow in a look you know so well, the one that tells you he knows you're hiding something from him and he thinks you're stubborn for even trying. "Ready!" You say, clapping your hands and brushing past him to grab your shawl off the back of the couch. "Sorry for taking so long. I just wanted to look nice tonight."

Aki softens and leans forward to kiss your temple as you bend to strap on your shoes. "You always look nice." He's so sincere that it makes you feel bad for lying to him. You keep your head lowered a few seconds longer than you need, makkng sure the buckle is secure.

"Let's go," you say, threading your arm through his. "I'm sure everyone's waiting for us."

The restaurant is one of Makima's favorites: upscale, swanky, suit and tie required. Bone china, polished silver, crystal and linen as far as the eye can see. You feel Aki stiffen at your side when you enter and you squeeze his hand to quietly reassure him. His thin, strained smile says it all when he looks at you– let's make this quick. You nod in understanding just as Makima comes to greet you.

She's dressed to the nines in an outfit that must be worth a year of your salary, hair in a perfectly coiffed updo that accentuates her long neck and diamond teardrop earrings. Her smile is syrupy and almost too sweet when she bids you good evening and offers her hand to Aki. He hesitates, then lifts her knuckles to kiss them lightly.

"Good boy," she says, looking directly at you; for some reason, it makes your face feel hot and you duck your head. "Our table is in the back. Come with me, won't you?"

The entirety of Division Four is present. You hear Denji and Power before you see them, half expecting them to be throwing food across the table at each other. You feel like a proud aunt when you see them sitting next to each other, chatting excitedly about their latest kill. When they see you, Aki, and Makima, they straighten up in their chairs and smile. You can't help but wave and smile back.

A waiter comes to ask what you'd like to drink. Aki orders himself a whisky, then nudges you gently when he sees your nose buried in the menu.

"Hm?"

"What do you want to drink?"

"Oh– oh! Um, water's fine."

You lift the menu back up to your face and pretend to be deeply engrossed in the selections.

"Babe? You're sure you don't want something else?" Aki asks quietly. It's not like you to endure these outings without an alcoholic beverage.

You nod. "Mm-hm! Water's fine, thanks," you confirm, hoping that no one is watching too closely. You have a terrible poker face.

At your side, Aki shrugs and lifts his eyes to Makima, who sits directly across from him. She's been watching the entire exchange with scrutinizing eyes, but decides that now isn't the time to bring up your strange behavior. First, she'd like to have a pleasant dinner.

Division Four is smaller these days; devil hunters with balls and brains are hard to come by, and Makima seems to keep those who have stayed with her even closer now. Tonight is a celebration of a month of work without casualties. It's a bittersweet get-together, and almost everyone ends up eating their fill and probably drinking more than they should. You're uncharacteristically quiet; so much so that Aki keeps a reassuring hand on your thigh and gives you a squeeze now and then. He's worried about you, but he engages in conversation with others just the same.

Makima says your name, and you look her directly in the eye, your lips quivering into an uncertain smile. "Are you feeling alright?" she asks. To the naked eye and unwavering ear, it’s an innocent question. But the way she studies you creates a bubbling sense of unease in the pit of your stomach. You take a long sip of your water while maintaining uncomfortable eye contact with her, then use the linen napkin from your lap to wipe your mouth.

“Just fine,” you lie. You know she sees right through it. Makima isn’t someone you normally want to be dishonest with, but this is not the time nor the place to reveal what’s really going on.You swallow again and rub your cheek, the intensity of her gaze making you the one who looks away first. “A little tired tonight, that’s all.”

She rests her chin in her hand and narrows her eyes a little, her painted lips turning down into a deep frown. “Mmm. Maybe you and Aki should call it a night. I’d hate for you to feel worse if you stayed out too late.”

Aki hears his name and is suddenly a part of your conversation with Makima. “What’s that? I didn’t catch it.”

“It’s nothing, Aki, I–”

“I was just telling her that maybe you ought to leave a little early if she isn’t feeling well. You should take her home, Aki. She looks a little pale.” She looks smug, and you reach under the table to squeeze Aki’s hand that’s still resting on your leg.

If the situation gets any more awkward, you’ll crack and just blurt it out. You have a brief, lucid daydream where you stand up and shout I’M PREGNANT WITH AKI’S CHILD! And everyone in the entire restaurant turns to stare at you and you give birth right there on the expensive, white tablecloth. You shake your head to shatter the image and find Aki’s face close to yours, a crooked finger lifting your chin so that he can get a better look at you.

“Makima’s right. You okay? We can go, if you want.”

You look around the table to find that it's fallen silent, and everyone watches you with bated breath. Power has even paused mid-bite with her jaw open, waiting on your answer. So you nod and push your chair out, standing a little too quickly. Your fork chatters to the floor and shatters the deafening silence. "You're probably right," you concede. "Thank you for dinner, Makima. It's been a pleasure."

The drive home is just as awkward. You insist on driving, as Aki took advantage of the free drinks, and you spend most of the drive biting your tongue and contemplating the best way to tell him the news.

Aki isn't an idiot. Your silence speaks volumes; he lights a cigarette and rolls his window halfway down to ease the tension. The smell– which normally doesn't bother you– makes your nose itch and your stomach lurch. You roll your own window down to let the cool night air refresh you.

"What's going on?" he asks, his eyes trained on you under the glow of a stoplight. Fat drops of rain start to fall on the windshield of your car, distorting your view. You watch them streak across the glass instead of looking at Aki. "Did I do something to make you mad?"

He's holding back his anger, his confusion, but it spills over in the tone of his voice. There's a quiet strain, as if there are more words caught in his tongue and he doesn't quite know how to form them in a way that won't upset you further, if indeed you are angry at him. He's painstakingly combing over details of the last few days in his mind, trying to pinpoint the moment when you might have been offended, but he genuinely can't recall anything.

The light turns green and you make a turn toward home. "You didn't do anything, Aki. I swear."

He's quiet for a few seconds, dragging on the last of his cigarette. "Then what is it? Did something upset your stomach at dinner? Are you in pain?"

His concern brings tears to your eyes and you shake your head, focusing on your grip on the steering wheel. You shift in your seat and fidget with your seat belt. "I'm a little sick, yeah. Started before dinner though."

"Why didn't you say something then? We could have stayed home if I'd known." He sounds annoyed. "This wasn't a required thing, you know? Makima would understand–"

"No, Aki, I don't think she would have," you retort, snapping at him far more angrily than you meant to. Both of you know you're right, and you let it sink in for a few seconds. You snap your lips shut and turn them into a deep frown, the shame washing over you in a cold, uncomfortable wave. "Sorry- I didn't mean to snap at you."

When you arrive home, he reaches over to grab your hand just as you unfasten your seat belt. His grip is strong, but not forceful. "Please," he says in the darkness. "Please tell me what it is."

"Upstairs," you say, pulling your hand away. "I'll tell you upstairs."

The walk to your shared apartment is too short. Aki walks behind you, step by step, and your keys jingle in your hand. Your heels feel too tight, the pins you put in your hair pressing too hard against your scalp. When you reach the door, you take a deep breath and turn to face Aki, meeting his hardened gaze for the first time in at least a couple of hours.

"Promise me something."

He squints, his mouth open just enough that you see the lick of his tongue behind his teeth as he tilts his head. "Promise what, exactly?"

"Please don't be mad at me."

He huffs a short laugh, scratching the back of his head. "Depends on what you're going to tell me."

You start to protest, but decide that he's right. You have no business telling him how he's supposed to feel, so you open the door and immediately unbuckle your shoes upon entry. Aki sheds his jacket and follows you to the kitchen, where you brace yourself against the counter to gather courage. The clock above the sink ticks away the seconds, and Aki stands before you, an arm's length away, but doesn't touch you.

"It's not good news," you whisper.

Aki’s lip curls a little and he crosses his arms. "Yeah. I figured it wasn't."

"I, um." You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. "I was late. And I took a test, and…uh…" You look at him with a mixture of hope and fear. You don't want to have to say the word– somehow it feels less scary if you don't.

Aki's eyes haven't left your face, but as he mulls over your clumsy confession, his breathing grows more labored and his cheeks flush bright pink. He steps back and lifts a trembling finger. "No…no no no no." His voice raises in volume and intensity. "We said that wasn't going to happen. You were supposed to be on the pill. We've been careful. You– I…" He shakes his head in disbelief and backs up further as if it will soften the blow.

You reach for him, but your hand falls lifeless to your side when he takes another step back. "Can we talk about it?"

He laughs, incredulous, pushing his hand through his bangs. "Talk about what? What's there to talk about? You wanna talk about how fucked up this is? About how we agreed to fucking be careful and prevent something like this from happening in the first place?" He opens the sliding glass door to the balcony and steps outside. You follow, tentative and quiet, watching as he lights another cigarette. "What the fuck are we going to do? This- this isn't…"

Now Aki is the one who won't look at you.

It pains you to even consider, but you know there are options. You lean against the open door, pushing away tears with the heel of your hand. "I mean, I don't have to…" You trail off, looking down at your toes. "I haven't been to the doctor yet, so I don't even know how far along I am, but I could find out, and we can talk about what to do then."

He doesn't say a word. You can feel the ire boiling, rolling off the stiffness of his shoulders and the way he exhales the smoke with impatient force. You don't prod him for a response. With Aki, you've learned that he likes to choose his words carefully and not speak from a place of impulsive emotion. Instead, you step back inside with a deep, wavering sigh.

By the time he comes back inside, you've changed into your pajamas, removed your makeup and jewelry, and crawled under the covers. You're lucid enough to sense when he comes into the bedroom and quietly shuts the door, but you don't make a sound. Instead, you lie still and pretend to be asleep as he goes to shower. When he finally climbs into bed with you, he lies awake for hours, staring at the ceiling.

When you wake up in the morning, he’s gone.

You don’t panic at first, though morning sickness hits you like a freight train as soon as you sit up. The room spins and you break out in a cold sweat, the wave of nausea washing over you and making your skin crawl. Thankfully it’s only a few steps to the bathroom, where you fall on your knees in front of the toilet and heave until there's nothing left but bile. You stand and brush your teeth, but gag on the bristles of your toothbrush on your tongue and end up vomiting again. It takes you several minutes to feel capable of standing without feeling too wobbly, but once you're okay, you go to the kitchen to heat up the kettle.

You're used to occasional mornings alone when Aki works. You try to tell yourself that he got called out on a mission, but this feels different. Usually, there's an air of expectation when he's at work and you know he'll be home, almost always by the time it gets dark. This morning, there's a finality to his departure. You don't recall if he kissed you goodbye like he usually does, or if he told you he loves you in the dark stillness of the early morning. He hasn't taken any additional belongings that you can see, and you try to reassure yourself that he'll be back this evening, but your gut tells you otherwise. Most of the day is spent dozing on the couch, nibbling on saltines and sipping peppermint tea to keep your nausea at bay. It's mundane and routine, but it comforts you to do a load of laundry, to sweep the rug, to add a little birdseed to the feeder on the balcony. The life you've built with Aki– despite the imminent danger he's in every time he goes to work– is, by contrast, quietly domestic. It's almost picturesque what you've built together.

Now, there's another life to consider.

Somehow you muster up the courage to call your doctor's office to schedule an appointment. They tell you at first that the only available time won't be for another three weeks, and you panic. If you're to consider termination, you need to find out exactly how far along you are now so that you can decide how to proceed. Without explicitly saying as much, you tell the receptionist that you've been having a terrible time with morning sickness (it's not a total bluff) and you'd like to have a sooner consultation. She sighs heavily and miraculously finds an appointment for you two days from now.

Two days. You hope Aki comes home to go with you. The thought of him leaving for good is one you just can't shake. It's so out of character for him, but considering the way he reacted when you told him the news last night, it’s not totally impossible to fathom.

It turns out your gut wasn’t wrong, after all. You don’t sleep a wink the first night.

You’re due at work the following morning, but you’re so nauseous and exhausted that you call in sick. Your boss is understanding and tells you to take it easy, but she doesn’t know the extent of what’s happening. Next, you try Aki’s cell. He usually only carries it for work, and since the charger is still plugged into the kitchen counter outlet, you don’t figure you’ll have any luck. When it goes straight to voicemail without even one ring, your fears are confirmed. Though Makima is the last person on earth you want to talk to right now, you know she’s also the first person who might be able to give you a clue as to Aki’s whereabouts.

“Public Safety, Makima speaking.” Her voice is crystal clear and cuts through your courage like a hot knife, splitting you in two. You stammer into the speaker, and her laugh lilts down the line. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to speak up. I can’t understand you.”

You take a deep breath and tell her who’s calling. “Have you seen Aki?” you ask– hopeful, tearful, palm clasped over your mouth to quiet your sobs.

“He’s out on a mission right now. May I leave him a message for you?” She’s cold and detached, just as you knew she’d be. You’ve never been able to crack her, and you’re not sure you even want to. There’s something about her that leaves you feeling unsettled and exposed every time you’re around her, as if she knows all of your secrets but won’t tell you which ones she’s thinking about the most.

“Do you know when he’ll be back? Like, even an estimate? Or where he is?”

“I’m sorry, that information is classified. As soon as he’s back in the office, I’ll have him call you.”

“Wait, Makima, I–!”

She sighs softly. “What is it?”

You hesitate, lowering your head in defeat. “It’s nothing. Thanks anyway.”

“Give him time,” she says.

“I’m sorry?”

The line goes dead before she responds, and you’re left to wonder if she knows. And if she does…is it because Aki told her, or because she figured it out at dinner the other night? Or perhaps she has another way of knowing, and that’s why you felt so uncomfortable in her presence that night.

When Aki doesn’t return home for the second night in a row, you worry more about his safety than what lies between you. If he was injured or killed on the job, surely someone would have reached out to you by now. Although you’re not married, you’re the closest thing to family that he has. It’s tempting to call the Public Safety office again, but you know who will answer and what she’ll say. So you shower, you dress in Aki’s pajamas, and you crawl to his side of the bed where you try to catch a little bit of sleep.

You've been sleeping so lightly that any small sound is apt to rouse you, so it's no surprise that you'd be keenly aware of the front door opening. The clock at your bedside indicates that it's past three in the morning, and you sit up just as Aki's shadow appears in the doorway to your bedroom.

You hold your breath, waiting to hear him say something– anything. But he's quiet and still, hands pushed into the pockets of his pants, shoulder leaning into the doorframe. Moments pass between you, and he sighs.

"Hi," you whisper, tentative and unsure.

It's his signal to move. He sits down on the edge of the bed and rests his hand on your knee, studying your face. He looks like he's falling apart. Angry, purple crescents beneath his eyes tell you he hasn't slept. He's dirty– old blood streaked across his cheek, under his fingernails. Now that he's closer, you smell the booze, the stale smoke, the acrid coppery scent of blood and sweat and struggle. Your stomach lurches and try to breathe through your mouth instead of your nose. You won't let it ruin this reunion.

"I'm sorry," he offers. "I got a call, and I had to go. There wasn't time to–" He chokes, inhaling sharply and pressing his hand to his mouth to hold back his sobs.

"Oh, Aki…" You sit up fully and wrap him in your arms, tucking your head between his neck and shoulder. He stiffens at first, confused and overwhelmed with your affection, but soon you feel the tension in his body melt away and he allows himself to be held.

He does lift his arms to fold them around you, eventually. There are a million and one things you could both say, but the silence speaks volumes. The fact that he's here with you, that he came back, that he hasn't made the decision to run is relief enough. You know him well enough to know that he wouldn't have the heart to abandon you, but the overwhelming fear of not knowing his whereabouts for the last two days had you thinking all sorts of horrible things. You know his past, you're living in his present right alongside him. But you can't read his mind.

There's a ritual when he comes home from missions, and though he doesn't expect you to help him this time, you do so anyway. You peel his jacket from his shoulders, you take out the knot in his tie and undo the buttons on his shirt, all while the shower runs and steam begins to waft toward the ceiling, creating a warm haze in the confines of your small bathroom. You carefully pull the elastic from his hair and run your fingers through the soft, black strands while he slips his thumbs into the waistband of your pants (his pants, he notes, and his heart swells with guilt) and helps you step out of them.

The water washes away his tension, but the resulting fatigue overwhelms both of you. He's not wounded this time apart from a few small scratches on his face and a larger one on his left shoulder, but the bruises you find tell you that this mission was no small struggle. Aki follows the path of your fingers with tired eyes as you gently circle each blemish on his tender skin.

"What's it like?" he asks, barely above a whisper.

You furrow your brow, wrinkling your nose to keep the tears at bay. "What's what like?" You think you know, but you ask anyway.

Aki places a trembling hand on your abdomen and looks at you meaningfully. "This."

Despite your best efforts, the tears fall anyway and mingle with the water that's misted over your cheeks. You cover his hand with yours. "I don't really know yet. I don't feel any different except for being sick to my stomach all the time."

He frowns a little, then trains his eyes down to where your hands meet. "Do you think the…" He pauses and swallows thickly. "The baby…will have my eyes?"

You shrug, trying to act nonchalant, but the hope that blooms warm in your chest is hard to deny. "Maybe. There's only one way to find out." You look at him expectantly. "I have an appointment today... Do you–"

"I'll come with you," he says. It's resolute and determined, and you know in your heart that he's already decided what the outcome will be.

Before you can say another word, he's kissing you. It tastes of melancholy, of longing, of long nights of missing you and worrying that you've already made up your mind. You wind your arms around his neck and he turns, pressing you against the shower wall with his body hard and slick against your own. His kisses take a desperate turn, and his hands knead and grab your flesh as if it's the first and last time he'll be able to touch you like this. You kiss him back with equal intensity, the taste of him mingling with the saltiness of tears– yours or his, you're not sure.

His kisses fall to your jaw, to your neck, tongue tracing over your skin as one hand falls between your legs. You grip him tight around the shoulders with one arm and brace yourself against the wall with your other as he works his fingers just inside, flicking them softly over your clit until your quiet moans fall on his ear.

"I'm sorry I disappeared," he says again, lips grazing the shell of your ear. You feel his hardness pressing just under your belly button and you widen your stance, eyes shut tight against the deluge of water and the desperate need for him to be inside you. You can't bring yourself to care much beyond this moment– past or future, it doesn't matter. He's here now, and he's all you need.

"It's okay," you say, earnestly, your voice climbing a few notes when he grips the back of your thighs to lift you. Back against the wall, arms still wrapped snug around his shoulders, your body welcomes him with practiced ease. Aki takes a moment to steady himself, to feel the warmth of your sex envelop him, before he begins rolling his hips up against yours. You gently scratch your nails through his hair and across the back of his neck and lick your way into his mouth in a deep and dirty kiss. He groans low and gritty, his breath hot and heavy on your tongue.

It isn't long before the intensity builds for both of you. Within minutes, he's moving at a near frantic pace, fucking into you as hard as he can manage without slipping from his position on the slick tub floor. Your legs are wrapped tight around him as he moves, each thrust making your back slide along the wall to create an angry sounding squeak of skin against vinyl. Neither of you are in any state to care or even notice. When Aki comes, he pushes hard up inside, staying there without moving to feel the way he pulses, the way your pussy flutters and spasms around him, accepting all that he's giving to you.

Panting, he helps you lower one leg as he slips out of you, then replaces his cock with gentle fingers. "Got carried away," he says with a quiet, breathless chuckle, kissing his way up from your collarbone to just under your jaw before capturing your mouth in a kiss again. He knows just where to touch and how to kiss you to bring you to the brink quickly, and you're soon falling apart around him, a quivering, wet mess at the hand of your very own devil hunter.

According to blood work and an ultrasound exam, you're seven weeks along. The doctor's report is positive, and you're given medicine to help with morning sickness, which they say should be manageable by the end of your first trimester. Aki listens carefully from the chair beside the examination table where you sit, absorbing all the information until his head spins. It's overwhelming for both of you, but there's no denying the little, flickering flame of excitement when it comes to imagining the future.

The months fly by. Your morning sickness is replaced by a voracious appetite for noodles and dumplings and almond tofu. Quiet moments are spent with Aki's hand on your swollen abdomen, your feet in his lap, and a tiny human who seems to enjoy practicing somersaults against the warmth of her father's palm. The quiet domesticity you've built together over the last couple of years has a new intensity to it now, and it's increasingly difficult for you to face the reality of Aki’s devil contracts. You don't want to think about it, because ultimately you know that he isn't going to see your child grow up.

Two years, the Curse Devil had proclaimed after Himeno had passed. You'd met him a few months prior, and at the time you were blissfully unaware of his occupation. He didn't want to have feelings for you, but the more he tried to deny them, the stronger they became. He was honest with you only when he realized how serious you were about pursuing a relationship with him, and he fully expected you to run.

You loved him, though. And you told him as much one evening after you'd drug him to your favorite hangout, drunk on cheap spirits and his warm hands under the hem of your shirt. And for the first time, Aki thought that maybe there was something in this world worth living for beyond revenge.

It wasn't until you told him you were pregnant that he even considered retiring from Devil hunting, though. Working for public safety had been what he thought was meant for him. Nothing else made sense. Though it could prove fatal for him to even consider abandoning his contracts, he did consider going private.

Makima's cold, hard gaze makes him feel small and insignificant, and he shifts uncomfortably from where he stands in front of her desk, hands clasped behind his back. His courage wanes the longer she stares, and he knows exactly what she's going to say before the words even leave her mouth.

"You can resign from Public Safety, Aki Hayakawa. But the devils you employ have nothing to do with your paycheck or your conscience."

He bows his head. "Yes, Miss Makima. I understand."

"Hm. Do you also understand that the life you've created will not have any bearing on the length of said contracts? That devils do not care for such trivial human matters?"

Aki grits his teeth, fingernails digging into the fat of his thumbs. "I do."

"And that doesn't change your mind about staying with Public Safety? Public or private, Aki Hayakawa, you'll still be required to call on them from time to time in order to keep fighting."

"I understand, ma'am. Respectfully, I'd like to think that going private might buy me a little more time."

She sits back in her chair and folds her arms across her chest, tilting her head. "Is that so?"

He nods. "If I can choose when I fight, and how much, I can preserve what's left of the time I still have."

"What about money? You won't be paid regularly, or fairly for that matter. Don't you want to be able to take care of this child responsibly in what little time you have remaining?"

"I've been saving. And I have an insurance policy. Even years after I'm gone, she'll be comfortable." There's a solid lump in his throat, and he swallows around it before he continues. "Ma'am, I appreciate your concern, but I've made my decision. I'd like to ask that you respect it, and accept my resignation, effective today."

Makima stands and walks from behind her desk, smooth fingertips trailing over the mahogany surface. She steps, inches away from Aki’s face, and turns her lips into a derisive grin. "Have it your way, then. Though it's sad to see you give up so easily on the one thing that's given you purpose for all these years."

Aki holds her gaze, determined and steadfast. "I'm not giving up. If anything? For the first time, I give a shit about something other than vengeance. There's someone who needs me for who I am, not what I can do for them. And it's restored a faith in humanity that I once thought was hopelessly lost. And if you can't understand that, then I'm not sure we ever understood each other at all, ma'am."

He knows that when he turns and leaves her office, it won't be the last time he sees her.

You go into labor on a late afternoon in March. The previous days you'd been filled with an inexplicable energy to organize the bedroom closet and get every bit of lint out of the dryer vent. Aki watched you with curious fascination, ready to chide you into resting when your breathing became labored and your face began to shine with sweat. The nurse at your doctor's office called it "nesting", and while the term seemed funny to you at first, you soon realized that it came with a primitive purpose.

You were preparing for the birth of your daughter.

Within hours upon your arrival at the hospital, your daughter makes her bloody, messy, screaming entrance into the world. Aki watches from your bedside– fascinated, disgusted, terrified, enchanted, enthralled– as you give life to her with firm coaching from the swarm of nurses and the doctor who guides her out of your womb and into your aching arms.

There's a flurry of activity around your bed, but you only see her. Still covered in blood and fluid, little patches of vernix behind her ears and on her shoulders, you think she's the most amazing person you've ever laid eyes on. Ten tiny fingers and ten little toes– you count them one by one while she curls against your chest and Aki kneels at your side with a trembling hand laid atop your head. You coo at her when she looks at you and swipe your finger across her cheek to wipe away the tear that had fallen from your chin.

She has his eyes.

"Mamma, mamma! Look at me!"

It's a sweltering summer afternoon in the middle of July. There's a playground near your house that's become one of your favorite spots. There's a slide that your daughter swears is as tall as the skyscrapers downtown, and she stands at the top now, waving her little arm in an attempt to garner your attention. You look up from your book and shield your eyes from the sun that burns hot over her shoulder and smile to acknowledge her bravery. No matter that she's done it twenty times this afternoon– each climb is worth celebrating to her.

"I see you, baby! Go ahead! Show me how fast you can go!"

Her giggle is infectious, and she sits down at the edge. "Three…two…one!" Her squeal on the way down makes you throw your head back and laugh, and she nails the landing with her arms thrown in the air.

"Ta-daa!"

You applaud her bravery and showmanship, and she runs over to reward you with a hug that knocks the wind out of you when she throws her tiny body against yours and climbs into your lap. You stroke her silky black hair and hold her tight, despite the oppressive heat of the humid summer air and try not to think about the fact that Aki’s been missing for the last three days. The last time you’d seen him, he kissed you and his daughter goodbye in the wee hours of the morning, and you felt the familiar– albeit bitter– sense of dread wash over you that you felt every time he left on a mission. He’d kept true to his promise and only went out on calls that were deemed low-risk, fighting only in the private sector.

Your daughter had just turned three years old that spring. You celebrated her birthday with a trip to the bowling alley and a cake far too big for the three of you, but it didn’t matter. It was cause for celebration for more than one reason, and you knew it as well as he.

There wasn’t much time left. But you hadn’t realized just how little until you see Denji approaching where you and your daughter embrace on the park bench. He lifts a hand in greeting, but he doesn’t smile. His eyes waver, unsure of where to focus, and he takes a deep breath in through his open mouth while slowing his step as he approaches.

“Been a long time,” he says, kicking at a pebble on the sidewalk; your vision blurred with tears, you watch as it lands in a soft patch of grass.

You cover your daughter’s ear with your hand and keep her head pressed against your chest. “Is he dead?” you whisper, searching Denji’s face for the answers you so desperately need.

Denji looks at you, and your head spins, your heart lurches into a frantic rhythm. You kiss your daughter and send her off to play; she happily obliges, and Denji sits beside you, scratching at the back of his neck. “She looks a lot like him, doesn’t she?”

“Identical,” you agree.

“I’m real sorry.”

“I knew it was coming.” It doesn’t soften the blow, however. You’d known that his time was short since before your daughter was born. But no amount of prior knowledge could have prepared you for the way you felt in this moment. The day is too beautiful. The sun is too bright, your daughter is too bubbly. It was supposed to happen on a rainy afternoon when you had nowhere else to be but home, inside and warm and comforted by the quiet stillness of your living room. It wasn’t supposed to be Denji who had to deliver the news. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t–

“Miss Makima said to give you this,” Denji says. It quiets your thoughts when he speaks, and he lays a small yellow envelope in your hand. You know immediately what it is, and though in reality it weighs mere grams, it feels like the weight of the world in the palm of your hand. Suddenly, the world stops spinning, and you don’t hear anything beyond the thrum of your pulse inside your ears, steady and insistent and frustratingly loud; it demands to be heard, to serve as indisputable evidence that you’re alive and Aki is dead, that you’ve outlived him just as you and he both knew you would. You lift the flap of the envelope and dump the contents into your hand.

The ring has been cleaned and polished. A simple circle of plain gold; you’re immediately thrown back to the day you married him under the canopy of trees, just beyond the very playground where your daughter runs with her friends. He’d asked you not long after she was born, and you’d happily agreed. You didn’t want to think about how much time you had as Mrs. Hayakawa, you only wanted to enjoy knowing that you were his and he was yours. That was enough for you. Your vows were simple, your honeymoon modest. You hadn’t told anyone of your decision– you married quietly and happily, despite it all.

“Denji,” you say, tears streaking endlessly down your cheeks as you turn the ring over and over between your fingers. “Were you there?” Was he alone?

“I was called in at the last minute. I–” He hesitates, drumming his fingers on his knees. “He was gone before I got there. But I killed that devil! I tore his ass up, man! For you, for Aki, for your baby, for all of us!”

You smile through your grief, despite your pain. Denji’s energy is exuberant and exactly what you’d expect from him– it’s exactly what you need, and as you wipe your tears with the heel of your hands, you thank him. You thank him for being the one to deliver the news. You thank him for being Denji, for being such a frustratingly perfect coworker for Aki. You thank him and hug him until he’s tomato red and folded in your arms, unsure of whether or not he should touch you.

“Aw, man. I don’t even know what to say!” he says.

“Uncle Denji!” Your daughter runs over and you tuck the ring into your pocket and dry your tears. “Uncle Denji, did ya see me on the slide? Wanna watch?”

“Watch?!” he says, turning to give you a conspiratorial wink. “You’re looking at the slide master, little lady! Come with me!” He lifts her onto his shoulders and runs through the grass, her laughter ringing clear and pure.

You pull Aki’s ring from your pocket and fit it down over your thumb. It’s loose, but it’s warm and it’s comforting and it’s a piece of him that you can carry with you throughout the rest of your life.

You’ll break the news to your daughter tonight. You’ll figure out the rest later.

It’s all temporary, anyway.

#csm fanfic #aki hayakawa #aki x reader #aki x you #chainsaw man x reader

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