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bunnyley00 · 11 months

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Bittersweet Punishment

pairing: gang member fem!reader x mafia boss!nanami

genre: slight angst, smut, fluff

rating: 18+

word count: 7.8K (something's wrong with me ik)

warnings: slightly angsty, mention of drug usage, nanami is emotionally constipated but eventually figures it out, light bondage with a certain item ahem, impact play (spanking), dirty talk, light degradation, overstim, sex on multiple surfaces, punishment kink, orgasm denial, hair pulling, fingering, oral sex, dom nanami, fluffy aftercare

When you don’t listen to your boss who happens to be running the biggest crime syndicate in the world, there’s ultimately going to be consequences.

Joining the crime ring scene was probably one of the best decisions you could’ve made with your life. Abandoned by your father, and taking care of your mother as she widdled her existence away doing drugs, you had nowhere else to go. Your other relatives were too far away, and they didn’t even know you. So, you sucked it up and finished school, and managed to get a good job at some random company as a data analyst. You always hated it, felt like you were wasting your life away every day at a desk. The only thing that made it worthwhile was your boss: Nanami Kento. He was tall, handsome, and precise with everything he did. Seeing him about once every week to give him your written reports was always a highlight. You strove to go above and beyond, looking for a sense of purpose through your occupation. Needless to say, it paid off.

You see, Nanami wasn’t the man you thought him to be. Yes, he looked strong, probably capable of throwing someone across a room, but you had never seen him act out or be violent. So when one random weekend, you received an anonymous invitation to some undisclosed location miles out, only to discover that the Nanami Kento you know happened to be the leader of the Kaisen Syndicate, you didn’t know how to react. But from then forward, you knew you had found something truly special. If you remember the way he put it: “I respect your tenacity and work ethic more than anything else. I would like to see if you’re willing to display those qualities elsewhere.”

At first, you wanted to deny him, to tell him he’s insane and how could he be in charge of such a terrifying and dangerous group of people. But then, you take a moment. This Syndicate has done terrible things, yes, but only to terrible people: drug dealers, traffickers, money laundering schemists; The list goes on. Even if their methods were less than… moral, the result was a cleaner world, and you could get behind that. So you trained as hard as you possibly could, breaking your limits one by one, body and soul. You probably worked the hardest to get where you were, and it felt good to reap the benefits. You never grew hungry, or without. The Syndicate was like family to you, one you never had. But Nanami, he was always who you had your eyes on, seeking his approval and praise, bettering yourself not only for you but for him. So he could finally just see you without the eyes of a man who’s just in charge.

You suddenly come to your senses, remembering that you were in a Syndicate meeting and it was hardly the time for a trip down memory lane. This is a huge job. That’s what you think half haphazardly in your mind anyway as Nanami continues with his meeting about the next mission that needs to be carried out for the inevitable expansion of the group. A deal had gone wrong with an enemy gang for some material a month back, and now we were to seize the materials forcefully… use them as an example of sorts. That was the gist anyway. The intel was crucial for everyone who could be chosen for situations like this, in case something doesn’t go according to plan. That’s who Nanami was, even at the company; He was someone who had backup plans for his backup plans. But, who could blame him? Working as a salaryman as a front for his mafioso dealings, he needed the insurance. It wasn’t an option.

You’d felt as though you’d certainly be chosen for this mission. You were undoubtedly one of the best in the middle ranks, and your colleagues knew how hard you worked. Someone with barely any prior knowledge of combat, manipulation, and intel gathering forced you to become a novice overnight, something everyone respected you for.

Nanami paced back and forth slowly and methodically in front of a projector displaying the area that would be infiltrated while explaining the details. “As previously stated, this will be a two-man operation at most. There is no need to send the whole Syndicate to a rival organization that cannot respect us or have the common decency to behave. Therefore we shall not be overextending ourselves and show them that we will not be toyed with, with as minimal effort as possible.” His voice was monotone yet smooth, words coming out with purpose.

“You will get in, dispose of any that get in your way, gather the product and return to me. In addition, there is an envelope that you will deliver to their leader. Under no circumstances will you kill him. While it could dissolve them, it could also lead to another person being inclined to take his place and start a full-on war. I’m not a fan of working overtime, as you all know, so a war is not a goal of mine.”

The room full of members all hummed and nodded in agreement, and you continued to watch Nanami, his words beginning to drown out as you watched him walk. He was clad in his usual attire, always in some sort of suit and tie. The jacket fit him just right but the dress shirt underneath was always a little too small for him in the best way. You swore you could see the outline of his pecks, that the buttons were probably screaming to be let free from the prison that was his fit abdominal structure.

“I will summon the two members suited for the job later today. You’re all dismissed.”

Those words made you snap out of your trance, and you stood up, letting everyone file out. You were one of the last ones to leave the meeting room, but Nanami stopped you.

“Wait. There’s something I’d like to discuss with you,” he piped up as he gathered up files and mission info neatly. He’d been doing that quite frequently lately, asking you about your training, about your work at the company, about just…you in general. It never bothered you one bit.

“Yes?,” you ask politely as you turn around, making your way toward him. Your eyes meet his through his glasses, the green tint making it hard to see his actual dark brown eyes. “How has your physical condition been lately? I was informed that you pushed too hard during your spar last week. You were limping for days.” You let out a soft, “Pshh,” waving a bit with your hand, “I’m okay. It was just a few scratches.”

Nanami hated when you lied, especially because you were shit at it. “Besides,” you continue, “Should it matter? I’m just another cog in the machine, right?” “No,” he stated in rebuttal, “I respect and trust every one of my colleagues. Had you been someone else I would’ve asked the same questions.”

‘Wow, way to make me feel special, boss,’ you thought before mentally berating yourself for expecting any other response but that one.

You hum, watching his large hands continue to fiddle with papers. “How have you been, then?” you ask with a raise of your eyebrows. “I hardly see how that information is relevant.” “Because I respect and trust you, I want to know how you’re doing. Same concept.” He knew you were playfully mocking him, then again, you always did that. “It’s not the same. You don’t bear my burdens so my feelings aren’t what matters here.”

God, he was so confusing when he did this. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him. “Sure, boss.” “That attitude is why you’re always getting into heated scraps. And you know I dislike the title ‘boss’,” he mused, “Even at the company I can’t stand it.” He finally finished gathering his things. “Just continue to execute like you always have. You’re one of my best, don’t squander it by getting so hurt that you can’t.”

“Yes Sir,” you answered back respectfully, internally blushing at the words ‘one of my best’. He very rarely complimented you so directly in this line of work.

A day later, you prepared yourself to be called into Nanami’s office at Syndicate Headquarters, the pre-mission butterflies floating around in your stomach in a way that made you increasingly giddy. Walking about the halls, you waited and waited, looking for an announcement, listening for gossip on who he’d chosen. You hoped to hear your name amongst the hushed whispers. However, what you found out frankly just pissed you off.

“Didn’t you know?”, Itadori asked, chewing on a piece of his milk bread fruit sandwich. “Know what?”, you cocked an eyebrow up. “Nanamin chose me and Takuma-san.” “He what?!” “Yeah, the meeting was earlier this morning. I asked him if he was sure and he just said what he always does. The whole, ‘This is the most efficient way’ spiel.” Your eye twitched and Itadori knew exactly what you were about to do, “Good luck.”

The other members could see it all over your face, and didn’t try to stop you as you practically stormed up to his office. They knew only you would get away with stunts like this, outwardly and inappropriately showing your anger and or frustration over a decision that’s already been made. You didn’t even bother knocking, just opening the door to a quiet Nanami penning away in his notebook at his desk. “So was it a lie?,” you said curtly, letting the heavy door shut behind you.

“I was expecting you. What are you talking about?”, he spoke up, glancing up at you before returning his eyes to his work. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” “Is this about the mission?”, he asked, finally giving you his full attention. “Is this about the mission? Of course it is! ‘You’re one of my best’? Was it a lie?” “Why would I lie about something like that?”, he asked calmly. “Well, obviously I’m not because you’re sending Itadori and Takuma! I’m just as good if not better for the job!” Nanami sat back in his large leather chair, fixing his glasses. “Just because I’m not sending you doesn’t mean you’re not equipped for the job.” “So why?!” “Don’t yell.” You didn’t even have time to register who exactly you were talking to and kept going, genuinely hurt by his seeming oversight of your abilities after all this time. “No! I want to know why I won’t be there!”

Nanami grew quiet, just watching you. Why did he not send you? You were an easy choice. Reliable, capable, strong. He trusted you more than some of the other people under his wing. It should’ve been a ‘home run’ so to speak. But, something in his chest stirred when he thought about you facing off an entire organization basically on your own. You weren’t quite ready yet. It felt…wrong to send you. “Because both Itadori and Takuma are a bit more experienced.” “Bullshit.” “Excuse me?” “Did I stutter?! Bull! I don’t care if they are! I’ve worked my ass off! I deserve this! Stop lying to me. Do you think I’m too weak? Is that it? Is it because I’m a woman?! You think I just belong back at the office?!” You knew that didn’t make any sense. Gender never mattered to Nanami, but you were just so angry you wanted to, as bad as it sounded, blame him for something.

Those words made Nanami’s brow furrow. He was getting quite irritated. “You deserve it? Please tell me how exactly you do when you’re in here throwing a fit like a child. And don’t you dare imply such a disgustingly sexist and absurd thing. Not only are you disrespecting me but yourself as well. You aren’t going. That’s my final say on the matter.” You felt more and more of your emotions swirling inside of you, manifesting itself as heat in your face and fingertips. “What’s the matter with you?! You compliment me and give me extra attention and training and tell me I’m one of the best but you don’t send me on one of the most important jobs since I’ve been here?!” You raise your arms in defeat, fighting not to get teary-eyed.

“Yes! That’s exactly what’s happening!”, he raised his voice back, fed up with your attitude and how you spewed baseless accusations at him. The tone was deep and almost guttural, and it made your eyes widen in surprise and your body jump, startled at the outburst. He never got like this. Nanami couldn’t comprehend why you were so upset. He was just trying to make sure that you didn’t overextend yourself. That was the only reason. Right?…Right?

You grew quiet, eyes and body relaxing before biting your lip, your eyes growing cloudy despite your efforts. “You know what? Fine. You don’t want me to go? I won’t,” Nanami wanted to apologize for raising his voice, but he knew it would fall on deaf ears. You began to turn around to walk out before turning your head to look at him. “Anything else I should be informed of before I leave, Kento?” Nanami clenched his jaw slightly. You were one of the few people who knew his name. The other members would just call him “Leader” or “Boss”, much to his dismay. Nevertheless, you never used it until now. “You’re dismissed.” He watched you stomp off, putting his head in his hands as soon as the door to his office closed behind you.

The day of the mission was nigh, and per the meeting, you knew when your coworkers would head out and where to meet. “Screw Nanami. I’ll fucking show him,” you mumble to yourself, getting dressed in all-black attire to carry out the mission without his permission. You prepped as much as you could, and when you arrived at the rendezvous point in the dead of night, both Itadori and Takuma recognized you immediately.

“Uhh, what are you doing here?!,” Takuma whisper-yelled frantically. “I told you she’d show up,” Itadori mused, a quiet laugh slipping past his lips, “I don’t know why she wasn’t put on the mission in the first place.” “How’d you even know it was me?”, you asked, looking around to make sure the coast was clear. “Because you’re the only one stupid enough to defy Nanami like this,” Takuma stated matter of factly, “And who cares if she’s just as capable, she wasn’t chosen,” he said to Itadori. The pink-haired boy just shrugged, “I’m sure we could use the extra help. I mean, sure Nanamin wouldn’t be necessarily happy about it but we’d get the job done.” Takuma just groaned in disapproval, “Whatever. I don’t approve of this but I can’t stop you.” You gave both of them a cheeky smile, “You’re right. You can’t.”

Some part of you wished he had stopped you. The mission was successful but at the cost of heavy bodily injuries. Takuma got the worst of it, and you were right behind him. Somehow, though, Itadori came out mostly unscathed, with only a few bruises littering his body. He was always kinda freaky like that, like a walking superhuman. You, on the other hand, had various wounds ranging from stabs, to dark purple and yellow bruises, and your back was littered with scratches from a glass window pane you were kicked through. You wore the injuries proudly though, musing that they were your badge for succeeding. The other members couldn’t help breaking into whispers the moment you 3 returned to Headquarters, no doubt talking about you. You didn’t have the fucks to give though, and you proceeded up to Nanami’s office with head held high.

The moment Nanami saw you with Itadori and Takuma, he was fuming. It was exactly why he didn’t want you to go in the first place. You were hurt badly and it made him rethink his… feelings toward you because the way his chest felt seeing you that way didn’t feel normal. “Itadori, Takuma,” his eyes landed on you next, taking in your state. “All three of you-,” he was interrupted by Takuma, “Sir, I told them I didn’t approve but-,” It was Nanami’s turn to interrupt him. “I care not about the details of who went. How did the mission fair?” “Went off without a hitch!”, Itadori smiled, “More people resisted than we initially thought though. Took a lot for them to actually get scared.” Nanami hummed, “And the envelope?”

“I delivered it,” you piped up, “It’s with their boss safe and sound. The materials are also back in our possession as well.” “Is that so? Good. Well, as per usual, based on your condition you shall all take a short break from the field. Itadori, you should only need a week or so, right?” Itadori nodded, “Yeah Nanamin! I’ll be all good.” “I thought I said stop calling me that.” “Aw, but it’s a really good nickna-.” “Whatever,” Nanami gives up. They have that conversation every other day and it always goes nowhere anyway. “Takuma, 2 weeks for you. There’s nothing broken, right?” Takuma shook his head. “Just lots and lots of bruising, heh,” he lifted his hand to scratch the back of his head but winced as he did so.

Nanami returned his hard gaze to you. “I want you on a month's hiatus.” “But-” “No arguing. You have deep stab wounds that need stitching and proper healing. I just know you’ll do nothing but go back to training if you return here. A month at the least.” You couldn’t even fight back, he was right. The wounds were fighting to close, hot and throbbing. “The nurse downstairs will tend to all of you. Go home after, get some rest,” he stood, looking at all of you, “Good job for a successful mission despite some changes in the moment. I’m glad you’re all alright. You’re dismissed.”

After Itadori and Takuma left, you expected to be called back, but Nanami just sat back down at his mahogany desk, continuing to work. “No reprimand?,” you asked in the quiet of the room. He glanced up at you, “Not at this time. Your recovery is more important. You’ll receive some corrective action when you return. I’ll see you at the company in the meantime.” That was unlike him, but you supposed he already felt bad for the argument the both of you had earlier. “Not kicking me out are you?” “Not in the slightest. You just need some… readjustment for your behavior.” “Sure thing, Sir. Goodnight.” “Goodnight. And I’m not lying when I say that I am glad you’re alright.” The statement made you smile a bit. “Yeah.”

The next month went by fairly quickly, although you weren’t going to Syndicate Headquarters every night. You almost enjoyed the break from the constant fighting, and ended up taking a bit more extra time. You still saw Nanami every day at your day job. The clothes you wore covered most bandages, and you explained the visible ones away as just plain, clumsy behavior. Your wounds healed nicely and at a rate you didn’t expect. Only one stab wound needed stitches. You’d surely have scars but that didn’t bother you. They were merely proof that you were alive. So, when you were back at the Syndicate after almost 2 months, you were welcomed with open arms, literally. They all dog-piled onto you like you’d been gone for years, saying that they’d missed you and your presence around the place. You smiled and laughed with them, once again incredibly grateful for such a large group of people who loved you unconditionally. “Oh! Nanamin said he wanted to welcome you back. He’s in his office,” Itadori informed you. “Okay,” you nodded, promising you’d be back as you made your way toward your leader’s door.

“You asked for me?”, you piped up as you opened it, letting it close behind you. Nanami was standing, both hands leaning back on his desk. “Lock it.” “Huh?” “Lock the door.” Your heart started beating a little faster just then. “Why?” “I just don’t want to be interrupted.” “O-kay?”, you spoke slowly, following his directions. “Welcome back.” He took off his glasses, running his hand through his blonde hair before setting them aside. Sometimes you forgot that he didn't actually need them to see. He then asked, “How are your wounds?” “Glad to be back,” you smiled, “They’re way better. That extra time I took sped up the healing process..” What was he up to? He looked… different somehow. Oh, how you had no idea. “That’s good. There are 3 things I’d like to inform you of…,” he trailed off, his eyes intense. “First, I am sorry for yelling at you.” You looked down at the floor, “I’m sorry for yelling as well… and accusing you.” “I now know why I was so adamant on keeping you from the mission,” he continued, letting his hands softly move him off of the desk and toward you, “And that brings me to number two.” He used one hand to slowly lift your chin, and the action surprised you. Your eyes widened slightly, and you swore you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. “It was more than your skill set, or even keeping you from overextending yourself.” His voice was silky smooth, deep in all the right ways as he spoke to you. “It was because I wanted to keep you from harm's way. I didn’t want to see you in pain or with so many injuries. Because in reality…,” he’d been slowly walking you back, yet you didn’t notice and were surprised when your back hit a solid wall.

His face moved past yours and dipped down for his mouth to reach your ear, the tips of them hot much like the rest of your body. “I’ve always wanted you,” he whispered. “Every part of you. At first, I thought it may be just the way I admire your tenacity. It wasn’t an unreasonable thought. You work hard, all for me, don’t you?” You didn’t even register that a question was asked, mouth dry and mind foggy from the kindling of fire in your lower regions. Your breath rose and fell steadily but deeply, your breasts almost rubbing against him with each inhale. “I,” you started, “I, yeah. I do.” “Exactly. And then I thought: ‘How did I not notice?’ Whether you’re at the company, making sure you wear a low-cut shirt so the tops of your breasts are flashing me while you read off your report to me, or when you wear tight pants to incite me to look at your curves at the Headquarters, you’re always seeking my attention. And more importantly, you’re seeking my praise. Am I wrong?”

He was reading you like a book now, and even though it took him an eternity, you still didn’t expect to feel so exposed in the moment. He pulled his head back a bit to re-establish the heady eye contact. You tried to be coy. “I mean, not necessarily,” you managed to breathe out. “You really are bad at lying, you know? The extra training, the almost excessive reporting, taking on extra work, asking me repeatedly, ‘How’d I do?’ The look on your face when I compliment you is filled with warmth and something else. But I can probably infer what that is.”

Being pinned against the wall was the least of your worries, as your clit throbbed against your panties, hands at your sides and Nanami kept you caged in like a predator closing in on his prey. “And the third thing?”, your voice trembled. “Ah, the third thing. Do you recall what I said before you left my office 2 months ago?” “Something about readjusting my behavior?”, you breathed, beginning to put the pieces together. “That’s right. Good girl.” The shiver that ran down your spine shouldn’t have been that intense, and it made you squirm against him. “Now, is this what you want?” His question was serious, not laced with arousal but genuine. “Maybe,” you said slightly playfully. “A terrible liar as always,” he said quietly, leaning down to kiss you. Your lips slotted together slowly yet intensely, and it was everything you’d been waiting for. His large hands made their way to your waist, squeezing you softly as you moaned into his mouth. He let you indulge because this would be the last time you would for a while. Your arms made their way up to his broad shoulders, wrapping around them while he nipped at your bottom lip.

Your body screamed, begged for more, the heat in between your legs growing in intensity. After what felt like an eternity of teasing bites, small prods of tongues, and little sounds being consumed by Nanami’s lips, he pulled back. You just about whined and Nanami couldn’t help a small smirk. “I’m sure you’ll live. You waited this long, right? Don’t forget,” he squeezed your hips a bit more, “This is a punishment. You directly disobeyed my orders. So now I have to take my time and break you down piece by piece, and put you back together again.” “Heh,” you let out a breathy laugh, “Is that what you intend to do?” “Oh, darling, it’s what I’m going to do.”

You had to be dreaming, but the way your breath hitched and your pussy ached had to be real. His hands moved upward, trailing the sides of your abdomen and then shifting to take the hem of your shirt and lift it up. You let the shirt slide over your head, watching as he tossed it aside. You took no time in taking off your shoes, Nanami leaning down to kiss you again as he kneaded your tits through your bra as you worked on your pants. Now that he’s gotten a taste of you, he is going to indulge in every facet of your body. As soon as your pants were discarded you were left in your matching bra and panty set. He pulled back. “I want you bent over my desk, with your hands resting on your back.” You nodded a bit, “O-Okay,” you said breathily as your body began moving towards the desk. His words stopped you in your tracks. “Okay, what?” “Okay, Sir,” you corrected yourself, and you swore your pussy got wetter. “That’s better. Good girl.”

He watched you get into position, and when you were, he took a moment to admire your body, how small it was compared to him. It made his dick throb a bit in his pants. In just a few minutes you’d be putty in his hands, moaning and writhing all for him. It really did take him too long to get here. You heard the sound of clothes rustling and then what you immediately recognized to be his tie tying your wrists together. The desk was cold against your skin, sending goosebumps along every inch of it. “Isn’t that your favorite tie?”, you asked playfully. He only reserved his tan suit and speckled tie for special occasions. “It is. Why wouldn’t I wear it on a day when I train a brat on how to behave?”, he asked, finishing the knot and following up his question with a smack against your ass.

“Ah!,” you yelped in surprise, squirming against the desk. “Not too loud now,” Nanami mused, “You wouldn’t want the rest of the Syndicate to know how much of a disobedient brat you are, would you?” Slap. “A-Ah! No!” “No, what?” Slap. “N-No, Sir!” “Good, good.” He rubbed his hand against your now slightly red cheeks, the touch soft despite his calloused hands. “This is long overdue, you know? How many times have you disobeyed me? Ignored my instructions because you felt like you could do it better your way? Even at the company, trying to undermine my authority.” Slap. “F-Fuck,” you moaned, fighting back the instinct to get loud. “It really is a pity, darling, that I had to resort to such,” slap, “physical means of getting through to you.” Your ass was on fire and you jumped a little every time Nanami’s hand came down on your cheeks. You wanted to squirm away but it felt so good. At this point, your panties were soaked with your wetness, a visible spot on them.

Nanami watched while you squirmed and shifted on the desk, your ass jiggling with every sharp movement. You were nearly on your tippy toes, and he could tell you were enjoying yourself. “Now, how many times do you think I should bring my hand down on this ass of yours?”, he asked. You heard him shift and then felt fingers tugging at the hem of your panties. They were pulled down slowly, your bare ass now on display. A wet string of slick connected you to your panties until it broke, the clothing item now at your feet. “I-I don’t know,” you whined, the cold of the room hitting your core. “You don’t? Want to take a guess, darling?” Nanami reached a hand to your pussy, lightly running two large fingers against your folds. You gasped and moaned, hips moving back against the touch. “You won’t get what you want until you give me a number.” Your forehead was up against the mahogany wood, breath escaping as mild panting, heating up your face more in the process while he persistently teased your pussy. “T-Ten,” you finally spoke up.

“Only ten? Do you really think a brat like you only deserves ten?” Nanami did a few quick circles on your clit. “Fuck, N-Nanami, I don’t know, please.” “Hm? Please what? You still haven’t honored my request yet.” He pulled his fingers back. “Okay! O-kay. Twenty?” “Twenty sounds fair enough for all the trouble you’ve put me through. Good girl.” Slap. “That’s one.” “Shit!” Nanami used his other hand to continue to rub your clit at a painstakingly slow pace, occasionally dipping the tip of his digits into your entrance. Slap. “Mmfm!,” you moaned, biting your lip to hold in your sounds. With every slap came the delicious feeling of focusing on his fingers, but the combination of pleasure and pain left you dizzy. “You’re enjoying yourself aren’t you, darling?” Slap. “Does this feel good? Me punishing you for being a bad little brat?” Slap. “Your greedy pussy is dripping for me.” Slap. “G-God, yes it feels good!”, you answered obediently and he rewarded you, sheathing the full length of both fingers inside of you. “You look so gorgeous tied up like this.” Slap. “I should punish you more often, shouldn’t I?” Slap. You were drowning in pleasure rutting back against his fingers and eating the satisfying sting of his palm against your ass. Although the pace was slow, the knot in your lower abdomen began to build, your orgasm creeping toward you like a thief in the night. By the last slap you were whining and whimpering, Nanami’s fingers still working inside of you.

“Would you like to cum, darling?”, he drawled, the sound of his fingers entering and exiting your hot, wet slit filling the room. “Y-yes! Please!”, you beg without much fight, cloud nine so close but so far. Nanami kept going, speeding up his fingers until he felt your legs tremble and your breath become uneven. You were just about to tip over the edge and then…nothing. The loud whine that you let escape your mouth didn’t even sound like you to your ears, and Nanami took both hands and squeezed your thoroughly reddened ass cheeks, your arousal still on his fingers. “It seems that you’ve forgotten that this was a punishment, darling. You don't quite get what you want yet.” “Nanami,” you whined again, hips moving back in search of something, anything to cure the ache in between your legs. “You really are an impatient little thing aren’t you?”

Nanami helped you get to your feet and guided you to the other side of his desk. He sat in his chair. “Kneel for me,” he spoke up, and you followed directions swiftly. He made sure that you didn’t lose your balance. You watched as he unfastened his belt, and you felt a sliver of shame as your mouth began to water. He unbuttoned his pants and then looked at you. “Use your teeth.” “Yes, Sir,” you almost moaned, leaning your upper body forward to get into position. You let your teeth grab ahold of his zipper, following a command of, “Look at me,” as you pulled it down slowly. Nanami let out a small sigh and assisted you in pulling his throbbing dick out of his pants. It bounced out of his briefs, his tip sticky with his pre. “Show me you’re a good girl,” he spoke up, using a hand to softly caress your jaw and trailing it up into your hair.

You leaned into the touch, letting out a soft, “Yes, Sir,” as you let your head descend and your mouth wraps around the tip of his cock. It was thick, and you moaned at the taste of his pre cum. Looking up at him, you began to slowly bob your head, coating his length in your saliva. He groaned, letting his head rest against his chair as he watched you intently. “That’s a good girl. There we go, just like that,” he praised, making your already swollen clit almost hurt from the arousal. You lifted your head off of his dick, licking from his balls to the tip repeatedly to trace the pulsating veins that ran up it. Your head went back down onto him again, taking him in more and more with each movement. His hand guided you through it all, your sticky spit running down his dick and onto his balls. You began to wonder if you could really handle not cumming for this long, your pussy hot and needy. You tried to sneak your other hand down to your clit and the grip he had on your hair tightened. “Where’s that hand going, darling? Did I say you could touch yourself?”, he asked, pulling your head up and off of him.

Your spit ran down your chin. “N-No.” “Right, I didn’t say that, did I? So why is your hand trying to play with your bratty little pussy?” You moved your hand. “I-I’m sor-” The moment you did he pushed your head back down onto his cock, moving it up and down forcefully. “And here I thought you learned your lesson,” he grunted, moaning at your hot mouth, “But I guess brats never really learn do they? Have you got anything to say? Hm?” You struggled to produce the words ‘I’m sorry’ as his dick moved in and out of your mouth and throat, the sounds coming out garbled and riddled with wet, sloppy sounds. “Yeah? Are you sure?”, Nanami asked, his brow furrowing from the pleasure. You attempted to say yes, but gave up entirely, letting him use your mouth. He pulled your head off when he was close, dick pulsating as he denied himself sweet release. You coughed and sputtered a bit, eyes watery from the forcefulness of it all. Nanami leaned down and pulled your head up, kissing you hard enough to take the little wind left you had out of your lungs.

You gasped as he suddenly stood, picked you up, and put you on the desk, but ass up face down. He sat back down in his chair, your wet pussy right in front of his mouth. “Is this what you want?”, he spoke right against it and you moved your ass back so much you almost fell. He held your ass and hips. “Please, Kento, please,” you begged, a whining mess with your cheek up against the wood. “I want it, I want it.” Nanami didn’t leave you hanging, instantly starting to suck on your clit. “Oh god f-fuck!” His mouth sucked and licked at your slit, taking in the taste of your arousal with a low groan. He hummed, letting the vibrations give you a bit of extra sensation. Your hips rocked and shook, and he held you tight, not allowing you an inch of movement as he ate you out like it was the last thing he’d ever do. “Kento! Oh god, Kento fuck!-” “So vocal for me. Although I don’t expect anything else from a brat like you who can’t keep her mouth shut otherwise.” He let his long tongue dip inside of you, pushing your hips back and forth to tongue fuck you. His thumbs spread your ass cheeks apart, opening up your pussy for him.

You were so sensitive you were shaking. Your tits were rubbing against the desk, nipples hard from the teasing stimulation. Your pussy clenched around his tongue and once again you felt your orgasm creep up on you while Nanami licked you. He sucked on your clit repeatedly, letting it go with a small pop sound over and over again, switching between that and using his tongue to soak your slit in his spit. “Shit- shit, fuck,” you panted, brows knitted tightly on your face as your eyes shut. Nanami knew you were close, could see it in the way your legs trembled and your moans broke up into gibberish. “Going to cum, darling? Hm?” “Yes! Pl-please! Kento! Let me cum!” Nanami kept licking and sucking and like clockwork, as soon as the precipice was before you, you were yanked back. It almost made you want to cry. “Kento cut it out, please! I’ll be good, I p-promise! I-”

Your sentence was interrupted by Nanami adjusting you and pulling your legs back down so your toes touched the floor again. He stood up and started to press himself into you, his cock stretching you out in a way you didn’t think was possible. You were so close to finishing the feeling of him sheathing himself inside of you made you cum. “F-fuck! Oh fuck!” You moaned and writhed and Nanami growled behind you, starting to slowly piston his dick inside of your pussy. His hands traveled up to his dress shirt, unbuttoning it and tossing it aside while he fucked you. “You said you wanted to cum, right? Isn’t that what you wanted, darling?,” he breathed. Being edged made you 10 times more sensitive, and all you could do was moan and hiccup from the way your pussy convulsed around his length. “I’m giving you what this pussy wants.” Nanami couldn’t help himself, watching as your ass moved with every thrust into your pussy. All you could do was take it, Nanami’s hands preventing you from running.

The room was filled with the sounds of sin: the slapping of skin, your desperate moans, and Nanami’s growls and grunts. He began to move faster, and you could feel his tip hit your cervix in the best way with every single thrust. “K-Kento! F-f-fuck!” “Is this all you wanted, darling? You being punished and fucked like the brat you are?” You nodded weakly, too enraptured by the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you. You began to shake again and Nanami slapped your ass. “Go ahead, I know you want to. You’ve been begging for it all night. Cum.” Your body responded immediately and your orgasm slapped you in the face. Your hips couldn’t buck from his strong grip but the rest of you did, squirming on the desk while you coated his dick in white.

Nanami didn’t give you a chance to rest, pulling out and quickly picking you up. He slid back in as he carried you over to a small sofa on the other side of his office. He bounced you up and down like you were a rag doll as he walked, kissing you feverishly and swallowing your moans until he laid your back down onto the cushions. Grabbing your legs, he put them over his shoulders, starting to thrust into your pussy again. The change in position left your head spinning, and deeper angle made your moans increase in pitch and volume. “Keep these pretty legs up here while I fuck you into submission,” Nanami growled, holding them as he pounded you. “G-od shit! Fuck! Y-yes, yes, y-yes Sir!” “Now look at that, she’s learning,” he smirked a little, letting your legs rest against his shoulders and leaning down to kiss you more. Your knees were damn near touching his ears and you couldn’t get enough. His hands tried to reach under your back to unclasp your bra, but he got impatient, instead ripping it through the middle and taking a tit into his hand to knead while he fucked and kissed you.

Moans poured into Nanami’s mouth and he drank them like the sweetest wine he’d ever tasted. His dick started to hit your g-spot, and you couldn’t control the way you grew even louder. He was relentless against the sensitive area, and you started to whine. “I-I’m gonna! G-gonna c-cum!” That was the only warning you gave him as your pussy clenched and tightened around his cock rhythmically. “Oh? Is my good girl that sensitive?” Nanami reached his hand down from your breast to your clit and you started to squirm harder. He had you pinned with nowhere to go as you tried to handle the overstimulation. “T-too much! Please Kento!” “Too much? But I thought you wanted to cum?” He asked, voice breathy but still deep against your lips. He rubbed and fingers faster and harder and sped up his thrusting, and you felt like you could explode. His cock was covered in your cum. But he wanted more. He wanted to show you he could deny you, but he could also make you overindulge. “Give me another one. Now. Now brat, cum again.”

Your body seemed to be running on autopilot, listening to his command the moment it left his lips. The intense pleasure made your eyes well up with tears and Nanami praised you over and over again. “Good, good girl, there we go, that’s what I wanted,” he moaned as he continued to thrust. He moved his hand and picked you up again all without pulling out once more. When he got to a wall, however, he did put you down, his dick slipping out of you as your weak legs held you up in front of him. “Against the wall.” “K-Kento I don’t think I can sta-” “I won’t let you fall. Hands against the wall, darling.” You turned around, putting your palms against the wall and jutting your ass out. Nanami took one hand and held your hip, easing himself back into you with a moan. He took the other and ran it up your neck, grabbing your hair almost from the scalp and pulling your head back as he began his fervent pace once more. You couldn’t hold back your moans, and your legs wanted to give out. He wrapped his arm around you to keep you steady.

“That’s right. I’ve got you. All you have to do is fucking take it,” he groaned into your ear. “Y-ah! Yes Sir! K-Kento oh fuck! Oh fuck, oh fuck!” You were trying your hardest, but your words descended into gibberish and half-spoken curses. Nanami was beginning to lose his patience, his dick throbbing angrily inside of you from holding back his orgasm. But he needed one more out of you. He wanted to leave you shaking with ecstasy. “Take it, take it, take it,” he growled with each thrust, your mouth open as you began to slightly drool, hot, salty tears running down your face. The both of you were covered in sweat, and it just made the slapping sounds of his balls hitting your slit even louder. “This is your punishment,” he moaned, “Are you going to disobey me again?” “N-No!” He moved forward slightly so his mouth was right up against your ear. “Are you going to be a fucking brat or are you going to be my good girl?”

Your vision was getting hazy. His dick was fucking you into oblivion and you gladly wanted to let it. “Answer me,” he growled, yanking your hair a bit harder. “Ah! G-good! I’ll b-be good Kento!” “Say it,” he panted, starting to feel himself get closer to release. “I-I’m a good g-girl!” “Again.” “G-god- fuck Kento pl-please!” “I said again!” “I’m a good g-girl! I’m y-your good girl K-Kento! Fuck I’m gonna c-cum please l-let me cum!” “Do it, darling. Cum for me.” The both of you came at the same time, and he held you as much as he could as he let his cum pour into you. “F-Fuck!”, he moaned loudly while his hand holding your hair moved to cover your mouth, knowing your screams would be extra loud. They were mixed with cries, the overstimulation leaving you weak. Your hips convulsed and he growled into your ear as it filled you up, his thrusts slowing down as the both of you rode it out.

He gently pulled out of your spent pussy, keeping you upright as he finally untied your wrists. Tossing the garment away, he picked you up and held you close to his chest as he sat down on the sofa. You laid your head in the crook of his neck, your legs wrapped around his waist. “You did so well,” he whispered, stroking your back. The air grew silent then and you both basked in the afterglow of everything. The both of you cuddled for what felt like hours, eyes closed and heartbeats steady. “I really…am sorry,” you piped up, voice a low whisper. “Hm? Are you talking about the mission?” “Yes. I should’ve listened to you. I wasn’t quite ready yet.” “It’s alright. What matters is that you came back safe and sound,” he murmured, absently feeling a scar that ran up your back from the incident. The both of you grew silent once more, letting each other feel and touch each other's skin intimately in the process. “I can’t believe it really took you this long to figure it out.” “…I’m not sure how that information is relevant to the situation.” “Now look at who’s being a bad liar.”

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pumped this one out in two days, it was super fun to write. hope you enjoyed it! <3 -leyley

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v3nusstardust · 9 months

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🤍”Somethin’ stupid”🤍

Pairing : BF!Niki Nishimura x DEPRESSEDreader! (Real) 🎀

Genre : fluff <3 sad af tho idfk what the genre is

WARNINGS : mentions of self harm, depression, anxiety

A/N : SRRY I usually post like once a week and I forgot to this week I think… Idrk I literally have a fucking concussion rn💀 happened bcs lowkey thought I was in a music video and did cartwheels in my room at 3 am and smacked the shit out of my head and then hit my head on the floor and woke up seeing Gojo Satoru shakin ass 💀😜 anyway enjoy yawl😳

•

In the car with your boyfriend Niki, heading to the movie theater, the atmosphere was perfect –soft music, and a feeling that made life worthwhile. It had been a month since you’d seen him. These small moments you had with Niki made your life worth living. Most of the time he was busy or away for his idol duties and you’d miss him so badly. You would wonder if him being away for so long would end up with you both breaking up or you both falling out of love. The thought always made you feel nauseous and overwhelmed. Your overthinking would get the best of you sometimes, and you would result to self harm. Niki had no idea though and you never planned on telling him.

"Y/n, you might want to ditch the hoodie; it's getting pretty warm in here. You're sweating," your boyfriend chuckled, casting a glance your way. "No kidding, it's hot as hell." You sighed wiping your forehead with your sleeve. As you started to pull down the zipper your hoodie, the memories of your scars made you hesitate. “Actually I’m fine. I can handle it.” You reassured Niki. “Huh? Don’t risk a heat stroke, take it off,” he insisted, concern etching his face. “No I’m literally gonna be fine trust me.” You countered, zipping your hoodie back up quickly. “Y/n. It’s the middle of summer and you’re wearing a hoodie darling. You might wanna take it off.” Niki suggested, a puzzled look was painted on his face. “I’m gonna be alright trust me.” You gave Niki a sweet smile, trying to look unsuspicious. “Whatever you say Y/n.” Your boyfriend sighed.

You and Niki finally arrived at the movie theater. You checked in, got tickets, got snacks and headed to your movie. The air-conditioned theater promised relief from the summer heat, but your hoodie remained a steadfast companion.

Inside the cool, dimly lit theater, you found your seats, the contrast between the chilly air and your hoodie creating a cozy bubble. The movie previews flickered on the screen, and the scent of buttered popcorn filled the air.

Niki leaned over and whispered, "Are you sure you won't overheat in there?..”

“It’s cool in here Niki! I’m fine.” You softly giggled. The movie began, and you got so into it that the hoodie wasn't on your mind anymore. The plot grabbed your attention, and the cozy warmth just blended into the background.

Midway through the movie, Niki gently reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. Your initial reaction was surprise; you were aware of Niki's habit for tracing his fingers along your palms and wrists. Softly pushing his hand away, you met his gaze. He looked absolutely ethereal in the dim theater lighting.

"Do you not want to hold hands?" Niki whispered, pouting with a hint of sadness.

"I do, just... not right now," you replied. Niki's worried expression prompted him to ask, "Is there something wrong?"

You hesitated before responding, "No, no, I just... don't worry about it."

Your words, though intended to reassure, unintentionally stabbed at Niki's heart. His love for you was profound, and while he knew he could be clingy, he never imagined it could "annoy you." The worry in his eyes lingered as the movie played on.

You both went back to the apartment after the movie. The car ride was quiet because you pretended to be asleep, avoiding a talk about why you didn't hold hands. Niki spent the entire ride overthinking what he might have done wrong.

“Niki. I’m gonna go take a shower.” You said, walking off to your room to get your clothes. “Oh okay. I’ll make you some tea for when you get out.” He replied.

When you stepped in the shower, the warm water stung your fresh cuts. You held your wrists and winced in pain, small tears ran down your cheeks. Staring at your wrists, you wondered how you could be so stupid. You regret doing it , because now Niki might see them. The thought made you softly cry. Thank God the shower water was loud enough to cover up your soft muttering and sighs.

After your shower, you returned to the kitchen. Niki was busy cooking dinner and brewing tea for both of you, a delightful surprise that warmed your heart. Soft music played from his speaker next to the stove.

Curious, you asked, "What are you making?" Sitting at the table, he chuckled and replied, "Pasta, I’m trying out new things." The song changed to your favorite, "Somethin’ Stupid” by Frank Sinatra. Excitedly, you exclaimed, "Niki, you added my favorite song to your playlist!"

With a smile, he admitted, "I really like this song. Isn't it your favorite?" You giggled, "Duh! I play it all the time in your car." Niki turned off the stove and approached you. "Is the food ready?" you inquired. "Not yet, but how about we dance?" he suggested, extending his hand with a gentle smile, eyes filled with admiration.

In the soft glow of the dim kitchen light, you and Niki began to slow dance. The soothing melody of the song filled the air as he held you close. The ambiance was warm, and the subtle scent of dinner in the making lingered.

Niki led with gentle grace, swaying to the music with you in a tranquil dance. The rhythmic steps mirrored the easy connection between you two, the worries of the day fading away in the embrace of the moment. His hand rested on the small of your back, fingers delicately entwined with yours. As you swayed together, his other hand found its place on your waist, the closeness allowing you to feel the comforting warmth of his touch. The subtle aroma of the cooking dinner heightened the sensory experience.

Niki's gaze, brimming with stars and admiration, locked onto yours as he gently took your hand in his. However, reality snapped you back, and a sudden fear of him discovering your self infliction made you pull away. You pulled your hand away from his gently. Niki stopped dancing with you, his eyes locked onto yours with concern. "I'm sorry for asking, but why don't you want me to hold your hand?" he inquired.

A tremor ran through you, fear intensifying. Taking a deep breath, you hesitated before admitting, "I... I just," struggling to find the right words. The fear of Niki discovering your scars weighed heavy on your mind.

After a moment, you decided to face it. "Actually, you know what? Hold hands with me," you said, mustering a smile and intertwining your fingers with his. It was a fleeting decision, hoping that the dance would end before he’d notice. He brought a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Your hair smells good.” He nestled his nose into your hair. The song made the moment vulnerable. You found yourself forgetting about all your worries once again. He brought his lips to your wrist, you didn’t even catch it either. You were too busy humming the melody of the song into his chest. Niki pressed his lips to your wrist. He quickly pulled back and examined if, squinting his eyes. You suddenly realized what he was doing. You pulled away from his arms and held your wrist. His face looked indescribable. Worried, sad, confused all at the same time. The song had stopped already, and the room fell silent. "Y/n," Niki uttered softly, his voice carrying a mixture of concern and care. Before he could say more, your lips began to quiver, and tears welled up in your lashes. A gentle cascade of tears spilled from your eyes.

Niki, swift in his response, hurried over and enveloped you in a warm embrace. His chin rested on your head, and his hand traced soothing circles on your back. Anxiety gripped you like a constricting fog, the weight on your chest almost suffocating. Tears stained Niki's once-white shirt, but he paid it no mind.

"It's okay. I'm not upset," he reassured, planting a tender kiss on the top of your head. "My poor, beautiful girl. When did you do that?" he asked, lifting your chin to meet his gaze. Your hyperventilating made it challenging to speak, rendering you silent in the vulnerability of the moment.

Your hyperventilation began to subside, allowing you to regain some composure. "I..was just.. overthinking," you finally managed to admit, your voice still shaky.

Niki's expression softened, a mixture of empathy and a determination to be there for you. “Was it because of me?” he whispered, his thumb brushing away a tear that lingered on your cheek.

You hesitated, the weight of your emotions pressing against your chest. "Yes?... no," you stumbled over your words, struggling to articulate the whirlwind within. "I just miss you so much when you're gone for so long. I feel so lonely again. You're... you're my only light, and the only one in my life who actually makes me happy. I can't stand it when you're away."

Niki's gaze held a depth of understanding as he gently cradled your face. "Y/n, I didn't realize. I'm here for you, always. I’ll bring you with me next time, and the next one after that. I promise my love,” he reassured. His words soothed the ache within your heart. “I’ll be back,” Niki gently pulled his body away from yours. “I’m gonna go get bandages from the bathroom. Sit down,” he kissed your cheek before leaving the room.

When Niki returned, you couldn't help but chuckle at the state of his shirt, soaked with tear and snot stains – undeniably gross. Standing in front of you, he gently took hold of both your injured wrists, his eyes carrying a mix of hurt and pain. Soft elastic bandages in hand, he began to wrap your wrists with a delicate touch.

As he worked, you noticed a subtle glisten in his eyes. His fingers traced along the palms of your wrists, a silent acknowledgment of shared pain. You looked up at him with teary eyes and saw the vulnerability in his gaze.

"Promise me you'll never do this again," he pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. Small tears escaped his eyes, tracing down his cheeks. Overwhelmed, you apologized, "I... I'm sorry. I promise. I'm so sorry."You rose from your chair, embracing Niki tightly, the shared pain and promise binding you together in that moment. “I love you so much darling you have no idea. To know that you’ve been hurting yourself like this.. it kills me.” He whispered softly. “I love you too, Niki.” You placed a soft kiss to his chin.

"Do you wanna finish making dinner, and then we can cuddle after?" you proposed.

As Niki's sniffles gradually subsided, a tender smile graced his face, the corners of his eyes still dampened. Niki's smile widened as he looked down at you. "Of course," he agreed, his head tilting slightly. In that gentle tilt, he closed the distance, leaning in for a long, reassuring kiss.

Together, you continued with the meal, the kitchen filled with the comforting aroma of food and music. You showed Niki more songs you liked and he added them to y’all’s new slow dancing playlist.

As you placed the finishing touches on the meal, Niki slid his arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace. "Smells amazing in here, thank you for helping me darling.”

The conversation during dinner went smoothly. You both talked about stories of the past and dreams for the future. Niki's eyes, still holding a glimmer of tenderness, locked onto yours, reinforcing the unspoken understanding that this moment, amidst shared laughter and a table filled with love, was truly special.

Cuddling on the couch, the outside world faded away, leaving room for the intimacy of shared comfort. “You’re so pretty y/n” Niki admired your facial features. The smell of his fresh Basil and mandarin cologne brought you comfort. You threw your leg over his and snuggled closer onto him. He could feel your soft breaths on his neck. Niki peppered kisses on your temples. He was humming a gentle tune to one of your favorite songs. The moment made you realize how lucky you were to be with someone like him.

A/n : erm I literally fell asleep writing this w my hard ass fit on and makeup bruh my skin is breaking out hella someone come kill me. Srry for the amount of mistakes btw I did not read over it 🤓🤓 I raw dogged this it might be shitty Also I hope y’all liek:3 i put my whole venussy into this. Xoxo💋💋

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dailyadventureprompts · 2 years

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DM Tip: The Trouble With Treasure/ An Alternate Wealth System

If you’re a player or dungeonmaster who’s at all interested in game design you might’ve noticed D&D’s treasure and economy systems suck. You also might have noticed even if you’re not interested in game design, because the longer you play d&d the more it becomes glaringly obvious that the game doesn’t actually HAVE a treasure and economy system despite pretending otherwise. This is a major problem given that seeking riches is one of the default adventuring motivations, and largely stems from the fact that back in ye-olden days gold was directly related to experience points, so wealth accrued exponentially in line with the increasing cost of levelling up. This is why magic items cost to damn much despite being not only a staple of the genre but absolutely necessary to the long-term viability of certain classes (as I discuss here in my post about gear as class features).

After being cut lose however, nothing was really DONE with gold in d&d from a gameplay perspective: Treasure generation largely fell to dm discretion or random tables, and the useful things a party could buy steadily shrunk to the point where characters could be stuck with their starting equipment for an entire campaign. “Too much gold and nothing to spend it on” became one of the major criticisms of d&d 5e, but only touched on the problem that without something worthwhile to spend treasure on the party has less and less reason to venture into the dangerous unknown, take dodgy contracts, or perform any of a half dozen other plot beats that make up traditional adventuring.

The system likewise breaks down once you pass a certain threshold of wealth, or once you try to model larger economic activities: divvying up a lockbox full of dungeon plunder to reequip your heroes before launching out on the next mission works great for the first couple of levels, but completely falls apart when you're dealing common enough story tropes such as running a business, transporting cargo as merchants, or caring for the estates around a castle.

What I propose is splitting d&d’s economy into two halves: Wealth, which represents the piles of GP and other coins the party carries with them, and Resources, more abstract points which chart how plugged in the party is to local systems of production, trade, and patronage.

If you’d like an explanation of how these systems work, and how they can improve your game like they improved mine, I’ll explain both of these mechanics in detail below the cut, as well as subsystems that let your party open businesses, operate estates, build castles, and make a living as merchants.

Wealth: I wanted to limit the amount of money my players kept with them without instituting an encumbrance system that might drag things down. Instead I wanted to rely on a more “common sense” method of tracking wealth, and get them thinking about their stores of gold as a physical object rather than a nebulous point pool they can dip into.

Conveniently, every character starts play with a coin pouch, which can hold up to 300gp (about 6 pounds). I use this as a “soft cap” for how much money a character can be expected to be carrying around with them, not including jewellery or small valuables like gems.

Theoretically a person could have more than one coin pouch, carry their wealth around with them in a chest (15,000gp) or a cartoon sack with a dollar sign on it (1500gp), but this becomes increasingly cumbersome and provides a greater and greater chance that the party will be targeted by thieves. I don’t need to add any more mechanical crunch to this factor, I just inform the party “ hey, you look like you’re carrying a lot of money, better be careful going forward” and plan my encounters accordingly.

Instituting this cap likewise prevents gold from losing all meaning once the party is high enough level to have found their second or third treasure hoard. Sure, they might be living it up in an aristocratic lifestyle back home, but when it comes to set out into the wilderness they suddenly have to think of GP as a resource along with spellslots and hitdie. Getting robbed, forced to give bribes, or simply losing their coin pouch suddenly becomes an actual threat to them regardless of level.

Resources: The party has a pool refereed to as resources, representing their holdings, relationships with patrons, and personal enterprise. The party’s total resources are pooled, and are represented on a scale from 1-50.

Every week, provided they have contract with their economic network, each member of the party party receives earnings equal to 12.5 gp x (the party’s total resources) representing them drawing a living from the connections they’ve already made (working a trade, doing odd jobs, getting payouts from investments)

In order to obtain a new level of wealth, the party must either invest 500gp per point of wealth they which to obtain into a new or ongoing business project (either their own, or that of a trusted contact). Alternatively, the party can get their resource pool boosted by forming agreements with tradesfolk or wealthy patrons, who may grant the party such agreements out of friendship or as part of a reward for doing quests. Resources are recorded with a number beside them, representing how much of the party’s total resource pool they represent. This is so that if something happens to jeopardize that resource, the party knows exactly how much of their earnings are up in the air.

For example, a party that saves a merchant captain from pirates early on in their adventures might be rewarded with a share of her ship’s takings, gaining 1 point of resources. In the future, they may pour some of their adventuring loot into her business, increasing their total amount of holdings with her to 6, and their weekly payout to 75gp. If that captain and her ship were then lost in a storm, those resources would be frozen, halting the party’s payouts and encouraging them to discover just what it was happened to their friend as the base of a new adventurehook.

Buying against Resources: D&D is weird in that it prices magic items, ships and castles like they can be bought off the rack, when in any pre-industrial society most “new” things would have to be constructed from scratch with labours and artisans paid a steady amount over months or years until the thing was complete and then delivering it directly into the hands of the one who commissioned them. Sure a weaponsmith or apothecary would likely have a storeroom full of items to sell to clients walking in off the street, but shipyards aren't spending years churning out galleys to leave them waiting for a buyer like a used car lot.

Because plenty of games involve at least a section where a party might establish a fortress, fix up a ruined estate, or commission a magical artifact, it helps to have a guideline: Find the base price of the item, chop it in half if the party or one of their business contacts can source the resources (or if they’re fixing something that’s broken) Next they need to pay for labour, “reserving” points out of their own resource pool to hire on workers and supplementary materials, divide the item’s price by (500x the number of resource points the party is willing to spend) to find how many months it’ll take for the item to be finished. Note that during this time, the party’s effective resource score is reduced by the amount they’ve reserved. This makes it possible for a mid level party to start refurbishing their dream castle early, rather than having it simply poof into existence once they’re too high level to really get use out of it.

Ongoing Services: Rather than worry about keeping track of hirelings, or a number of other factors, I let my party reserve points off their resource pool indefinitly to retain the services of NPCs. Each “holding” the party has (buisness, ship, estate) likewise requires one resource kept in reservation for general maintenance, unless the party want to take a month off and maintain it themselves.

A party that owned a tavern then might reserve one resource to maintain their establishment , another to pay for the staff, and begin to think about hiring on some guards for a third as something is causing fights to break out more frequently.

Another party which owned a pirate ship, they’d reserve one resource to maintain the ship, another to pay the crew, and a third to bribe the harbormaster who looks the other way when they bring unsanctioned goods into harbor. After hearing about their big score however, their corrupt contact asks for yet another resource worth of bribes, potentially stretching the party’s resources a bit thin.

Using Resources to be a merchant: If pirates come up often in this post it’s because I drove myself half mad several years ago trying to run a skyship campaign, and the logistics of hullspace v supplies v the staggering price of trade goods v market demand drove me up the wall. I lacked a simple system that would let my party FEEL like they were high-risk traders without having to slow the game down with accounting. Here’s my Alternative: there’s a special type of resource called “goods” connected to caravans and trade vessels, which can be expanded like any other. At the end of every month who’s ever in charge of that venture (Player or npc) makes a mercantilism roll ( possibly charisma, possibly wisdom, + some relevant proficiency) for each of those goods based against a DC set by the dm regarding how good trade is doing in that region. If it’s a success, the markets are flowing, and the goods rating goes up by 1. If it’s a failure, they go nowhere, as no profit is made. If they fail by 10 or more, those goods loose one point due to bad investment, and if they succeed by 10 or more, the goods double. When the party receives their payment, they can chose to cash out for 500gp per point of good, possibly then reinvesting in the venture.

#dm tip #dm tips #dm tools #writing advice #Merchant #caravan #pirates #dm advice #the loot overhaul

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alwritey-aphrodite · 1 year

Text

The Worthwhile Fight

Chapter 6 of There’s Nothing Like This

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x fem!footballer!reader

Warnings: none :)

Word Count: 2.5k

Author’s Note: we’re entering the home stretch now folks - only two more chapters!

After the gala, things seem different, on and off the pitch. While you were winning games before, now that you were truly unified and working together seamlessly as a team, you were practically unbeatable. You’d started spending more and more time with Jamie, and when you weren’t together you found yourself thinking of him, and you rationalized it by telling yourself that you thought about Mackie all the time too.

Deep down, though, you knew it was different.

More often than not, you and Jamie spend your nights together, relaxing in front of the TV and letting yourselves unwind after all the training you do during the day. You’d been trying to be better to yourself, allowing rest days at the gym and icing your body and taking it easy when you need to, but most of the time, you’re continually pushing yourself past the breaking point, and you know everyone around you notices.

Sometimes, when he sees the way you favor your left leg and how you unsuccessfully try to wiggle out the pain in your foot, Jamie will gently take your feet into his lap, kneading and soothingly rubbing at your sore muscles until you feel like you could cry from relief. You can never seem to find the words to thank him, so instead you’ve started keeping his favorite snacks around and letting him choose the movie or show you watch together.

It’s like everyone around you knows something you don’t with the looks and glances you get walking into Nelson Road as you talk with Jamie. Whenever you enter the dressing room, you feel your teammates eyes boring into the back of your head, even as you get dressed and try to ignore the uncomfortable sensation and the heaviness it creates in your chest.

As a team, you continue to do better and better, winning match after match and soaring through the ranks. The team’s very first year in the league, and you’re predicted to finish first, despite what many of the sports columnists have to say. It amazes you, how so many people could continue to say nothing but negative things about your team when you’ve been winning left and right, knocking even Arsenal back to second place.

Thankfully, everyone at Nelson Road has been doing their part in keeping the positivity alive, shouting the praises of your team whenever they’re asked. If given the opportunity, the players on the men’s team would talk about you for an entire interview, doing whatever they could to counteract the never ending criticism.

“They’re all good players, some of them are better than my teammates,” Jan Maas says currently on your TV and you can’t help but to laugh at his typical Dutch bluntness. All of the boys have gone to bat for you, whether it’s on instagram or a TV interview, a quick comment to a fan or an answer to a reporter. Sitting on your couch as you mentally prepare for the day, you’re a little overwhelmed by the love you feel from everyone at Nelson Road.

Keeley, who has been grinding nonstop ever since she came up with the idea for a women’s team, has organized a photo shoot for you and some other women in the league, as a part of a campaign to get more young girls interested in soccer. As much as you coveted these match-free weekends, you’d do anything Keeley asked and anything to hopefully improve the public’s opinion on women’s soccer.

When you arrive at Nelson Road, though, you’re shocked to see a familiar car and a familiar man coming out of the building.

“Last I checked you played on the men’s team,” you quip when you’re close enough not to yell across the parking lot. Jamie jumps, then a smile overtakes his face when he realizes it’s you that’s talking.

“I was trying to do some training, got kicked out when Keeley needed to set up the lights and shit,” he tells you, coming to a stop next to you instead of continuing on his way to his car, “want me to stick around? I can drive ya home when you’re done?” It’s a little shocking, how sweet that offer is, and you’re almost brought to tears by his thoughtfulness.

“Jamie, this could take hours, go enjoy your Saturday,” you reply, despite the strange urge to take him up on the offer.

“Maybe we could grab dinner, when you’re done?”

“That would be nice,” and it’s a little shocking how much you mean that, so he gives you one last dazzling smile before continuing on to his car and you head inside for the photo shoot.

Once inside, you’re bombarded with hair and makeup and jewelry and your Richmond kit, all thrown at you with lightning speed while you try and introduce yourself to the players around you. It’s intimidating, to say the least, being in the same room with players you still idolize, and it’s hard not to feel like an imposter, hard not to feel like you don’t belong. The girls are all very sweet, and by the time the actual photo shoot rolls around, you’re all laughing and joking like you’ve known each other for more than five minutes.

There are individual shots and group shots, shots on the pitch and shots in the dressing room, action shots and posed shots, all with Keeley shouting encouragement from behind the photographer. Even though you all play on different teams, it’s impossible not to feel a sense of comradery with the girls, all of you hyping each other up during solo shots despite the fact that when next weekend rolls around, you’ll all be willing to do whatever it takes to win.

With all the positive energy and the whirlwind of the camera flashes, the afternoon passes quickly and before you know it, you’re being shooed out of the dressing room so the camera crew can take down their equipment. When you make your way out into the parking lot, hair still styled and makeup still near perfect, you’d been so focused on the photo shoot that seeing Jamie’s car waiting for you sends a shock through your body. Before you’re able to doubt yourself, doubt if this is really a good idea or not, you clamor into the passenger's seat, still riding high on the energy of modeling.

“You look nice,” Jamie says as you buckle your seatbelt, stealing a few glances as he pulls out of the parking spot, “how did it go?”

“Really good, I think,” you reply, trying to fly past his compliment and not stray into self deprecation, “everyone was super cool and Keeley seemed happy.”

“Good, good,” he adds before you fall into a comfortable silence and you feel yourself truly relaxing for the first time since you left your house. You’re not sure what it is, but something about just being near Jamie makes you feel calm, makes you feel like nothing could possibly go wrong. It’s very similar to how you feel when you’re with Mackie, but there’s something different that you can’t quite put your finger on.

“I hope this is ok,” Jamie says, breaking the silence as he pulls to a stop outside of a little pub near the Richmond Green. It seems quiet and quaint, and just by looking at the outside you can already tell the food will be your new comfort food while you’re away from home.

“It’s fancier than we normally do,” you reply, even though you’re already reaching to open the car door and already dreaming about the meal you're about to eat, missing the way Jamie’s cheeks and nose and ears tinge pink momentarily.

“Figured we could do something other than takeout, celebrate a weekend off,” he shrugs, acting nonchalant and as if he hadn’t sat awake in his bed planning this moment the night before, planning taking you out to a real restaurant, if only to show you his favorite spots around Richmond. You don’t seem to mind, though, and the second you walk into the pub and can smell the delicious food, you’re sighing in relief and Jamie can’t help the way his heart melts a little.

The pub is busy, but the older woman behind the counter simply nods at Jamie and he directs you to a booth in the back, one that’s more secluded than the rest and you wonder how often he comes here.

“Just let me know when you know what you want, I’ll go up and order and then Mae’ll bring it over,” Jamie says, fiddling with the corner of the plastic menu while you look yours over.

Feeling a little overwhelmed and out of your element, you set your menu down and turn to Jamie, surprised to see him already staring at you with a soft gaze.

“Just get me whatever you think is the best,” you tell him, and with the way he smiles at you, half proud and half embarrassed, you’d let him make every decision for you.

Sliding out of the booth and promising to be right back, Jamie leaves you alone with your thoughts, alone to study the room you’re in. You’re not alone for long, though, before three men approach your table with varying giddy expressions.

“You’re that striker? For Richmond?” The shortest of the three asks, and you ignore the swell of pride in your chest when he doesn’t specify that you’re on the women’s team: you simply play for Richmond. Nodding, you try not to grin as the trio turns to each other in excitement, looking seconds away from bouncing up and down when Jamie approaches the table again.

“Oi, dickheads, get lost,” he tells the group, and they hurry to scramble away, waving goodbye and chattering about meeting both of Richmond’s strikers in one day.

“It’s very refreshing to cheer for a team that wins consistently,” you hear one of the three men say as they disappear back to the bar, and you’re grinning when you look back at Jamie.

Despite all the time you’ve been in Richmond, this was your first encounter with real fans, with people from the community who supported you. It didn’t matter that you played on the women’s team, it mattered that you were a Richmond player, practically a god to the fans in the pub, and it made a little bubble of hope grow in your chest that there were more people like those men out there, who supported you through and through.

Almost as soon as the men leave and Jamie gets settled again, the older woman from behind the bar, who you assume is Mae, is bringing over pints and piles of food, brushing off your thanks with a smile and a wink and you’re already planning your next visit before trying any of the food.

“I might’ve went a little overboard,” Jamie says sheepishly as he surveys the plates that take up most of your table, “I just wanted to make sure there’d be something you like.”

Your heart stutters in a way that’s been happening more and more lately, increasing with the amount of time you spend with Jamie, but you ignore it in favor of digging into the mountain of food in front of you. It’s all wonderful, the perfect comfort food to put you in a good mood to start off your week, but you might enjoy the company more than the food.

After you’re finished and Mar waves away every attempt on your end to pay the bill, Jamie drives you home as you continue your meandering conversations from earlier in the evening, and you find yourself a little sad when he pulls up outside of your door.

“Thank you, for hanging out with me and for the great dinner,” you tell him as you gather your bags, the exhaustion of the day starting to hit you.

“We’ll have to do it again sometime?” It comes out more like a question, even though you’re almost certain Jamie was trying to sound confident and sure of himself, but you nod enthusiastically anyway.

Sending you on your way with a wave and completely ignoring your insistence to pay him for half of the dinner you’d shared, Jamie drives away and leaves you all by yourself for the first time since morning. You feel calmer, though, more open to spending the rest of your Saturday evening with only your thoughts for company, so you let yourself enjoy an extra long shower while you scrub away layers of makeup and hair gel and sweat from the photo shoot.

Stepping out of the shower, you’re met with a series of texts from Keeley, along with a few of the unedited photos from earlier.

I’m not supposed to share these - oops ;)

Smiling, you scroll through the few pictures she’d sent and you almost can’t believe it’s you looking back. You look powerful and strong and badass, like the type of player a little girl could look up to, could aspire to be. It makes you more emotional than you thought, and you sniffle a little as you thank Keeley for sending you the pictures.

It’s in that moment that it hits you that you’re doing so much more than playing soccer, you’re breaking boundaries and becoming a role model and being the person that you’d used to dream about being. The thought was always dormant in the back of your mind, that being a female athlete was always about so much more than sports, but staring at a professional campaign picture of you looking tough and confident, being there for little girls to look up to, solidifies those thoughts.

Feeling a little emotional, you settle on your couch with a fluffy blanket and some snacks, flipping through channels for something comforting to watch when you accidentally land on a channel with Jamie’s face staring down at you. The clip is from yesterday, because you remember the blue hoodie he was wearing, and the reporter must have stopped him as he left training.

You’re about to text him to let him know that apparently you can’t escape him and change the channel when you hear your name and a question that makes all the joy drain from your body.

“… is the female version of you?” The reporter asks from behind the camera, and your heart sinks as you wait for Jamie’s response because as much as you want to, you’re unable to look away.

“Mate, she’s scored more than me, she’s leading in assists this season, I think I’m the man version of her,” Jamie replies before he rushes away, looking beyond irritated and upset.

It shouldn’t surprise you, his response to that question, after all the support he and the other Greyhounds have given your team, but something about that specific question made your stomach drop. Hearing Jamie’s response, though, seeing the anger flash in his eyes on your behalf, elicits a completely different feeling.

Your heart is racing and your head feels fuzzy and it’s getting a little hard to breathe and you can’t think of anything other than Jamie and that’s when it hits you like an unexpected pass, like a tackle from an aggressive defender.

You’re in love with Jamie Tartt.

Tags: @andr0medafallen @whimsical-roasting @sokkigarden @hopefulromances @buckychristwrites @guccilongboard @onceuponaoneshot @presidential-facts @yepyeahuhhuh @allthefandomtherapy @gibby31 @buddyjuststop @ellietartt @cancvr @brianandthemays @sonyume @aiyaiy @captainfrisbee @dalebo3 @theloud-yet-quietone @imsoluckyeverythingworksoutforme @rockchickrebel @legobatmans9thab @curlypeter @lostinwonderland314 @yokolesbianism @jamietarttdodo @fan-goddess @innocentbi-stander @skewedcherries

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fluff

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christinarowie332 · 9 months

Text

Whatever you say .

part two

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings : angst , drinking.

part one here

————

“i said careful … you almost gave up the act” he replies leaning against the door frame fully , leaving enough room for me to get past . tight squeeze but it’s enough. i need air .

“what act?” i reply, attempting to make my way past him. holding my breath as my body presses against his in the doorway , his bare chest against mine . he inhales quickly through his nose at the coldness of my skin , looking down at me through hooded eyes . he grabs my waist gently as we are both sandwiched between the archway of the open door . i ignore the feeling of his bare skin against mine , i ignore the pulsing in my ears as he looks at me intently. and i ignore the slight pressing bulge pressing against my stomach at how close were pressed against each other . the only thing i can focus on is his breath , fanning against my face . a tightness in my chest at the grip on my waist falls and he speaks again .

“the act where you pretend your not completely obsessed with me”

——-

my heart skips slightly at his words . a cold rush of adrenaline floods through my spine , into my chest , squeezing the air out of my lungs . i take a deep breath and continue to move . my body pressed flat between the harsh wood and matt’s body . his eyes never leave mine , a silent un-spoken voice in my head screams to go slow ,feel his chest on yours , feel his warmth on your skin , break .

i don’t . i continue to walk away , feeling his eyes burn holes into my back as i try and get the hell out of that hallway . he just stands there . i turn around to catch one last glimpse of him , his arms folded against his rising chest , leaning his back on the door frame , slouching against the smooth wooded object . his mouth is turned upwards in a corner , a disgusting smirk plastered on his features. he knows he won , i know he won . we’re just both waiting for round two .

-1—

it’s been a few days now. nothing has changed , everything he does aggravates me , the small lingering touches , the feeling of his eyes on me at all times , his incessant need to be right , constantly talking down to me like a child . the way his palm grazes the small of my back , the way his eyes flick towards me in the rear view mirror , or his fingers pushing my chin up , forcing me to make eye contact . constantly testing my stubbornness . tonight will be no different.

we find ourselves in a random house . music blasting from overpriced speakers and the rancid smell of body odour and alcohol poisoning my nose . the night started of as it usually would , me , chris , nick , matthew all getting ready at their house , small bantered arguments shared between matt and i , laughter from chris and nick , just an average night on our way to a stupid house party . i now find myself in the kitchen of said house , attempting to find something worthwhile to drink . finally tired of being one of the only few sober people here i pour myself some of the only shitty wine i could find , some half empty bottle of rose i found in a pile of cheap alcohol, the base of the bottles stuck to the marble counter. i notice the song that’s playing , good luck by nao . a smile makes its way onto my face as i take a sip of my wine , closing my eyes and allowing myself to relax against the counter . gently allowing my head to throw back as i feel the alcohol warm my stomach .

“i think this is the most at peace i’ve ever seen you”

i roll my eyes at matt’s voice . of fucking course .

“if this was peace , i wouldn’t be here with you” i reply to him. allowing my voice to hold a hint of amusement . i look over to him now , taking in the sight of his full black outfit , messy hair , chain dangling around his neck . i notice the drink in his hand , my rose is warm , i think to myself .

i take his drink .

“woah hey that-“

“shhh….. this sound is the complete opposite of your voice, please let me enjoy it” i cut him off , pointing to the sky referencing the song still playing . closing my eyes i take a sip from matt’s cup , immediately grimacing at the taste of straight vodka .

“serves you right” he chuckles out , grabbing the drink from my hand , his ring clad fingers brushing against mine as he does so . i make eye contact with him quickly , looking at his half lidded eyes . he looks at the drink in his hand . his hand on my hand .

“how come your drinking tonight ?” i ask him , peeling my hand away from the cup and him . he looks at me suprised , like me actually speaking to him without any anger in my voice , no sarcasm is the last thing he ever thought was possible . he just stares at me . “and vodka aswell ? what’s got you on the hard stuff?” i continue, he blinks and looks away for a second , attempting to hide the smile forming on his face before looking back to me tilting his head.

“liquid courage” he replies , shrugging his shoulders and taking another sip of his drink .

“the fuck you talking about ? why would you need courage?”

“you’ll see” he replies , allmost too fast . his eyes flick downwards , taking my outfit in . i follow his gaze , my low cut black corset top , chris’s jeans i stole from him , a belt allowing them to drape over my hips . then his eyes furrow at my bare shoulders . the goosebumps rising on my skin.

“you cold?” he says . his eyes still traveling over my body and face , never once staying in one place . someone else would take this as a nervous trait , but with matt it’s calculated . the way his eyebrows curl when he meets my eyes , then flicking to my chest for a second , my lips , my eyes , my lips again , my hair , my shoulders, my eyes .

“i’m fine matt.” i reply harshly , finally making his eyes rest on mine . the dim lighting in the kitchen making his facial structure evermore harsh , completely contrasting the softness in his eyes . and his touch as he runs his hand over my shoulders , feeling the goosebumps on my skin from the cold .

“liar. here” he says , letting his black hoodie fall from his shoulders and attempting to place it on my shoulders.

“no matt i’m fine” i flinch away from his attempt .

“for fucks sake y/n quit being so stubborn for once and just take the fucking jacket”

“matt i don’t want your fucking jacket”

he throws the jacket into my chest , forcing time to catch it from falling , “whatever” he mumbles before turning around abruptly. i watch him run a hand through his hair and walk into the living room of the busy house , dipping under people’s arms and weaving through the crowd .

i sigh as i watch him leave , for some reason feeling guilty . i glance down at the jacket in my arms , taking the fabric in my fingers , rolling the soft material between my index and my thumb , zoning out . was i too harsh ? what if i’ve actually upset him ? wait why do i give a fuck ? i am actually cold .

i throw the jacket around my body . walking through the house attempting to find someone i know , or somewhere to breathe , i just need to breathe .

i need matt .

i bump into a body , his eyes are on my body against his chest ,smirking at me as i timidly meet his eyes . his blonde hair plastered against his forehead, a sweaty hot mess and he continues dancing to the random drake song currently playing . “hey baby” the stranger says , placing a hand on my waist , swaying against me .

“hi ….. whoever you are” i reply sarcastically, awkwardly smiling and looking down at his hand on my waist.

“i’m jeremy , and you ?” the alcohol on his breath takes me back slightly , he bites his lip slightly , waiting for my response.

“not interested” i reply attempting to slide out of his grip . his grip tightens ever so slightly, pulling me back towards him . body’s get closer to us and i feel dizzy , my chest feeling heavier as i’m boxed in by sweaty strangers in the middle of this room .

i need matt .

his hand goes lower , turning me around , pressing us closer together , my back flat on his chest as his hand slowly caresses my side , slowly sliding over my curves as he sways our body’s .

i need matt .

i turn my body around to face jeremy or whatever his name was . attempting to keep as much space between us as possible but the people around us push us closer together . i look around frantically, attempting to find someone i know . no chris , no nick .

“yo let’s let go of her yeah?” i hear matt’s voice and my heart literally drops . relief washes over me and i search around me to attempt to find him . i can hear his voice , then jeremy turns his back towards me , seemingly talking to someone . shouting at someone .

in what felt like a second i’m being dragged forwards by my wrist , my body slamming into jeremy’s back. and being pulled through the crowd . i get a glimpse of the hand around my wrist , and see the familiar two rings i hate . ugly annoying things but god am i glad to see them .

“matt?” i shout over the music. still being pulled away through dancing people , shoulders barging into me , ducking under people’s flying limbs .

“matt!” i shout again, no answer .

“matthew!”

he turns around with a new found anger on his face , his eyebrows scrunched up as his nose flares with his rabid breaths ,chest heaving as he stops infront of me , making me fly into his body . he wraps an arm around my waist to hold me up and i push him off . his hand still wrapped around my wrist .

“get the fuck off me!” i pull my hand from his grasp and he watches it fall to my side .

“are you fucking serious?” he raises his voice at me . inching closer , his face full of confusion . “your mad at me?! grow up y/n” he looks over my shoulder and his face drops slightly before grabbing my hand and pulling me once more , towards the front door .

“matt get off- MATT . get away from me you fucking psycho!” i fight his grasp . he turns on his heels and gets closer to my face , enough to startle me to stop fighting him .

“i don’t give a fuck if u hate me , i will spend the rest of my life making sure your safe , now stop fucking fighting me and let me take you home.”

i attempt to fight him again but he just rags me along to the front porch , dropping my hand and walking down the steps towards the uber waiting on the driveway . he notices my absence from his side and turns away . finding me frozen on the porch , loud music blasting in my ears from the house . he says something to the driver and walks towards me , his hair blowing away from his face at the pace of his walk . he walks up the stairs and stops in front of me . his chest heaving . i can see the cogs turning in his brain , trying to plan how the fuck to get me in that car . his face is inches away from me , his rapid breaths fanning my face , moving strands of hair with each breath .

“why?” i break the silence. i’m not sure what i’m even asking but the past hour has been a series of confusing and frustrating events . he sighs at my words , relaxing his shoulders.

“why what?” he replies taking another half step forward.

“why do you care”

i’m met with silence. for the first time in our years of bickering , this one isn’t welcomed . for the first time i’m begging him to speak . his voice is the only thing i want to hear . i hate him , he hates me . the only attention he gives me is teasing me and annoying me so why now does he insist on making me second guess myself .

i hate him . i know this .

but why the fuck do i find myself staring at his lips.

“just get in the car y/n.”

——————

literally writing part three as we speak . this is a slow burn . don’t worry !!!!

taglist :

@mangosrar @querenciasturniolo @ermdontmindthisaccount @recklesssturniolo @tackycrown @udonotknowme @iheart2021chris @its-jennarose @oversturn @plasticferal @paper-crab @parkerssecrets @aliyahsbody @strniohoeee @daddyslilchickenfingers @freshlovehacker @flowerxbunnie @kvtie2 @kenzieiskoolaid @kvtie444 @lunarsturniolo @loveesiren @lustfulslxt @chrisenthusiast @cabincorematt @bluesturniolo333 @biimpanicking @nickenthusiast @mattslolita @mattsbratt @fredswh0re @playboycunt @lexisecretaccx @1201pm

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ok-boomerang · 6 months

Text

if those two don't kill each other, Sokka might lend a hand

a zutara drabble

HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS TO MY DEAREST @hneyteacup. I wrote a birthday drabble inspired by one of your faves, SPUFFY. I however have never seen Buffy and in fact I just found out the fate of Spuffy approximately 30 seconds ago lol, BUT STILL, this drabble is inspired by them, for you 💕 HBD!!!! ILY!

The others might buy Zuko’s little transformation, but not Katara.

She knows exactly how sympathetic he can make his sorry life seem, all in the pursuit of Fire Nation supremacy.

So that’s why she’s been interrogating Zuko in his room for the past 15 minutes. She’s made him promise he won’t fire bend at her, and she did not feel a tinge of regret when he frowned and said he would never, sounding almost hurt.

Even so, Katara stands at the ready in front of him, hands sheathed in water just in case Zuko decides to break her rule.

“So you’re telling me you saw the soldiers that were following us back in Fire Fountain City. And yet you can’t describe them?” she asks, voice dripping with disdain.

Zuko groans and rolls his eyes, almost as if this was nothing more than an annoying hassle for him rather than the serious interrogation it was. He waits a beat, staring angrily at the floor, before he lifts his head to meet her eyes.

“Well, they were human,” he says, voice annoyingly sweet. “Two legs. Two arms.”

Katara scowls.

“They were wearing helmets,” Zuko says in exasperation. “Am I supposed to be able to recognize soldiers by the way they walk?”

“Maybe!”

At this point, Sokka enters with a steaming cup of tea. He takes one look between the two—the scowl on the prince’s face and the murderous intent on Katara’s, and mutters, “Not sure you know what you’re doing, sis.”

At this, Katara transfers her glare to her brother, though he only rolls his eyes too.

Katara huffs and takes the tea that Sokka brought, silently dismissing him. Sokka sends what seems to be an apologetic look (traitor!) to Zuko before wordlessly exiting.

“It’s about time,” says Zuko when Katara hands him the mug of tea. “Hope he got it warm enough, since you’re forbidding me from bending.”

Katara ignores him. “How did you even get here?” she snaps, hoping that asking this question for the umpteenth time will expose how he’d been following them for weeks (which was likely!) or how he’d kidnapped some of their friends to get their location (even more likely!).

“I told you; I stole a war balloon and followed you from Caldera.” He takes a sip of his tea and sighs. “I’m done. Let me talk to Aang.”

“Not yet! I’m not done!”

Zuko purses his lips but doesn’t argue any longer.

“How did you break into the North Pole?” Katara finally asks.

Really? Zuko’s expression seems to ask.

For some reason, he smirks at her. “Hmm, I’m not sure.”

“Tell me.”

“I’m trying to remember,” he says, putting down his tea to make a show of tapping his chin. “It was very traumatic.”

“How long are you going to pull this crap?”

“How long are you going to keep me prisoner in my own room?”

Katara sniffs. “I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me something worthwhile.” Until he proves to her that allowing him to stay here will have some sort of benefit.

“Fine,” Zuko says, lying back and stretching out on his bed. One arm holds his head up as he watches Katara over his nose. “We can stay here all day and all night, with you—what did you call it?—interrogating me.” He smirks again, the crooked expression on his face downright infuriating.

Katara abruptly changes tactics, crossing her arms and stepping toward him, the water falling from her hands in large splashes that she ignores. “You know what, I don’t think you want me to leave you alone,” she says slowly, her lip curling in satisfaction. “I’m the only one who will talk to you, anyway.”

Zuko’s smirk falls, and Katara feels a little flame of triumph in her chest roar to life.

“Right, I don’t want you to leave me alone,” he parrots, the bite back in his voice. “I definitely want to be constantly reminded how much you hate me.”

Katara does not feel another twinge of regret. She does not push anything away.

Instead, she falls to her knees with a mocking gasp.

“Does his highness require better accommodations?” she says, her voice warbling. “Better amenities?”

“Katara—” Zuko says, unamused.

“An innocent victim to burn, perhaps?”

“Katara, please—” Zuko says, voice more serious. But she keeps going.

“Do you require a maiden before you cooperate?” she taunts, crawling toward him and exposing her neck. “What about me? Will I do?”

At this point, Zuko is exhaling smoke, but he’s not bending. She wonders how far she can goad him. She crawls closer until she’s at the edge of his bed and mockingly reaching toward him.

“Please, your highness, what must we do to please you?!” she all but shrieks, vaguely feeling like she would make a great actress as Zuko slowly shakes his head, as if to say What did I do to deserve this?

Well, she can think of a lot of things!

Just when she thinks of naming all those things to Zuko, she suddenly hears the swish of a cloak behind her and the sound of wood hitting the ground. Her and Zuko both turn toward the noise, to see Aang, a confused smile on his face, his ears a little pink, and his glider in his hand.

“Um—Katara—I think I’ll talk to Zuko now,” says Aang slowly, eying her strangely. She’s about to ask what’s up with him before she realizes her arms are sprawled beseechingly toward Zuko, her body half on his bed and half on the ground.

“Right, yes!” she says, getting up daintily and wiping her tunic with her hands as if what she’d been doing was perfectly normal. “I’ll just be—”

Inexplicably, she looks back to Zuko, who is also watching her, bemused.

“Bye!” she squeaks to the room with a hurried wave.

She’s talking to Aang, of course. Not Zuko.

Definitely not Zuko.

#zutara #zuko x katara #zutara fanfiction #drabble #bday drabble #for ej #many thanks to susiesundrop for helping me with the Spuffy Dynamic (tm)

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wolfavens · 11 months

Text

ghost car of barna road

track 3 - liberty belle 1/2

my manager greeted me in irish.

i blinked at the screen in mute panic. i couldn’t remember how to reply. words and languages collided in my brain. it was a car crash, baby, and in the end all that came out of my mouth was a prolonged aaah with no end in sight. a perfect visual representation would be a multilanguage tsunami, pouring out of my ears and pooling around my slippers on the dusty rug of my childhood bedroom.

i used to write those words down into a black notebook, watching you mock me from that dusty rug. you and your smug gaeltacht born grin. who would’ve thought i will forget them all by the time i’m 30.

“how did the move go?”

move. to galway. my hometown. i found my voice again and rushed out: “oh yeah! the move went okay. got here late last night. drive was smooth. not many cars around after midnight.”

“hehe, don’t get used to it. it’s a totally different story after 8am.”

we chatted for a while, arranging to meet in dublin next month when i was all settled in. won’t take long. all i needed was to get a flat, a car - did i need help with the flat? there are probably relocation programmes for employees available. no. i think i got it. did i tho?

we finished the call twenty minutes later. the fact i managed to scrape by enough words to at least tell him goodbye in irish seemed to cheer him up a bit.

i finished up some minor work tasks, sipping at the remainder of my mother’s disgusting herbal tea and took a short break to open the dusty unused storage areas of my childhood bedroom. i needed to clean up the old junk before moving in the new junk. i had to give one thing to my mother; she did an excellent job of preserving this place. if ever i managed to do something worthwhile with my life she could start charging fucking entry for this museum of fiadh kavanagh.

shaking my head i started pulling out old clothes and creating a pile on the floor. if she believed i still fit into these jeans i should be worried about early onset neurodegenerative diseases.

i was done with the columns and moving on to the hangers by the time she stuck her head in and quirked her dark eyebrows at me. “need any help?”

“mom, why the fuck did you keep all this?” i asked, showcasing fist-full of short gothic dresses. “aren’t you worried about clothes moths?”

ignoring my point she sat down on the bed, smiling. “oh, i though you might still like to keep some of it. it’s not like we need extra storage.”

“mom, look at me!” i threw another armful onto the pile, lifting my arms to indicate my age ravaged body. “how could i possibly fit into size four?! some of these are from the children’s section!”

“you look like a string, you could easily fit. it’s the cigarettes. they are not good for ya.”

i rolled my eyes. “i’m not even fucki…”

the feel of a familiar soft fabric beneath my fingertips made me stop midsentence. i pulled it out into the light with shaking fingers, heart racing against my ribcage. it looked huge in my palms. the faded graphics were barely visible in the shadowy light of my room. if you tried hard enough you could just barely make out the name of the band. distantly i heard my mom echo my name but i was stuck in the past, standing in the cold autumn rain by the open driver’s side window of your car.

“ooooh, i remember this one,” my mother said with a nostalgic smile.

i made a small sound at the back of my throat.

“it’s the donovan boy’s, isn’t it? i remember teasing him about it. i told him: young man, this is not a free laundry i run here! you know what he said to me?”

i nodded, whispering, “it’s not my fault yer daughter is a stinkin’ thief.”

she laughed. “little bastard. he was the worst influence on you. funny how he turned out. would never expect a son of deirdre donovan to make something of himself. i guess we owe it all to the wife. she…”

my body snapped back to action. i was moving away before she could say her name. putting the sweater on the bed next to her, i brushed my hands against my sweatpants and mumbled: “right, look we need to get rid of all this before i can unpack. do you know someone with skinny teenage children? ideally with a questionable fashion sense?”

“we can drive to the clothes recycling point.”

“grand! let’s do that after work.” i told her, kicking my way through the discarted clothes toward the closet and dumping whatever was left on top of the rest. “i need to get back to work now. i have a meeting in 20.”

“oh, ok. sorry.” she chuckled, standing up. “i will bring some bags to put all of this in.” she reached for the sweater on her way out and i jumped in to block her path on impulse.

“uh… where are you taking that?”

she blinked up at me, brown eyes surprised. “downstairs. i figured i could return it to the rightful owner rather than donate it to charity. although,” she giggled, pulling it apart for scale, “i doubt it will still fit him.”

she was gone before i could open my mouth, taking the sweater with her. my clenched fists unclenched with effort as i pushed the door closed and leaned my back against it. i was breathing too hard. the way you handed me that sweater through the driver’s side window on that rainy, a blast from the past; a ghostly memory. just enough to make me shudder.

#simblr #ts4 story #s:gcbr #oc:ann marie #oc:fiadh #it's adorable how gorgeous fawn believes #she looks old and ugly #hell i wish i looked like fawn #also join me in appreciating stolen garments #the best possible sweater is one you don't own #amen

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iwriteloveletters · 6 months

Text

Rosemary (Cannibal Eren x Reader)

Hiiii!!! Cherub again, this was just a silly one shot I have though of and Eren brainrot had hit me again recently and I love writing about him, this is ofc Out Of Character so super sorry about this!! I hope if you stumble accross my inconsistently written one shot you enjoy it.

TW - BLOOD, KIDNAPPING, OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, DRUGGING, MURDER, CANNIBALISM, !!!!NOT PROOF READ!!!!

WORDS - 3,453

He saw you in everything. In the air he breathed, the water he drank, even in the God he prayed to. You were the only human he saw God in.

Most importantly, he saw you in the people he ate.

Several people who matched your exact description were found with limbs missing, it appeared that they had bled out to death after having their limbs torn off brutally.

Was it wrong of you to assume that this was targeted towards you? Many individuals around your age and are in similar professions were being brutally murdered horribly and didn't receive any justice. It’s impossible to catch the murderer.

You try not to let it get to your head but your family and peers have also caught on to this resemblance, no one lets you hear the end of it. Your mother wants your location, your best friend wants you to text them when you get home safe or when you go to work, all eyes are on you and you are sick of it.

At the office you worked at it was somewhat normal about your resemblance to the recent victims, a lot of them don’t know you personally for them to want to intrude on your privacy. You coming to work was simply enough to let them know you weren’t next in this case.

Today was normal as usual, you started off with today's workload and you’re finally on your fifteen minute break.

“Oh hey (Y/N)!” One of your coworkers greeted you. It was Eren Jaeger, he’s been here longer than you and trained you actually when you started here a year ago.

“Good morning Eren.” You sighed as you took a seat in the breakroom.

He scanned your face for a moment, “are you feeling alright?”

You didn’t realize you looked tired or bad overall, maybe you’re coming down with a cold?

“Uhh, yeah? I didn’t think I looked bad today.” You shyly chuckled.

“You sure? I know it must be stressful seeing the recent news about that serial killer.” You didn’t think about it much but it was half true, all eyes were on you and you had your own fears of being next. You’re more scared than anyone around you right now because it feels like any moment now you’ll be caught in a vulnerable position no matter how hard the people that loved you tried to prevent what felt like the inevitable.

“Well… it is stressful. But I know you really don’t know me so I won’t talk your ears off on your break!” You tried to walk out of the break room till he stopped you.

“How about I take you out for a few drinks? Think of it as a therapy session at a bar!” He laughed to himself.

That didn’t sound so bad actually, you thought to yourself.

You’d have an outside perspective on the entire situation and might even receive worthwhile advice.

“Perfect! I’ll take you today afterwork!” He said before you can even respond.

“Alright!” You said without giving it any other thought.

He walked off and you had eleven minutes left to yourself.

The end of your workday eventually rolled around and you see Eren waiting in the lobby, he truly meant what he said about getting drinks after work today. That made you nervous.

You weren’t attracted to him or at least you thought so, but it felt nice seeing a guy around your age and outside of your close friend group wanting to see you and listen to you, that rarely came by. He might be a good guy.

“Are you ready? I’m getting a taxi and I know you don’t drive.”

You nodded your head as you followed him outside.

As you both walked towards the taxi he opened the door for you, he truly was a gentleman.

You guys then sat in silence while on your way to the bar he let you choose, you chose something not too far away from your home so you can still be safe and not spend an arm and a leg on the taxi home.

Eren of course opened the door for you on the way out and even held his hand out for you to grab as you exited the taxi.

“Can’t wait to see what my client needs to talk about today.” He teased as you both went to find good or decent seats.

You both ordered your drinks and continued sitting in silence. You haven’t said a word since you got in the taxi.

“A lot is going on huh?”

“You could say that,”

“Well go ahead, tell me. I’m not your peer with seniority right now, I’m some guy you’re getting a drink with and telling me your business.

“It’s a lot.” You said, you’re trying to warn him or figure out if he’s joking. Any of those answers works right now.

He waved his hand signaling that he wants to listen to his coworker talk about their weird serial killer fear.

“Ever since that serial killer has been going around letting all those people bleed out to death I’ve been stressed, I fit the description of the people murdered and my family and friends won’t let me forget about it. Every day it feels like more and more precautions set up by them, it feels like they’re expecting me to be murdered. Any day now should be my time, they think! And they want to make sure I know that too. I’m scared Eren. I don't want that to happen.” Your voice cracked.

You’re in a bar talking about your fear of being brutally murdered to your coworker and your voice cracks because you’re on the verge of tears.

He rested on your hand on your shoulder, “hey it’s okay, I know it's scary but I’m sure you won’t be next.”

“How would my family know though?”

He hummed while he thought about his answer to that. You wish there was an easy solution for all of this, you really wish that this uncaught serial killer never started their pattern of murders. Life wouldn’t be so full of fear mongering people.

“Show them you aren’t scared, stop sharing, stop letting them track you. You’re not scared anymore, you don’t wanna be scared right (Y/N)?” He broke your train of thought with the most truthful response you ever heard.

He looked at you with a passion you never thought you’d see from someone so distant such as your coworker. It was beautiful to you.

“You can’t let fear take control over you, not even people's fears. You’d spend the day you do die in fear, don’t let that be your major regret. Start off by turning off your location.” He said.

You did as he said and turned off your location and got rid of your Life-360. Your best friend Sasha and your parents no longer have access to it.

“Of course I’ll let them know that I don’t want to share my location with them and why.” You smiled, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. You were freeing yourself from other people's fears.

“Anything else you feel like you need to do?”

“No I don’t think so!” You said.

This was a great start to a possible friendship.

By this point you both were on your second drink and began to feel tired. You and Eren agreed on one last drink however to end a wonderful night.

You then excused yourself to the bathroom while your drink was being made. ‘He was such a great guy’, you thought to yourself. You never expected him to be so kind especially during your first after work outing. You really want to pursue him now, in which way is what you didn’t have an answer to yet.

As you stepped forward towards your bar stools your drinks were being placed by the bartender, it was perfect timing. Soon you’d be in bed starting a new day that wasn’t plagued by fear.

“Welcome back.” He smiled as he greeted you back.

You smiled as you took a sip of your drink, then another, and another. You felt great, you were relaxed for the first time in a while. You were understood and validated.

Eren began sharing things about his personal life as well by this point and suddenly you felt drowsy, you couldn’t comprehend Eren well while he spoke and he seemed to have caught on and out an arm around you.

The last thing you heard was Eren saying that you were safe in his care and he will get you home safe. It was dark now.

You woke up and you felt cold, and as you opened your eyes it was still dark.

This didn’t feel like home at all, you were on the hard ground instead of your bed, it didn’t smell like your favorite scented candle anymore. It smelled awful actually.

You were not home.

“Eren?” You called out. You were scared. Maybe something happened to you both.

You saw the glow of a hallway light fill up a small space in the room you were in, you saw a silhouette.

“(Y/N)?” Eren said. He was the man standing over you. He really tricked you? He was so kind and genuine, how could he do this to you?

“Eren, what’s going on I’m scared.” You shook in your spot.

He moved closer to you, you cowered closer into the corner of the room, maybe he’ll back off eventually.

He brought out his hand the same exact way he did in the taxi, you feel so stupid. You even turned off your location and told them they had nothing to worry about. You were stupid and you felt like you were going to get seriously hurt.

“Come with me, angel.” He spoke in the same calm tone as earlier when you were getting worked up about your fears and stress.

You had no choice but to take his untrustworthy hand and follow him wherever he took you, maybe he’ll set you free with minimal harm.

As he helped you up he guided you out the room into what appeared to be his house, it was clean and simply decorated. You both eventually found yourselves in front of a dark wooden door. It looked different from the rest of the house, this door seemed old and had scratched on it.

“Are you going to fucking torture me or something?” Your voice trembled.

He let out a huge laugh, as if you said something so shocking and unbelievable. It felt like him kidnapping you and leading you to this door was the only thing on his list tonight.

“Why would I do that? I just got you here.” He said as his laugh finally died down.

He finally opened the door and the smell that hit you was putrid, you couldn’t even describe what it smelled like.

He shoved you into the doorway first, and you were met with stairs that led into complete darkness. He pushed you further so you had to take a step down in order to not fall down a flight of steps. The smell kept getting stronger and stronger the more you went down with him.

“You smell that?” He said as he was reaching for a light.

“Mhm.” You said while nodding your head, if you said anything else or even thought about the smell a bit more you would have thrown up.

“I can’t wait for you to see this angel.” He finally turned on the light. It was dim in the room now but you saw exactly what he wanted you to see.

The sight that was before you was terrible. There were limbs everywhere, old blood stains on the ground and walls, this was going to haunt you for the rest of your life. That was if Eren let you live long enough to be haunted by this.

He walked over to a severed hand and licked it slowly, as though he was savoring it. His eyes were closed as he enjoyed the taste of old blood that has been sitting in his basement for an unknown amount of time.

“This is new, don't worry. I won’t get sick, I have to stay healthy for you.” He locked eyes with you. Dropping the now clean hand back onto the floor.

“You’re… you’re not… the murderer right?” You said, you began to slowly turn around to try and make your escape, the door that leads back upstairs was still open.

Before you could make a run for it, he caught on fast and grabbed your hair by its roots, your scalp beginning to sting and your heart beating so fast you swear he could hear it with you.

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” he cooed, “I did all this for you.”

You let out a grunt in response, you’re thinking and smelling too much at once. You wanted to pass out and hope this was all a nightmare but your body knew this was reality, your body wanted to run.

He turned your head back around to face the gruesome scene once again, “you’re right, I am that person. But you know, I did do all this for you.”

“What the Hell are you talking about?!” You let out a cry.

“(Y/N),” He sighed, “I’ve been in love with you for months now. You seemed so unobtainable that I had to relieve my stress of not having you somehow! But then with some help I have you all to myself.”

You felt so sick, everyone was right. You were next and he made you feel like everyone in your life was crazy for thinking that. It was only a matter of time before he licked the blood off your hands next.

“You could’ve asked me out normally!” You said.

“Were you attracted to me?”

You weren’t, but it wasn’t because he was ugly; he wasn’t. But he never caught your eye, until he did at the bar and then betrayed your trust in less than five hours.

“No.” You gave in, you don’t understand or respect his actions but you both knew you weren’t attracted to him. He was simply a coworker.

“I started with having sex with people that looked similar to you, but it wasn’t enough. I got so angry that they weren’t you and were never going to be you, so I started killing them. Then that wasn’t enough by the third person I started eating them.” He said. He frowned for a moment but then grinned, what else could be going on in his head?

“But I don’t have to do that anymore.” He said while guiding you back up stairs.

You had no choice but to follow him back up, at least you didn’t have to smell the indescribable rot in his basement anymore. Fear of what was going to happen to you next though was still there, your life was in his hands and there was no way you could fight against him. Not right now.

“I finally have you, isn’t that great?” He sounded so proud of murdering people and kidnapping you on top of that.

“No.” You said, you weren’t going to let him corner you like this, you wanted to be free. Nothing about this was great.

“What?” His voice cracked, he was now trying to hold back tears.

“Nothing about this was great for ANYONE.” You shouted. You turned to face him and his once bright green eyes were dull and empty. It felt like you were staring into the nothingness of space. But you didn’t care, he ate people and kidnapped you. He didn’t deserve sympathy.

“No but I love you, I love you so much you wouldn’t let me have you. This was my outlet (Y/N).” He trembled. He hated rejection more than anything. He then grabbed your arms and began to shake you aggressively, “You don’t get to say what isn’t good, do you understand that?”

You tried to push him off you but he was much stronger than you right now, you could feel the bruises forming on your arms. He was known to have a short temper but you didn’t expect to be the cause of him snapping right now. You knew fighting back was going to make things a lot more difficult for you so you simply stood there helplessly as he shook you like you were a doll.

He continued to shout about how his one sided love for you wasn’t fair and that he wasn’t having fun either.

But why would he continue to eat these people that slightly resemble you? To you he enjoyed this more than anything, to you he enjoyed the chase and the fighting the victims put him through.

He jolted you back to your disgusting reality after a long shouting session.

“Do you understand?”

You nodded as fast as you could, you wanted him to stop shouting and shaking you once and for all. You wanted just a bit of human decency, the decency expected from a coworker.

He walked you to a chair, the chair was light brown leather and had thick arm rests, these were chairs you’d find in hospitals. There were clear signs of old blood alongside scratches. This had to have been used on his victims. Perhaps he simply wanted to eat and murder you? He motioned you to sit and before you could begin to take a seat he forced you into the big old chair.

He crouched as he began to tie your wrists against the arm rests and your legs together to ensure you won’t try to escape.

“I won’t be rough, I promise.” He said while focused on the intricate knots he was tying.

You sat there carefully, the more you sat still there was less of a chance for him to react negatively towards you. But he barely looked at you while he was tying you to the chair.

There was a slight burning sensation but nothing that would send you into hysterics luckily. You simply had to stay still for Eren.

“There!” He exclaimed he was more than happy to be finally done with tying, the texture of the rope also made his fingertips burn too.

He took notice of your red wrists from the friction of rope and skin and kissed your wrists lightly.

His lips were soft and warm, it made him feel more human than he actually was. This man was the Devil to you however, and no amount of kisses will solve that.

“I tried real hard to make sure this didn’t hurt, you know angel?” He said, he was still crouched on the ground, right now he was below you. You knew who had the power here though.

“I practiced.” He said while still leaving small warm kisses on your irritated wrists. It felt like he wanted you to praise him for his ‘hard’ work.

“Good job, Eren.” You tried to sound happy for him but the only tone that you had was an exhausted tone. You wanted to die already.

Despite the exhausted tone you kept with him, his green eyes lit up at you. He looked like he received the highest honor; your praise.

“Thank you (Y/N).” He said, “But no matter how many times I practice with this one thing I could never make it painless.” the light in his eyes died down and he pulled a hunting knife from his pocket.

Your heart rate skyrocketed now, you thought maybe a heart attack would occur and kill you before Eren did but all it did was beat in your chest as well as inside your ears.

“Don’t be scared please.” He cooed, he spoke to you the way you’d speak to a hurt puppy.

He pressed the knife against your skin, with a long drag across your skin red beads followed. Then it became tears of blood leaking out of you.

He had such a hungry look in his eyes it disgusted you. He then pressed his lips and you felt his tongue follow the cut he left behind.

“Mmm… you taste so so good, better than I’d ever imagined.”

You shuddered, everything felt too much for you. The feeling of his mouth, the sting of the cut, the sting of his tongue against said cut. It all hurt and scared you all at once.

He began to suck on the wound for a little while longer before he lifted his head up.

“I knew you were the one for me.”

Based on his statement you knew this wasn’t over for you yet.

#attack on titan #eren x reader #eren yeager #yandere eren x reader #yandere #tw yandere #self insert #self insert x canon #self shipping #cannibalposting #cannibalistic

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pseudowho · 2 months

Note

Hello Haitch!! Hope you doing well 💞💞💞

First off, I wanted to say that I LOVED your analysis on Nanami’s dislike for working but also still doing overtime. Not only did it just make sense, it also felt so real and relatable to me. I’m not the type of person to procrastinate. My checklist is there so I can get my work done and when I’m finally free of responsibilities, I can actually enjoy my break. But sadly work for now is unending, and I found my past self pulling a Nanami Kento staying up till who-knows-how-late just to finish… only this week’s assignments when there will be more next week?? at the cost of my energy, mental health, back pain??

And if I remember correctly, there was this one post you made about why you love Nanami: the rage, the fiery, passionate anger! *chef’s kiss.* The part where I fell for Nanami (I fell hard) was that he was able to, like you said, redirect it to a purpose of altruism. Somehow, Nanami makes some good out of it in a merciless, parasitical (as Mr. Haitch said) system. It’s not revolutionary systemic change, but it is certainly enough to have an impact on the people he cares about. I think that’s the perfect amount for Nanami. That just makes him even more human and precious to me 🥺

I also want to bring up the things that Nanami does for himself too. Like what we talked about earlier, he found value in helping others not just for them but also for himself! Also, I think he definitely upped his self-care game, and we do love a man who can take care of himself. Probably the most obvious indication of this is how he set clear work-life boundaries in his schedule. He will not work past 6:00 unless he has to. This would probably allow him to enjoy the rest of his evening off, as he should. It is even more pronounced how being a jujutsu sorcerer means you don’t know when your time might end. I’m just glad that Nanami was able to at least have the time to read that one book in a peaceful cafe we saw in the first season opening. I also think that the same concept applies in real life too. We deserve to enjoy the limited time we have on earth because even if we are working for the possible future of no more work, it is not certain that we’ll even make it.

Yaga said something to Yuuji when he first got accepted to Jujutsu High. Sorcerers will die regretting something in their life. That just stuck with me for throughout the entire show. Nanami’s scene emphasized his regrets of not being able to go to Malaysia where he can finally live a simple, unburdened life. I never really cried hard for a show or a movie, until that scene… Yeah, so I had to take the following day off and go take a nap on the beach just lying in the sun just thinking about Nanami…

———- (covering two asks in one) ———-

May I possibly convince you that perhaps some classical music is worthwhile? The ones that make me swoon and melt and sigh while daydreaming. Not bach, not mozart, not beethoven…

But specifically the romantic era. And even in there you have to do a bit more digging.

Just the first minute and if you like it, then that’s awesome! if not, that’s cool too!

- Rachmaninoff’s symphony no. 2, movement 3 (Adagio)

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=QNRxHyZDU-Q&pp=ygUecmFjaG1hbmlub2ZmIHN5bXBob255IDIgYWRhZ2lv

*sighs dreamily because yes.* I think a large majority of classical music is hard to enjoy for me too. It will either make me fall asleep or it is super busy and complicated, not good to listen to while doing work… but there are certain pieces that I’ll just always go back to.

Moving on, it makes me wonder… what types of music do you listen to? Opinions on the JJK opening and ending songs? What type of music wouldn Nanami listen to? Did you know Nanami has a theme song??

Ah, I just wanted to say that you’re literally the reason why I downloaded tumblr just to like all your posts and follow you. It’s the first fandom I’ve ever interacted with, and I never could’ve imagined how exciting and insightful it could be to be a part of it 💗💗💗

I honestly love your addition to this analysis! I agree with all of it.

r.e. the self care, I think it adds an extra layer of tragedy to his life; as soon as he began to open himself up to experiencing joy, and permitting himself to be happy before this self-imposed 'retirement' age, he died before getting into his stride.

See, with Nanami's MalaysiaPlan™️, I view it as largely metaphorical over totally literal. I think he fundamentally was overworked, stressed and overpressured, and 'Malaysia' simply meant 'running away from it all'. I think that if he hadn't died, and his self-care had continued to gain trajectory as Kento found a way to ensure a good work-life balance, I think 'Malaysia' may well have slipped away; he would no longer need to run away, in order to find peace and enjoyment in life. Therefore, dying before 'Malaysia' simply meant he died before achieving his true goal; to be content in life. Which is desperately fucking sad. A truly, miserably, horribly sad end for a wonderfully three-dimensional character.

In the AU that is. In the Haitchverse, he's alive, and coming home to his loving wife, and teaching Yuuji how to be a man.

I will always give more music a go. Ultimately, I've recognised that I'm quite a Maximalist with decor and music; more is better. I'm into metal with a lot going on, any music which has extensive layers, I tend to go for your more passionate, angsty songs as well. This is where classical loses me; despite being ostensibly a work of art, which I can appreciate...it's just instrumental. It leaves me lacking. It's a meal with no main course. I get to the end and I'm still hungry.

I like Bad Omens, Babymetal, lots of J-rock, K-pop, lots of other pieces from various metal artists. Bigger is better for me, r.e. music, unless it's an exquisitely crafted understated piece in a minor key, that hits every fine note with devastating melancholy accuracy.

I did know Nanami has a theme song! The thing that makes me laugh hardest about it, is that I think he'd find his theme song annoying.

Now I genuinely do HC Kento as a metal enthusiast, and really not in a self-project-y way. Hear me out.

Metal contains most of the truest, rawest proclamations of the world's ills of any other music genre, in my opinion. Behind the roaring line beautiful lyrics speaking out against the tortured of the system, and the woes of life. Listening to it is surprisingly upbeat; it's like being seen for feeling the world is a twisted place.

I tend to find Metal attracts a lot of quietly sensitive men, who are outwardly stoic but internally a maelstrom. With the very classic 'emo' haircut as a teenager, that was very much the remit of the emo/metal kids, I think it suits him well.

The Eve's second JJK opening is my favourite. Honestly one of my favourite of all time. Lost in Paradise is my favourite end theme.

Last but not least: I truly cannot believe you downloaded Tumblr just to like my stuff. I do not deserve such a beautifully targeted compliment. You're a sweetheart. Genuinely. Thank you.

Love,

-- Haitch xxx

#Haitch #pseudowho answers you #pseudowho

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hebuiltfive · 6 months

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The Mouse

This has been sitting in my drafts since last October. I never got around to finishing and posting it. Until today. It's still a little messy but I'm throwing it out there regardless.

Prompted by this post here.

Gordon faces his worst adversary yet!

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

“Penny! Help!”

Gordon’s shrills echoed throughout the house.

At first, Penelope had thought the worst; maybe he’d come across an intruder and ended up in an unfortunate situation, or that he’d injured himself trying to slide down the bannisters to one of the many staircases in her manor… again. Both options seemed plausible and neither filled her with much hope.

With those panicked thoughts she rushed out of the library and followed Gordon’s constant calls for help. Eventually she found him.

In the pantry.

On an old wooden chair.

With a broom in his hands.

“Gordon, what on earth—?”

“Be careful! It’s just gone under that cabinet there and it… There it is!”

His yell made Penny jump out of her skin.

Her eyes followed Gordon’s pointing finger until she came upon the little grey mouse, scurrying across the floor.

“Gordon.” Penelope breathed a sigh of relief, her attention back on the blonde on the chair. “I thought something terrible had happened to you. Don’t scare me like that again unless—”

“What do you mean?” His voice was a higher pitch than normal, fear laced every word he shrieked. “Something terrible did happen! I was attacked!”

“By a mouse?”

“Yes!”

Penny’s features hardened into a worried frown. “Did it bite you?”

“… No.”

Another fond, if exasperated, sigh. “Then you were hardly attacked, Gordon.”

“I thought you were rich, Pen.” He grumbled. “If you’re rich, why do you have mice scurrying around the place. Ah!”

His broom rose as the mouse darted around the legs of the chair.

“Because,” Penelope began to explain, taking the broom from Gordon and using it to hurry the mouse along and out of sight. “Old houses like these are prone to the little creatures. It’s just how it is. It will move on when it realises there’s no food for it here, which reminds me I must inform Parker so he can check the other larders and— Oh, Gordon, do get down from there before you fall and break your neck!”

Penelope stood the broom up against one of the pantry’s cupboards and offered her hand out to assist Gordon off the chair. He still seemed tense and Penelope tried not to chuckle.

“Are you sure it’s gone?”

“Quite sure, Gordon.”

His hand squeezed hers gently as he stepped onto the floor. He shivered. “Good.”

“What were you doing in here anyway?”

Gordon had one last quick look into the pantry as they exited. Satisfied he was now safe from the furry little invader, he relaxed and slung his arm over Penelope’s shoulder. “Duh, finding snacks!”

“We just had breakfast—”

“That did not count as breakfast. Geez, Pen, I know you were entertaining some uppity posh people,” his attempt at an old English accent had Penelope yet again biting back a chuckle, “but there was hardly anything on those plates! A guy’s got to eat.”

“So you thought you’d help yourself to the pantry food?”

“I thought there’d be something worthwhile in there, and I would have got away with it if it wasn’t for that dastardly rat!”

“Mouse, Gordon. It was only a mouse.”

“I could have died!”

“That’s a little overdramatic, don’t you think?”

Gordon shook his head adamantly. “Nu-uh. I could have died!”

“I’ll be sure to tell Virgil all about it.” With a gentle pat on his back, Penelope smiled a conspirator’s smile.

To which Gordon gasped, betrayed. “Don’t you dare!”

“If you ‘almost died’ I should think they’d want to know about it.”

“Do not tell Virgil…”

“I could tell John? He’d probably be better. Yes, John would be able to file it away in the systems.”

“Penny…”

“It might be important to keep on file. Heaven knows I won’t always be there to rescue you from the menaces and—!”

The rest of her playful teasing was cut off when Gordon halted midway down the hallway, pulled Penelope into him and caught her lips with his. It was a surprising move, yet one she found she’d been hopefully anticipating.

With his palms resting on her cheeks, Gordon eyes met hers when he pulled back. They were pleading. “How about we just keep it a little secret between the two of us?”

Penelope purposefully took her time to answer. His thumb swept across her cheek as he waited, surprisingly patiently.

In the end, she smiled softly. “Of course it can stay our secret.”

Gordon appeared pleased to hear her agreement.

“But, if you try to steal from my pantry again, Gordon Tracy,” Penelope continued, “I may be inclined to inform someone.”

His relief fell from his features. He couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. He arched a brow. “What if I was stealing something to bring to you?”

“Then that’s hardly stealing.”

“Noted.”

“Gordon—”

“No more talking.” He placed a finger on her lips. “I almost died and my life flashed before my eyes. so, if it’s alright with you, m’lady, I’d like to spend the rest of the morning with my favourite person.”

“I’ll be sure to fetch Sherbet for you right away.” Penelope joked once his finger released her lips.

Gordon chuckled. “You’re killing me here, Pen.”

“Funny, I thought that was the mouse…”

Their lips clashed again, effectively ending any further conversation for the foreseeable future.

#thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds are go #thunderfam #prompt fill #lady penelope #gordon tracy #penink #five fics #fic: the mouse

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noblesandsstories · 29 days

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Pale Pastels: A Crypt to Creep In

Astarion x Original Fem!Tav

->Hijinks ensue, mentions of traps, violence against skeletons, Fleur stabs herself, she's doing her best guys, Astarion's only been here a few minutes and he's fed up, oh hey there's plot guys! (At least in spirit), we're starting the slow burn here, kinda.

Border by: @adornedwithlight

AN: Calliope herself spoke through me, this had around 200 words when I started and this baby is at around 1,600. Hope y'all enjoy, starting to set up pieces of Fleur's stat block and a bit of her and Astarion's dynamic. Oh and I've never really wrote combat before, hope it wasn't too much of a pain to read. Bon appetite.

This temple was a great idea, decent loot, especially looting the bandits camp after Fleur sprinted up to them, frantically going on and on about mindflayers eating people. They didn’t stick around long after that, and it took the trio left hiding in the bushes a lot to not burst out into laughter at her performance of a woman who witnessed untold horrors.

Overall a rather good experience.

The group had found a book that had some kind of magical seal on it. Gale was fascinated with it, trying to break the spell desperately. Astarion only rolled his eyes.

We could be here a while, he thought. He slipped out of the room, hoping to find some kind of loot, or at least something to pick at while he was bored.

What he did find was a room full of tombs, with more traps than he’d seen in a long time.

Must be something very worthwhile here, better get to work. The elf pulled out his tools and carefully stepped over to the closest sarcophagus and began picking at the lock. Just as he opened it he turned his head to check over the room…

Just in time to see Fleur about to step on a pressure plate.

“DON’T.”

She froze, looking at him with wide eyes, foot suspended in the air.

“Can’t you see there’s traps everywhere?” He hissed.

To her credit, she did look like she was carefully observing when she double checked the room, but when she turned back to him, her face held a sheepish smile.

“No,” she said apologetically.

Astarion sighed. “Why are you even in here?”

“Same as you I recon. Watching Gale try to open a book that doesn’t want to be opened is extremely boring. Figured you’d at least be entertaining to stand next to.”

Astarion really didn’t want the company. But he knew he needed to start playing his cards carefully, lest he wanted to end up in dire straits. For now, playing nice with the candied bard would probably be a benefit.

“Fine, but take a step back and let me guide you over. There’s not many floor traps, but I can bet that they’re all synced up to one another.”

She dutifully obeyed, and he made his way over carefully.

“Ok, now watch my feet.” He over dramatized his steps, going slowly, and one by one, but in the interest of not learning what these traps do, he’d greatly look as foolish as he’d need to. Fleur diligently followed his movements, eyes analyzing every slight angle, until he was certain she was far enough from the main plates to do much harm.

“Now, sit tight and don’t do something stupid, darling,” he drawled in his usual flirty tone.

Fleur just gave a bright smile, “I’ll do my best.”

Astarion turned back to the sarcophagus, poking his head in, finally. A few pieces of gold. Not bad. He moved on to the next one. He heard the light footsteps as he knelt for the next one.

They made their way through the room, coffin by coffin, even found a chest with some basic loot, Astarion dutifully working on the locks, Fleur quietly observing. Honestly, Astarion found it rather nice.

Until Gale and Shadowheart walked in.

“We figured the book out!” Gale exclaimed. Astarion thought he looked like a dog trying to impress it’s master, poor bastard.

“Don’t walk in!” Fleur called out. “This place is trapped up.”

Shadowheart just cocked her head. “Yes, it’s very obvious there are traps here. Thanks for the warning.”

Fleur only looked a little bashful when she replied, “We’re almost done here. Go on and we’ll catch up!”

The two moved on and Astarion quickly picked the last lock. He fished out the last of the loot (a few pieces of gold and a healing potion), and stood.

“Now to get you and I out of this room safely, my dear,” he crooned.

“Do you mind if I do something first? Promise won’t be too bad,” she asked.

“Of course, as long as you don’t stab me,” he gave a careless laugh. She didn’t seem like the type to do something, right?

She stepped up and straightened his collar, fidgeting with it for a second, before giving a nod.

“That should work for now. At least you can pretend like it’s a weirdly placed mole.”

If Astarion’s heart could stop, it would have then.

She knew she knew she knew she-

“We do need to find a higher collar if we don’t want someone stabbing before asking,” she looked up to him with a beaming smile. “Now let’s get going. Don’t want them thinking we’re going to elope. You might have to show the way out though. I still don’t see those traps.”

She didn’t care. Or she was behaving like she didn’t care. Astarion couldn’t follow.

And it quickly left his line of concerns when he noticed Fleur almost step on a trap, again.

“WAIT-”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They met back up and found a more open room, that they began to move through, spreading out slightly. Astarion did his best to follow Fleur’s every move, but not to keep her from setting off traps and getting them all blown to Avernus. But to follow her eyes.

Eyes that couldn’t see a pressure plate that was quite obvious but could catch bite marks on his neck. Eyes that shone a rather beautiful shade of blue. Actually, now that he looked at it, something was off about her eyes. What could be-

“Hey, what do you think this button does?” Fleur asked, turning to Astarion.

“Opening the door next to it, I assume,” he responded.

“Then why the button,” she mused. “Why not just have the door, like everywhere else.” She paused for a moment, then turned back to the other two, “Move closer for a bit. I’m going to push this and I’d rather have heads where I can see them.”

Astarion snickered, “Sounds like you’re talking to children.”

Fleur sent him a weak smile, “I’m more used to that than talking to adults. Brace yourselves.”

She pushed the button, and as he predicted, the door opened.

What he didn’t predict was the skeletons strewn about the room to get up.

“Oh shit,” Fleur whispered.

The battle, if you could even call it that, began. Astarion moved forward, deciding that the bow was the best course of action for now. The skeletons were far, and he highly doubt he’d get too close without something horrible happening. He shot one on the ledge above them dead on, staggering it slightly.

A slew of spells slung their way, a firebolt hitting Shadowheart and a ray of frost, which he managed to only be nicked by. Before much else could progress, Fleur channeled a bit of magic, and without warning…

“Even alive, you must have smelled like something rotten.”

The skeleton above them fell into pieces, a bit of excitement fueling him. They definitely could stomp these things.

Another skeleton ran forwards, getting a good hit on Shadowheart. She hit him back, adding an extra shove with the shield as Gale cast firebolt, sending flames to one of the skeletons further back in the room. The skeleton furthest back began casting before everything went quiet.

Silence, how marvelous. And I’m surrounded by casters.

He ran around the group and the skeleton challenging Shadowheart, aiming at the one holding up the spell, and launched an arrow. The fucker didn’t fall, and the spell stayed strong.

Another lobby of spells came their way from the other two skeletons, hitting Gale and Fleur this time. With the silence up, he wasn’t expecting much. Fleur ran up next to the skeleton in front of them, and raised up a dagger.

And brought it down with the worst form he’d ever seen, not just missing the skeleton by a wide berth, but cutting herself in the process.

Astarion wasn’t even sure he had seen it quite right, until the blood trickled down her arm. If it wasn’t for the silence spell, he’d be yelling so loud, he could probably do damage. How do you fuck up that poorly?

He didn’t miss Shadowheart’s eye roll and she swung again with the mace, this time seeming to do slightly more than the last.

Someone had to, he bitterly thought, as sprinted to move out of the radius of the spell, before casting his own back to the skeleton that was holding up the silence spell. This time the creature fell, and with it the spell. He wasted no time turning around, pulling out his rapier and finishing off the brute.

“Since he’s now dead, let’s try sticking to things that are useful?” he sneered.

If looks could kill, Astarion would be dead again from the glare Fleur sent him, but she said nothing, instead braced herself for the ice spell sent her way. Another spell was slung to him, but he managed to easily dodge it.

Shadowheart sent some kind of holy spell to one of the skeletons, downing it instantly. Gale casted another small flash of fire to the other one, which Astarion finished off with an arrow.

They waited a beat, seeing if anything else would rise from the coffins around them, but once it proved still, they all began put their things away.

Astarion turned over to Fleur. “What’s the point in having a dagger if you don’t know how to use it?”

“Listen, Mr. Snark, not everyone is built for combat,” she huffed. “If anything, I’m just glad it wasn’t worse.”

Astarion had never really noticed the pouch at her hip, and when she opened it, he noticed it was a set of daggers, most of them designed for throwing. They were well polished, and carefully shined. But that wasn’t nearly the detail that caught his eye the most.

What caught his eye was one of the larger daggers was missing.

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aedisveneris · 1 year

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PICK A CARD IF YOU’VE EVER FELT PERSONALLY VICTIMIZED BY LOVE a peek at the burn book of venus

this work is done for the love of tarot + is intended only for those open to it. It is in no way intended to be professional advice. please consume this, + all general online readings, responsibly.

whenever you’re ready your message is under the cut…

thanks for being here!

MARKERS Pulp Tarot by Todd Alcott Tarot of the Divine by Yoshi Yoshitani New Choice Tarot by Rosario Salerno

PILE 1

So you’ve found yourself in a situation with someone who checks all the right boxes except for the one about commitment. For whatever reason you cannot be with this person in either an official or an open way. Why?

Because Love isn’t happy with where you’re pouring yourself. You’ve been breaking your back trying to make something dysfunctional function. What that other person is doing to not be able to commit to you is irrelevant. It’s that you’re accepting it that’s the problem.

Your abundant heart is treasure. How are you protecting yourself from thieves? Would you know how to recognize one?

All the details + advice from Love on the matter over on YouTube!

PILE 2

Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone? It might’ve been many romantic options or a lot or romance coming from one person but what’s true for all of you is the loss of that abundance.

You couldn’t properly appreciate it and so you had to lose it. That was the best outcome for everyone involved. Because now that you’ve experienced this loss you’re better equipped to handle something worthwhile the next time it comes your way.

For all the details + advice from Love on the matter check out the full reading on YouTube!

PILE 3

When what’s outside of our comfort zone feels overwhelming we naturally want to linger within it. But when what waits outside is Truth we’re hurting ourselves by not facing it.

There’s a sting to the Truths you’re avoiding; at least one of them has to do with that thing or person you’re engaging with that you know you’re better without. That it’s convenient or a habit don’t work as excuses anymore.

Love and Life demand courage. You’re being called to find yours now.

For all the details + advice from Love moving forward head over to the full readings on YouTube

#tarot #pick a card #pick a card reading #tarot reading #pulp tarot #tarot of the divine #fyodor pavlov tarot #readings #pvbl #festival of love #avfol23 #avfol #avfolpvbl

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reaper2187 · 1 month

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Abigail x female farmer reader

The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the rolling fields of Y/N's farm. The early morning air was crisp and filled with the earthy scent of freshly tilled soil. Y/N stretched her arms high above her head, taking a deep breath of the countryside air. The life of a farmer was hard, but every day brought new rewards and challenges that made it all worthwhile.

As she set to work watering her crops, the sound of footsteps crunching on the gravel path caught her attention. Turning around, Y/N saw Abigail making her way up to the farmhouse. Her signature purple hair shimmered in the morning light, and her expression was as lively as ever.

"Morning, Y/N!" Abigail called out, waving as she approached. "I hope you don’t mind me dropping by this early. I was bored, and your farm is always a nice place to escape to."

Y/N smiled warmly, setting her watering can down. "Of course, Abby. You're always welcome here. I could use the company, too."

Abigail's eyes lit up as she stepped closer, taking in the sights of the thriving farm. "Wow, your crops are looking amazing! You’ve really transformed this place since you first moved here."

Y/N chuckled, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Thanks. It’s been a lot of hard work, but it’s worth it. There's something really fulfilling about watching everything grow."

Abigail nodded, her gaze drifting across the fields before settling back on Y/N. "I get that. It’s kind of like adventuring, in a way. You start with nothing, face all sorts of challenges, and in the end, you come out stronger. Plus, there's treasure at the end of the journey. Except your treasure is fresh vegetables."

Y/N laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I never thought of it that way, but you're right. Farming is its own kind of adventure."

"Speaking of adventures," Abigail said with a grin, "have you done any exploring in the mines lately? I’ve been thinking about going back down there. It’s been a while since I’ve had a good battle with those cave creatures."

Y/N wiped her hands on her jeans and nodded. "Yeah, I actually went down there a few days ago to gather some ores. It was pretty intense, but I managed to find some good stuff. If you want, we could go together sometime."

Abigail’s eyes sparkled with excitement. "I’d love that! It’s always more fun when there’s someone else to share the danger with."

"Let’s make a plan for it, then," Y/N said, enjoying the way Abigail's enthusiasm was infectious. "But for now, how about you help me with the farm chores? I’ve got a lot to do before the day really gets started."

Abigail hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Sure, why not? It’ll be good to do something different for a change."

Together, the two women set to work on the farm, with Abigail asking questions and Y/N happily explaining the different tasks and techniques. As they worked side by side, Y/N found herself sneaking glances at Abigail, admiring the way her eyes sparkled with curiosity and her hair bounced with every movement.

It wasn’t long before the sun climbed higher in the sky, and the warmth of the day began to settle in. The two women paused to take a break near the chicken coop, wiping the sweat from their brows.

"You know," Abigail said, leaning against the wooden fence, "I never really appreciated how much work goes into running a farm. You make it look so easy, but this is hard!"

Y/N chuckled, handing Abigail a bottle of water. "It definitely keeps me busy, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. There’s something really satisfying about knowing that I’m providing for myself, that everything I grow and raise is because of my own effort."

Abigail took a sip of water and nodded thoughtfully. "I get that. It’s like when I’m playing my music. There’s this feeling of accomplishment when I finally get a song just right, and I know it’s all because I put in the time and effort to make it happen."

"Exactly," Y/N agreed. "It’s that sense of pride in what you do. And it’s even better when you can share it with someone else."

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to pause. There was something unspoken in the air, something that made Y/N’s heart beat just a little faster.

"Speaking of sharing," Abigail said, breaking the silence, "do you mind if I hang out here for a bit longer? I know you probably have a lot to do, but I really like spending time here. And with you."

Y/N felt her cheeks grow warm at the admission, but she smiled and nodded. "I’d love that, Abby. Stay as long as you want."

The rest of the day passed in a blur of laughter and work. The two women fell into an easy rhythm, with Abigail helping out where she could and offering amusing commentary that kept Y/N entertained. It was one of those days that felt like it could last forever, where every moment was filled with simple joy and companionship.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, the two women found themselves sitting on the porch of Y/N’s farmhouse, sipping on lemonade and watching the stars begin to appear.

"This has been a really good day," Abigail said softly, her voice carrying a note of contentment. "Thanks for letting me hang out here, Y/N."

Y/N smiled, her heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. "I’m glad you came, Abby. It’s been a while since I’ve had this much fun."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the night sky deepen and the stars grow brighter. The sounds of the farm, the gentle clucking of the chickens, the rustling of the trees in the breeze, all blended together into a peaceful symphony.

"You know," Abigail began, her voice a little hesitant, "I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what I want to do with my life. There’s so much out there to explore, so many things to try, but sometimes I wonder if maybe...I’m just running away from things."

Y/N turned to look at her, surprised by the vulnerability in Abigail’s tone. "What do you mean?"

Abigail sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I don’t know. It’s like...I’m always looking for the next adventure, the next thrill, but I never really stop to think about why. Maybe I’m just afraid of settling down, of staying in one place and missing out on everything else."

Y/N reached out and gently placed her hand on Abigail’s, giving it a comforting squeeze. "It’s okay to feel that way, Abby. You don’t have to have everything figured out right now. Life is about exploring, finding out what makes you happy. And if you’re not ready to settle down, that’s perfectly fine."

Abigail looked down at their joined hands, a small smile playing on her lips. "I guess so. But...what if I find something, or someone, that makes me want to stay? What if I’m too scared to admit it?"

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the implication of her words, but she kept her voice steady. "Then I think you owe it to yourself to explore that feeling. It might be the start of a new adventure, one that’s just as exciting as anything else you’ve experienced."

Abigail looked up, her eyes searching Y/N’s face for something, and Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat. The connection between them felt electric, like the air was charged with possibility.

"Y/N," Abigail whispered, her voice barely audible, "I think...I think I’m starting to feel that way about you."

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of surprise and joy flooding through her. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, she leaned in, closing the distance between them, and pressed her lips gently to Abigail’s.

The kiss was soft and tentative, but it carried all the emotions they had been holding back. It was a kiss filled with the warmth of the sun, the sweetness of the lemonade, and the promise of something more.

When they finally pulled apart, Abigail’s cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkled with a mixture of surprise and happiness. "Wow," she breathed, her voice full of wonder. "That was...really nice."

Y/N smiled, her own cheeks warm with a blush. "Yeah, it was."

Abigail’s smile grew wider, and she leaned her head on Y/N’s shoulder, letting out a content sigh. "Maybe...maybe this is the adventure I’ve been looking for all along."

Y/N wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close as they watched the stars twinkle above them. "Maybe it is. And I’d be more than happy to explore it with you."

They sat there together, wrapped in the warmth of their newfound connection, as the night settled around them. The future was uncertain, full of possibilities and challenges, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that they had found each other, and that was the start of a new adventure, one that they would face together.

The days that followed were a whirlwind of emotions for both Y/N and Abigail. They continued their usual routines—Y/N tending to the farm, and Abigail splitting her time between the farm, the town, and her music—but now there was something new and exciting underlying everything they did together. It was as if the world had shifted, and suddenly, every moment they spent together was charged with the possibility of something more.

One afternoon, a week after their first kiss, Y/N found herself nervously pacing the farmhouse kitchen. She had invited Abigail over for lunch, and though they had spent plenty of time together recently, today felt different. She wanted everything to be perfect.

The table was set with care, a simple but delicious meal of fresh salad, bread, and a homemade vegetable soup simmering on the stove. Y/N had even gone out of her way to pick some wildflowers from the meadow to place in a vase on the table. As she glanced at the clock, she felt her nerves getting the best of her.

What if she doesn’t feel the same way anymore? What if that kiss was just a momentary thing?

Before she could spiral further into her thoughts, there was a knock on the door. Y/N quickly wiped her hands on her apron and rushed to open it, her heart skipping a beat when she saw Abigail standing there with a bright smile on her face.

"Hey, Y/N!" Abigail greeted, stepping inside. "Something smells amazing. Did you make all this?"

Y/N nodded, feeling a bit bashful under Abigail’s gaze. "Yeah, I wanted to do something special for you. I hope you like it."

Abigail’s eyes softened as she looked around the cozy kitchen, taking in the effort Y/N had put into everything. "You didn’t have to go to all this trouble, but...I’m really glad you did. It’s perfect."

They sat down to eat, the conversation flowing easily as they enjoyed the meal. Y/N found herself relaxing, the warmth of Abigail’s presence easing her nerves. As they talked about their plans for the upcoming harvest season, Y/N couldn’t help but admire the way Abigail’s eyes sparkled with excitement, her passion for life shining through in every word.

After lunch, they took a walk around the farm, the summer sun casting a golden glow over the fields. The conversation turned to lighter topics—funny stories from town, the latest escapades of the town’s residents, and Abigail’s newest obsession with sword-fighting.

"I’ve been practicing with my sword every day," Abigail said with a grin, swinging an imaginary blade as they walked. "I’m getting pretty good, if I do say so myself."

Y/N laughed, watching her with fond amusement. "I’m sure you could take on anything that comes your way, Abby."

Abigail beamed at the praise, but then her expression grew more serious. She lowered her imaginary sword and turned to face Y/N, her eyes searching her face.

"Y/N, I’ve been thinking a lot about us...about what happened last week," she began, her voice steady but laced with emotion. "I just want you to know that...that kiss wasn’t just a one-time thing for me. I meant what I said. I really do care about you."

Y/N’s heart swelled with affection, and she reached out to take Abigail’s hand in hers. "I care about you too, Abby. More than I can even put into words. I don’t know where this is going, but I want to find out. With you."

Abigail’s face lit up with a radiant smile, and she squeezed Y/N’s hand. "I’m so glad to hear you say that. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and it’s kind of scary, but...I want to see where this goes too. I want to be with you, Y/N."

Their confession hung in the air between them, heavy with promise and possibility. Without hesitation, Y/N pulled Abigail into a gentle embrace, holding her close as they stood in the middle of the sunlit field. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s arms.

As they pulled apart, Abigail looked up at Y/N, her eyes filled with a mixture of happiness and vulnerability. "So, what now?" she asked softly.

Y/N smiled, brushing a stray strand of hair behind Abigail’s ear. "Now...we take it one day at a time. We keep doing what we love, and we build something together. Whatever that ends up being."

Abigail nodded, her smile growing wider. "I like the sound of that. One day at a time, with you."

They spent the rest of the afternoon together, wandering the farm and talking about their hopes and dreams for the future. As the sun began to set once again, they found themselves back on the farmhouse porch, sitting side by side and watching the stars appear in the darkening sky.

This time, there was no need for words. They simply sat together, their hands intertwined, content in the knowledge that they had found something special in each other. The future was still uncertain, but with Abigail by her side, Y/N felt ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

As they watched the stars twinkle above them, Y/N couldn’t help but think that this was the beginning of something beautiful—a love that would grow and thrive, just like the crops in her fields. And with Abigail by her side, she knew that this new adventure would be the greatest one yet.

The days turned into weeks, and soon enough, the harvest season was in full swing. The fields were bursting with crops ready to be harvested, and Y/N found herself busier than ever. But despite the long hours and hard work, there was a new lightness in her heart that made everything seem easier.

Abigail continued to visit the farm regularly, helping out where she could and always bringing her infectious energy with her. They fell into a comfortable routine, working together during the day and spending their evenings talking, laughing, and sometimes just sitting in companionable silence.

As the harvest season reached its peak, Y/N realized that she had never been happier. The farm was thriving, and so was her relationship with Abigail. They had become inseparable, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

One evening, after a particularly long day of harvesting, Y/N and Abigail sat on the porch, enjoying a well-deserved break. The sky was painted in shades of pink and purple, and the air was filled with the sweet scent of ripe fruit.

"This has been the best season yet," Y/N said with a satisfied sigh, leaning back in her chair. "I couldn’t have done it without you, Abby."

Abigail blushed at the compliment, but her eyes were filled with pride. "I’m just glad I could help. It’s been amazing watching everything grow, knowing that I had a part in it."

Y/N turned to look at her, a soft smile on her lips. "You’ve done more than help, Abby. You’ve made this place feel like home in a way I never expected."

Abigail’s expression softened, and she reached out to take Y/N’s hand. "You’ve done the same for me. I never thought I’d find a place where I truly belonged, but...I think I’ve found it here. With you."

Y/N’s heart swelled with emotion, and she squeezed Abigail’s hand, her voice filled with sincerity. "I’m so glad you feel that way. Because I can’t imagine this farm, or my life, without you in it."

Abigail’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and she leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to Y/N’s lips. It was a kiss filled with all the love and gratitude she felt, a promise of everything they had yet to experience together.

When they finally pulled apart, Abigail rested her forehead against Y/N’s, a content smile on her lips. "I love you, Y/N," she whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat at the words, and she smiled, her own eyes glistening with tears of happiness. "I love you too, Abby. More than I ever thought possible."

They sat together, wrapped in each other’s arms, as the stars began to twinkle above them. The future was still uncertain, but Y/N knew one thing for sure—whatever happened, she and Abigail would face it together.

As they watched the night sky, Y/N couldn’t help but think about how far they had come. What had started as a simple friendship had blossomed into something beautiful, something that had changed both of their lives in ways they could never have imagined.

And as they sat there, holding each other close, Y/N knew that this was just the beginning of their story—a story filled with love, laughter, and endless possibilities. And with Abigail by her side, she couldn’t wait to see what the future would bring.

#lesbian #wlw #wlw post #x fem reader #x reader #x fem!reader #stardew valley abigail #sdv abigail x reader #abigail x reader #sdv #stardew valley #wlw fanfic

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