#so the voices here are probably way off/very OOC and i apologize for that. but hooefully this is still fun to read/imagine on some level | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

toruskiii · 6 months ago

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BEEP BEEP! YOUR RIDE IS HERE!

"𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘳."

Sypnosis: You ordered an Uber to get home— but something about your driver is… off. Not in a dangerous way, just weird. Genre: Fluff/Crack Characters: Blade, Boothill, Aventurine x gn!reader Warnings: NEVER let Boothill drive you around. Lots of reckless driving (keep your eyes on the road and follow traffic laws guys), Aventurine gambling addiction core, reader just gives up on Blade's part LMAO, a lot of cussing, this is pretty ooc😭 A/N: Heh...how long has it been since I last posted?! This has been rotting in my drafts for quite a while so take this as an apology [masterlist] [about me]

BOOTHILL

It’s well-known that Boothill has a reputation for stealing vehicles and disregarding traffic laws while he was in Penacony, so it’s safe to say he’s probably not the best Uber driver around.

But you were exhausted. Your feet were aching from walking around the city, and you were way too far from the train station. Besides, it was late, and at this point, calling an Uber seemed like your only option. You scroll through the app, frustration building as you realize there’s no one available to pick you up at this hour— except for one driver.

Boothill.

The name itself was odd, but you figured, why not give it a try?

That is, until you started reading the ratings and reviews. Now you’re regretting your decision and seriously considering texting your friends and family the car details, just in case.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 3 out of 5 stars. “A very odd fellow, and he almost got us both into a car crash!” ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 2 out of 5 stars. “I was a drunk passenger, but honestly, I can��t tell if I was the one who was drunk or if it was him.” ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 0 out of 5 stars. “Does this guy even have a license? He’s seriously reckless! But I’ll admit, he managed to speed across the streets and get me to my destination on time, even though I was running late.” >Cyborg69 replied: "Oi, don't cha think I should get at least 3 stars for that?"

You barely have time to read another review when a sharp honk pulls you out of your thoughts.

Beep!

"Hey, you the one who ordered an Uber?" A rough, almost drawling voice calls out, and you look up to see a man with black-tipped bangs leaning out of his car window. In all honesty, he looks pretty decent— well, as decent as someone can look when you realize they’re not exactly human. Penacony really does attract the strangest people.

His fingers tap against the car door, a playful grin spreading across his face as he gestures toward the vehicle. "Hop in! Front or back, your choice." he says with a casual shrug. You pick the back seat, deciding it’s the safest bet.

As you settle into the car, you’re immediately hit by the sharp, almost overpowering scent of gasoline. It catches you off guard, and you can’t help but wince. He notices your expression in the rearview mirror and lets out a low chuckle, rolling down all the windows with a flick of his hand. "Heh, sorry ‘bout the smell. Kinda rushed to... ya know, grab some fuel."

If his ratings didn’t already make you second-guess this ride, the way he spoke just sealed the deal.

“Oh! Uh, that’s fine.” You force a smile, nervously buckling your seatbelt as he starts driving. At first, everything seems normal. You keep glancing at him through the rearview mirror, your eyes meeting his for a few seconds before he quickly looks away, whistling casually.

"Don’t hafta keep lookin' at me, sweetheart. I ain’t no danger." He flashes a smile, but it doesn’t do much to ease your nerves. "So, headin’ home?" he asks, and you nod slowly, giving him an address near your place for him to drop you off.

As the drive continues, your gaze shifts to the interior of the car, and you can’t help but feel a little weirded out by some of the decor. A heart-shaped pillow? Really? That didn’t exactly match the vibe you’d expect. And a bottle of perfume— one that definitely looked like it belonged to a woman. Maybe he just liked the scent, but still, it felt… odd. After all, men’s perfumes could be strange sometimes. Who wants to smell like wolf shit and pig ass anyway?

Then again, he did kind of fit that description.

Maybe he liked the scent of blood— because suddenly, he floors the accelerator, speeding down the highway, earning a chorus of honks from terrified drivers.

“woAH!” you shriek, the force slamming you back into your seat. Your hands instinctively grab the handle above the door, knuckles white as the car swerves dangerously.

“Oops, sorry.” His voice comes out nonchalantly, but there’s no trace of remorse on his face— just that stupid grin. “Hold on tight! These folks on the road are way too slow.” With a wild yell, he floors the gas again, pushing the car even faster.

At this point, you’re just praying that if the car flips, you’ll go down with it. You didn’t want to survive whatever mess would follow if he really did manage to send the car tumbling. Your heart’s pounding in your chest, and you scream again in pure horror, watching him laugh as he skillfully dodges every car in his path.

“What the actual FUCK are you doing?!” you scream, feeling your life flash before your eyes.

“I’m driving! What else am I doing? Taking a dookie?” he retorts with a scoff, eyes flicking briefly to the rearview mirror. You glance back, and your stomach drops: blue and red lights. Are there cops behind you?

“Uh, ignore the cops, darlin’.” He waves his hand dismissively. “Pretend this is just some free clubbing lights for ya.”

You panic, a fresh wave of terror rushing over you. "I don't want to fucking club!"

"Woah there, panic at the disco, heheh."

You don’t find his joke funny at all when he suddenly misses the turn to your house, and for a brief moment, you actually consider choking him out from the backseat just to make him stop. But then, something heavy falling in the car catches your eye.

Wait. Was that a gun? Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.

He must’ve noticed your body stiffen in horror, because his free hand quickly rummages through his pockets. With a groan, he mutters, “Oh my Aeons— sorry, that’s my gun.” He clears his throat, and you can only deadpan at him, your mind racing. The reviews on his profile had to be way too generous. He didn’t deserve 0 stars. Hell, he should be banned, his license revoked, and his profile deleted.

But of course, he tries to reassure you. “Don’t worry, that’s, uh… a toy gun. For unruly passengers, ya know? Get it?” His sharp teeth flash in a grin, and you swear, for a split second, you see a glint of something dangerous. Then he curses some censored version of a swear word under his breath. “Ah, crap…I missed your turn.”

Yeah, you’re never booking an Uber again.

The car screeches as he whips it into a sharp U-turn, sending a cloud of smoke from the tires. You glance over to the police officer in the next lane— his bright blue eyes reflecting dim streetlights, a black-haired guy with an unreadable expression. But it’s the person sitting in the backseat that catches your attention. Two glowing golden eyes peer out from the window, face pressed against the glass.

“What the heck do they want from you?!” you scream, your body drenched in sweat as you grip the seat, heart racing.

Boothill shrugs nonchalantly. “Ehh... I dunno.”

Oh, he definitely knows.

He suddenly slams the brakes, and you slam forward, your face colliding with the back of his seat. Before you even have a chance to recover, you scramble out of the car, your breath ragged. But something catches your eye— there’s a pair of black heels in the backseat.

Wait. What?

“Think of this ride as, uh— on the house, ‘kay?” Boothill calls out from the window, giving you a thumbs-up with his metal fingers. You can barely catch your breath as you clutch your chest, your heart still racing.

“I’m kinda in a sticky situation— er…” His voice trails off as the sirens grow louder. He grunts, pulling the handbrake, but not before shouting at you as he slams the gas and speeds off.

“Remember to give me 5 stars on the Uber app!”

You stand frozen, staring in disbelief as his car disappears into the distance. Your mind is still reeling, trying to process what just happened, when the police car whips past you in a blur of lights and sirens. And then, you hear it— a panicked scream.

“HE’S DRIVING AWAY WITH HIMEKO’S CAR—"

AVENTURINE

After a long night of clubbing, you called an Uber, eager to escape the blinding lights and noise and head home. But what you didn’t expect was stepping into what felt more like another club than a car ride.

This didn’t feel like an Uber at all. The backseat was spacious, plush even, with a basket full of snacks— gum, chips, candy, just about anything you could imagine.

“Feel free to take whatever you want, yeah? It’s an accommodation,” a smooth voice drawls, and damn, you did not expect your Uber driver to be someone so... dazzling. A pretty blonde guy with striking purple and blue eyes, his gaze cool and calm. His cologne was strong but intoxicating, a heady mix of something sweet yet fresh.

"Are you sure I can take the snacks? No extra charge?" You raise an eyebrow, hesitating as you reach for a packet of chips.

"No extra charge," he repeats with a smirk, his hands casually gripping the wheel. He taps his fingers on the leather-covered steering wheel as he waits patiently for the car in front of him to move.

You mumble a quiet thanks before grabbing a few packets of chips and stuffing them into your bag, quickly buckling up your seatbelt. As you settle in, you start taking in your surroundings. One look at this guy, and it’s pretty obvious he’s loaded. The seats are unbelievably comfortable, and the extra touches in the snack basket are a little surprising. Alongside the chips, there are bottles of mineral water and other beverages, perfect if you’re parched. And judging by the brand of the snacks and drinks, it’s clear— this is first-class treatment. Something you’d expect to find on a luxury flight.

Suddenly, a tiny dice clatters against your leg. You freeze, slowly picking it up, unsure of what to make of it. He doesn’t seem to notice your hesitation, his grin widening as he speaks.

“Roll the dice,” he says, his tone playful. “The number you land on will decide where you’re going.”

You blink, completely caught off guard. “I’m sorry— what?” you stare at him in disbelief. “I just wanna go home, dude.” You hand the dice back to him awkwardly, hoping he’ll drop it.

He tuts, the sound almost childlike. “Ah, no, no, no. I offered you some wonderful snack choices, the least you could do is play along with my game.” He whines, like a petulant child, and you’re starting to feel uneasy. But there’s something about him that doesn’t scream dangerous— just weird. Definitely weird, like the one Uber driver you met last month.

“…And what is this about?” You furrow your brow, a little frustrated. “You’re an Uber driver, shouldn’t you listen to your customer on where they want to go?” You toss the dice back toward him.

“Please,” he suddenly pleads, slumping in his seat dramatically. “I have a gambling addiction.”

You raise an eyebrow, eyeing him cautiously. “What does that have to do with me?” You glance down at the dice now sitting in your palms.

He lets out a dramatic sigh, his eyes glazed over with a mix of frustration and longing. “My job banned me from going to casinos for a week,” he mutters. “So, I took this Uber job to kill time. The only way to salvage my boredom is to have my customers gamble for me.”

This Uber driver is definitely fucking weird.

“And what is your job, besides being an Uber driver...?” you ask, gulping slightly as you glance around his car, trying to pick up on any clues. His outfit, the decor, anything that might give you an idea of what’s going on.

“Well… I work for the IPC—”

“Okay, I get it now,” you quickly cut him off, your face twisting into an expression of judgment and unease. Those three letters were all you needed to hear. Of course, he worked for the IPC. All the people you've met affiliated with the IPC were just off. Like that strange Uber driver from last month? He was a huge IPC hater— and, oh yeah, he robbed a car. Then there was that girl you ran into last week, the one who casually introduced herself as an IPC worker. And trailing behind her? This bizarre creature that looked like an anteater... or a dolphin— you’re not even sure. You overheard it was her pet, but you’ve never seen anything like that in your life.

"Hey," he sighs, sitting up straighter in the seat. You’re desperately hoping he’ll drop the dice nonsense and just start driving already, but he stays put, even though the car in front of you has been long gone.

"I know the IPC has a bad reputation," he says, "but I promise you I’m not that bad."

"Yeah... not that bad for a guy who has a price on the IPC’s head," you mutter under your breath, and you catch the flash of recognition in his eyes.

“Oh! Boothill?”

You instantly regret even saying anything.

“I bumped into that guy last week— well, more like he crashed into my car,” he continues, seemingly unphased by your discomfort. “At first, he apologized. Then, out of nowhere, he pulled a gun on me and—”

Without thinking, you hurl the dice somewhere in the car, scramble to get out, and bolt for the door, heart racing.

"No tip???"

BLADE

It hadn’t even been five minutes in the car, and your driver was already chastising you.

"You're breathing too loudly in my car."

You freeze, immediately holding your breath, your hands clutched tightly in your lap. "I apologize—"

"Don’t talk."

You bite your lip, feeling your patience slip. Let me just fucking die then, I guess, you think, staring blankly out the window.

You glance over at the drawer in the car and notice a piece of paper peeking out. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you tug it out, only to find the words written in... lipstick?

“𝒲𝒽𝑜𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝒾𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝓅𝒾𝒸𝓴𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓊𝓅, 𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒶 𝓉𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓃𝒸𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒸𝓀𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝓇𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝒾𝑒. 𝒟𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎, 𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒶 𝒹𝓇𝒾𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓁𝒾𝒸𝑒𝓃𝓈𝑒!~"

What the hell? Why are all the drivers like this? You can't even begin to describe it anymore.

"If you're feeling afraid right now, I suggest you get off," his deep voice cuts through the silence, and without missing a beat, you nod— pushing open the door while he’s still driving and rolling out onto the pavement.

reader rn:

#i just realized I have not written anyone else besides these few characters omfg #originally this was going to have stelle and caelus but maybe next time #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr fluff #blade x reader #aventurine x reader #boothill x reader #hsr boothill #hsr aventurine #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr imagines

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akutasoda · 8 months ago

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* ☆ my heart's wish, a lover's gift

╰➜ wriothesley x reader

synopsis - it was, a humble wish. but sometimes they mean the world when they come true

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, small teensy bits of angst, maybe a tad ooc, probably the most cliche thing i'll ever write, wc - 2.5k

a/n: this is my secret santa fic dedicated to the one and only, super amazing sunni @scribs-dibs which i totally didn't rewrite completely with 5 days before the deadline... ahem- hope you enjoy this sunni!! im wishing you the absolute best and more, happy holidays :)

it was always a commonly known fact that wriothesley was always quite the busy man.

he spent most of his time down in the fortress. it was his job after all. although ever since you came into his life, wriothesley did try and spend more time away from the damp depths of the fortress - but when that wasn't entirely possible you could always count on letters back to you or even taking the initiative and visiting him yourself.

even during the holidays wriothesley was still required to be at the fortress, to nobody's surprise. he didn't exactly have the most flexible schedule and definitely didn't have defined holidays or even days off. so you weren't that disappointed to find out that he wouldn't have the winter holidays off as you expected that to be the case.

although that still didn't take the sting of realisation away. even a simple walk down the streets of fontaine could be a painful reminder of how little you saw the man you cherished so. seeing most people smiling and interlocking arms with their spouses or even simply being with their friends was a reminder painful enough to bubble that bitter feeling of loneliness back to the front of your mind.

even being home didn't help very much - opening the door to you and wriothesley's shared abode just to be greeted with silence was always a cold reminder as to where your lover was most of the time, at least the fortress was livelier than the lone rooms of the abode.

you often found solace in the fact that you knew that wriothesley would rather be spending his time with you. but the simple truth was that you loved him and he loved you, so you bore the cold isolation until he returned once more as you knew it would be worth the wait.

but was it really so much of an absurd wish for him to be home a bit more?

it was christmas eve.

the final chills of winter were more evident than ever, promising a few more days of sheer cold. but your day had been its same monotonous routine. a couple of errands had been run and companions of yours had been met - namely as most would be busy the following day.

but you were running out of things to do, ways to distract yourself. a part of you wondered if you could ever get someone to give wriothesley time off, although you had simply no clue on who would even be responsible for something like that

the streets of fontaine had never looked prettier. at least it was a pleasant sight while you wallowed in your own thoughts and dejection.

“may i ask what's weighing on your mind?” the calm, rather distant, voice served to startle you and scurry your thoughts away.

you looked to find neuvillette walking closer to you until he stood beside you, a quizzical yet composed look on his face.

your gaze became slightly downcast and you shook your head in an attempt to send a silent, unspoken, signal of “don't worry about me” before you looked up at him to finally verbalise something, something unrelated to his previous question

"what brings you out here at this time? surely you're quite busy?” and your assumption would be correct, it was barely the evening and so from what you remembered, neuvillette would most likely still be occupied with some kind of work

he let a small reassuring smile grace his face before briefly explaining something about having a break and taking a moment for himself

before he stopped briefly before continuing on a rather different train of thought, “apologies i digress from my true intentions, i'm here specifically to give you a message”

now it was your turn to be confused, “me? from who and what about?”

“i'm afraid it isn't that kind of message, as they only asked for me to ask you to meet them here” neuvillette hummed as he handed you a rather scruffy note

you read it's contents and something was itching at the back of your brain, you knew that handwriting. it looked so familiar yet you couldn't place exactly who it would've belonged to - perhaps your mind was too occupied to think clearly.

a brief thank you and a bid farewell was exchanged between the both of you as you began to make your way to the location. a million and one thoughts raced through your mind as to who would've wanted to see you right now, or even simply who.

it didn't take long at all for the named destination to be reached, neither did it take long for you to start thinking it was some kind of joke as it appeared nobody was there. maybe you were early? neuvillette wasn't exactly the kind to get himself caught up in jokes or pranks.. in your eyes anyway.

you looked down to the piece of paper again, rereading those same words, the handwriting still so painfully familiar yet completely lost on you as to who the owner was.

you flipped it over to see if you missed anything but the blank space led to that idea being quickly shut down. looking up again, you scouted the area to see if anyone was in the distance at least but yet again being greeted by the streets being bathed in an eerie silence, devoid of life.

a few minutes had passed since you arrived, it was cold and the evening certainly wasn't getting any earlier, so you decided that if this person didn't show up in the next couple of minutes you would just go home and confront neuvillette tomorrow. hopefully getting him to tell you who gave him the note and told him to deliver it.

just as you sighed to yourself, you heard footsteps approaching. looking around yet again, you managed to quickly deduce just where they were coming from - mainly by the distant shadow shrouded figure that was heading in your direction.

your eyes narrowed, attempting to try and deduce who it was and you swore from the figures stature and outline that you knew who it was immediately. but it couldn't be no? he would've told you if he had finally been granted time off.

your train of thought, and even slight bewilderment, was very quickly cut off when the figure got close enough for you to start distinguishing features.

features that undoubtedly belonged to your lover, the very same who you were not expecting to see anytime soon.

it took all your strength not to practically run and throw yourself at him - and judging from the way he stopped briefly before picking up the pace, nearly breaking out into a jog, wriothesley was fighting a similar battle.

although, he was losing his. as soon as wriothesley was in a reasonable range of you, he virtually tackled you into a hug. knocking you off balance to the point you would've fallen over should he have not been holding you.

wriothesley quickly had one arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest as his over arm worked its way up to allow him to place it over your shoulder, holding the base of your neck. at this point he was practically squishing you, but for now you couldn't care less.

you began to relax into his grip, slowly beginning to attempt to wrap your arms around his frame. it was almost as if the bitter cold of winter was long forgotten and the evening could slip away freely as for right now, all that mattered was that wriothesley was here. in your arms, embracing you after so long.

although it was only a matter of time before you started questioning why he was here. it wasnt that you didn't want him here, if anything it was the exact opposite but

it was simply the fact that you kind of expected him to not have the time to be with you anytime soon.

he pulled away first, it wasn't as if you had the option to anyway with his bear grip making it near impossible, but he brought your hands into each of his as he did so, holding them low. almost as if he couldn't believe himself that he was actually with you.

wriothesley could see your slightly confused expression and he could take quite the accurate guess as to what was the cause of your confusion. so he soon broke the air of silence between you

“you didn't really think i'd let you spend the season alone, did you?” his expression was one that was somewhere between a smug smile and genuine slight amusement that stemmed partly from his curiosity.

the obvious answer was yes.

you knew he wouldn't have done so intentionally, but it was pretty much expected that wriothesley was always more likely to be stuck deep in the depths of the fortress rather than in the comfort of your shared abode. so you hadn't expected him to be around, and even the mere thought of him having the holiday off seemed like wishful thinking on your end.

and he hadn't exactly told you otherwise at any point prior.

slowly, and slightly embarrassingly, you shook your head no and he let out a small awkward laugh

he smiled, “i don't blame you, even i only knew a couple of hours ago after i managed to fight my way into gaining these next couple days due to-”

his reasoning was soon lost to you.

rather admittedly, you couldn't actually care less about how or why he was granted a holiday and you definitely wouldn't question it in risk of jinxing him, somehow causing him to lose it and then he would end up going back to the fortress.

wriothesley quickly clocked your lack of interest in his reasoning and shook his head subtly, stopping his explanation which was losing its point by the second in honesty.

“nevermind, all that matters is that i'm here now and able to spend my time with you”

and with that, wriothesley gave you a smile, “so, how about we head home now yeah? it certainly isn't getting lighter”

you nodded.

wriothesley let go of both your hands, walking away in the direction of your shared home with you by his side. but it barely took a minute before he interlocked his fingers with yours on the side that was between you both.

he raised your hand in his slightly, “how about we stay like this for the journey? wouldn't want your hands to get cold now would we?” he smirked slightly at seeing you practically stare at him in disbelief.

all of sudden, the streets of fontaine seemed all the more brighter and livelier - despite actually having less people in them.

the lights twinkled brighter, illuminating a soft glow onto wriothesley's features as he talked to you about whatever was on his mind, namely what you both could do tomorrow with his day off.

you couldn't help but stare shamelessly at the joy evident on his face - something that was caused by the fact that he was thrilled to be able to simply spend time with you.

the walk home felt unreasonably quick, perhaps you were simply longing for more small moments like that wishing that they never ended - even if the end goal was back at home, with wriothesley by your side which only meant more time with him in retrospect.

upon opening the door, your shared abode feeling warmer and happier despite nothing actually physically being changed.

wriothesley stayed glued to your hip at all times. barely sparing you a minute to yourself but it wasn't as if you minded that much. he followed you like a lost puppy as you went about whatever you had to do, occasionally, and very regretfully, he would part from you to do his own thing before sprinting back to you.

and before you both started getting ready to turn in for the night, he turned to you, smiling softly as he brought you in for a kiss - one that held many apologies from his end but still carried the same warm feeling of affection, almost as if it was a promise.

a silent vow to you - one that pledged that no matter what, he would always hold an unmatched love for you and how he would always return to your embrace wherever it may be as that was his home.

you awoke the next morning, in your grogginess you could swear last night was a dream. some kind of wishful thinking to keep your mind occupied from a bitter reality. fortunately, it wasn't.

it would be hard to believe it was when you could feel wriothesley clinging onto you like some overgrown puppy, almost as if he was too scared to let go of you for his own fear of it being a dream as well.

but it was in fact a welcome reality, as opposed to the one you were more acquainted with of waking up to a usual half empty bed that was always stone cold to the touch.

he stirred when you did, pulling you even closer toward him, a silent plea for you to allow him to indulge in the gentle warmth that was provided by the air of laziness that was still very much present in the morning air. and who were you to reject him?

and to sweeten the deal, wriothesley began peppering your face in gentle kisses. opening his eyes ever so slightly and giving you a syrupy warm smile that was infectious - his messy bed hair making him all the more charming, evidence that this was one of the best rests he'd had in a long time.

it was this domesticity that you both craved.

the snugness of having small moments like this to give the reminder of what kept you two together. love so much more present in these times. just the two of you, in your shared house, not even doing anything, but it was more than enough.

you both could bare those bitter droughts of being away from one another if it meant that this was always what you two could return too and treasure.

truly all you could ever wish for was wriothesley back home in your arms - and he would do anything to fulfil that wish.

#hvntersecretsanta #x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #x gender neutral reader #genshin wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you

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thornbutch · 2 years ago

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One Night Only (Pt. 2) (18+)

check out my masterlist! ♡ | pics r not mine.

Part One | Part Two

Pairings: Jordan Li x Fem!Reader, (brief) Andre Anderson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Past experiences have wrecked Jordan’s perception of their true feelings. The pretty girl from a week ago isn’t making their situation any better. Cue angst and car sex.

Tags: Jordan Li x fem!reader, Gen V, Jordan Li is a toxic, jealous, sexy piece of shit, cursing, angst, sensitive reader, sapphic make out sesh, Corruption kink, smut, mature content, Jordan might be a little OOC? Sorry. I wrote this in two hours.

Word Count: 2.7k

Jordan Li was probably the most confusing human being she had ever encountered. Ever since that night, he had been ignoring her. She’d see him in the courtyard at lunch, wave, and be disappointed when he didn’t wave back. She knew he saw her. What was his problem?

A week went by since the night she entangled with Jordan. She had finally come to terms with the fact that Jordan didn’t see her as anything but a one-night stand. She couldn’t explain why she felt so hurt by this. Maybe Jordan regretted what happened. Or maybe she was some kind of revenge hook-up? She had dealt with that before; her body being used to make someone else jealous. But that didn’t seem like a thing Jordan would do. On the other hand, she didn’t know Jordan much. She knew he was number five on the list. She knew that he had been Dr. Brink’s TA, but other that, his story was a mystery to her.

The next time she saw him, she was determined to get his attention. She didn’t care if she embarrassed him. How dare he treat her like trash? He owed her an explanation. If she had did something wrong, she’d like to know. If he wished he could forget that night, she had a right to know. She doesn’t know why it bothered her so much, but it did. He didn’t have to fuck her again, but he could’ve at least waved or said hello when he saw her in public.

She had gotten information from Maverick, the dorm’s resident assistant. She demanded to know where Jordan’s room was in the sweetest way. She fluttered her eyelashes and put her hands together in a praying form, begging him over and over to tell her until he finally did.

“God, you freshman are so fucking annoying! Can’t a guy jerk off in peace?” She didn’t have time to wonder if he was jerking off in that moment, due to his invisibility. She’d question him again later on that, because ew.

She made her way to Jordan’s room, knocking on the door once, twice, three times.

“Coming!” She heard a feminine voice shout from behind the door.

Had she arrived at the wrong room? No, Mark was adamant on the floor level and room number.

Plus, she recognized that smell of hefty cologne from the night Jordan fucked her senseless.

So who was-

Oh. She had approximately five seconds to walk, no sprint, away from this situation. She could’ve made it behind a wall or scurried off into a communal bathroom. She had time.

But she stood there, dumbfounded and hurt.

The girl from the other side opened the door, “Can I-“

She stood there.

Her doe eyes brimmed with tears. What the fuck? What the actual fuck? She didn’t own Jordan. She wasn’t his girlfriend. He made it very clear that he didn’t want to be with her.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, “Wrong door.”

Before the girl had anything to say, she was running down the hallway and exiting the building.

. . .

That was all it took for her to move on. Now, she was back to her normal self. Fuck Jordan Li, and fuck whoever that girl was at the door.

She was undoubtedly pretty, but also handsome at the same time. She kind-of looked like Jordan a bit, but she highly doubted it was a relative. Some guys were into shit like that, fucking the “girl” versions of themselves.

Ick.

She was tired of parties. They were fun, sure. It was nice to get out and get drunk and fuck here and there, but she needed an escape from that environment. She opted to go to a bar instead, one of the local ones near campus that served as a hot spot for the students.

She put on a black, tubed dress that stopped at her mid-thigh. She chose one of her favorite leather jackets to match with it and similar-looking black leather boots that came up just below her knee. It was different than what she’d normally wear. The white dresses, jean skirts, and pink accents made her look cute, but it seemed like people took advantage of that. They thought she was naïve and not aware of their schemes.

She was smart, that much was evident. As pretty as she was, she was also sexy, and she’d be damned if she didn’t own that shit.

The bar was far quieter than the frat parties, but still loud nonetheless. Supes and normals mingled here. One thing they both had in common was their love for alcohol. It seemed to bring them together and offer peace against outside situations.

The moment came when she was asked if someone could buy her a drink. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place her finger on it. He had curly, dark brown hair and deep black eyes. He was good-looking, she couldn’t deny that.

“I’m a freshman,” she stated. The man laughed.

“You say that like I’m old,” he said as he bought himself a drink, “I’m only a junior.”

She smiled, knowing that he was in her age range and a fellow student calmed her. “I’m (Y/n).”

He took a sip from his glass, “Andre,” he replied, “You have a coin on you?”

She nodded, reaching into her black velvet purse to retrieve a quarter. She handed it to him, and he examined it thoroughly.

“Look,” he held the quarter between his forefinger and thumb, “If I could make this-“ she watched as the quarter transformed before her eyes, the metal twisting and bending to create the shape of a bird, “into her drink-“ he looked over at a woman sitting down, holding a champagne glass in her hand, “then you have to come home with me.”

“Oh, I have to?” She smirked.

“I don’t make the rules,” he shrugged and grinned back, “Just enforce them.”

Before she could reply, she felt a familiar presence loom over her. She turned around, met with a firm chest and a heavy scent.

Jordan.

“She’s not into your lame ass party tricks, Andre,” Jordan said.

Andre scoffed, blistering a false offended look on his face, “Lame? C’mon, Jordan, don’t be like that.”

Jordan rolled his eyes, “She’s not interested, got it?”

Andre rolled his eyes as well, his fists bawled up and the once floating medal bird turned into a dense ball, “It’s 2023. Women can speak for themselves.”

“Right,” Jordan looked down at you, finally including you in on the conversation that he interrupted, “Are you interested?”

She was taken aback by the question. She sputtered a little, swapping glances between Andre and Jordan. Whatever this was, she did not want to be apart of it. Fuck Jordan for ruining this.

“No.” She said. Andre held his hands up in defeat, grabbed his drink, and walked away from the bar and into the crowd. She turned back to Jordan then and stood up. “Fuck you.”

“You already did,” he said.

She pushed him then. “No, fuck you. Fuck you for being an asshole to me all this week and then popping up to ruin-“

“Ruin what, exactly? Where you going to go home with him, huh? Fuck him, too? Let him see you the way I saw you?”

“Excuse me?” She raised her hand to slap him, but he caught it. His grip was tight and bruising. A few bystanders gathered around them.

“Let’s go to my car.” Jordan tugged her towards the exit. She barely had time to register what was going on before she felt the cold breeze of the night air swift through her nostrils and blow on her exposed skin.

He opened the passenger door for her. A gentleman. What kind of gentleman would dare to ask to her that way? Just who did he think he was? Her fucking boyfriend?

She got in, and he slammed the door closed. She stared out the window as he felt the car dip a little with the weight of Jordan getting in on the driver’s side.

The car was silent.

“Are we playing the quiet game or something?” .

She nodded.

He sighed, “Look, you have every right to hate me-“

“I do.”

“-but I need to explain something to you.”

She could feel her anger bubbling up. Her knees bounced against the car floor. She continued to stare out the window. “Explain.”

“The girl you saw, she was-“

Oh, not this lousy and overused excused. He really thought she was dumb. It wasn’t just something she had made up in her mind. This was evidence.

She turned, tears just about to spill past her eyelids, “Your sister? Your cousin? Your best friend?” She scoffed, “You think I’m stupid. You ignore me for a week, a week, Jordan. Then you decide you can whisk me away like you’re some kind of Prince Charming?”

“That’s not-“

“You embarrass me in front a cute guy because what? You’re jealous? You don’t like to see your one-night stand hooking up with other people but don’t mind not bothering to wave back when she waves at you?”

“(Y/n)-“

“But maybe I am stupid. You asked if I was interested, and I said no. You opened the door for me, and I got in. You folded my panties and tucked me in and left and treated me like I didn’t exist.”

Jordan watched intently as she spewed all the horrible shit they had done to her. They didn’t think it would affect her so much. They’d hate to be ignored, too, but they’d get over it. They could tell she convinced herself she was over them, over the entire situation. If she was moved on, she wouldn’t have turned down Andre’s offer, and she wouldn’t have entered their vehicle.

“-and now you’re not fucking listening, great.” She folded her arms and dramatically laid back against the seat. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her makeup was ruined. Black streaks of mascara coated the skin.

“I’m sorry,” they said. “You’re right. Not about the stupid thing, the fucked up thing. It was wrong of me to ignore you, I just…” Jordan breathed in shakily. This was so out of character for them. “I didn’t think you liked me.”

She turned towards the window again, staring at her own reflection.

“And… the girl you saw wasn’t my sister, cousin, or best friend,” They could feel their chest tightening, “She was me.”

She watched in the reflection as Jordan morphed into the girl she had seen earlier. She turned back sharply, completely in shock at what she just witnessed.

“You-“

“Yeah. I’m bigender, or whatever the fuck,” Jordan sighed. They felt vulnerable in this form. They tucked a strand of their longer black hair behind their ear and looked beyond the front windshield, “I didn’t want you thinking that I-“

“That you’re into women who look like you?” She responded.

“Yes,” Jordan snorted, “But I was going to say that I wasn’t using you. Or- I didn’t use you. That wasn’t my intention.”

“Do you normally fuck girls and abandon them?”

“I normally don’t get jealous when I see someone else flirting with them,” they looked at her then, “I didn’t like what I saw. When he flirted with you using his medal-bending ability. It was corny.”

She let out a small laugh, wiping away her tears, “It was kind of corny.”

Jordan nodded, “I was… afraid. I’m not used to feeling like this, but I am used to it at the same time. Girls, they fuck me in my masculine form and want nothing to do with me in my feminine form. Guys are vice versa.”

She listened to every word coming from their mouth.

“I guess I’ve grown accustomed to blocking people out without asking if they’d accept both versions of me.”

The car was quiet once more.

“Accustomed,” she whispered, “that’s a big word.”

Jordan rolled their eyes.

“I don’t mind,” she was no longer looking at them, instead focusing on her hands that she held in her lap, “I wouldn’t have judged you. I’m not judging you.”

“You’re not?”

“I think you’re the most handsomest and prettiest person I’ve ever seen,” she said.

They could feel their ears tint with red.

“I understand why you were nervous, but I wish you would’ve talked to me before doing all of this,”

“I’m sorry,”

“I know,” she faced them, bringing her hands to cup their soft jawline, “I forgive you.”

Their lips met with hers, but not like how they did at the frat party. This time was more passionate, sweeter, and less rough. She broke the kiss to climb over the armrest and straddle them. Jordan leaned the chair back as far as it would go to give her enough room to sit on their lap. She took off her leather jacket. Their hands held onto her waist, keeping her in place. She liked being on top and knowing that she had no control. They liked being underneath her and knowing that they were still the dominant one.

They began to kiss each other harder. More hunger. They craved her. She must’ve worn this black outfit in retaliation. She looked pretty in white. She looked pretty in black. She looked pretty naked. She was the most beautiful girl they had ever seen, and now they had her right where they wanted her.

She had been hogging their memory ever since that night. They’d slip their hands into their pants during late hours of the night, fondling their clit and breathing her name in heavy gasps as they imagined her touching them. They pinched their nipples, imagining her biting them. They wanted to see her between their thighs, eating them out with her back arched and her eyes closed because she was so into it.

“Am I doing good?” They imagined she would say.

They’d tell her she was doing amazing as they fucked their pussy onto her face.

They’d have to take a late-night shower, having soaked their boxers in their secretion. Their shirt would stick to their back from how hot they were and how much they were sweating during a simple masturbation session.

They wondered if she touched herself. Maybe she was so pent up with frustration that she couldn’t help but fuck it out of herself. She’d use two fingers right off the bat. Her legs would be spread open, and her clothes discarded into a heap at the edge of her bed.

“Jordan,” she’d moan.

“Jordan,” she moaned.

They were brought back to the present, pulling away from her lips. Both of their chests rise and fell with great intensity. They bought their hand up to her face, placing their thumb on her lip and parting them. She opened willingly, allowing their thumb to enter her wet cavern.

She sucked feverishly, all while maintaining eye contact.

“Fuck,” Jordan cursed. They could feel how wet they were in their stiff jeans.

She pulled their thumb out of her mouth with a barely audible pop!

“I want to touch you,” she said.

Yes, yes, please, yes.

She pulled up their shirt, revealing a flat stomach that had the shadows of their abs present. They didn’t wear a bra. She was very understanding of that, too. It’d be extremely uncomfortable for them to shift and feel the hard clasps of the bra digging into their back.

She cupped their breast tenderly, swiping her thumb over the nipple. Jordan couldn’t tell if she’d been with women before. Was she an expert? Or was she just doing what she did when she touched herself?

She pinched and they shifted unexpectedly. She leaned back, her ass hitting the steering wheel and blaring the horn.

It was quiet for the third time.

They apologized for startling her. She told them it was okay.

Then, she busted out laughing, falling onto them. They laughed, too.

“I guess that’s a sign,” she said.

“A sign for what?”

“To take me back to your place.”

She didn’t have to say anything else.

#gen v #jordan li #fem4fem #gen v fanfiction #andre anderson #ooc #sapphic #angst #jordan li smut #smut #reader insert #x reader #Spotify

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xiwatchthemoon · 3 months ago

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déjà-vu

pairing : xavier/shen xinghui x mc

warnings : angst, probably ooc xavier since i suck at writing fictional characters in character, this was made super fast so it probably sucks lol

background : based off the lumière myth

word count : 1,01k words

AN : hi so this is the first oneshot and LADS fic i've done. it may be ass. i'm sorry. doing this to challenge my writers' block. btw english is not my first language so i apologize for the mistakes. and i suck at angst so this might be ass i’m sorry 💔

you find it odd that minutes ago, you were on the set of a movie. and now, you're in the middle of the city, taking care of the hordes of wanderers coming your way. xavier was on his own separate mission. jenna didn't assign him any teammate. you wonder if he's fine.

he's strong. he'll make it. he has to.

the commercial center is filled with wanderers. although the other hunters do their best to evacuate the civilians, casualties are inevitable. the news broadcasts were right on one thing : all of linkon needed a miracle, and that miracle should've been lumière. but rumours of his appearance were very weak. xavier explicitly said lumière must be hiding from the public after all these years.

it's no use getting your hopes up.

while you were too busy worrying about xavier, a wanderer sneaks up on you and slashes the right side of your waist. you suppress a scream after you feel the overwhelming, excruciating pain. you shoot the wanderers gathering around you, but they were definitely too many.

"[name], are you okay?"

captain jenna's voice sounded in your earbud.

"fall back. it's no use dying here."

"i can keep fighting..." you utter breathlessly, taking down wanderers one by one.

you feel yourself bleeding out. one hand on your open wound, you have to sheathe one of your guns. your mind gets hazier by the minute. your limbs, limp. you are not in control of your body anymore. at least, you don't feel like you are. your consciousness is slipping away.

you hear a scream coming from the commercial center. civilians try to escape, but around ten wanderers are blocking them. the last bit of strength is consumed at that moment, where you take down the apparitions. you feel your legs weakening, and before you know it, your knees landed on a pool of blood on the concrete. your wound got worse.

your mind is hazy. you can't stay focused. the sounds around you blur. you actually lose control over your senses.

the face of your boyfriend popped into your head.

"is he... okay?"

you blink, your eyes closed for a good second, and at that moment, you see someone in a familiar costume.

“lumière?”

how similar to the chronorift catastrophy. but you recognize some striking traits belonging to your beloved.

"xavier...?"

your eyes get teary. the man says nothing and teleports you to a quiet and safe place. the stars are shining brightly. he holds you in his arms, and once he takes his mask off, the distress is the first emotion you notice.

he puts his hands over your wound, trying to contain the bleeding. however, his hands are already drenched with blood.

"you're safe." you say laboriously, in between breaths.

"take deep breaths. people are coming for you. we're gonna get you patched up, okay?" he ensures, the despair heard in his voice. you just shake your head slowly.

"it's too late. i'm already dying."

he was too late.

he's always too late. he may give up his freedom, his life, he'll always be too late. whatever the sacrifice, he will always be too late, won't he?

"no, wait. you lasted until now. wait until help arrives, please..."

"stop. it's gonna be okay."

his hold on your wound gets weaker before he ultimately releases it. he holds your body in his arms. the night sky was dark, free of stars, which reflected the sorrowful events quite well.

"i'm happy i got to see you before i die," you say. a weak hand goes to his cheek, slowly stroking it.

xavier, who's seen you die already, should be steeled by now. but he's actually weaker than ever, a tear falling from his eye to your cheek.

"we still... have so much to do together," he whispered, his voice cracking.

"don't worry," you say, a small, weak smile plastered on your face, getting paler. "i'll find you in my next life. then, we'll be able to do all we promised."

"starting with watching a meteor shower together," he suggests.

"of course."

you chuckle, stroking his tearful eyes gently. however, he looks like he already lost you. his mouth twitches ever so slightly, as if he wants to muffle his cries.

"i didn’t want to be sad,” you say with a chuckle. “these last few months with you are everything to me. so please, don’t be sad.”

he nods his head slightly. you couldn't see his eyes, they were hidden by his hair.

"thank you for saving me, all these years ago."

"i'll keep saving you, over and over again."

"i know. but i wanted you to rely on me sometimes" xavier's breath hitches in his throat, a choked sob escaping his lips.

“but look what happens then,” he whispers. you could only sigh.

a tear drops from your eye to your cheek. you knew it'd be soon. you couldn't feel the warmth of his body anymore.

"i love you," you whisper.

"i love you too. i'll always love you."

"don’t forget me, okay?" your voice weakens. he nods, holding your body tighter against his body, trying to feel warmth. but there was no warmth. you were gone.

xavier feels constant vibrations from his hunter’s watch. eventually, out of anger, he opens them and hears jenna’s panicked voice.

“xavier, get back here. you’re gonna make us all die.”

he couldn’t speak. and when he did, he could only utter this.

“[name]’s gone. again.”

the captain stayed silent and let him process his emotions alone for a few minutes. the man cradled his beloved’s dead body, his tears staining her bloody clothes. as he eventually leaves their body, he only felt more and more nauseous, unable to truly leave them.

the next day, the fascinating tale of lumière saving linkon city was the talk of the town. and on the news, a hunter was reported dead after saving many lives in the battles. the report was ignored by everybody.

everybody but a man named xavier, who lost his beloved in the fight.

★no reposts ! please give credits to xiwatchthemoon★

#lads xavier #xavier x reader #xavier #xavier love and deepspace #xavier x mc #xavier x you #angst #lads mc #lads x reader #lads #love and deepspace #i like suffering

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heavenbloom · 6 months ago

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🇵🇸 BEFORE YOU READ: DONATE • BOYCOTT TLOU

ꫂ ၴႅၴ — 𝒂 𝒏𝒆𝒘𝒃𝒐𝒓𝒏 𝒔𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | 𝒑𝒐𝒆𝒕!𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒆

a vague continuation of this, but you don’t have to read it to understand this one

song: vicino a te — stevio cipriani

summary: after your first, brief encounter, ellie sends you a letter — with this sweet, foreign feeling blossoming in her chest, she’s too nervous to say anything in person.

warnings: 18+ mdni, fluff, letter format, ellie’s pov, yearning, kinda love at first sight, mentions of (greek) mythology, religious imagery, probably ooc, flowery language, not proofread

a/n: i should be writing other, bigger projects but i love letter writing so much, they’re the purest form of love

Dear moonlit one,

How terribly confused you must be by this letter; I am sorry for it in advance.

Perhaps it might have been more appropriate to visit you, to speak more than a few pleasantries before scampering off into the night, but, as you may have noticed… well, I have no talent for speaking.

How ironic that seems coming from a poet! Words are my profession, perhaps even my religion. I suppose, however, I can only wield them with ink and not with my lips. I have always been this way; a penchant for the quill in preference to conversation.

That is why I write to you. I can be honest here, without my nerves getting the better of me.

I want to express my deepest apologies for my insolence on that revelrous eve. Rushing off without so much as a goodbye in spite of your good nature was unkind of me, and there is no justification for it. Even so, I must explain myself;

Excuse my cynicism and my continuous irony, but I have never believed in a fairytale love. I have an apt appreciation for the picturesque and I feel deeply about many-a-thing; these qualities have made me an adequate enough poet, for I can replicate the beauty of the world that surrounds me. I can structure stanza upon stanza inspired by a scent or a face. I am an observer, therefore I have endured.

But a love that strikes as abruptly as a serpent unsheathes its fangs? A love that robs the lungs of air and renders one’s body feather-light? All because of a glance, a smile, a laugh— of course I was skeptical. How could one not be?

But it was not until I saw you on that argent night, dreamy and gentle, that I could at least come to an understanding. You appeared like the goddess Selene, so very luminous that no words could form in my useless mouth. What was I to say, in that moment? What words spoken could have done justice to the divinity before me?

And your laugh, oh, that laugh… it was as if the sound of your voice was laced with the very harps of heaven. I have not been able to listen to another’s joy without missing the beauty of yours. How foolish I am.

Why do I ramble in such a way? What I mean to say is that your mere existence has awoken me to the pearl ensconced within the centre of our lives. A precious and delicate thing that hit me, unabated. That is why I left you in such a hurry. I was enchanted, and I was afraid of it. In that moment, I was afraid of you, too. The power you held over me was seizing.

But I have gained my bearings. Of course, I cannot say that I love you, a stranger. I know near-nothing about you, and yet, in these sleep-laced hours before dawn, I wish I knew everything.

Sealed within this envelope are dried apple blossoms, birthed from a late-blooming tree. The little buds make the paper smell fragrant, but they also reminded me of our fleeting encounter. And of you; sweet and vibrant. Cheerful, even towards a person you had never spoken to. I hope they soften the suddenness of my letter.

In earnesty, I pray that you write back to me. Even if it is just to reprimand my audacious behaviour, that would be enough.

With sincerity,

E. Williams

#was inspired by that one letter by v sackville west to virginia woolf tbh #and romeo and juliet #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fluff #poet!ellie #tlou fanfiction

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windssong · 1 year ago

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take my hand // logan howlett x reader

summary: it’s probably a good thing logan doesn’t involve himself in school projects, you learn

basically: logan destroys school property but gets a date

oneshot-fluff, this is just fluff. suggestive material. flirting, a bunch of that. cringe but I am free! Not proofread I apologize

-probably ooc idk but i haven’t written anything in YEARS so this is a practice one for me. Enjoy!!! More fics to come.

word count: 1k+

masterlist

Persistent knocking on your bedroom door woke you out of an afternoon slumber gone on way too long.

“Shit!” The alarm on the stand read 7:15pm. You fell to the floor, tangled up in your own sheets. The wooden boards beneath connected to your forehead. You winced, peeling your face from the floor. “Fuck!”

You could hear Logan’s muffled voice from the other side of the door. “Are we going or not?”

“Of course!” You shout, shaking numb legs out from the covers. Trying to stand up took a few tries but you eventually got there.

Logan stood with one hand against the wall and one on his hip as the door opened. A stream of smoke trailed from the cigar nestled between his teeth. You wondered what it would be like to kiss him senseless, letting the smoke permeate your clothing, lips, everything. But you were just friends. Well, friends that also found a way to flirt in most situations.

“What the hell was that?” He cocked an eyebrow, leaning to look over your shoulder into your room, noticing the disheveled bed. “Got someone in there or something?”

“Yep” You went along with it. You turned towards your open window, dramatically sighing. “Looks like you just missed them.”

“I'm sure that’s exactly what happened here.” His lips turned upwards. It was hard not to get lost in his gaze.

“Lost inside that head of yours again?” His thumb slid over a small cut on your forehead that quickly healed itself over due to your mutant abilities. He smiled, his hand lingering on your cheek for a little bit longer. Like he was holding on to a moment. “There you are.”

You tried to hide the way he made you feel by straightening out your clothing. “I completely spaced out. Fell asleep going through Hank’s notes. By the way, did you know he wrote poetry?”

“Hank?”

“Yeah. He must have mixed it in with the papers he gave me earlier. It’s very good.”

“Great. Now you'll be serenading me with poems about science and shit all night.” No sarcasm oozed off him, he was dead serious. “As soon as we get to that party, I’m heading straight for the booze.”

Your eyes widened. You were still running late. “Orono is going to kill me.” You both started down the hallway, your pace out matching his for once.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’m late too.”

You grinned at the nickname, walking backwards to face him. “You wouldn’t be, I don’t know, avoiding this night because you were supposed to help and didn’t?”

He shook his head. “Look, I didn’t agree to work here just to end up becoming a gardener.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have destroyed the old one in the first place.”

“Hey,” he pointed his cigar at you, “it’s not my fault those government bastards decided to sneak in through the greenhouse. I can’t always choose my battle grounds.”

You looked at where his claws came out. “Those plants never stood a chance against you.”

“Nope.”

The way he said it so casually made you laugh out loud. “They were only asking for an hour of our time. Once a week.”

The greenhouse blossomed with life upon entering the new scenery. He took another drag of the cigar, embers floating through the air. “Well, would you look at that. Seems like they did just fine without me.”

You could feel the smoke on your face. “Wow, such a team player.” Logan laughed at that.

Ororo’s end of the year project with the entire student body was finally finished. A brand new, beautiful garden for mutants to study, take care of, and admire lay before them. Hopefully Logan could keep himself from destroying this one.

“It’s so pretty.” Your fingers lingered on a rosebush nearly blossomed. “Ororo really outdid herself.”

“She always does.” Logan put out his cigar, making sure to avoid the plant life.

Strings of light zigzagged overhead, a soft glow of white and yellow hues going nicely with the greenery. A large water fountain stood in the middle of the encasing plants creating a fork in the road. The pillar in the middle of the fountain had multiple hands reaching out from the center, as if they were beckoning for those below them to take their hand.

Voices came from the very far side of the greenhouse. You could hear your friends' and fellow X Mens laughter all the way from here. It would just be the teachers and staff tonight. The students will get to see the final results tomorrow.

“Fancy stuff.” Logan stopped in front of the large structure. “But doesn’t this seem a bit over the top?”

“I’m pretty sure this was the Professor's idea.”

“Of course it was.”

“I kinda like it. Feels very symbolic.”

He tapped on one of the white marbled hands with the back of his knuckle. “Sounds hollow. How about that symbolism?” But apparently that was a little too hard. One of the fountains arms gave away from the crack Logan made, and splashed into the water below. He stumbled trying to cover up the place where he chipped off the art piece. His feet ended up in the pool of water.

“Do you have some sort of grudge against this place?” You held in your laughter as best as you could.

He groaned, rolling up his sleeves. “Stupid thing.”

You tried to think of anything but him at that moment. But of course that always fell through. Wet skin shimmered against the last fading rays of sunlight. Strains of dark hair stuck to his furrowed forehead as he searched the water below.

“Oh come on, it can’t be that hard to find.” You shook yourself out of those thoughts.

His hazel eyes landed firmly on you. “It’s stuck.”

“What? How?”

“I don’t know, but if I pull it out, I’ll definitely break more than just the arm.”

You sat down at the fountain's edge and dipped your arm in all the way up to the elbow, curious as to how this could of happened. “It’s fucking freezing. Did Bobby have anything to do with this?” Before you could even begin to look a hand dunked your head into the water with a surprising gentleness. You gasped as you came up for air.

Logan held the broken arm up towards you, smirking at his actions. “Got it.” He wiggled it in front of your face for extra effect. “You didn’t need to do all that but I admire the desperation.”

You didn’t let him relish in the moment and splashed waves of water into his face. Beads of liquid clung to his mutton chops, the sweetest smirk clinging to his lips. He licked them, spitting out water. “Deserved.”

He offered the broken statues hand towards you, and you gladly took it. Stumbling a little too close, your chests nearly touching, the only thing separating you both was the broken piece of marble. The quiet laughter quickly faded as you stared back at each other. Your breathing quickened, the marble arm cool against your skin dripping with water. His white tank top was soaked, accentuating his upper body.

“We should try and reattach the arm.” Your voice was just barely above a whisper. “Do you think they’ll notice. Oh god, they’ll noice, won’t they?”

And then Logan gave you the softest smile you’d ever seen. Like there was a secret just between the two of you. He delicately moved pieces of wet hair from your face, as gently as wind blew leaves off the pavement. “And how do you think we do that?” A breeze ruffled your cold frames, but you could only feel a blazing warmth coil within.

The intense yet intimate moment was broken by the sound of Ororo sighing from behind you. “Well, you can start by getting out of the water and giving me that.”

Logan and you shrank from each other, hopping out of the cold water. He held his head high, putting the broken object into her hand. “Sorry about that.”

She put her hands on her hips.

“Again.” He finished. As he stepped back, his shoulders brushed yours. He never once bothered to move. You were more than happy to stand in that awkward yet sweet moment.

Ororo brought the marble hand up to her forehead, shaking her head. “Will you two just date already, this is getting exhausting.” She walked away, murmuring to herself about Logan’s “great” hospitality skills.

The two of you stood there, letting the water drip to the stone beneath. Logan shook his wet hair, trying to light his cigar. “You can ask me out tomorrow.” Is all he said, walking away, leaving a smoke trail towards the mini bar.

All you did was smile so hard you could feel your teeth hurt.

#wolverine x reader #Logan howlett x reader #the wolverine #logan howlett #the x men #ravens masterlist #fluff

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zumazumazumazumazumazuma · 2 months ago

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unji zuma x fem!reader, a night at his, and the reader is very.. chewy. has a problem with always biting her arm. he tries to help her

word count 5k

note: errrr slight mention of an inability for reader to care for herself and this is wholly a comfort fic. dialogue probably ooc

tags: biting, not smut, ventfic, comfortfic, unji zuma x reader, they fall asleep next to eachother, probably a fluff, dead dove do not eat, reader is kind of an incel. sorry watamote, reader gets a little physically hurt

Sitting at the school entrance, the cold wall began to feel intrusive. Stabbed into your back, joints aching from your crouched, inclined position, the prolonged pressure at your spine from supporting your weight kept you uncomfortable. And only seemed to build up without stop.

It was a long day, no, a long week, as you lay unmoving in your state, bones and muscle aching from how long you've been curled up by the gates. It was dark out. It was useless, and maybe even dangerous. You didn't fully know. As you watched the clock in the corner of your vision, you could only be grateful that maybe the dull aches at your back were the lesser of evils, knowing that if you didn't bring your jacket out today you'd have ran home immediately without a second thought. It wasn't just from the cold, but also because of a thing with your modesty.

It was fine; the light illuminated you, but it'd be off soon, right? Fingers feeling into your warm school jacket, you made yourself as small as possible to face the world. It was useless, but comforting. Squeezing in on yourself, you could make sense of yourself, through the meaningless action. From finger to toe, weak and scared. Stupid. Out of nowhere, you heard a light gasp.. you prayed it wasn't a teacher. You could've sworn you saw them leave already. Though truly who could be here at this hour?

Chewing, you bit your lip, the soft flesh giving way and pliable to your sudden hit of annoyance.

Couples. Ugh. They were the worst things. All giggling. Could they spend an hour off of eachother? Idiots. But asking them to get off eachother might be in their favour, actually. Snapping out of your thoughts, you blinked up at the sudden intrusion, tongue on your lip to soothe the ache of the wound that just so happened to burden you. No, the weather was dry out. No way you bit that hard in the sight of a- ugh.. vomit-inducing couple. Even the man looked ugly. Poor girl.

"What.. what's going on." He asked politely. Yeah, okay. This guy was? In your class. Maybe. You nodded, waiting for him to run along. Sorry for souring your date. Buddy. Stupid.. baldy. "Hey." Insistent, so much so that in fact, your solo date had begun to be ruined. Feeling rude to just ignore him, you could only manage an apology in a small voice, in hopes of dismissing him. With eyes back on your knees, the light from the wall was obstructed by his head, which shielded it from blaring into you from the corner of your eye. But his large shadow engulfing you only served to piss you off at his seemingly large, intimidating form. "Answer me, what're you doing here?" Really? If his girlfriend isn't here, how mad would she be at you when she comes back. "I'm.. waiting. For my boyfriends." A sudden devilish grin took over you halfway through the sentence. Boyfriends, though?! Multiple? You must've gotten ahead of yourself. Beginning to kneel beside you, he couldn't see as fear shot through your every vein at the sudden close contact, his girlfriend was a problem, sure, but he was picking you up!! For sure! "What're you doing here." "..I can't go home." "..."

Looking away for a moment to think, but it was over the second he started. "Wanna crash at mine?" Zuma said, almost unapologetic in his tone. Sleeping together, that's basically sex?! He suddenly moved, standing up, as half in shock you followed suit, he began to walk and called you over to get across the gates together. Why was he holding literally only an umbrella? And leaving behind his girlfriend? This was bad news. What a sleaze. "A-and your.. girlfriend?" "Girlfriend?" He looked dumbfounded. "No I.. I'm just here for my umbrella." "Wow, is it that useful to you?" Wow. He totally paused. In fact, you were walking in front of him now. "Mhm." Maybe he was caught off guard by the question. Oh god, what if it has like a totally touching story? You made a mental note to not bring it up anymore. "I don't live far, so the walk won't be long." Filling up the silence, you almost felt bad as the response from you was really flaccid, having just nodded conservatively, not wanting to connect with such a sleazebag who picks up girls after dark.

This run down.. what? Well it wasn't a motel, was it? Probably not, right?! The gentle clanging of shoes against steel stairs left you unsettled, everything here was unnerving. Why did you agree, even? Well could you refuse him? Did you even have the balls to talk to a guy, nevertheless turn him down?! No, no one step at a time. You spoke with him, you slept with him. The rest will come after. Maybe marriage? You weren't sure how to even hold the rails up the stairs. Don't you tear condoms with your teeth?! This world was so scary. Only really standing around and licking your lips as they dried, feet moving on autopilot, the blood a fading but very real taste in your mouth. The inside of his house was cleean. His dad was cleean. And looked furiously to his son for a reasonable explanation for why he came back with a girl by his side. He's so sleazy even his dad is pissed. Haha, this'll be fun to watch. "It's fine, it's fine, it's not what you're thinking," Yeah, lie to your dad, silly boy. Seeing him flustered is a good change of pace. "She just needs a place to sleep for a night."

Then, his dad's eyes roamed over to you. Wow. Intense stare. You weren't any part of this sick deal, you wanted to say. This isn't my plan, to lie to you! For a moment, you just wanted to keel over and apologize. "Okay." He answered, "I'm going to shower. There's food on the table for you." His dad's voice was gruff, but a bit cool. "..actually, I'll make something for her too." He pushed himself up on his feet. Wow, a muscular son and a muscular dad. And Zuma sat at the low table half wondering what the etiquette was for having a girl over and half hungry. In the end, you shuffled to the table, sitting next to him. Waited for the food, gave thanks and.. listened to the sound of his dad's shower. Hahahahaha. The man was quick, you could tell that. What an air of life to him. Seemed like a righteous, strict dad. Did they live alone, together? No wonder his cooking was so good. You haven't had actual hot food in a while. "Do you like it?" He didn't even care about your soundless replies anymore. Focusing on eating, he finished awfully fast and put his plate at the sink. Going into his room to change, you made a silent bet to yourself on who does the dishes. Two boxes of milk tomorrow for you if it's Zuma.

Wondering if you have to sleep in uniform, you didn't really bring yourself to care, drinking soup and eating rice. You weren't fast by any rate, and could feel time almost slowing down in this cozy home. It's been a while since you were away from the attention of either your parents or your teachers, and you could only dread the day that would come tomorrow when there's nobody to extend their sympathies to you for the night. He kind of stared at you after noticing you'd had still been eating, maybe the shock coming from the all male household. Trying to finish up quicker, you shovelled the fish and vegetables into your bowl and finished, a bit upset at yourself for forcing it down but still, it was more than rude not to. He was being so sweet.. well, was he? Maybe you wouldn't have to teeth the condom, but he did. He was just a sleazy nice.

"Put them in the sink, I'll wash them." Bingo! Hurriedly planting the emptied dishes in the sink, you watched him push up the sleeves of his sweats, looking away from his forearms. Was he crazy, showing those off? This must be him trying something. Refusing to watch the show, your gaze flitted around the small but well settled in home, as he asked you to wear a shirt and shorts in his room while he finishes up the dishes. He could only palm his mouth when you came out in his boxers and shirt, your clothes bundled up in your hands then pushed into your schoolbag. His hand had been wiped off with some towels, but his lips were definitely glistening.. along with his chin, after he took his hand off his face. Bingo. This man was a woman eater. In the meantime, you noticed his dad coming out of his room, wondering if you two actually managed to change at the same time, both of them wearing matching sweats was actually kind of cute. Actually, don't dads not bring clothes into the shower? You had a single mom, so you didn't know. Dad must've slipped out when you were out of the living room to not let you see him in just a towel. What a sight that must've definitely been, he was a well built.. "It's getting late. You two, head to bed." With a silent exit, he turned back to his room, gently closing the door and probably settling in to his bed. Zuma blinked for a moment and told you to shower first, but you declined, "..please go first." With a voice that small, he felt almost rude to press further.

When he was out, you stepped in to a hot and steamy bathroom! The walls dripped with condensation, there was a stool and everything you could've asked for except conditioner. Your diet was so bad that your hair was wholly dependent on the stuff, so you opted to just rinse your head with water and wash up with body wash, then..! The long awaited moment. The bath! The wooden cover was easily peeled, folded back as you stepped in gingerly, savoring the moment. They had it set at a higher temperature than you did at home. Often you were too lazy to prepare a bath yourself so you'd visit bathhouses instead, so this was like.. a premium luxury spa.

?! In a family.. don't you use the same water for everyone, and then drain?!

Looking at the water, gleaming back up at you. This is the same water that he?! Pulling back a bit, feeling utterly harassed and uncomfortable, you fought back by actually drinking the water. Yeah, serves you right. How's the taste of that?! I'm a huge pervert too! Ahh! This was your own bathwater, too.. did you wash your ass crack?! This was so scary! This house was so scary! What the fuck?! Getting the hell out of the tub, the hot water remained a second skin of warmth, as hot tears accompanied it, rolling down the awfully pained expression on your face from an unknown conflict unrelentingly felt at your gut. Shuffling your clothes onto drying damp skin, the door shut with a loud bang as Zuma looked at you conflicted. Why did you look like a mess straight out the bath? Isn't it the opposite way around? Peeking out his doorway, a bit worried about the noise waking his dad. Was there a cockroach..?

Pretending like you didn't do something wholly scummy, you smiled and shuffled over to him, quietly bowing in thanks for the bath. "We don't really have a spare futon, so I'll sleep in the living room." Huh? "You can use mine." What. That was impossible. A boy's room? His bed? His used bed.. the same one he grew up in and had wet dreams in and peed himself in when he was young. Having shut his bedroom door half in shock and half in refusal, you sat down, eyes to the floor. He spoke through the door at your obvious decline, "..I wont sleep well if I know I let a girl sleep on the cold hard floor as my guest."

As he pulled the door back open, he saw the lithe docile scene of his beloved guest on his floor in front of his bedroom door completely kneeling, hand under head on the cold hard floor. You wanted to rip his skull out. To think that you'd ever need to be in a man's room. "I don't wanna burden you any further so please let me sleep here."

He had no choice but to agree and mutter a short 'goodnight' after handing you an extra blanket and pillow.

------

What a shitty sleep. Waking up with his hand on his stomach, he sat up in his bed and blinked himself just-conscious. Talking about shitty, he needed to use the toilet. Sliding open his door, hand scratching his stomach under his sweats, he wondered what these aches were from. Was it stress? Did he sleep in a bad position, or actually too deeply? He felt so uncoordinated. Getting himself to the toilet, he got a chaste look at last night, where he was changing the bathwater for his guest. Where he felt almost bad for getting her home. She seemed so lost and uncomfortable. Taking a quick piss, he washed his hands numbly and closed the bathroom door behind him with a quick twist of the doorknob. Turning the light off, he noticed it illuminate her sleepless face, sitting up with her back on her backpack, gaze stuck at her knees as if it were the only thing in the world. "..can't sleep?" He mumbled, voice low and cautious to not wake his father. Hoarse from sleep, he picked up some of the blanket on the floor and pulled it over her, a bit confused. "Do you want to.. eat something..?"

About to ask her what she's doing, he noticed her hands crossed on her knees.. and her chewing on her arm. Her face was a bit hard to tell in the dark light, but it didn't seem as though she was looking at him anyway. Tearing her arm off of her mouth, he asked her what she was doing, and she responded slowly, "..I can't sleep without.." "Without?" ".......my plushy." So totally done with her, he sighed and rubbed some of the sleep out his eyes, wondering what he could even do for her. "Are you scared?" There was no response. "Wait a moment.."

Quietly pushing his dad's room's door open, he thought of how he had a daughter. Rummaging in his closet, he found a little teddybear. Taking his time to get back out, he gingerly shut the door, "I'll apologize for you, so.." "No, it has to be my one." He groaned, slipping back in his dad's room to put the toy back. Sitting next to her afterward, he looked.. disheveled. In the moonlight, the subtle white glow on his face made him look just that much paler. "I'll sit with you. Better to stay up together, right?"

Noticing out of the corner of his eye as her arm came into light the numerous bite marks that littered now red skin. What happened? What on earth was she doing? Doesn't that hurt? "You're like a dog.." He said, in his tired state, as she smiled in response. "Sorry if I'm not good at this.. I never.. get to stay up anymore.." As he yawned into his knees, she similarly did the same. Eyelids heavy, he pressed his head into the wall, "..you can go to sleep." And immediately blacked out the moment he heard the words.

---

Completely destabilising. Though his face was heavily blurred by shadow, sometimes he turns at a nice enough angle to reveal his face. Just when it feels easy enough to forget the situation you were in, his face comes back into view. It was driving you crazy. First, he probably felt the saliva on your arm when he fucking put you in check. Second, he didn't fucking wipe it on anything. Third, he wanted to keep you company. This was what a crazy person would do. Why does he always feel so welcome to do anything he wanted? You wish you had his confidence.

For a second imagining him falling asleep on your shoulder, you retreated into the soft blankets to hide your expression, from the very angelic sleeping beauty next to you. What a bother. It's like he'll die if he can't pry. Feeling his shirt, it was soft but in a breathable way. He was a sporty guy, so it made sense for his clothes to be loose and... you'll admit it, cold. The shirt was cold. Even with the blanket, it was fucking cold. Reaching for your jacket finally, he seemed to wake gently from your shuffling, so you started going at a snail's pace to let him keep. Sleeping. So he wouldn't talk to you anymore.

Looking him up and down, for a moment his trust was appreciated. His adams apple was so apparent.. his voice was gentle and soft. If someone were to see this scene right now, they might actually get the wrong idea. Feeling yourself drift off slightly, you saw his dad in the corner of your eye, and sat back up fully awake. "Hi." "Couldn't sleep?!" "Y-Yes." With a grumble, he head in the bathroom, coming back and scorning after he was finished, not believing someone was getting so close to his family. "I can't believe he sat so close." He stalked off to his room where he promptly collapsed in exhaustion, probably woken up by all the noise, and you shifted a bit farther from Zuma. What an overprotective dad. They were a nice family.

Rubbing over your arms, feeling the sting, you thought about how terrible it would be to bite him. His muscle would be a bad texture. He blinked in response, and you looked away, he woke up with his dad's voice?? Was the man that intimidating?! Giggling a bit, it was funny to see how normal he seemed when his dad was in the picture. Like.. one more thing in the food chain. He couldn't understand why you had stared, or that he fell asleep next to you. Starting conversation again, you silently cursed as he got all buddy buddy with you again.

"What-what time is it, anyway?" Looking around for the clock, it was two in the morning. He looked worried. Don't bite your arm, it's all red, but you couldn't care less. He got you some bread, but the plastic just crinkled in your hand. You didn't want to eat, not at all. "..your dad's mad at us." He had a feeling, he said. Palming his neck, he wondered aloud if he'd need to return to his room, and while you celebrated a silent victory, he changed his mind and kept sitting by you. Fighting every urge to take out your feelings on your arm, you moved awkwardly, staring all around the room then back at him. He kept getting confused today. *Your circulation must be good*, you wanted to say. *Since you exercise regularly.* but it sounded weird like a relative visiting. It's not like you've ever wanted to speak to him or people like him, but he seemed so tired. What an effort just to keep you company. What a waste of time.

Whatever, he'd forget about this anyway. "Why'd you invite me here?" "Oh.. I just wanted to. I'd regret it if I didn't." You couldn't even call him self centered. Reclining back into yourself, you blinked away something bubbling up in your throat, feeling bad for everything you've done and thought about him.

"..I drank your bathwater." "What?" He genuinely paled. "I don't think you should have me here."

His eyebrows twitched, a frown seeping into his face. "I didn't think.. that was what was happening." "Just don't do it again," Wanting to cry, you nodded solemnly, lips pressed tightly together. "Okay," Pulling at his borrowed boxers, you spaced out, feeling just a little bit more comfortable with him. "Your arms are really pretty." He thanked you, and in the quiet room, you prayed his dad didn't hear any of it. "Maybe.. I can look like you, in my next life."

Chewing on your arm out of habit, he tugged it out your mouth again. "Stop doing that." *What's wrong with you,* you wanted to say. What else could you do? It was the only way to calm down. Holding his arm in front of your face, he mouthed something? You couldn't hear. Blanking out at his defined and sculpted arm, like eye candy, you turned your head and pulled away, while he remained insistent in whatever he was doing. Closing your eyes, you could gather enough composure to fully pay attention to what he was saying. "..I'm serious."

What the fuck was he on?? About? Blinking at him, you motioned for his arm to move away, and he tentatively pulled it back, mouth agape when you mentioned how you blanked out and couldn't hear what he was saying. "I'm saying.. if you have to do it, do it on mine." Chewing on your lip, you couldn't even believe what you were hearing. Did he have a fetish? "Hey-- what're you doing?" "I thought you were a good guy.." "What?! No.. wait. I mean-" What a difficult man. Maybe he was thinking the same, about how difficult you were. "That's just what any friend would do.." Looking away, you mentioned about how it was just some old habit he should forget about. "Does it hurt, though?" "..I can take it." "Don't want you to. Friends rely on eachother."

Looking at his arm, you wondered if he wanted to get married. To put that thing in your mouth would be sex. Skin on skin, lips around him? Was that code for head? Did he want to do something with you? "I'll think about it." With a dumb sigh, he pressed his back against the wall, the familiar position bringing him back to his biking days. The only difference was that now he copied you, legs not spread and person relaxing on a wall.

----

He wondered if she'd do it if he did it on her. Chasing away the thought, he reminded himself that she was just a girl. Usually friends convince you to do something you don't want by letting you follow their lead, but in this case? She might think he's some pervert. In any case, nobody bites anyone. At all. Staring at a wet patch at her wrist, he felt negligent as a host, for some reason. He wouldn't let his guest suffer like this. Taking a few moments to steel himself from how ridiculous he'd sound, he asked if she'd give it a shot if he did it too, and she nodded thinking the sight of him biting his own arm would be funny, too. When his hand hesitantly wrapped around her abused wrist, it was without hesitation yanked out his grip, and he felt his face warm at her dumbfounded expression. Why did he feel like he just assaulted her or something? "Well, do it already!" He tried again and she pulled away, his brow bridge so sore just from today's work. Rubbing in between his eyebrows, he wanted to have more patience but it was like a magic show being with her. Sometimes he felt like he was being tricked.

"..why aren't you doing it?" He started to get fed up. "What're you doing?" "..it." "What on earth is the 'it' you're thinking of?" "..tell me!" "I thought you'd be less scared if we both ripped our fucking arms off with our teeth."

Groaning, he covered his face, wanting to muster courage but he just couldn't. Not in this situation. She looked on the brink of tears at how exasperated he was getting. How could he keep his composure? Why was he doing all this? Biting her fucking arm? Him? Will she break in half? What the fuck was he doing with his time? "I thought.. you'd.. you meant, on your arm." Never seeing him so ticked off before, she pulled back, sputtering for a while before apologising, and admitting that she wouldn't wanna do it, and thinks he wouldn't either. For a moment, he felt as if he was levitating. Was it the time? Was it because he was drowsy? Left foot over his right, he nodded, not sure what he wanted to do or say anymore.

Lifting her arm up, she looked at the numerous bite marks, and rubbed at them to fade the brands, trying to reassure him. "..I'll be more careful next time. If I do it, I'll just think of getting scolded again, so I'll probably stop doing it." "..don't do it in front of me." She mentioned it being a habit again before returning her arms to the inside of her sleeves, back to hugging her knees. Wanting to at least wipe the slick off first, things ended up with him just sighing and looking at her head, dully noting how on earth she planned to sleep with her hair tie still in.

Gesturing for her to take it off, she shook her head gingerly and he left the matter alone. Maybe it was none of his business.

---

Taking a deep breath as he seemed to give up easy this time, you pawed at your hair and gathered some of it in your hand, raking it through.

Basically the last thing keeping yourself together, you would rather die than take that thing out. You literally lapped at his bath water like some dumbass idiot. Now he's telling you to not bother with keeping up appearances? Forget it. It's all that you have! Your dignity resides in only this object alone, in this house. For a moment you wondered how easy it would be to just have a buzz like his, not needing to bother with the conditioner research and shame that comes with shitty hair. Suddenly pissed off, you bit at your thumb, though through your jacket, and promptly pulled it back with both the harsh feel of cotton on your tongue and his light scorn, putting your hands underneath you as a seat afterward. It was the first time anyone's paid this much attention.

"Do you like cooking?" "I've never tried." It was hard to be polite and friendly at the same time. He didn't even want to be here, he just had to. For his own sanity's sake. Walking over to the bathroom, the cold tiles were sleek and still a bit wet when you got in, door closing to you sitting again barefoot with your back on a wall, chewing at your palm. This was driving you nuts. You needed to go *home*. He was annoying. Not a friend, but the consequence of your actions. Moving out, you grabbed your things and thanked him for the stay, and said you needed to leave now. He said he'd walk you since it's dangerous this late out, but you were already putting on your bag at the door.

"..I'm sorry." Staring at him, you bit your lip, nodded, and clasped your neck with the wet spot on your palm. "I can't stay here forever. I don't wanna be here anymore." "We can get your toy, and come back." His voice was strong. It always had been, even when he was playing quiet for his dad. An air of strength and resilience, that maybe came from a deep respect. Completely swayed by his compassion, your thumbnail was unfortunately yet another chew toy as you put your things down, got the blanket, huddled up against a pillow and went to sleep. It was tiring to think about. But even more so was his incessant pestering. You couldn't deal with it right now. A friend was the last thing you wanted. But as dry, heavy eyes met their peace, a moment's of exhaustion overtook as you fell headfirst into the worst dream of your life. Ever. No competition. It was annoying, too. The type that you remember slowly after waking up and bit by bit that doesn't leave you. You woke up by his side, curled up by his foot while he slept with his back to the wall. Like a monk.. looking for the clock, you couldn't even find it in time, before his dad took over the space in the room, blaring down at you two after an intense mental battle you could literally see happening in his brain as he stood there unmoving in front of you. "Get up!" Both of you scrambling to your feet, you watched in silence as Zuma went through his daily motions, changing in his room and you following suit by getting in yours in the bathroom. Sitting together at the table as two idiots, the dark sky still remained behind his window, was he an early riser because his dad's a cop? After having breakfast together, with only you appreciating the much needed silence from being half awake, his dad left first to get to work while you two... wait for school? What, do you go back to sleep?! "I usually work out around this time, so.." A monk?! "..if you wanna finish up your food and go back to sleep, I'll just wake you when it's time to go." Immediately crawling back under the covers with an empty dish on the table, bundled up you rolled over to avoid his gaze while you slept.

Almost falling back into deep sleep, unsure for how long a while, you blinked yourself awake.

Wait, weren't you two home alone, and for two hours? Peeking into his room, to see him taking a short break, his hands on his knees with his eyes closed. So this is how he usually sat.. legs folded beneath him. They did seem like a traditional family, now that you thought about it. Tugging the door open, you slimed in, bowing your head in thanks. "I.. I'll make up for this, so don't worry." "Do whatever you want," "I.. umm.. I wish you hadn't found me. I wish.. you could've just looked away. I'm sorry for drinking your toilet water and making you stay up all night." "Even the toilet water..?" "N. No. I meant the bath." He looked unbothered, "I don't know.. enough. To make it up to you. What can I do..?" In a complete bow, knees folded under your stomach and head on your hands, you told him that you would be in debt to him and won't rest easy until you find a way to repay him. He muttered an 'it's fine' and 'I don't need a place to stay for a night,' and you could only shake when you realised you really couldn't repay him.

Hands shaky, you brought over yourself to him, his knees facing yours as you gestured for him to put a hand forward, and bit on his wrist as fast and as hard as you could, at least without breaking skin. He made a face at the pain, worse than a pinch by far, and wondered when you would be letting go. Tearing your teeth up his hand and off his arm, it left a red streak as you marvelled at the brand you just made on him. "I'll. I'll stop, doing it. It hurts, right?" Giggling at his nodding, you put down his hand, the burst of will probably going to make every next decision of your life hell when you realise what the fuck you did after the adrenaline rush goes away.

#unjizumaxreader #unji zuma x reader #zuma unji x reader #zumaunjixreader #dandadanxreader #dandadan x reader #fanfic #x reader #xreader

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what-have-i-unleashed · 8 months ago

Note

You hate me? You hate poor little Silly anon? You remove my rq from yyou inbox :( (very much /j of course) Lucky I have the tumblr outbox extension hehehehehehe (i mean i remembered anyways but still :3 ) This was what I sent: "If you're uhhh still taking the MTT flash-fic RQs. May I ask 14 + Cry (or tears)? No pressure of course :3"

i'm so sorry silly anon for deleting your asks waaaaaaaaaaa

please accept this as my apology..........

14. w.d.y.w.f.m? - the neighborhood

Maybe you're right, maybe this is all that I can be But what if it's you, and it wasn't me? What do you want from me? What do you want from me?

aaaaaand i'm gonna add another song, just because this delicious prompt reminds me of its existence too >:3

cry for me (english ver.) - twice

I want you to cry, cry for me The way I cried for you, baby, cry for me Make your rain fall, cry for me But again Somehow you keep me goin' round and round All the walls I built around me come crashin' down Makin' excuses, gotta drown 'em out I want you to, I want you to, I want you to die for me

PROMPT: CRY

⚠️ so just a warning: this thing is heavy, okay? like, i think even heavier than the horrordust one i did before, so mind the tags here ⚠️

(cw: toxic relationship, implied self-harm, verbal abuse, probably ooc - they're all assholes in here)

the door slams open, the sound reverberating through the apartment like a gunshot. murder stumbles in, face flushed purple, a stagger in his walk. he smells of booze and fire. his jacket is torn, some parts charred. and yet, there’s a manic look on his face when he stares into the eyes of horror and killer, who are rushing to the hallway to see what the commotion is about.

“what the-” horror says, his voice sharp, his eyes narrowed. “murder, what the hell did you do now?”

murder lets out a sharp, humorless laugh, throwing his jacket on the floor with more force than necessary. “what the hell did i do?” he echoes, his tone wild and shaky. “i survived, horror. barely. isn’t that what you wanted?” his gaze darts from horror to killer, who leans against the wall all nonchalant. “for me to barely keep living while you both stand there and watch the show?”

killer looks murder up and down, his mouth curved downwards. “you’re drunk,” he says flatly. “and stupid, apparently.”

“yeah? and you’re an unfeeling statue,” murder snaps, his voice rising as he points a finger at killer. “you always sit there on the sidelines, watching, like none of this matters. like i don’t matter.”

horror steps forward, placing himself between them. turning to murder, he says, “ok, you need to calm down. you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“oh, i already tried that.” murder’s words come out bitterly, his lips curling into a manic grin. “almost drove myself off the cliff. you should’ve seen it – it was spectacular.”

horror scowls. “that’s not funny, murder.”

“what? so making jokes about killing others is fine, but you draw the line at my attempt to off myself?” murder spits, his bi-colored eyes blazing and wild. “maybe i should do this more if this is the only way to make you care!”

“we do care!” horror says quickly, the words coming too fast. “i care, okay? you don’t have to throw that in my face every time something goes wrong.”

murder laughs, a sharp and broken sound. “that’s rich coming from you. you’re so good at tearing me apart with your words, but the second i need you to actually be there, you disappear.”

“what?” horror clenches his fists, his soft tone swiftly gone. “why do think that’s the case, huh? i can barely breathe around you without you demanding more, like i’m some kind of bottomless pit.”

“because you never give me anything!” murder screams, leaning into horror’s space, his chest heaving. his eyes brim with tears of frustration. “i am drowning, horror! i am bleeding out for you, and all you give me is venom instead of a cure! what the hell do you even want from me?!”

“i want you to stop acting like you’re the only hurt one here!” horror’s voice booms in the cramp space. for a moment, the apartment feels like it might collapse under the weight of their shouting. “you think it’s easy for me?! to care about someone like you?! someone who’s all or nothing, who’s willing to break your own arm just to make a point?!”

“i wouldn’t have to hurt myself if you’d meet me halfway!” murder shouts back, his voice cracking. “i’d die for you, sans. for both of you. and all i get is this- this emptiness!”

horror flinches, his jaw tightening as his glare softens for just a moment. he looks away from murder’s fiery gaze. “i’ve never asked you to kill yourself for us. but,” he squints at murder’s slightly smaller form, “you don’t know how to do anything else, do you?”

killer sighs, finally stepping forward. “maybe if you both stopped shouting long enough to say what you need, this wouldn’t be a disaster.”

murder whirls on him in an instant, laughing bitterly. “oh, great. killer, the voice of reason. except, you never do a damn thing to help!”

“i’m not the one constantly crashing out and sleeping around just because i can’t handle my emotions,” killer replies coolly, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“angel, you’re both impossible!” murder screams, his hands holding his skull as if he wants to break it apart. “do you even want this?! do you even care – either of you?!”

horror hesitates, his mouth opening and closing like he wants to say something but unable to. killer, as always, is the first to answer.

“i care enough to stay,” killer says, his tone even and detached. “that’s more than you give me credit for.”

“that’s not enough!” murder screams, tears spilled over. he shrinks into himself, his body trembling with the force of his sobs. “i can’t be the only one who feels this! i can’t be the only one who cries, who loves, who bleeds in this forsaken relationship!”

horror steps forward hesitantly, his hand twitching but not daring to touch the vibrating ball that is murder. “sans…” he starts, his voice softening. “i… i don’t know how to fix this.”

“then why are we even doing this?” murder whispers, his voice full of anguish and desperation. he looks up at both of them with his tear-streaked face. “why do i even love you when it’s killing me?”

neither of them answers. the silence blankets all of them, heavy and suffocating.

after a while, murder wipes at his face, breaking the fragile quiet. “it doesn’t matter, does it…? this is all i deserve. all i’ll ever have, like you said.” he laughs, a manic sound. “stars, i just wish…” he hiccups, as another sob threatens to tear through his vocal cords again. “i just wish you’d cry for me. just once. just like i do for you.”

horror looks away, gritting his teeth, while killer stares down at murder, face unreadable. and murder realizes, with a sinking feeling in his nonexistent stomach, that they never will.

#cw toxic relationship #cw self destruction #cw verbal abuse #ending this with a bang huh #please take care of yourselves people #this one is heavy i gotta tell you #dust sans #murder sans #horror sans #killer sans #murder time trio #mtt poly #undertale au #utmv #sanshipping #sanscest

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yvenno · 1 month ago

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✧˖° if you lie down, lie next to me

There is some hotel party at the hotel Corto is staying at and you're here and you get too tipsy to go back to your place

posting this on here too because i have free will. very short, might be ooc, really vague setting. completely self-indulgent because I doubt anybody will read this anyways. english isn't my first language. ao3

Day went by too fast. You had met with Corto earlier today, but quickly parted ways, not out of disinterest, just different plans. You wanted to wander the unfamiliar city, see what it had to offer, while he had his own business to take care of. But after hours of fanning around, strolling, visiting, learning about the place, you came back to the hotel you knew Corto stayed at. You’d told each other that you might get a drink together on the patio.

But of course, Corto had gotten himself caught up in something. You were learning, in the short time you'd known him, that this was a habit of his. Still, tonight’s situation was a bit unexpected. The man Corto had to meet, something business related over the Mediterranean sea, had turned the hotel into his own private celebration.

The hotel’s restaurant-bar buzzes with music, chatter, and laughter, full of lively people, including the man. It’s obvious the place has been rearranged, tables put together for apéritifs and glasses of champagne and more room to move. Someone has reserved the place for their own purposes.

You find Corto there too, sitting at a table nearer the walls, with his own glass, looking almost amused. His eyes lit up a little more when they land on you, though.

“Barros, the businessman I was supposed to see, didn’t show up at the harbour this afternoon,” Corto says, false exasperation in his voice, “So I came back to the hotel to wait for you. And here he is.” He points to a man in a cream suit, standing near the bar, laughing wholeheartedly (and maybe drunk) to something one of the few lovely women surrounding him has whispered in his ear. “Hosting some informal soirée right where I’m staying.”

Your eyes linger on the man, then some more around the place. It is very informal, but a somehow elegant kind of party. There’s a band playing upbeat jazz music in the corner, and too many people for the small hotel patio, but you can tell from the way everybody is dressed that they’re just adults with too much money and time having fun.

“Did you even get to talk to him?” You ask, chuckling.

“He recognized me when I arrived. Thought I was coming to the party. Turned out he had completely forgotten our meeting. He apologized and asked me to meet again tomorrow, which I guess will do.” Corto sighs.

You huff, then raise from the seat you’d taken next to Corto. “Well, we were going to get drinks anyways. Let me get myself one, and I’ll be right back.”

You unfortunately miss Corto’s gaze lingering on you when you make your way to the bar.

You exchange a few words with the bartender, who seems a little nervous, probably unsettled by the unusual crowd. You make him laugh, try to ease him a bit.

After you’ve managed to grab your glass, you walk back to Corto’s table, but are stopped right before you sit down.

“Excuse me, miss,”

You turn around momentarily and are faced with another well-off man, younger looking than the host but not by much. He is about to say something until he notices Corto already sitting at the table, and then his gaze fleets between you two as surprise appears on his face.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I hadn’t noticed you were accompanied,” he smiles politely.

“Hm?” you respond half heartedly, sipping on your drink.

“Oh, I was going to offer you to have some of our sangria - and your friend, too,” he adds.

“I already have a drink,” Corto says behind you.

You want to say the same, as you do too, but you are feeling adventurous. It’s already late and you don’t know the city well, it only feels natural to accept a local drink by a stranger. Plus, you aren’t alone.

“Sure,” you say, “I’ll finish this one later.” You spin around and set your half-empty glass onto the table. Corto is looking at you, eyebrows raised. You smile at him sweetly, “I’m just having fun. Getting to know the locals and all that,” you tell him quietly.

Corto chuckles, “as long as you don’t sign anything. I have a feeling I won’t be alone for long either.” He glances at some guys that are already eyeing him from the corner of his eye. He has been around the Mediterranée, he wouldn’t be surprised if someone here knew him.

“Mister popular,” you tease, knowing his reputation, then leave with the other man.

The next hour goes by fast, and so do the drinks, but you don’t notice. You’ve ended up speaking with more people than you would have usually. Men naturally come to you, but you have conversations with the women, too. Most of them are from a higher-class but you don’t really mind. You’re funny and interesting enough that they don’t point out the old sundress you are wearing or your lack of expensive jewelry.

After some time, tiredness catches up to you. You stray to a quieter part of the patio for some alone time. You lean against the silver railing and think, oh, a cigarette would be nice.

“Having fun?”

You turn around and see Corto, hands in his pockets, still dressed in his white shirt, white pants. He stands out in the dark, you think. His golden eyes seem to be shining too.

“Corto, mon sauveur,” you say affectionately, “tu as une cigarette?”

He blinks, half-surprised by the use of your native language, then takes out his pack of Gitanes. “Already speaking in tongues?”

You laugh as he hands you a cigarette. You bring it to your mouth and he lights it up for you naturally before lighting one of his own.

“You seem to get along well with everyone here. And you were the one calling me mister popular earlier,” he says before taking a drag.

“Hm. I get along with their casual partying, mostly. They were nice enough to me that I lost track of time,” you frown, look up at the dark sky, “what time is it?”

Corto shrugs, glances back at the restaurant. The party seems to be slowing down just the slightest. He takes a look around at the darkness of the night too. “Late, probably.”

You groan, bring a hand up to rub at your eyes. They fall close and you feel like you’re floating on your feet for a few seconds, drifting off. You hear the wind blowing in the trees near by more clearly than the music and chatting just a few feet away. “I should probably leave soon.”

Corto frowns, “where are you staying tonight?”

“Another place close to the shore. On the southside.”

Corto sees how you’re falling asleep standing up. He’s been busy while you were off socializing, some ex-naval officer and his friends came up to him after they heard his name coming up in a conversation with the host. They weren’t unpleasant, but, because of that, he hadn’t been able to keep track of the drinks you had like he was planning to. And he hasn’t seen you eat anything either. “That’ll be at least a half hour away.”

“Hm.”

He sighs. “Might as well stay here then.”

Your tired eyes blink open, “What?”

“I’m not mad enough to let you leave in this state in a city you don’t know. You can stay here. I doubt they’ll have any rooms still available after those guys” he nods towards the rich party goers, “have taken the few ones left, but mine can be big enough for two.”

Your mind is cloudy but you feel warm, not only because it is Corto, but also because it is a very kind gesture. You have the idea to politely turn him down, but you are genuinely spent and tipsy. And while you haven’t known Corto for very long, you realize you’ve always felt safe by his side. “Okay.”

Corto smiles, takes a last drag of his cigarette before crushing it onto the railing. You follow his gesture and do the same, more slowly, as simple actions now ask more of you. He takes notes of it. Gently walks you back inside with a hand on your back, between your shoulder blades.

The music sounds louder as you pass back inside the lobby. You don’t register everything, but you know he’s now walking you up the stairs. Eventually you are leaning against a wall the hallway while he looks for the key to his room in his pockets.

You are half there when he takes you inside and lets you (makes you) lie onto a bed. You hear your conscience in the back of your mind screaming that you are letting yourself be welcome in a man’s bedroom while intoxicated.

You catch the warm, quiet scent of him in the pillow.

“Am I in your bed?” you utter, already falling asleep.

Corto doesn’t answer. He is busy taking out another blanket out of the dresser, planning to sleep onto the carpet.

“I can sleep on the floor. I can literally sleep anywhere right now,” you say, eyes still shut, voice slurring with tiredness.

Corto snorts, “I don’t doubt that.”

Barely awake, you extend one of your feet to him, “come sleep on the bed at least. i don’t mind.”

Corto doesn’t move, watches you retreat your foot, cozy yourself further into his bed, careful to stay on one side. “First drinks from strangers, now inviting men to bed. Should I be concerned?” He says, not too seriously.

“Just, just don’t do anything weird or whatever. Sleeping.” You tell him quietly, mouth half squished into the sheets.

Corto feels obliged. He drags himself at the foot of his bed, slides in between you and the wall. He fits, not like a stranger would, but not quite like a lover either. You don’t seem to mind though. You’re fast asleep, laying on your front with your face turned away from him, one of your legs falling off the edge of the bed, as if to leave him more space unconsciously. He has half a thought of gently grabbing it and setting it back on the bed, but that’d be too close of a gesture for you two, maybe. He manages to settle on his side, facing your back. He doesn’t touch you and leaves you space. Falls asleep like this.

#yes i'm posting my self ship one shots on here too what now #corto maltese #corto maltese x reader #valsfics #fanfic

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ve1vet-cake · 2 years ago

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Teo drabble

(this was almost called 'Oh naur'. My brain doesn't function)

14days with you is still an 18+ game and explicit stuff will be mentioned

MINORS DNI

Enjoy fellas

Probably very ooc Teo cuz am stupid weeeeee

------------------------------------------------

You woke up after a night with with Teo, like many nights before. Somehow you had gotten close enough to Teo for him to genuinely want to keep you around. You had met some of his other friends and even were one of his more regular 'dates' whenever you went out to party.

It was rare to make it simple. His friends were always eyeing you. You aware of he fact they were making bets on how long it would take Teo to discard you as well. Just last week he had apparently dropped someone for making him breakfast.

You had shrugged it off, though you were starting to like certain aspects of Teo and how surprisingly gentle he could be you were accutely aware of his boundaries. No love, or else you're out.

And you didn't want to lose such a good sex partner. You needed someone with experience after years of not having proper sexual partners.

Now here you were, sitting up in Teo's bed, stretching gently while figuring out how you'd get home this time. It was already 7am after all and you knew that Teo had a habit of waking up around 8 or 9 to get started with workouts and his skincare.

Cursing under your breath you peeled yourself out of his blanket, making sure he was still fairly covered before plucking your clothes off of his floor. With a yawn you made your way to his bathroom, grabbing your bag from his couch.

While you washed up and got ready for the day you tried getting rid of the soreness in your core and legs. He had been rougher than usual last night- not that you minded.

With a slight huff you smacked your cheeks to wake up a little more and got changed, putting on the spare clothes you'd prepared already.

With a last check in the mirror you smiled at yourelf before walking out of his room, quietly shutting the door behind you.

"I could walk to the nearest convenience store..." You were grumbling to yourself, deciding against going straight home and getting something to eat and drink first.

Lost in thought you didn't notice the woman before you, nearly bumping into her.

"A-ah! Sorry-"

You blinked, briefly apologizing. She must be one of Teo's staff.

You bit your lip, cursing yourself mentally for taking too long. If Teo were to come down now you'd be off the list.

"I was just about to leave. Don't mind me" You smiled gently at her, bowing your head before continung your way toward the front door.

Her kind eyes followed your figure a second, tilting her head in confusion before focusing the stairs.

"Won't they join us for breakfast?"

You froze, hand already on the doorknob. 'Fuck'

"Why should they?" Teo's raspy morning voice seemed to echo through the foyer. You suddenly felt trapped, afraid.

You heard him make his way to you or more the woman behind you.

"I mean we already started with breakfast and it's been so long since you had someone else to eat with." The woman pouted a little, worry glistening in her eyes.

"It's fine. They won't be coming back either way."

You felt your heart drop. Biting your lip hard you turned the doorknob and tried opening the door before hearing a smack sound behind you.

"TEODORE!"

As you looked behind you with widened eyes you saw the woman stand in front of a now defeated looking Teo. She had her arms crossed.

"You can't just treat every guest like that! I raised you better than his. Also; Aren't they the person you told me about??"

Teo's eyes seemed to widen as he shot her a clear 'Do not' glare.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"C-can I just.. go now?"

You stood there like a deer in headlights, unsure on what to do.

"No, come eat with us." The woman grabbed you by the arm, dragging you to the kitchen. "I like you, Teo has said that you're the first one to have held out for so long and to have respected him that much. You surely just overslept today, hm?"

"Y-yeah.. But.. He doesn't seem to want me here I can just g-"

The woman pouted at you.

Suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder.

"You're lucky she likes you. after breakfast you're out. Understood?"

You just nodded, trying not to show your hurt. You had just lost something you held dearer than you thought.

After the in your opinion awkward breakfast you practically dashed out the door, immdiately calling a cab home.

"Are you really going to cut them off? They're so sweet and I like them.." Teo looked up from his phone, finger hovering over the delete number button.

#14 days with you #14dwy #14dwy teo #14dwydrabble

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oldyoungneil · 2 years ago

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Wrote something for Stephan and Wallace :] apologies if it's OOC it's very late at night and I'm new to the fandom (also I have yet to read the comics)

Description: Stephan gets a little wasted at a (lame) house party. Wallace is there to "help".

No NSFW. There's kissing but it's not super detailed. Also drugs and alcohol but fair warning I've never tried either so I've got no frame of reference.

Stephan Stills was fine. He was totally fine. At least that's what he told himself as he stood outside the door to Scott's apartment. He was going to go to this stupid birthday party and then go home and it was not gonna suck and he was going to have a good time.

Stephan raised his hand to knock, but the door flew open before he made contact, causing his knuckles to make land with force on the forehead of Scott's roommate Wallace.

"C'mon dude, not the face! That's the money maker, the man magnet-" Wallace was cut off before he could finish his long winded complaint. "Sorry! Sorry, I'm here for the party... Scott's birthday thing?" Stephen asked, trying to disguise the stress in his voice."Yeah, I know what your here for, come inside before you freeze to death." Wallace pulled Stephen into the house by his shirt collar, closing the door behind him.

"Theres drinks on the kitchen counter, and some edibles if that's more your speed. You should get, like, thirty. You look like you're about to explode or something and I am NOT cleaning your bits off my ceiling" Wallace teased and squeezed Stephen's shoulder before walking away to bother Scott.

Stephen decided to pass on the weed (at least for now; weed made him stupid) and found his way toward the closest beer. Looking around the small house, it didn't seem quite like a party to Stephan. He supposed that checked out, though, considering Scott had about six friends (one of which being a high school girl). He wasn't complaining though. He wasn't in the mood for a crowd anyway.

The mood got a bit livelier as the group got drunker, and eventually someone turned on some music. At some point, Stephen danced with Kim and then with Scott. After a bit of jumping around, Stephen's stomach decided that the brownies by the counter looked pretty tasty. His brain thought that one would be plenty, but his stomach thought five would be good. He listened to his stomach.

Another (very hazy) hour or so went by before everyone started to leave. Scott went home with Ramoma, and the rest of the party followed, eventually leaving Stephan alone with Wallace.

"Im.. uh... party's over... pretty tired... home" Stephan mumbled out. Wallace groaned. "Dude, how many of those brownies did you eat?" Stephan thought for a moment. "Umm. I dunno. Like... five? Sorry man... I'll pay you back or whatever... or bake you some more or something... didn't mean to eat all your food." "No, dumbass, you don't need to pay me back. I just... dude! I told you those were edibles! I can't measure shit! God knows how much weed was in those! Look, dude, you're not walking home! Just... I dunno, Scott's gone off somewhere, just take his spot and stay the night." Stephan shrugged his shoulders and took off his shoes before flopping onto the mattress on the floor.

Wallace threw some old basketball shorts and an undershirt at Stephen. "Here. Those are Scott's. Probably better than sleeping in jeans" Stephen stood up from the bed and began to unbutton his shirt. Wallace considered telling him to change in the bathroom, but, hell, who was he to turn down a show. Stephen continued working on his shirt untill his unfocused fingers stumbled upon a particularly tricky button that they couldn't quite make work of. "Seriously man" Wallace rolled his eyes "I thought guitarist were supposed to be good with their fingers. Here, lemme just..." Wallace stepped closer to Stephen, unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way. "There ya go"

It could've just been his imagination, but Wallace swore Stephan turned about seventy different shades of red. "Uhh... thanks" Stephen mumbled as he unzipped his jeans and attempted to step out of then without falling on his ass(which, in his current state, required some concentration).

"So", Wallace moved closer to Stephen. "Weed makes you stupid. Stupid people talk alot. Tell me a secret" Stephen shrugged. "I think I'm gay... or something... hey, arnt you gay...?"

Stephen looked around for the spare clothes that Wallace had brought, but couldn't find them. "Wheres-" Wallace, who had already made his way under the covers, cut him off before he could finish. "Don't worry about it. Just get in." Wallace patted the space beside him in the bed. Stephan, who had no better ideas, did as he was told.

Wallace laughed. "Yeah, dude, it's obvious! Both of those things are obvious!"

Stephan furrowed his eyebrows like he was deep in thought. Wallace was right, weed did make him stupid. Stephen squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his lips against the other man's. Or at least, he meant to. He overshot his target a bit and ended up with a little bit of top lip and a whole lot of nose. Wallace laughed before he kissed Stephen, running his hands through Stephen's hair. Stephen reciprocated fervently, moving closer to Wallace.

Stephen nodded again, but his eyes stayed on Wallace. Wallace thought it was kinda creepy. He grabbed Stephen by the shoulders and turned him away, little spoon style, before putting an arm around his shoulders. "Go to sleep, man" Wallace whispered, but Stephen was already out.

The two continued like this for a number of minutes, untill Wallace pulled away. "Look, man, im not gonna sleep with you." Stephen looked confused. "I mean, you can stay on the mattress and you can kiss me all you want, but that's it. You're waaaay too wasted for any fun stuff. Look, i may be a slut, but I have standards." Stephen nodded understandingly. "Hey, if you're still up for it, we can talk in the morning, but I've been up all day and im exhausted, so just go to sleep, ok?"

#fanfic #wallace wells/stephan stills #stephan stills #scott pilgram takes off #scott pilgram vs the world #scott pilgrim #wallace wells #scott pilgrim fanfic #no beta we die like men

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skylarsblue · 3 years ago

Note

this isn’t really a request or anythin’, just a thought. 141 havin to deal with a southern team member who only gets progressively more accented the more they get mad.

100% projecting here

pretty unaccented, American, whatever —> ✨ anger ✨ —> Memphis called they want their “oo-ol” back (translation: oil).

i have no idea if they’d be annoyed, charmed, or just confused.

✦141 + Los Vaqueros With A Southern!Teammate✦

(My first C.o.D request and it's for pEOPLE LIKE MEEEE, southern traassh! This my shit. Fair warning, I've never played one of these games cause I don't have a console, so if they're ooc, please tell me how I can improve writing them!)

✦Random headcanons, Southern slang, GN!Reader, Race neutral as well but American, implied to be Oklahoma/Texas style southern, aggressive cursing because I have the mouth of a sailor, a bit of Google Translated Spanish(forgive me), Rudy doesn't have a color cause I ran out I'm so sorry precious boy✦

✧Simon Riley✧

He's not real fond of Americans, admittedly. He's got a little voice in the back of his head that automatically associates Americans with betrayal, but he'll keep quiet.

He cringes at your accent at first. He's not fond of Americans, even less so of most American accents. It's a very thick drawl and after being in the team for a while, he'll tease you about it, telling you to "Speak English" like he does with Soap.

He shuts up when you bring up his Manchester accent being illegible sometimes. It's all in good fun though!

After proving you're trustworthy, he'll basically call you his "special American", to show you're an exception. He will never stop poking fun at you though, just as you do to him. Particularly when you say something intensely American.

"Look at her ass, out here pitchin' a bitch fit with a tail on it." "...What in the hell is that even supposed to mean?"

He'll give you one thing, you treat beef well, which he appreciates. Given he used to be a butcher's apprentice. Americans from the southern states know how to make a hamburger and we know how to cook a steak, that's like...the one thing we can brag about.

If you're like me and you dunk on your own country, he thinks those moments are really funny. Especially when you sound so American.

He probably enjoys you being angry the most. He loves it so much, he thinks it's extremely entertaining. Especially if you're a more small, non-intimidating person on the surface.

"Fuck off! Out here makin' a damn mess of the place, runnin' around like a chicken with its head cut off, wrecking my shit! I outta whoop yer ass!" "Should we step in?" "No no, let it go on a little longer..."

Probably tries to make your call sign something heavily American stereotypical, in a funny way. (ie. Bald Eagle, Stars(JILL!), Shotgun, etc.)

A bit hypocritical but if you have a farm with cows on it, he doesn't really wanna see them. His first thought his how to butcher them from years of training, and if they're not butcher cows, he feels kinda bad for thinking it.

Congrats! You're the only American Simon likes, aside from maybe Alex but I don't know for sure.

✧Johnny MacTavish✧

Laughs when you first speak. He apologizes but like, he laughs at you, I'm sorry.

Definitely asks if you have a cowboy hat, and he will lose his fucking mind if you do. The more cowboy shit you own the more he's entertained, especially if you wear them around base/on field.

He understands you super well but no one understands how or why. Johnny explains that it's just because he's good with accents. He'll hear weird euphemisms and, though it may take a second, 9 times out of 10 he'll get it.

"Fucker's so cheap I bet he pinches quarters til they scream." "What?! What does that mean!?" "Means he's a penny pincher! He's cheap. C'mon, that one was obvious, keep up, yeah?"

If you're a woman/female leaning, he'll call you cowgirl. If you're male/male leaning, you get the nickname cowboy. Non-binary/Genderfluid/Etc.? He calls you partner, and he'll always say it with a shitty imitation of your accent.

Asks you a buncha questions about American-Southern stereotypes to see if they're true. If they are, he gets really giggly about it.

If they ever have a mission in America, he'll insist you lead them everywhere. He likes seeing how you interact with people, especially if you're in a big city where some nutsos are. This man would have a blast watching you in a Waffle House. It's the only time he likes seeing you yell in public, thinks it's hilarious.

If you have any farm experience he's gotta see it. He needs to. I don't care if the farm is your great grandpa's and you haven't been there in a decade, you better take him to see the cows and tractors right now, immediately. Especially if there are chickens. He loves chickens.

He makes fun of your accent but he thinks it's really hot sometimes and he's very annoyed at himself for it. Particularly when you speak softly, trying to console/comfort him, slipping in a typical southern pet name.

"You alright there, sugar? Took quite a hit there. You need anythin', sweetheart?" "...I uh, uhm, ahem. N-no, no I'm alright." "Are ya sure, sweetpea? Your face is goin' redder than a tomato."" NO, I'M GOOD."

Manages to get the entire team to call you a southern callsign, whether you like it or not. He'll force it to stick. Most are animal-based too. (Cowboy/Cowgirl, Chick/Rooster, Bull/Heffer, Big Tex, etc.)

Your accent grows on him significantly. While he thinks you're very sexy when you're angry, he's really affected when you're soft and sweet. (bonus note; if you're faux sweet when you're mad? The whole "Oh...bless your heart" type thing? He's prolly gonna pop a boner, not gonna lie.)

✧John Price✧

He's not American but there are a lot of American things he likes, admittedly. Specifically, old western stuff, horses, ranches, etc. That whole aesthetic is something he's always enjoyed. He won't say it, but he has a particular fondness for your accent when he first hears it.

Doesn't understand you when your accent gets super thick but he thinks it's entertaining nevertheless. Unlike Ghost or Soap, he doesn't comment on it, because he doesn't think he has room to talk. Maybe he'd do it once and then you'd throw it back at him and he'd realize that...yeah he has no room to talk.

He's a calm individual but he will yell when necessary. But, what he finds admirable is when you jump in and yell for him. Like you can read his mind and he can save his throat, watching the people who were pissing him off jump back at thick southern curses being yelled at them.

"I outta jerk a damn knot in your fuckin' tail, ya fuckin' dumbass! Didn't ya momma ever teach you respect?! You ain't ever gonna talk to my damn captain like that again or I'll skin yer fuckin' hide!" "Ahem, thank you, sergeant, that's enough."

Buys you a cowboy hat if you don't already have one, for sure. Whether you take it as a genuine gift or you take it as a light jab at your roots, he'll get a lil' dopey smile if you decide to wear it. Gaz definitely makes fun of you two. Soap points out that Gaz also wears a hat religiously and he & Ghost start callin' you the hat trio.

Man melts at southern-drawl-spoken pet names. He truly does. Much like Soap, there's something about it that makes the tension leaves his body, though he's not really sure why.

"You alright there, Cap? You're lookin' bout ready to drop..." "I'm alright soldier, just need to finish this." "Captain, it'll be there in the mornin'. How bout a nap instead, huh? You can't go workin' yourself to the bone, hun. It ain't healthy."" ...oh alright, just for a bit though." "Sure, sugarcube, just long enough to have some tea."

He'll probably pick up on a few pet names and call you them. Whether you wanna take it as platonic or not, it's really just a sweet gesture that he wants to return. Pet names are kinda just...a staple of southern slang. It's part of the accent that he really enjoys, therefore he wants to return it.

If he ends up helping you with a call sign, it's going to be a really sweet & nice one. Or perhaps something that's from an old western he's seen. Probably based on something you've said before. (Sugarcube, Lasso, Hun/Hunny.) Bonus points if you get a super sweet name that doesn't match your stature, he thinks it's funny if it throws people off.

Piggybacking off the last one, I think it'd be real funny if your call name was "Sugarcube" and you're like...a 6'0"+ buff dude with a deep voice. That shit would be funny. Anyway!

If you own/live on a ranch or farm in your off time, he'll feel honored if you invite him to see it. Don't worry, he won't laze around and just appreciate the cute animals. (Looking at you Soap) He's got a little bit of experience with cows & horses, so he'll do his best to help you move the hay and such. Don't let him drive a tractor though, it's one of the few things he just can't do.

John doesn't play favorites, he's fair and precise to his entire team. But...off the field? ...you might get a little favoritism, he's got a weakness for bein' sweettalked through southern drawl. Don't let that go to your head though!

✧Kyle Garrick✧

Kyle doesn't care too much, he thinks every country has shitty stuff and cool stuff. He's a pretty big believer in silver linings. While America is far from his favorite country, and he knows the common trope of uh...less than tolerant people from the south, that doesn't affect how he sees you at all.

He does snicker at your accent sometimes, but only when you say something really aggressively southern. Especially making up random southern phrases that he doesn't understand at all. He finds it endearing.

"We just gotta haul ass and go tear shit up, run through like a buncha Tasmanian devils, right?" "...I understood...some of those words. Uh, sure, right." "We need to move our asses and fuck shit up." "Ah, okay. Could've just said that, but alright."

Thinks you're kinda scary when you're mad. He'll be the type to try and calm you down, but he understands if it's someone who deserves it. Not that he doesn't find your drawl fun to listen too, especially if someone was being an ass, but he doesn't like seeing you upset.

If the person you're yelling at was being a real big ass, he'll let you yell for a little, but step in. However, if you're doing condescending rage? Oh, go for it, do it all you want. He thinks it's hilarious.

Finds it particularly sweet if you're angry on the teams/his behalf. He can fight his own battles but he thinks it's a big sign of trust, friendship, etc. that you feel the need to defend him.

"Bless your heart, your brain ain't firing off on all cylinders is it, hun? Tsk, that's a shame..." "Excuse me?!" "You're excused, sweetpea. You're not gonna talk to my team that way, but you can turn your happy ass around and walk away. I ain't gonna have you disrespectin' the people who've been fightin' the good fight. Have a lovely day!" "How can you sound so sweet and yet so angry at the same time?" "Southern livin', sugar. Southern livin'."

Gaz is a bit of a foodie type, he likes trying cooking from any area he can go to. Southern cooking would...it'd be a new weakness for sure. A lot of it is unhealthy, yes, but he doesn't give a shit. It tastes good. Sometimes he thinks American food is an absolute sin and a disgrace, and he'll state it as such. Usually, it's stuff you agree on. Like bacon-covered donuts or fried butter. That shit's egregious. But things like southern-style chicken or rib-eye on a grill? You're gonna make him swoon with them roasted vegetables. Cooking for him is a surefire way to make you an unapologetic favorite in his book.

He won't say anything at the little jokes that people jab at you for your accent, but he will tell someone off if they say something that's clearly not funny and upsets you. Like trying to imply you're stupid because you come from Texas. (Speaking from personal experience) He thinks it's such a dumb thing to give someone shit over and he won't hesitate to say they're an idiot for trying to use it against you.

Hates sweet tea, I'm sorry. It's just tea but he can't stand it. He'll drink the unsweetened tea you make, but he'll make a dramatic face if he mixes them up. Something that you always laugh at.

He's great at driving basically any vehicle. Helicopters to mini coopers. He's never controlled a tractor before, but if you sit him in one and tell him the levers, it'll take him like...three minutes to get it down perfectly. Definitely gets a smug ass grin if you show you're amazed.

If he helps get you your call sign, he won't necessarily make it based on where you're from, it'll probably be based on a nickname, skill, or crucial event in your career. (Crash; you were thrown through a window, Hotshot; skill for sniping, etc.) But if he were to have one based on your southern ways? Sweet Tea, both for the fact you make it and the pet name you sometimes call him. (sweet pea)

✧Alejandro Vargas✧

Like Ghost, he's not super fond of Americans. His experience with most Americans are annoying tourists and Graves, leaves a pretty bad impression. He comes across unintentionally snappy when he first meets you, but Rudy will point it out, and he'll correct himself.

You aren't the annoying people he's dealt with and he knows it's not fair to say you are. Definitely talks shit on America though, and he'll honestly give you respect if you do the same. Since he's used to the kind of Americans that think being American give them a right to treat others like shit. He hates entitlement.

If you speak Spanish, he's gonna try really hard to not laugh at how your accent affects some words, but it's really hard. He means it in kind and if you're still learning when you meet him, he's proud when he hears you doing well in comprehension and sentences. Still, sounds just a lil silly.

He loves when your accent gets thick from rage, but he his favorite thing is if you speak Spanish in a rage, with your accent on top of it. It's a combination that fills his brain with serotonin.

"Eres un maldito idiota. ¡Tan útil como las tetas de un toro!" "Wha- Haha! What does that mean?!" "Did they say some super weird analogy?" "Si! They did!" "Yeaaah, they do that a lot."

He's notorious for having a naturally flirty personality, it's just how he's always been. Hence why not much phases him, but he does get a quite wide & genuine grin if you flirt back, making your accent extra intense. Especially with the pet names, another man who likes sweet words.

Thinks you having a southern call sign is really cute, especially if it's something your team calls you exclusively. He thinks it shows your endearment to your team. However, if your call sign is something you insist is only for friends, he'll get super giddy about being allowed to call you it.

If he were to pick? (Belle; Like southern belle whether you're fem! or not, Rodeo, and he might call you Americano- but like, in the coffee way. Like it's a sweet nickname, not just him saying your nationality)

Southern hospitality is something he is not used to. Again, bad experience with Americans. So if you explain all the various manners and nice gestures that are considered expected in your home state? He's completely confused, wondering why the Americans he's met don't keep that attitude up when they leave home.

Again, really likes it if you use southern pet names. Especially if you're trying to console him after a really tough day/mission. For some reason it really helps, like a cup of warm coffee on a cold morning.

"Aye, don't stress yourself over it, darlin'. Bad things happen that we can't control, you did everything you could and you were great at it. Don't let it eat at'cha, honey-bun." "Gracias, Bella. Lo necesitaba…" "Anytime, big guy. Now, you wanna see me try and fail again to open a de la Rosa without breaking it?" "Aha! How about I show you a trick to do it instead?"

Again, like Ghost, you're his special American. Gaz calls you his emotional-support American once and he thinks it's really funny, he'll call you as such every now and then.

✧Rodolfo Parra✧

Sweet darling man. He has nothing against you being American, nothing. But...he cannot understand anything you're saying. He's doing his best but he really doesn't know. He can feel his brain frying every time you bring up something super southern, trying to understand.

He'll have to lean over to your team to ask for a translation, anyone but Soap & Price will tack on an "I think, I'm not sure" at the end of their explanation. If he hears you use a phrase more than once, he'll add it to a little list of notes with the translation underneath it. Treats it like a whole different language. It's adorable.

Like Alejandro, he thinks it's funny if you speak Spanish with your accent. He'll keep a straight face because he knows you can't help it, but man is it fun to hear.

He's not very fond of a lot of yelling if he can avoid it, Rudy prefers disputes to be handled with calm words if possible. But he understands that sometimes it's necessary. Still, he'd want to try and calm you down if you're yelling. But, if you're just acting sickeningly-sweet, kind words that are clearly dripping with venom? He'll just watch. He thinks that shows you handle yourself very well and it's pretty attractive to him, not gonna lie.

"Awww I'm so sorry you're upset, poor thing. God bless you, sir, you have a lovely day. I hope that stick up your ass doesn't hurt too bad." "¡Soldado! No digas eso…" "Shh, sugar, it's fine. He wants to be rude, I can be rude back. An eye for an eye. Don't worry your pretty lil' head bout it, sweetheart." "Dios, a veces me asombras y me aterrorizas."

He's really hesitant about American food. It smells great sometimes but all he hears about American food is that it's greasy, or too salty, etc. Still, he won't deny any meal you make. He thinks it's rude to deny food unless it's something you're allergic to.

He ends up liking a few things, but he is biased to his home cooking. But if you start making his favorite foods, or somehow combine the styles in an honoring way? Oh, those are his favorites. He's particularly fond of American sweets though!

Please bake for this man, bake for him, I beg. Apple pie is an American staple for a reason and he'll jokingly claim he'll move to America if it means he can have apple pie every day.

"Rudy, that's your fourth piece! Ahaha, if I knew you liked it so much I woulda made ya more." "Ay, please do! ¡Fue enviado desde el cielo!" "Alright then, hun, I'll be sure to make you all the apple pie ya want."

Rudy really likes if you wear stuff like a cowboy hat. He's not really sure why, he just thinks it's really cute. If it's a staple of your whole look(like John's hat), seeing you protective over it, he thinks that's really cute. If you're protective of your cowboy hat but let him hold it/put it on his head to hold it, it's gonna fluster him. Even if your guy's relationship is completely platonic.

If you live near the border of Texas & Mexico, it makes visiting you pretty easy, so he'll have no qualms about going back and forth when off duty. He'll be more comfortable in his home but he won't turn down the offer to see your home, especially if it's a ranch. He's got a soft spot for farm animals. (Particularly goats)

If he has any control of how you choose your call sign, he'll likely pick something the same way Gaz does. But, if you have a thing about what certain people call you - like how only Ghost can call Soap "Johnny" - He feels really warm and fuzzy if he gets a special privilege.

(Translations; "Eres un maldito idiota. ¡Tan útil como las tetas de un toro!" - "You're a fucking idiot - as useful as a bull's tits/about as useful as tits on a bull!" "Gracias, Bella. Lo necesitaba…" - "Thank you, bella/beauty. I needed it." "¡Soldado! No digas eso…" - "Soldier! You can't say that..." "Dios, a veces me asombras y me aterrorizas." - "God, sometimes you amaze and terrify me." "¡Fue enviado desde el cielo!" - "It was sent from heaven!")

#call of duty mwii #call of duty x reader #call of duty #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #captain john price #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas #rodolfo rudy parra #rodolfo x reader

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serendipityandbenevolence · 2 years ago

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I gotta say, when I passed out last night after writing this post, I didn't expect to wake up to people actually liking it. but hey! thanks for the support. As per my little footnote (if you didn't read it then sucks to be you ig) the people who commented got first choice of which characters im going to write. love y'all by the way <3 which means that first up is... Dottore! (as requested by @amber-sekio and @gallantys)

(I am not playing rn when I say that I spent a large amount of time reading Dottore x reader fanfic so I could figure out how the hell to write him and this is probably still ooc but i did my best)

Contains - Yandere behavior (kept to a minimum though) dottore being a charming ray of a human (he mentions enslaving other countries), discussions of blood and injuries

"Dottore?"

The silence from the hallway was almost deafening. The sudden intense quiet was broken only by the gentle crackle of the fire, a welcome reprieve as your words hung in the air. Perhaps it was stupid, to call for a person who may not be there and who, of all the Harbingers, might be the most likely to still attempt to kill you. A foolish whim, but nearly dying does funny things to a person's rational.

Your door slid open silently, revealing the Doctor himself peering in at you. He did not appear to be wearing his mask, but with the low light and strands of blue hair covering his face, you couldn't make out his features well.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

Something was wrong. His voice was too soft, his words too gentle, the whole demeanor was wrong. You knew he had segments that acted differently, but you couldn't imagine Dottore ever being that kind sounding. But you were in too deep.

"Can you come in here, please? I need to ask you a question."

A few murmurs struck up behind him, but Dottore simply nodded and stepped into the room, turning his back to you as shut the door.

"You know..." he mused as he clicked the lock shut.

Ah, there it was. With the door closed, his voice changed, with that hint of cruelty and mania that you had come to associate with him lacing his words. His blood red eyes bored into you, a sly smile creeping across his face.

"Oh, what's with the expression? You seem a little scared of me, Divine One. Am I not as nice as you assumed?"

He didn't allow you to answer, pacing closer to where you lay, buried beneath the pile of blankets.

"There's really no need to be scared of me. After all, I was the one who nursed you so lovingly back to health when you were brought here out of the cold. Aren't I so generous?"

"You healed me?"

You didn't bother hiding your concern. You kicked off your pile of blankets and assessed your body, trying to see if any of your organs were missing.

"My my, do you have such little faith in me? I am a doctor after all. One of the best I'll have you know."

He leaned against the wall by your bedside, giving you a rather unnerving grin.

"Well, you have my undivided attention. What was it that you wanted to ask me?"

You were starting to think that it was a very bad idea to ask for Dottore, but you also suspected that saying you wanted to talk to someone else would go over even worse.

"Yes, I just...wanted to know what I missed while I was asleep. You know, with the other nations."

"Ahh, of course! Well, upon some reflection they seem to have come to the conclusion that you are the actual creator and not a 'fake' as they so cruelly labelled you. Needless to say, quite a few letters of apology have been sent begging for your forgiveness for their dreadful ignorance. Including-"

He reached over to you, laying a shockingly gentle hand upon your bandaged side.

"-the one who nearly killed you."

"You know who it is?" you asked in surprise.

"But of course! Simply assessing your wound, I could tell the weapon and the particular style of it, which made it rather easy to cross-referencing that with the time and location that you were attacked and deduce your attacker with little difficulty. "

"Really?"

He scoffed. "No, of course not. They mentioned in their letter that they were the one who harmed you."

Dottore stepped away from you, pacing towards the door as he pulled a crumpled note from his pocket and tossed it onto the end of your bed.

"You should read it sometime, it is truly a delightfully pathetic read. They only made one mistake."

"Mistake?"

He turned to look at you and you saw that all of the cruel humor that had covered his face was gone, replaced with an infinitely scarier coldness.

"They signed their name. So now, I know exactly who will be my next experiment, when we invade the other nations."

There was silence for a moment, before his features softened and he let out a soft laugh.

"You should sleep. It's the best medicine after all. We can discuss this more in the morning."

Dottore went to turn from you once more, but paused as you opened your mouth.

"Dottore, burn the letter. I don't want to read what they have to say."

A wicked grin flashed across his face as he snatched the letter back up and strode towards the fire.

"You know, I think-"

He tossed the letter into the embers and watched as it instantly caught alight.

"-that you and I will get along very, very well."

Dottore pulled the door open and gave you one last comment before leaving, not even turning his head.

"Sweet dreams, Your Grace."

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That took me so long to write guys 😭 but anyway i hope you liked it! like i said earlier, i struggle a bit with dottore because he has all his different segments with different personalities but i think this turned out okay.

Also, the order for the next few harbingers will go as such

Tartaglia- requested by @gallantys and @followingyou247

Pierro - requested by @mistresssasori

Capitano - requested by @moonlite-drabbles @megsthings and @legendarysacrificer-blog (yall really love him clearly)

If you guys want to help me pick the order after that, go ahead in the comments!

also tagging @heizoubeloved in this because you mentioned wanting to see more!

#yandere genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin sagau #dottore x reader #fatui x reader #fatui harbingers

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luxaryllis · 2 years ago

Note

Ok so Crowley found a way for yuu to go home just as yuu is walking through the portal after saying goodbye to everyone there's a blinding light for a second and yuu wakes up in a hospital bed as yuu wakes up all that they can hear is the heart monitor attached to them and the TV that is playing Disney movies as the doctor comes in he tells yuu that they've been in a coma for 2 years which is how long they have been spending in twisted wonderland and that they have been in a car crash soon but steadily yuu realizes that everything they have been thought was just a figment of their imagination

Nothing

Note: Ooohhh, okay, this is kinda interestinggg!

Apologies for the long wait, Moon, but here it is!!

I'm posting this right before going to sleep, so I'll probably do some proofreading and stuff tomorrow? Idk lol-

Warning/s: Coma, Mentions of a car crash (I don't go over much details), Some parts may or may not be inaccurate, Possible canon divergence?, Reader/MC is referred to as Yuu, Possible OOC, Not a lot of research was put in this, Please tell me if I missed some

"Do you really have to go, henchman? N-not that I'd miss you or anything! If anything, you would be the one missing me!!"

Grim said as he looked up at you from the ground. You were standing infront of a mirror. The mirror that would bring you home.

Though his words were haughty, you could easily tell that he wasn't being serious. Anyone with functioning eyes and ears could hear how the little monster's voice cracked and wavered, and how his ears were pressed down to his head.

You smiled softly, crouching a bit to ruffle your companion's fur. No one missed how Grim leaned into your affection and headpats.

Crowley cleared his throat to catch you attention. Once all eyes were on him, the headmage spoke. "The Dark Mirror is now ready to take you to your world, Yuu. It won't be open for much longer."

You nod, getting up from your position as you slowly walk to the mirror that brought you here, and will soon take you away from here.

As you reach the mirror, you take one last look to everyone else, who had came and wanted to see you off.

Ace and Deuce were tearing up, and (though Ace wouldn't admit it very easily) were very reluctant to let you go when you had hugged them. Trey and Cater were sending you sad smiles and were comforting Deuce (who had started crying a bit). Riddle made sure that you were fully prepared for your arrival home and made you promise not to forget them, a promise you were more than happy to oblige with. You remember feeling your heart and chest throbbing, from what you think is sadness.

Jack gave you a firm handshake as a goodbye, though you had pulled him into a hug right after. A little beep was heard in your head while you hugged the wolf beastman. Ruggie told you to be safe out there in your world, while Leona just gave you a simple headpat.

The Leech twins, Jade and Floyd, gave you their respective goodbyes, with Floyd taking you into his arms an giving you a tight squeeze while Jade watches you with a calm smile. Azul nodde at you, saying it was a pleasure to know you, and watched with a sad gaze as Kalim pulled you into a hug.

Kalim held you in a tight embrace as he started bawling, crying about how he'll miss you so much and how much of a great friend you were to him. Jamil had to shove Kalim off you so he could get a single word in and patted your shoulder and told you to take care of yourself. Before the Scarabia dormleader could jump you again, he held Kalim back as you sent him a grateful nod.

Your friends from Pomefiore made their goodbyes rather quick, but you knew that you would never forget them. Epel gave you a hug with teary eyes, making you promise never to forget them. You had made it a pinky promise, despite Epel's hesitance, though he conceded either way. Rook made sure that your clothes and appearance looked up to par while Vil had reminded you to take care of yourself and your appearance. While moving on to your Ignihyde friends, you felt strange, like you were leaving your body, but chalked it up to how you were gonna miss them a lot.

Idia gave you a solemn nod, as if he were sending you off to the military, and Ortho wanted to take a group picture to commemorate the moment! The picture ended up really well, and Ortho printed it out through himself and gave a copy of it to you. As you walked by, you heard Idia muttering about how this was the "ultimate ending of isekai games and anime".

Like, Idia, Sebek gave you a nod, but you knew from his twitching hands that he wanted to hug you, so you embraced him for the last time, not even caring about his yelps and shouts. Though the green-haired first year shouted a bunch of things to get you to stop, you noticed how he held you tightly to him and didn't make a move to shove you off. Your heart felt like it wanted to leap out your chest. Silver gave you a soft smile and nodded at you, telling you to take care. Lilia patted your shoulder and reminded you to be good and gave you some wise words of advice. Malleus, who you personally invited, smiled at you and said that he would always remember you as his greatest and closest friend. You like to think his words even squeezed your heart a little.

As you looked at everyone and teared up. You quickly wiped them off, not wanting to get too emotional and waved everyone goodbye as you walked in the mirror. You vaguely heard everyone's voices shouting a 'goodbye' back at you, before everything turned white and the noise faded into earsplitting beeps.

Eventually you felt yourself lying down on a kind of stiff, but soft surface, like those beds in an infirmary. You heard steady beeps coming from your left, and felt multiple things on you. Like your wrist having a few wires attached in it, and a mask covering your nose and mouth. You tried to move, but you couldn't, as if your body had gone numb.

This made you panic. Had you gotten kidnapped? Were you even back in your world? Why were there things attached to you? Where even were you?!

Soon enough, you felt control over your body, you tried moving your hand, but only got a small twitch. It was only then that you realized that there was someone holding your hand. You heard a gasp, and someone announcing, "They're awake!"

The hand holding yours felt comforting, which was why when they let go, you were tempted to reach out and hold it again. You heard a light commotion, and opened your eyes. The bright light overwhelmed you and made you close it again. You try again, and again, before you hear a calm but soothing voice tell you to take deep breaths and slowly open your eyes.

You follow the instructions, and find yourself calming down and looking face-to-face with a nurse. The nurse wore a medical cap and mask, so you couldn't exactly see their features.

You look around a bit more, seeing that you were on a hospital bed, in a hospital room, attached some thing right next to you through some tubes in your wrist.

Why were you in a hospital? You look to your side and see your parents standing there with worried looks on their faces. The nurse signals them that they may approach you, but told them not to overwhelm you.

Your parents immediately go to you, asking you in soft questions if you remember them and what happened. You do remember your parents. But you don't remember exactly what happened.

Maybe it was the 2 years you've been in the world of Twisted Wonderland, but it's like your latest memories of your life before ending up in Night Raven College have gone blurry.

Your parents hesitantly tell you what had happened. "Two years ago, you got hit by a car, and got a nasty concussion and terrible injuries. You were immediately rushed to the hospital, where the doctors did their best to save you. And they succeeded. Somewhat. You fell into a coma ever since, and you've finally waken up!!"

...A coma...? Slowly, you look around again, realizing that on a monitor on the wall, Disney's Sleeping Beauty was playing. The song "Once Upon a Dream" became bavkrgound noise rather than music as you realized something.

Everything... was fake.

The world of Twisted Wonderland was fake! Did... did that mean your mind had conjured up everyone, Ace, Deuce, shit, even Grim!!

All those moments, the friendships, the bonds, the memories! Were they all just a small figment of your imagination?! Like a dream that lasted 2 years?!

The overblots, getting kidnapped in Scarabia, sneaking into the Styx Headquarters! Was it all just... nothing?

Your mind runs into delirium and hyper mode, thoughts of disbelief and all your memories just rushing through your eyes.

All that hardwork, the tears shed, everything was all for nothing? Was the world of Twisted Wonderland really just some made-up reality you created?!

As you hear your mother calling out your name, you snap out of it. You reassure yourself. It was just the magic of the world. Your mind must have traveled between the worlds or something.

Yeah... that must be it... right...?

The nurse begins to usher you back on the bed, advising you that you must rest before fully engaging with the world. Your parents leave the room, giving you their respective goodbyes and you're left alone in your hospital room.

You seal your eyes shut, and try to get some sleep. Unbeknownst to you, a crow watched you from outside your window, before fluttering away. It'll come back soon enough, just how it always did.

---

END

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krisdreaming · 3 years ago

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Expect the Unexpected

Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi x gn!reader

WC: 1.5k

Summary: You're sick, so naturally Kiyoomi will want nothing to do with you... right?

A/N / Disclaimer: To be completely honest, I have very little knowledge of Sakusa's character outside of fics I've read, but this lil idea just popped up in my mind and I had to write it :') so, deepest apologies if he seems ooc here. Also, a note that this is set in a magical land where covid doesn't exist - reader has a common flu, that's all.

You're dazing in and out of sleep when you hear the knock on the door. With a start, you sit up straight on the couch, then cradle your throbbing head in your hands. You suddenly remember that Kiyoomi had been planning to stop in today after practice. You've been so miserable all day that you hadn't even thought to send him a text.

You get to your feet, the congestion in your head making you a little unsteady until you catch your balance. At the door, you peer through the peephole and see Kiyoomi standing patiently on the other side. With a sigh, you crack the door open the slightest amount.

"You should probably go away," You croak out, surprised by how terrible your voice sounds. You haven't had to use it today since you called off work this morning.

"Y/N?" You can hear the concern in his voice, but you're envisioning him cringing away from the door.

"I'm sick. You don't want to catch it. Just go home." You feel terrible. You know how he feels about germs, and the last thing you want is for him to feel uncomfortable because of you. You can hear him shuffling uncertainly outside of the door.

"Please," You go on. "I'm fine. Just go, okay? I'm sorry I didn't text you."

"It's fine," He says quickly. "I - okay. If that's what you want, I'll go."

"Yes," You say, your voice suddenly no more than a whisper. "Don't feel bad, okay?" You force out.

"You don't sound very good," He says matter-of-factly. "Why don't you go lie down?"

"Okay," You murmur. "Bye, Omi."

"Get some rest," He says firmly, and with that, he turns to go. For a few moments after he leaves, you remain at the door, a bit shocked by his sudden departure despite what you'd expected. Finally, when your legs begin to quiver, you make your way back to the couch. You pull your blanket around yourself and curl back up. If anything, you only feel worse.

It shouldn't surprise you that he'd responded that way. After all, you don't want him to catch this flu either. It's best for everyone that he's safe at home.

You aren't sure how much time passes, but soon you hear another knock at the door. With a frown, you pull yourself to your feet again and peer through the peephole. To your surprise, Kiyoomi's face appears there again.

"Omi?" You open the door a little wider than you had before, and you take in the sight of your masked boyfriend, a shopping bag in each hand.

"I got you some supplies," He says simply, lifting the bags in illustration. "Can I come in?"

"I'm sick," You say dumbly, but step aside anyway. He walks through the door, and you watch him quickly survey the room. A slight frown crinkles his brow.

"Why aren't you in bed?" He chides, striding to the kitchen and depositing his bags on your small table. "You shouldn't be sitting on the couch when you're sick." He pushes up his sleeves, and before you can really register what he's doing, he gathers up the glass, mug, and bowl scattered on the coffee table. He plops them in the sink, and you finally speak up.

"You don't have to do this," You say as firmly as you can muster.

"I want to. You should sit, at least," He gestures to the couch, and it doesn't take any more coaxing than that for you to settle into the cushions. Without batting an eye, he brusquely reaches for the bag of scrunched up tissues you'd placed unceremoniously next to the couch and deposits it neatly in the trash can.

His next order of business is to wash his hands in the kitchen sink, using the antibacterial soap he'd suggested you buy months ago. "I'm going to heat up some broth for you," He explains, rooting familiarly in your cupboard until he finds a suitably sized saucepan. With the broth heating on the stove, he fills your kettle and sets it to heating as well.

"I've got some ginger tea. This should help you feel better. There's some honey, too, to mix in. I know you always take your tea sweet." You can't fight back the small smile that's tugging at your lips. A warmth is beginning to fill you that's completely different from the fevered sweat from earlier.

"After this, you're going to bed," He adds sternly, taking the time to wipe down the counters and table while waiting for the water and broth. "How long have you been sick?" He finally asks with a sigh, fixing you with his dark gaze.

"It was just a scratchy throat yesterday," You feel like you have to defend yourself. "But I woke up this morning feeling pretty awful. I called in to work."

"That's good," He hums, "Your body needs to rest. That's how you'll recover quickly."

"Yes, dad," You say with an almost playful roll of your eyes. The laugh that wants to come out turns into a dry cough, and though he's wearing a mask, you imagine his lips setting into a thin line.

He only shakes his head, and pours the now-boiling water over the tea bag. Carefully, he carries the mug and honey to the coffee table and takes a seat next to you.

To your surprise, he reaches out and presses his cool fingers against your forehead. "Well, if you had a fever, it's broken now," He murmurs almost to himself. His fingers linger for a few moments, and he brushes the sweaty strands of hair away from your face. You can't help it - your eyes slide closed and you lean into his touch. His fingertips trace your cheek for a moment before pulling away.

"I'm sorry you're not feeling well," He says in a low voice, and you peek your eyes open in time to catch the soft concern in his own. "The broth is probably warm enough, now." He stands before you can formulate a response, and carefully pours the broth into another mug. He carries it to you, and you accept it gratefully.

"Take small sips," He warns. You do as he says, savoring the warm broth as it slides across your tongue.

"Thanks, Omi," You say then, clutching the mug to your chest. You can't imagine how pitiful you must look right now with your hair a mess, still in your pajamas, and holding onto this mug for dear life. Still, there's a surprisingly tender look on his face.

"You're welcome," He says. "Just drink as much as you want," He adds, gesturing to the mug. You sip it periodically, alternating with the tea once it's brewed. The two of you settle into a comfortable silence, and Kiyoomi watches the comfort show you'd been playing on TV with mild amusement.

Eventually, you've drank about as much of the broth as you can stomach. With a soft sigh, you lean back on the couch, closing your eyes against the persistent headache pressing at the backs of them.

"I think it's time you got to bed," He says, firm again. "I brought some medicine, too, so as soon as you take it, you're going to sleep." He doesn't leave any room for argument, but you don't really want to anyway.

He presents you with a glass of water and the medicine, and as soon as you've swallowed it, he helps you to your feet. In your bedroom, he turns on the light and pulls back your covers, fluffing your pillows and smoothing the sheets as you stand in the doorway.

"Come here," He gestures, and you feel very much like a child as you crawl under the covers. He pulls them over you, and you instantly feel the exhaustion washing over you.

Once you're settled in, his fingers trace across your forehead again. For a few moments, he cups your cheek in his palm. "I'm going to go so you can get some sleep," he informs you. "Let me know how you're feeling tomorrow morning. I love you," He adds, almost as an afterthought, but with as much warmth and tenderness as you've ever heard in his voice.

"I love you, too." You eke out. "Thank you."

"Any time," The sincerity is clear in his voice. "Sleep well." With a final brush of your cheek, he turns to go, flicking the light off as he leaves your room.

You hear the door to your apartment close softly, but you're still staring into the darkness with a soft smile on your face. By now, you should know to expect the unexpected when it comes to him, but somehow Kiyoomi still manages to take you by surprise.

#Haikyuu #Haikyuu fluff #Haikyuu x reader #Haikyuu x you #Sakusa Kiyoomi #Sakusa Kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader

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