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luveline · 11 months

Note

I am so incredibly sick rn and desperately craving some Hotch comfort—maybe bau!gf who desperately tries to hide the fact that she’s sick even when she’s burning up and can’t keep her eyes open, and Hotch who just wants to take care of her!!

thank you for your request! i hope you feel better soon. —hotch fights to take care of you when you hide a fever. fem!reader, 1.4k

Spencer knows you're sick, but he's the only one who's figured it out so far. Everybody else is too busy.

He pushes your coffee toward him and exchanges it for a cup of water without saying anything. You're relieved to find it's ice cold, fighting to drink it without spilling it, or worse, pressing it to your furnace of a forehead.

"Just go home," he says.

"I like it here," you say lightly.

"You're fatigued, obviously running a fever, and probably disoriented if your eyes are anything to go off of."

"Are they?" you ask, eyes fluttering closed.

You prop yourself on your hand. Having a desk right next to Spencer has its ups and downs. Ups including physics magic, surprise trinkets, and all the donuts you can eat. Downs include this —he's too good at his job but bad at taking a hint, so while he's realised that you're sick and tired and should probably head home, he hasn't stopped to think you might be keeping it a secret for a reason.

If you take more sick leave already after your week long bout of food poisoning only a fortnight ago, it will look like you're trying to take advantage of Hotch. You don't want the team thinking you're cheating and you don't want Hotch to think this is how it’s going to be. You’d never use him like that, but it’s so early into the relationship that there’s no way for him to know that for sure.

You take a measured breath. You're the kind of sick that yearns for bed, head heavy, a pounding pain behind your eyebrows and a nose you can't breathe through. Your lips are chapped despite the thick layer of balm you applied that morning. The weight of a bowling ball rests in your sinuses. Your head begins to list forward.

"Y/N?"

You look up, rubbing your forehead as nonchalantly as you can manage. Hotch stands with a hand on the railing of his half-platform, eyebrows pulled together as they tend to be.

You like the sound of your name on his lips, even if it's said with question.

"Yeah?" you ask.

Before, it would've been, Yes, sir? But Hotch told you (while in boyfriend mode, assumedly) that it makes him hot around the collar (though he'd said it more delicately), so now you save it for special occasions, like when you want to get your way, and when he looks especially perturbed.

"Something wrong?" he asks.

He can't like the way you say, "I'm fine," maybe he spots the far-away look in your eyes, your poorly concealed wince as your head throbs, maybe he just knows you. He gives you a look bordering reproachful and turns away.

"My office," he says.

Spencer sends you a pointed look. When he realises you aren't awake enough to glare back, he nudges you encouragingly. "Be honest," Spencer says.

You almost fall up the short steps to the landing in front of Hotch's office. You don't knock before entering, and later you'll realise how odd this is. Hotch hasn't even sat down, instead straightening a paper from the wrong side of the desk.

"What's wrong? Another migraine?" he asks.

"No. I'm alright, did you want something?"

He turns around fully. You like seeing him after hours without his suit, arms behind his tired neck and eyes half-lidded, but this look is just as good on him: furrowed brows, a hand twitching toward you but not touching. He tries not to cross the line here at work because when it starts it never ends. Your evaluations have to be cross examined and approved by a higher up, you are not permitted to room together on cases, and you have to report to HR every three to six weeks to reaffirm that Hotch isn't being coercive. It's odd and invasive at times, but these are things you have to do to be together. You'd do worse.

"Did I want something?" he asks. It's more patient than incredulous, but the incredulity is definitely there.

"From me?"

"I want lots of things from you." He breaks eye contact with you and turns back to his things, shuffling papers into a manila folder. You blink dozily, wanting a hug and needing him to let you go back to your desk lest you give in and lean against his broad chest. "Like for you to take care of yourself."

"I'm fine."

"Forgive me if this is something I shouldn't say, but you don't look okay. You look sick."

You summon your most convincing smile even while his back is turned and enthuse your tone with some practised pep. "Well, it's not the most romantic thing in the world."

He ties the cord on his manilla envelope and clicks open his briefcase. It's a testament to how sick you are that you didn't notice it there, nor his coat thrown over the edge of the desk.

"You going somewhere?" you ask curiously.

"I'm taking you home, honey."

You shake your head. "No, you're not. I'm fine."

Hotch puts his coat on regardless. Briefcase closed and in hand, he walks the short distance to you and scans your expression for any give. "Let's go home."

"Hotch–"

"Home," he says, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "No more 'Hotch'."

You take a step back but not one more than that, startled by his readiness to leave, and his reluctance to believe you. You're a bad actor and he's trained in the art of untangling deception —it isn't going to work. You give it a valiant effort.

"You don't have the resources to give me the day off. You definitely don't have the resources to take a day off with me, and that's fine because I'm not sick." You rub your face clean, dust off your work blouse. "I have a headache, it's not so bad."

Hotch actually smiles, then. You worked for him for three months before you realised he could. It isn't what you're expecting. It disarms you.

"Liar," he says, ducking down to give you a kiss. He sounds amused and sorry at once, an impossible combination marked by his small smile and his protective hand at your elbow.

Every kiss is like a shock. Not because Hotch is particularly abrasive to the senses, the opposite —it feels right.

"I'm not lying," you say.

"Take the day off with me, then."

He knows he's being a bit of a bastard, evidenced by his smile, but he sobers for your sake. "You're lying to me, but that's not what matters. I can feel your head like a flame and I'm not even touching it. And you've kept your secret well, honey, but Reid's a good friend."

"What did he tell you?" you murmur.

"You fell asleep for sixteen seconds."

"When?" you ask in disbelief.

"A couple of minutes before I called for you." Hotch squeezes your arm.

"If we go home you'll have so much work to do when we come back," you lament.

"It'll be the same as any other day," he says. He's slipped into his most dulcet tone, the kind he uses with family. "I am… desperate, to take care of you. I can't do that here. Please oblige me and let me do it at home."

"Oblige you?" you ask.

"Being your boyfriend isn't working. I thought I would try boss instead."

You relent, finally. You genuinely can't abstain from him anymore, not when he's being as ridiculously charming and gentle as he is, his hand steadying at your elbow. Plus, your brain is probably gonna explode inside of your skull any second now if your headache is anything to go by. You drop your face into his chest and sigh, relieved when his hand moves to your shoulder, and his cheek presses to the top of your head.

"This is inappropriate," you mumble.

"You're really not well, hm?" he asks, just as quietly. "I'd be negligent if I didn't take notice. Doubly negligent if I didn't take you home."

"Human resources…" You mean to say more. He's solid, he wants to hug you, and he smells like his expensive cologne. Hotch has a presence about him that's automatically comforting once you overcome the intimidating. Sometimes, even, the intimidating helps it along. You feel sheltered by his arms. Totally safe. It's probably why you nearly pass out in his embrace right there and then.

"Okay," he says, rubbing your back. "Alright. I'll let human resources know your complaint, honey, don't worry. Let's get you to the car."

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sinofthesloth · 7 months

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so how do you think Epel, Vil, Malleus, Azul and Jack Howl would deal with a crush who actually starts running at them and hugging them as a greeting after a couple months of knowing the boys? (The hugs only seem to be reserved for the boys. Crush clearly has a favourite. Probably horrifies people when they first do this to Malleus). Like their senses tingle and they bee line for the boys and suddenly the boys are being hugged by this human with golden retriever energy from behind or somehow this person had teleported in front of them and hugged?

Hey Sin here, not sure if you want all the boys together since you wrote, "Crush clearly has a favourite." but I am going to separate so each boy has his own part. Sorry if this is not how you wanted them. Also this is my first time doing an ask, so thank you for sending one in!

Content/Warnings: Jack's part is more of a general day of school, Epel's part is centered around the Song and Dance Competition (Epel's part has slight angst and talks about Vil's overblot) Azul's part talks about his overblot, Vil's part talks about his fangirls, and Malleus part talks about Sebek a good bit. (I love him) Requested: Yes by @nesting-dreams Word Count: At least 400 per boy. Written: December 1st. Characters: Jack, Epel, Azul, Vil, and Malleus

Jack

At first the hugs didn't confuse Jack. He took in stride and squeezed back. He had younger siblings and knows that sometimes a hug is just what a person needs to get by. He had known you for quite some time.

He was there for Leona's as well as Azul's overblots. He knows the kind of stress that has been put on you, and he wants you to know he will always be there for you.

Jack started to notice his crush on you when he would make eye contact with you across the courtyard and you started to make a dash to him. At first he thought it was cute, but day after day, he started waiting for you. It was a slow realization, but after Deuce called his tail wagging out at the track field, man was embarrassed.

He also noticed you didn't hug the others like you'd hug him. If he was looking away, you'd softly wrap your arms around him. If he was in a group, you'd make sure he saw you coming first. But every time you'd hug any of the other boys it was always a side hug. You would also press him into yourself as much as you could when you hugged him.

He just hoped you wouldn't notice his tail wagging each time you held him close.

Epel

You've seen each other in classes before, but you didn't speak more than a few short sentences with each other. Just enough to know his name and a few facts about him. You two finally got much closer during the Song and Dance competition.

During the first night they all stayed at the Ramshackle dorm, you made your rounds making sure everyone was comfortable. You didn't need Kalim's family to come after you nor did you need Vil's fangirls finding out you didn't bend to the man's every whim. Epel was the last one you checked on before heading into your own dorm room. It was clear he was upset.

That night you sat with Epel into the late hours. He talked about how worried he was. How he felt that he was always underestimated thanks to his feminine looks, and how he knew he would never live up to Vil's standards of him. Of the standards he put upon himself. He talked about how he always put his best foot forward in fear others will never give him a chance if he didn't. He works this hard only to prove he is capable.

That was the first time you hugged him. Since then, every morning you gave him a quick squeeze before serving everyone breakfast within Vil's restrictions. You'd hug him before practice, after practice, during breaks, during lunch, after classes. Anytime you could spare to hug him, you did. You wanted to show him you cared.

At first he'd give you a light tap on the back, but as time passed he fell in love with holding you against him. He was enjoying these hugs these past two weeks. He enjoyed the encouragement and praise you'd give him and it was clear to Rook and Vil how Epel was changing. He was trying harder, he was more attentive, he was doing anything to prove himself to both you and his dorm leaders.

After Vil's overblot, you beelined it for Epel. Grabbing him with one hand in his hair and the other pressing his chest into yours. He wasn't letting you go anytime soon. He could take the whispering comments of the first years and the mumbles of his dorm leaders later.

Azul

Azul wasn't nice to you before his overblot. He used you, used your friends, used his friends and did many other horrendous actions. No matter what he said during his moment of weakness was an excuse to do what he did, but that didn't stop you from taking his words to heart. He was a scared, hurt child. Still was in some sense. He was coming down from his overblot when you hugged him. He held onto you as he cried. All you could do was help him hide his face in your chest as whisper sweet nothing as he latched onto you sobbing.

As time passed, you grew closer to him. He wouldn't talk about the overblot and you wouldn't bring it up. No one knew why you started to randomly walk up to him and hug him. Half the time you wouldn't even give Ace or Deuce a front hug like you did him. Azul refused to drop the boss-man attitude but if anyone looked as close as the twins did, they'd see the way he would twist the back of your shirt with how tight his grip on you was.

Sometimes, when you were behind him, you'd run up and squeeze him from behind, taking him by surprise. That was the only time his face would be covered in apple-red blush. He'd clear his throat and scold you, before opening his arms for you to give him a proper hug.

He couldn't hide his crush from the twins. They'd talk about how you wouldn't give anyone a front hug, much less one from behind. Just recalling it made his face explode.

He grew addicted to see you. Especially from afar. If you thought he'd make it out of a room before you could reach him, you'd run up and tackle him into a hug.

Vil

Vil was never a hard man to find. Just follow the trail of glitter or the clicking of phone cameras. You don't really remember how the two of you got close. It definitely might have been when you were running from Rook and leeched onto Vil to hide behind. From there, the three of you bloomed an odd friendship.

Vil catches on immediately, and in the beginning of it, he does try to get you to stop. Not just for his image, but yours as well. There have been videos of you running up and jumping on him for a hug. A few of you hold him for just a moment to long and pictures upon pictures of the two of you.

There are multiple theories about the two of you online. Rook loves reading these out loud to Vil while he is getting ready for the day. Seeing his face tint with a cherry red color always puts a smile on Rook's face.

It gets to the point that you'll stop hugging him and instead wave or jokingly bow toward him instead. Which just ignites a fire on the internet. His fangirls want to know if y'all broke up? If y'all were ever together? What happened? Why aren't you hugging anymore? Vil didn't know what to do. He seemingly was going through a mode. Rook called them withdrawals. Epel was just annoyed both for you and because of you.

By the end of a week and the swarm of questions on all his posts, he talks to you about it. Asks what you believed would be best. "No matter what you do, you are in the public's eye. Do what makes you happy." You wouldn't hug him until he made a decision himself. You didn't want to push him one way or another. Another week passed, and he noticed how you didn't hug others the way you hugged him. Ace would get side hugs, and Deuce would get hugs where you wouldn't fully wrap your arms around him. He seemed to be the only one you'd throw your arms around the neck of.

He was glad he was the only one you'd hold like this. His decision wasn't any easier, but he knew he missed your hugs. "Maybe behind close doors."

"You can always just start dating them." Epel commented.

Malleus

(- He is extremely ooc and I hate it, so I'll be fixing it soon. Hopefully after class)

As soon as you attempted to sneak up on Malleus, Sebek is there to call you out. He would be snatching you off the ground before you made it twelve feet in range of Malleus.

The hugs started the night of Vil's overblot. He visited to check up on you, and you didn't know how to thank him. He talked about it for days afterward. Lilia was the one to bring up sneaking up on him for a hug. You've hugged him at least once a day since. Sebek is distraught any, and every time he sees you hugging. Marching over to promptly remove you from Malleus.

If you can make it to him when running up to him, he will laugh before lifting you up as you jump into his arms. It also takes him an embarrassingly long time to realize that you don't hug others like you hug him. He doesn't fully understand the deeply rooted pride his has over this. He also doesn't notice how much he looks forward to your hugs until you're sick one day.

Lilia has to drag this man out of your dorm because he was trying to cuddle up into your bed with you. He just wanted a hug. You promised to give him two tomorrow and with that he left. Leave you some soup and medicine after Silver explains that since you're magicless, there is no way of telling how your body would handle it.

Sebek was mortified. The prince of fae was crawling into the bed of a human. Lilia was dying of laughter as the prince sulkingly walked back to the hall of mirrors. It was clear to those who were close to him that he had fallen in love with a human, those that weren't feared the upset dragon-fae.

No worries. As soon as you hugged him the next day, everyone was wiping out their phones to capture photos. It was spreading like wildfire, and when he returned to his grandmother for the holidays, she asked where you were.

Hope you enjoy trying new foods and being surrounded by multiple suits of armor.

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dawndelion-winery · 2 years

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hello! I saw that your request status was open and recently ive read your "you fell first, they fell harder" can we get a part 2 of that? (w diff characters, any characters are fine!)

Idk can you?

You Fell First

They fell harder

Ft. Pantalone, Alhaitham, Scaramouche

Pantalone:

He knows all too well how easily emotions cloud one's logic

And he fully plans to exploit that fact

It just amuses him greatly to see how willingly you'd obey him, almost like a pet

Until it started to seem more like you were just a doting master, and he, your spoilt cat

It finally dawned on him when you'd noticed he looked a little tense and offered to massage his shoulders

The more he relaxed into your touch, the less he wanted you to stop touching him

Until he caught one of your hands and brought it to cup his own cheek

Nuzzling said hand before planting a kiss on your palm

Yes, he could definitely get used to this sort of treatment

And you should get used to giving him said treatment or he'll loom over you pretending to be monitoring you

Really just looking for an opportunity to hold you from behind or something

Alhaitham:

Disgusting icky plant man

He probably just didn't realised he was fond of you ngl

Which leads to a lot of "they're just a friend" moments

He's holding doors for you, even doing a lil jog to make sure he gets to the door before you do - very friendly behaviour

Leans his head on your shoulder when you flirt with him - classic friend activity

You're such a great friend for tagging along to help out with all his shenanigans<3

But why are the people he's trying to negotiate getting so...chummy with you?

Now that won't do, he's the only one who's supposed to kiss your knuckles and sidle up to you

"What are you, grouchy, their boyfriend?"

"That is correct, so if you had any semblance of sense left, you'd step away from them."

Scaramouche:

First he thinks it's a joke; you're friends now, friends joke about these things, right?

Then he starts to suspect you're trying to pull a prank on him and break his heart like everyone else dear to him did; very funny, but he's figured it out so please stop

But when you insist it's not? He's still suspicious

It's like feeding a feral cat, you drop the food (your affection) a little bit in front of you and step back so he can inch forward and snatch it up before retreating, getting a teeny bit closer to you each time

He also finds comfort in you patting his head - ruffling his hair and the likes - not that he'd admit to it outright

But you'll find he's more willing to incline his head towards you, especially when you're in need of a little comfort

You'll probably never really notice just how hard he's fallen for you because he won't make it obvious, but know that anything you feel for him, he feels stronger

He scares himself with how much he adores you, how much vulnerability he shows you

And that's really the only way to know you've caught him hook, line, and sinker, because under no circumstances would he let himself be so bare before simply anyone

Taglist[send an ask to be added/removed]: @myluvkeiji @pluvioseprince @aqui-soba @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @yuzuricebun @chaosinanutshell @heizours @haliyamori @callmemeelah @sadlonelybagel @plinkuro @thevictoriousmoon @mastering-procrastinating @lovers-on-the-eiffel @cxlrosii @miss-fantazmagoria @lychme

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jedipoodoo · 3 months

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Hey! I was wondering if I could request a HunterxReader. Something where Hunter is like really possessive over reader with like another guy? Or one of his brother getting a little too close for his comfort, nothing nefarious, just lite teasing.

Thank you in advance.

Again, you’re doing amazing sweetie!

Me reading this request:

I hope you enjoy this one!

Man After Midnight (Jealous!Sergeant Hunter x Reader)

Notes: Hunter POV, The Return of The Kyle™, guy gets handsy with reader and Hunter does something about it, alcohol consumption, bar fight, 79s, feel free to check out my personal 79's Playlist here. Spoilers tagged for the gif. Y'all do not know how long it took me to find a season three gif for this one.

Whenever the squad convinced Hunter to join them at 79's, he tuned out the noises and smells to the best of his abilities. The overlapping of a million voices, all too similar to differentiate, the body odors and cologne, the pounding bass of the pop music, it could get to be too much.

But when you asked him to join you, he couldn't say no. He was powerless to the pleading in your eyes and the joy in your smile when he finally said yes. Or it could have been how Crosshair commented on how good you looked in the new outfit you'd bought for clubbing, but he'd never admit it.

The six of you crowded into a booth at the back of the bar, farthest from the speakers. Hunter made sure that he got the seat next to you, only for Tech to remind you that it was your turn to grab the drinks from the bar. You smiled at Hunter apologetically as you tried to climb over him without bothering him too much. He had a better idea though, and gently placed his hands on your waist, easily lifting you over his legs and placing you on the outside of the booth.

Wrecker gave a wolf-whistle at the wide-eyed look on your face, and you quickly looked away, running over to the bar as fast as you could through the crowd.

The others were chuckling as Hunter frowned. Had he messed up? Was he too forward? He didn't consider himself a shy person, but he'd been so sure that you were sending him signals that you were interested.

"Hmm," Crosshair hummed.

"What is it?" Hunter sat up.

Cross smirked, "It seems our resident civilian is attracting some attention."

Hunter quickly scanned the crowd, looking for you. Halfway between the bar and the squad's booth, drinks spilling out of your arms, you were stopped talking with a senate guard. What one of them was doing here was beyond him, but Hunter didn't like the way he was looking you up and down, and half-blocking you from the booth. He wasn't even offering to help you with the drinks.

Hunter slammed his hands on the table to push himself out of his seat and marched over to you, shoving the guard to the side.

"Let me help you with that," He said, taking Wrecker's boilermaker and Tech's martini from where you had kept them expertly balanced.

"Hey, excuse me clone-"

"You're excused," Hunter rolled his eyes at the senate guard and nodded you towards the booth, "Let's go."

"Thank you," You said softly, but he heard it all the same. And you were smiling at him, so he hadn't totally messed up.

The two of you handed out the drinks to their respective drinkers, and Hunter herded you back into your seat.

"Who was that?" Wrecker asked, downing half his drink in one go.

You shrugged, "No one in particular. I think his name was Kyle?"

Hunter huffed. He couldn't tell himself if he was annoyed or amused by this revelation. Of course the smarmy senate guard would have a name like Kyle.

The evening carried on, Wrecker ordered more drinks, Echo found some old friends from the 212th, and Hunter could hear Tech rambling to a very interested Rodian woman who listened to him describe the nesting habits of rancors with stars in her eyes.

You, of course, were on the dance floor. You were always dancing around the Marauder, humming to yourself as you cleaned up your workspace or made the caff. Whenever Hunter saw you dancing, it felt like all was right with the world.

He spotted Kyle across the room. Hunter was surprised he'd stuck around, the senate guards typically didn't deign the clones to be good enough company to make the way across town to 79's.

But Kyle wasn't paying attention to any of the clones. His beady eyes tracked your every movement out on the dance floor. Hunter felt a rumbling in his chest, like a reek warning others to stay back.

Kyle, of course, couldn't hear it, and even if he could, he probably would have ignored it anyway. The senate guard shouldered his way through the crowd on the dance floor, announcing his presence by placing his hands on your hips.

Hunter heard your yelp of surprise and grit his teeth. He launched himself from the booth and marched across the room. Several startled patrons hopped out of the way when they saw the look of pure rage on his face, but all Hunter could focus on were your protests as Kyle grinned.

"Really sweetheart, I'm just trying to give you a compliment, is all!" Kyle laughed as you flushed in embarrassment, trying to push him away. Kyle's grip tightened on you, but Hunter grabbed him by the shoulder. When Kyle turned with a smart quip, Hunter decked him across the face.

"They said no!" He snarled, his arm out in front of you like a shield.

A few clones gave out supporting cheers as the senate's flunkie was laid out across the nearest table, but Kyle wasn't the only one present. Two more men, decidedly not clones, approached Hunter menacingly, trying to defend their friend. He saw them coming, but he had to take a hit from the first one so that the other could get close without suspecting too much. Then Hunter took the both of them with one swing.

"Hunter!" You cried out. A crowd was gathering, and Wrecker was trying to make his way over to you and help Hunter out.

Hunter placed his hands on your shoulder, standing in between you and Kyle.

"You alright?" He asked.

"What?"

"Look out!" Someone shouted. Hunter shielded you with his body to see the senate guards standing up.

Kyle pushed himself to his feet, though he still leaned unsteadily against the table.

"You're gonna regret that, meatdroid!" He snarled, blood dripping down his chin from a broken nose. Kyle charged towards the two of you, but Hunter stepped to the side at the last minute, catching Kyle by the collar of his dress uniform. It was tight enough already, but with Hunter gripping the fabric, Kyle had to gasped for air. Hunter swung him around and right into his would-be bodyguards.

"No fighting! No fighting!" the steward droid waved its arms, but no one was paying it much attention. Wrecker caught the three stooges by the scruff and happily carried them out the door like a mother tooka, dropping them on the veranda where they could hail a hovertaxi.

Once he was certain that Kyle was taken care of, Hunter turned to you.

"Are you alright?" He repeated.

"Am I-?" You shook your head, "You have a black eye!" You pointed out, as if Hunter wasn't wincing every time he blinked.

"Just a scrape," He insisted.

"If I had a credit for every time-" You were too upset to even finish your thought, but you grabbed Hunter by the lip of his chestplate, pulling him over to the bar. You asked the serving droid for the medkit, and brought him back into the bathroom stalls.

"That was incredibly stupid of you. You know what kind of trouble you could get into if you hurt them too badly!" You made Hunter sit on the edge of one of the sinks so that you could treat him properly.

Hunter sighed, "Trouble seems to find me regardless of whether I do anything or not."

You fixed him with a death glare that made it clear he was better off not saying anything until you were done treating his wounds, superficial as they may be.

"Don't do that again, you hear me?" You slathered bacta over his eye, and dabbed some on the cut on his lip. Fortunately, there was one more ice pack in the poorly-stocked kit, so you snapped it in half to activate the cooling gel.

"Sorry cyare, but I'm afraid I can't make that promise."

You froze, the ice back an inch above his eye. He could feel the air cooling around it, and gently took the ice pack from your slackened grasp, pacing it against the swelling skin.

"Hunter," You gasped, "don't say things like that. Even for me, it's not worth the risk." Your hands were shaking, so you busied them by packing up the remains of the medikit.

Hunter grit his teeth as you turned your back to him, "You are worth every sacrifice I have made. Every shot I've taken, every nightmare that haunts me, every humiliation I've had to endure from those miserable excuses for sentient beings," He waved the ice pack in the air, trying to indicate Kyle and his flunkies.

"It's worth it," He insisted, "Just to see you smile."

He heard your heart beat faster as you swallowed the lump in your throat, and he knew he'd gone too far.

"I... I didn't know you felt that way..." You whispered.

Hunter hopped down from the sink and marched out the bathroom door. He needed a nice, stiff drink.

A couple of the other clones gave him strange looks for the eyepatch, and a few who'd seen the fight asked if he was okay. Hunter ignored them all, trying to flag down a steward droid.

"Hunter!" You shouted his name above the din of the music. He decided it was best to ignore you too.

By the time you finally made your way to him at the bartop, he was halfway through a drink he'd regret in a couple hours.

"What do you think you're doing!?" you demanded, hands on your hips.

"Having a drink, what's it look like I'm doing?" He grunted miserably.

"You can't just tell me you love me and walk away like that!"

Hunter spat out a mouthful of alcohol all over the serving droid, leaving his tongue and his nose burning from the taste.

You, however, were unperturbed by his reaction, folding your arms across your chest.

"Now are you going to ask me to dance or not?"

#tbb spoilers #lizart writes #tbb hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #hunter bad batch x reader #79s

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velvetcloxds · 1 year

Note

📮DITCH THE WHOLE SCENE- send me a character and any option from my request guidelines and I'll write a baby blurb/dialogue for it

OFF-LIMITS | S.B.

word count: 0.9k

warnings: pairings in the tags, little suggestive comment at the end

summary: after getting a little carried away at the after-party, you wake up in your brother's best friend's bed, which is not the best situation to be in on the morning of a meet and greet

"My brother is going to kill me," you were searching for your socks, you didn't need them as much as your search made it seem but it was better than losing your mind while doing nothing. "My brother is going to kill you," you found one, groaning lightly as you kneeled down beside the bed to pick it up, looking up when Sirius sat up on the bed, throwing his legs over the side in the process.

"Good morning," he hummed and you wanted to throw him with the sock, be damned if it got lost again, because how very well dare he be so calm. Sitting there shirtless looking as unfairly sexy as ever giving you that same little smirk that convinced you that sharing a bed instead of booking another room wasn't as bad an idea as you knew it was. "Did you sleep well?" he was kidding, he had to be. Did you sleep well all cuddled up in his strong tattooed arms? Yes. Have you been dreaming about doing that since your first show together? Also yes, but none of that would matter once your brother found out and killed the two of you.

"Sirius, are you aware of our current situation?" he didn't seem like he was, gentle hand reaching out to help you up and sliding right down to your waist to keep you in front of him. He was showing you no mercy, allowing his thumb to slip past the hem of your shirt, brushing over your skin a few times, only satisfied when you shivered lightly under the soft, forbidden touch.

"Everything is going to be fine," he promised and you rolled your eyes, clearly not on the same page. "Love, we didn't do anything wrong, yeah, there's no reason to freak out."

"We cuddled," you began, allowing him to pull you closer, knees against his, your hand settling around his wrist. "And we kissed, a lot," you looked down shyly, there hadn't been much time to process that part just yet.

"The scandal," he mused, admittedly satisfied with your reaction as he laughed lightly, stealing a quick glance at his pillow stained with your makeup before looking back to you with a smile. "We didn't do anything wrong," his smirk deepened, eyes practically laced with mischieve as he shrugged. "Not yet, anyway."

"You don't get it, trouble," your body moved without your permission, his lap seeming to be the perfect seat as you settled on his thigh, dragging a hand through his hair with a little shake of your head. "He made me promise, once I stepped onto that stage with you guys, you were off-limits."

"You were off-limits too," he agreed and it was sort of pathetic how he became putty in your hands so quickly, the simple touch of your fingers threading the paths in his hair had him close to purring, eyes nearly closing. "Shit, maybe we really are screwed," he breathed and the grip on your hips was enough proof, his head lulling forward against your shoulder, kisses breathed over your skin.

"What are we going to do?" he wasn't all that eager to answer, a faint smile finding your lips as his kisses spread to your neck, a feeling you'd never thought you'd be lucky enough to be familiar with, but as guilty as you felt, you weren't sure you'd be able to stay away again. "Do we go back to just being friends?" you were nervous for the answer, your heart knew that whatever happened the night before was right, it felt right, too perfect to be wrong, but your head knew that things would be complicated if you continued to act on what your heart wanted.

"Could you do that?" he peeked up at you with big curious eyes, up through his lashes and it made your heart do leaps in your chest, your fingers moving gently to reach up and smooth the frown from his lips- you shook your head. "Then we take it slow, yeah, see if it works- we don't have to tell anyone anything just yet, not until we're sure."

"And if I'm sure now?" he smirked, any sense of seriousness gone in a second as he tightened his hold and threw you onto the bed beside him, crushing you under his weight but you didn't mind, anything but.

"Then we just get to enjoy our little secret for a while," you didn't know where to put your hands, sliding them up his chest and eventually stopping to cup his cheeks, not even daring to bite back your happy smile. "You like the sound of that, sunshine?"

"Maybe," you lied, he noticed, and the way he leaned down to kiss you was an excruciatingly long wait, so when his lips finally met yours you couldn't even help but melt, humming against him and the sound vibrated right through his body. "Didn't think I'd ever get to do that in real life."

"Is it better than in your dreams?'

"So much," he was pleased with that, making sure the next kiss lasted even longer, savouring every second, because he knew that for as long as you had to hide whatever you had going on, moments were going to be fleeting, special and he didn't want to take for granted the time he had with you now.

"Good, now what I'm wondering is what other dreams we could put to the test..." your cheeks were burning, skin tingling at his tone and you knew he wasn't one to tease without following through which is why the groan that left his mouth following the knock at the door was anything but exaggerated.

"Pads, you better not still be in bed," your brother's voice was like a cruel hand dragging you right back to reality, a finger on your lips reminding you to keep quiet when you tried to push Sirius off you. "You've got ten minutes before we're leaving, mate, I need to go find my bloody sister," and then he was gone, the last thing you expected to hear in return was the soft laugh of the rockstar on top of you.

"You're not going to make this easy on me, are you, trouble?" he shook his head and you were gone, there'd be no return to friends if that look, that torturous little look, was anything to go by.

"You know the answer to that, sunshine."

#brother's best friend!sirius black #rockstar!sirius black #sunshine!reader #rockstar!reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x yn #sirius black fluff #sirius black drabble #sirius black blurb #sirius black imagine #sirius black one shot #sirius black fic #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fanfiction #monique's 22 (taylor's version) celebration #monique's writing events #right where queue left me

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tu-sugar-mami · 1 year

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If I may, I have a request for an Alcina x reader!

You’ve been invited to Alcina’s chambers a few times now and she’s grown fond of you, and you of her. Alcina’s true feelings for you are revealed after an incident where she realizes how great her fear of losing you is.

Oh. My. Goodnessssssss I promise I was gonna write a like 500 or 1k at most lil story and I ended up writing 3,300 words lmaooo this request is so good I SWEAR aaaa thank you for sending it and I'm sorry it took me so long to finish it I got so carried away. Welp, I hope you enjoy it!

°female reader, not beta read, slight angst, happy ending, canon typical violence I guess, ladies and gentlemen for the first time: oblivious Alcina Dimitrescu

3,300 words

_______________________________________

When you first arrived at Castle Dimitrescu it was with uncertainty and fear in every step. Whatever awaited you past the doors was unknown territory, and in the back of your mind, the horror stories told by the elders in the village resonated within you. Alas, like any other maid searching for refuge in that castle, you were not there willingly. The village resources were scarce and the fear of your cabin along with yourself being torn at night by the neverending waves of lycans were enough reasons for you to try to find employment within the Dimitrescu household.

You were accepted into the staff quicker than you would have expected, and soon enough you started working quietly and efficiently.

Whether it was your silent enjoyment for cleaning or the unbothered reaction to the daughters' games and deliberate bloodied messes (no one could blame you, really, not when you spend all your life waiting for your end with welcoming arms), there was indeed something that caught the Lady's eyes.

Perhaps it was the lonely look in your eyes, or perhaps the polite smile that never reached your eye that tugged at Alcina's heart. Could it be maybe that she saw a glimpse of herself before her transformation in you? A woman whose life circumstances made a shell out of her… She started watching you closely from the dark after you witnessed Cassandra having an angry fit with a maid and contrary to what anyone expected you were found completely unbothered by it and began cleaning the mess with dutiful practice. It was odd, the Lady had thought. Not even her oldest staff would be so numb to such display, and yet you –having been part of the staff mere days at the time– were unreactive.

Daniela even seemed to have grown fond of you in the little time you'd been working there. It's no wonder she always told her mother about you, unknowingly feeding the fire of curiosity within the Lady. Yes, she definitely had to investigate. Why were you there in the first place? From then on, the Lady was aware of every little thing you did in search of something that could give her some clarity, although you were none the wiser.

As for yourself… well, you had only seen the Lady from afar once, but it wasn't enough for you to form a solid opinion on her. The villagers had told you stories of what she was capable of, and even though you wouldn't mind having an "ascension to Mother Miranda's heaven" that didn't mean you were actively seeking your early demise.

By your fifth month working at the castle, you had gotten well acquainted with the three Dimitrescu sisters, even going as far as to spend time with them outside of your maid duties. You didn't know what they saw in you to enjoy your company, as far as you were concerned, there was nothing special about you, or at least none that you could see yourself, no special talent other than your well earned skill at crochet and the fine work you did at organizing; both activities usually needing only half of your mind thanks to the simplicity and repetitive movements, leaving the rest of your imagination to fly away.

Still, cooking with Daniela, crocheting with Cassandra and organizing the library books with Bela were activities that you eagerly looked forward to throughout the day, and unbeknownst to you, Alcina couldn't help but feel a strange warmth in her heart when you spent time with her daughters.

The first time the Lady invited you to have some tea with her, was unexpected. You remember being outside in the backyard, the cold breeze scratching at your reddened cheeks and biting your fingers while you scraped the snow out of the stone stairs with a hand shovel as a punishment from the head maid.

Unsuspecting, you kept focused on your task doing your best to tune out the growing numbness crawling up and reaching your wrists, until a light tap on your shoulders startled you.

When you turned, the Lady herself stood in front of you, bending forward enough for her hand to reach your kneeling body.

"What do you think you're doing out here?" She asked, and it could have been your imagination but her voice felt gentler than the other times you've heard her speak to the other maids.

A thoughtful look painted her features as you recounted how the head maid caught you giving your rationed food to another maid since she had missed her turn at the communal table, and then decided to have you clear the entrance stairs as a form of discipline. Recounting this, you saw the Lady for the first time, truly saw her. You had gotten quite used to only having glimpses of her retreating figure every now and then, but having her in her entire 9 foot tall glory before you was a sight to behold.

She was gorgeous, that was undeniable. The roundness of her jaw and the high cheekbones gave her an inviting aura, but you knew better than that.

The Lady, observant as always, caught the light shiver of your shoulders, and it was only then that she noticed the lack of proper clothes to wear outside in the unmerciful weather, instead the only thing covering you aside from the standard uniform was a light shawl wrapped around your shoulders like a makeshift blanket.

"Come." She had told you, and before you could react you were being guided by the shoulders toward the Lady's chambers, on your way to enjoy a quite nice cup of hot honeyed tea to warm you up.

Surprisingly, the conversation flew comfortably, and you found yourself enjoying the Lady's company, and even if you didn't know it, the Lady felt it way too easy to talk to you.

From then on, you couldn't tell when the reunions became more frequent. Not that you were complaining. Talking to the Lady was always nice, even if at first you were afraid of saying something that would end up with you visiting the cellar, but alas, you grew to enjoy the easy talk, and with time the Lady allowed you to speak freely.

It was odd after a few months, though, out of nowhere the way the Lady herself would go fetch you instead of sending a maid to summon you. You hadn't seen her pay the same attention to any other maid, but the slowly growing butterflies in your belly fluttered more often than not whenever you saw the Lady on the hall entrance, already waiting for you. Of course no words were needed, you would follow her as soon as the soft smile appeared on her lips.

Perhaps it was the time you spent together with the woman, but you started seeing things that little by little melted your heart and filled you with a gentle buzzing, things that anyone else would completely miss. Despite everyone believing the Lady to be cold and heartless, the reality was all the opposite. The way she looked at her daughters with so much love and softness made your heart warm, the gentle nudges and praise for the treasure and pride that were her three girls were always present. And not only with her family, but she also cared for her maids, in her unique ways, but cared nonetheless. The Lady was nothing if not a fair employer, even if your coworkers wouldn't see it like that.

Yes, the Lady was caring. How else could she remember your specific taste in tea and snacks? Every time you were to visit her chambers, the steaming tea and muffins were already set waiting in a tray on the coffee table.

Soon enough, you felt the same comfort talking to Alcina -as she one warm afternoon urged you to call her- as talking to one of your closest friends. Was it normal for you to always want to be there for her? Probably not, but alas can she blame you? You felt pulled by her like a moth to a flame, the metaphor being more accurate than not, what with the same dangerous fire only a small distance from consuming you. You're positive you could stare at her molten gold eyes until the end of your days if she so allowed.

Two years of the same routine were more than enough for Alcina to have you wrapped around her finger, and you learned to read her like an open book. Great friends you were after sharing conversations for so long, and even the maids knew you to be her confidante.

You were happy with your unofficial title, and although you wished you could be something more significant to your Lady, you knew your place very well. In the time you had accompanied the Matriarch, she hadn't really given you reasons to fear her aside perhaps for her anger outbursts, but you knew better than to test your luck. The Lady might have been lenient with you, but that didn't mean she wouldn't dispose of you whenever she found fit, after all what were you, a mere maid, to someone powerful like her?

Two years and a wonderful three months had passed since that first conversation, until you began to notice a certain change in Alcina's attitude.

All of a sudden, your usual routine began to crumble. The first thing that shocked you was that you were denied entrance to her chambers for your tea time, and as if that wasn't enough, the sightings of the Lady around you became more and more sparse. She, unknowingly, left you to wonder just what you had done wrong to upset her, and if that was the case, why wasn't she chasing you to put out your candle? Even the daughters' buzzing remained far away from you, and the only thing that came for you after you accidentally did something wrong was silence and solitude rather than the slightly annoyed rolling eyes followed by a small smirk from your Lady.

Perhaps Alcina had just tired of you, and even if it hurt you, you promised yourself you'd move on eventually and continued working as diligently as you had done all this time.

Turns out that, another three months after your promise, forgetting Alcina still proves hard. No matter in what an unbothered way she had pushed you away, you couldn't force yourself to desist from her…friendship? So that's how you find yourself on your way to offering one last tea. One last hopeful plea before this time letting her go once and for all.

You're reaching the top of the stairs on your way to your Lady's chambers, when you spot a man trying to open the twin doors on the second floor balcony.

"Who are you?" Your voice startles the man and he turns. There's a slightly manic look in his eyes, and you're immediately weary of him. As of late, the hunters from the village have receded in their attempts at breaking in, but the one in front of you doesn't seem to be in his right mind at all.

"Get him!" Bela's voice thunders from the end of the hall, and you immediately know they're hunting the trespasser.

The man seems to get the hint and makes a run for the stairs, but he's so frantic that he doesn't have enough control to completely dodge your body half blocking the stairs, and as he runs past you his shoulder connects with you harshly.

"Wha–"

That nudge is all you need to lose your footing on the stairs. The tray you were carrying along with the delicate porcelain teacups falls to the ground with a shattering clash and is at this point that you should worry about your imminent fall from the second floor, but the real reason behind your wince is knowing your Lady's wrath at breaking her favorite china set will not make itself wait if you survive.

Well, if you're gonna have a bad time anyway, you might as well make the best of it. If you're descending to your downfall, the man will come with you…

The man is not fast enough to dodge your iron grasp on his jacket as you begin spinning down, and the strength you pull him with brings him rolling down in toll.

The man is resilient and whilst tumbling down he tries to break free from your grasp, fighting with you and your fierce scratching retaliation.

"Let go of me!" He grunts while pulling on your hair harshly in an attempt to make you yield, but you answer by digging your fingers in his eyes.

The edges of the stairs' steps dig hard against you, and soon enough there's sharp pains pulsating in several parts of your body.

In the background you can hear a familiar voice (Daniela maybe… or perhaps Cassandra?) calling for their mother. If you're not mistaken there's also a quickly approaching buzzing sound, but it's muffled by the loud ringing in your ears.

You land on the tiled floor with a loud splat, and you swear you feel your wrist snap under your weight, but the adrenaline keeps you from acknowledging it, instead your focus is on trying to find your footing shakily and your eyes are pinned to the man that with a great effort manages to crawl away.

The man quickly gets away as good as his legs can allow him, reaching for a nearby dagger that in the fall spilled from his now torn backpack.

"No!" You hear someone yell, and the man with his weapon in hand pounces at you before you can completely stand.

The silver dagger, beautifully intricate and slightly curved, reaches your side, the tip finds its way through your clothes and the harsh hit leaves you breathless. The pain in your body and the lack of air along with the pulsing in your wrist and the dizziness of the fall makes you fall to the floor again on your knees and embrace yourself in an attempt of comfort. The corners of your sight become dark and blurry at times.

"What have you done!" To your surprise, your Lady -who wasn't far behind her daughters when they called for her- finally reaches you both and in a second her hand is wringing the man's neck.

A groan from you makes Alcina's gaze snap at your limp body on the floor, and her eyes widen as she confirms that the dagger is indeed buried in your side. It takes her a moment to fully process what she's seeing, and in her mind the mantra 'It can't be…' is repeating over and over again.

The damned Dagger Of Death's Flower's -the same dagger that the dirty scum had stolen a few hours prior- is sticking out from your side.

Her panic sets in, and her eyes become blurry. The overwhelming anger she felt towards the man that dared to touch you is completely overridden by the absolute fear.

Not you… please not like this.

The now unconscious man is thrown carelessly across the room towards the three daughters who have regrouped, Alcina will deal with him later in a much more proper way, for now the only thing in her mind is taking care of your agonizing self.

Her breathing becomes ragged, and if her heart could still beat, it would be hammering against her chest in fear.

"No… no, no!"

She can't lose you like this.

Her tears are now flowing freely, staining her cheeks with ruined makeup as she kneels and oh so carefully brings your weight onto her lap. She's delicate, more than anyone would have thought her to be, she's so gentle and tender in the way she holds your limp body against hers, and there's a light tremor in her usually steady hand as she clears your face from stray locks.

Her long time friend, her only one in so long actually, is now walking on the edge between life and death…

Good Lord, why does it feel like the dagger stabbed her heart instead? Why does seeing you like this feel so wrong?

There's deep regret in the way her frown crinkles her forehead.

There's nothing else she can do for you now, not when the poison from the dagger is in your system.

Despite Alcina's aversion to touching the dagger, she forces herself to remove it. She won't allow it to pester you more, or tarnish the last memory she'll have of you.

She pulls the weapon with a hard tug, but to her shock the blade comes out clean, there's no spurting blood coming from the supposed wound, and in its place, through the torn fabric she can see a familiar green cover and engraved golden letters.

A loose sob comes from her, it's wet and definitely unladylike, but the relief she feels it's too immense for her to care about propriety.

It's a book that hides under the clothes. The book she had gifted you so long ago it's what saved your life. That book that had always annoyed her thanks to your constant insistence for her to read it was the shield that had stopped the poisoned blade from touching you.

Honestly Alcina couldn't be more thankful and relieved.

"Ow…" You mutter against her as she holds you closer, and her laugh mixed with disbelieved sobs drown your complaint. You don't really care though, the familiar and comfortable scent is enough to have you burrow further into the Lady.

Next thing you know, there's a pair of lips pressing against your forehead.

"Oh darling, I thought I had lost you…"

As soon as those words leave Alcina's lips, there's a realization that comes so suddenly to her, falling on her like a bucket of ice. It's when you raise your head and finally look at her with big and teary eyes and smile sheepishly at her, at that moment she knows for the first time that you, her maid and friend, hold her heart in your hands.

This time, without hesitation, her lips fall on yours, gently minding your injuries, but desperate enough for you to feel her relief. You're alive and that's all that matters to her. It doesn't take you a second after before you're kissing her with the same need.

"Finally…" You hear someone say far behind you, and it takes you a moment to recognize the owner of the voice as Daniela's.

"Let's go treat your wounds." Alcina says before carefully carrying you in her arms bridal style all the way up the stairs until you're out of sight from the daughters and the man now completely forgotten.

Alcina sets you down on her bed and finally lets herself look at you with all the love you deserve. Honestly, it isn't a mystery how she fell for you, but now she can't help but to feel silly at how she avoided the strange feelings she had whenever you were nearby. How could she know those feelings that made her avoid you for so long were in reality quite the strong love?

Well, she did know how, but of course she would tell.

The many years of her life had taught her that love wasn't for her. Her past had made her blind. Feeling like this after so long, it was almost a new experience for her. It's no wonder then that she didn't know why you made her feel like that in the first place.

And now, with you having your wounds bandaged and properly kissed better, resting on top of her and nestling your head under her chin as she gently rubs your back, she can't think of you not being in her life ever again.

#alcina dimitrescu #My fic #lady dimitrescu x maiden #requests #lady dimitrescu x female reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #re8 #lady dimitrescu #alcina x reader

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kairismess · 6 months

Text

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ holiday headcanons event !!

day 4.1: being sakusa's secret santa 🎁

🍰 genre: fluff !! ✒️ word count: 970 💭 summary: being sakusa's secret santa 🎁 📣 thanks for requesting anon ! if you'd like to request any other prompt for any other character, please refer to my holiday headcanons event and send me an ask!

you had a dumb smile on your face that spoke of anxiety and hesitation, you had no idea if he'd like the gift you got for him. you weren't even that close to the man, he always did seem untouchable from where he stood, and not being that into others in the first place... it seemed highly unlikely you two were ever going to have a conversation outside of the court or arenas, let alone anything that didn't involve volleyball.

you were just the team's manager, one of the people responsible for handling the members; but even though you knew everything about the others, kiyoomi sakusa was the only enigma out of all of them. you tried to get close to him over the years you two have worked together, but he always seemed to be aloof and distant, not really someone you'd see yourself becoming friends with.

you knew a few basic things about him, like how he loved to keep himself clean, never went to after parties, spoke only when spoken to, was extremely forward and direct to the point. there were multiple instances where you felt tiny under his gaze, and it wasn't just because he literally towered over you in terms of stature, but because his gaze... it was cold and sharp when it was clear he didn't like nor was comfortable with a certain thing. you've seen him gaze at hinata, atsumu, and bokuto like that most of the time, and you were scared he'd look at you just like that after opening the gift you got for him.

in your defense, you spent the whole two weeks you had before the get together thinking about what to gift him, you put so much thought into this; even going out of your way as to casually ask him ever so often in between practice matches and lunch breaks what he'd like his secret santa to give him, or if he had to wish for one thing, what it would be.

but of course... sakusa always answered you vaguely.

"i'd... like something that isn't dirty,"

"something that isn't so expensive, i don't like show offs,"

"...i suppose something that'd keep me warm,"

"...why are you asking?"

oh, he was good.

you took in a deep breath as everyone gathered together and the gift exchange was going to start any minute now. knowing sakusa, there was a 50-50 chance he'd either not really care about what he got and awkwardly thank you, or stare you down intensely for your choice of gift. you hoped against all hope the former would be his reaction, but as the gift exchange began, you just decided to deal with his react later, you spent your time and effort on this, even if he doesn't appreciate it, you know you always would.

"sakusa!" you exclaimed his name, beaming as you tried to push all thoughts of him judging you for your gift to the back of your mind, trying to enjoy the present moment for what it is, not what could be. the wavy, black haired man turns to look at you, his stoic gaze unchanging as you walk up to him, beaming. he clutched his gift for the person he was supposed to be the secret santa of in his hands, seems like he hasn't found them yet.

"um... so, you know how you've complained about the cold as of late? well... i made this for you, myself. a-and don't worry! i washed my hands every time i worked on this, and before i packaged it. yes, i disinfected the box, too, so, no need to worry about it being dirty, hmm?" you said in a fast tone, wanting to get this over with because you couldn't deal with sakusa's bluntness on you right now.

you awkwardly handed him the gift when he didn't say anything, just kept gazing at you as you spoke. he probably listened to you the whole time, seeing as how he didn't tear his gaze away from you for a moment. looking down at the gift you handed him, sakusa felt that it'd be high time to hand his secret santa his gift.

"...here," sakusa mumbled from behind his mask in a soft voice, extending his gift to you. you stared at the gift in his hand, dumbstruck. "y... you're my secret santa?" you muttered, your face feeling hotter as he paused and nodded, hoping you'd take the gift soon. you thanked him as you took the gift from him, and as if on cue, you both unwrapped the gifts you both had for each other.

sakusa's eyes widened at the sight of a cozy scarf you made for him, with a set of gloves along with it. you smiled at the sight, proud of your hard work. "well... whaddya think?" you asked him, beaming. sakusa unfurled the scarf and, not looking at you, he nodded. "...the colors are nice, and... so is the texture," he whispered. he looked at you, pulling his mask down so he could be heard properly. "thank you," he muttered, a tint of pink in his cheeks.

now, you weren't sure what sakusa gifted you yet, but the sight of kiyoomi sakusa himself thanking you for a gift you poured all your time and effort on, overthinking whether he'd appreciate it or not as the hours ticked by before the exchange... it truly warmed your heart. to hear sakusa be grateful for you was the only gift you ever really needed, and for sakusa... just anything from you would be enough; he was more than glad on the inside to get something so intimate from you, made by you. he'll definitely wear it every time he felt cold now, and if anyone asks... he'll just say it's from a special someone.

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kittievampire · 1 year

Note

Hello! Found your page recently and kicked myself to send in due to mammon and beel brainrot .-.

Anon because the filth req makes me shy lmao

Some ideas for ya (f!mc)

- 69 with Beel, but he's gagged with cloth, poor baby can only use his hands and whatever bit of tongue he can get out

- Exhibitionism and teasing from Mams (Cockwarming at the casino? Fingering on The Fall dance floor? These sound like bad porn titles oops)

- Beel wants a subtle spread leg MC dessert under the table at dinnertime (big hungry demon can't stay quiet and the other brothers def notice)

Also - folks HC that Mams would be too posessive to share MC but imo he'd prioritize MC's pleasure above anything soOoo..

- Sub mammon tied up and only getting kisses/ hj from MC while Beel hits it from the back

- DP with greedyboi and hungryboi (who prefers pussy/ ass? Writer's choice!)

- Beel gets a meal *cough pussy*, while Mams gets a beej

- Overstim feat. both of them, greed and gluttony means orgasms til they're satisfied. Get wrecked mc.

I feel both of them have a praise kink? Both giving and receiving. But this might just be me wanting to give the good boys a treat

*This turned into a long brain dump sorry lol feel free to take or leave any prompts :') My brain is now free and I pass the rot to you

Hoooollllyyyyy

Damn

I just

Damn

Yes

YES

Lemme see what I have in my bag, my dear~

Click here if you wanna request!

Warnings: Smut, Switch!Fem!MC x Switch!Beelzebub x Switch!Mammon, Dacryphilia, Bondage, Overstim, Oral (f. receiving), Gagging, Concealed!Public Sex

Enjoy, you horny fucks.

"How you holding up, Beel?"

You gently stroked his large, hard cock with your small, soft hand, placing little kitten licks against the tip that was drooling with precum. His length was coated in your saliva as a result of you happily gagging and drooling all over it when it was in your mouth, as well as the stimulation you were getting from the Avatar of Gluttony's fingers.

You were so cruel.

When he tried to muffle a response through the red cloth that you'd shoved into his mouth, you couldn't help but giggle. You didn't even need to look at him, you could just tell that he was obscenely drooling at the sight of your cunt. You moaned, not only at the feeling of his thumb circling your clit while his fingers thrusted knuckles-deep into you, but also at the thought of how he looked right now.

Were his eyes blown out?

Did he look ready to pounce?

How was he still keeping himself together?

"D-Don't worry, baby, just a little while longer, I promise." You'd said that many times over, and yet, you still haven't given him the privilege of ravaging your pussy like the starving glutton he was. You felt him inch close to your opening and pressed your tongue and lips against his cock, sloppily kissing and drooling all over it once more. "The m-more you struggle, the more time it will take for you to taste me, Beel," You cooed, pushing yourself down against his fingers, earning a lewd squelch sound and for some of your juices to land on his face.

He groaned, and you could hear a low rumble in his stomach.

"Almost done, Beel, promise."

To be quite honest, talking to his opponents, playing poker, and trying to keep you quiet was a lot of work. You were planted on his lap, cock pushed past your folds and the tip snuggled against your cervix.

"Royal Flush, baby! Looks like ya better cough up!" Mammon exclaimed with a snarky grin on his face, bouncing his leg, which caused you to move up and down on his cock. You blushed, biting down on your bottom lip to hold back your noises.

Thankfully, his opponents were too drunk to notice your reaction to his movements. "G'dammit. Double or nothin'!" One of the demons said, to which Mammon threw his head back and cackled.

You almost let out a whine, knowing that one more game means more time that you'd have to sit there and warm his cock, nothing else. Mammon leaned forward, lips close to your ear so he could whisper ever so quietly, "Ya heard that, Treasure?" He gripped your thighs tightly, making sure you wouldn't move. "One more game, yeah? You can last for a while longer, can't ya?"

You shuddered.

Your pussy was aching to be thoroughly fucked, and at this point, you wouldn't care if he bent you over the table. But you didn't want to disobey him.

Your walls clenched around his cock and he grunted. He pecked your cheek. "Good girl," He cooed before turning back to face his opponents.

Beel completely caught you off-guard.

You honestly didn't expect him to grab your thighs from under the table and push them apart, nor did you expect for him to be under the table in the first place. You looked down, eyes wide in shock as he pulled down your panties. He looked up at you and smiled sweetly before attaching his lips to your cunt.

It was all happening way too fast, and you were at the table having dinner! With his brothers, no less!

You nearly choked as you felt him drag his tongue lazily over your folds, a shudder running down your spine as a dark blush formed on your face. You clenched your teeth to suppress a gasp, covering your mouth as your eyes darted over toward the brothers.

Thankfully, Mammon was causing a bit of a ruckus at the dinner table, so none of their eyes were on you at the moment.

Beel's grip on your thighs only tightened as you squirmed, shoving his tongue into your cunt, groaning softly as he got a taste of your walls. You muffled a whimper into your hand as you closed your eyes, his thumb rubbing circles over your clit to further stimulate you. He wanted the sweetness of your release, and he wanted it as soon as possible. The lewd slurping against your cunt, as well as your soft whimpers, only made it through your fuzzy head when you looked up to see six pairs of eyes staring you down.

I'm gonna go ahead and make the three-ways in a seperate part. I'll link it once it's posted, but I hope you liked it, anon!

Masterlist

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me beelzebub #obey me beelzebub smut #obey me mammon #obey me mammon smut #mammon obey me smut #beelzebub obey me smut #mammon smut #beelzebub smut #omswd smut

597 notes · View notes

ddejavvu · 1 year

Text

Pizza Box Puzzle Pieces - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake is a responsible drinker, he swears. But when you're stuck being responsible for the night, a very drunk Jake gives you all but one piece to a puzzle you don't complete until the morning after.

Contents/Warnings: drinking, fem!reader, typical hangman behavior, enemies to lovers (really more like rivals to lovers)

Requested: A thousand times congratulations on such an amazing milestone! Could I please have an espresso w. enemies to lovers with Jake ‘hangman’ Seresin? ☀️ - @saintlike78 THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS SINCE SEPTEMBER I AM SO SORRY MY LOVE i hope you still like hangman <3

WC: 5.3K / navi

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Jake Seresin is a responsible drinker. He keeps a rideshare app on his phone, he tells Bob (the permanent sober babysitter) that he needs to be cut off after 10:00 PM, and he gives Penny his keys before he even orders his first drink.

Tonight, though, she'd left them unattended. There they were, shiny and appealing, sitting on the bar. She had left to get a clean dishrag, he could just take them! Driving sounded fun now, less of a chore and more of an adventure now that his brain was blurry.

You watch Jake's eyes widen as he catches sight of his keys, and your hand darts out to snag them before he can. His reflexes are slow, and when he reaches for them, his hand hits empty counter space.

He looks around, bewildered. They'd just disappeared.

"Here, Bagman." You jingle the keys in your hand, and he catches the sound from the few seats down where he's sitting. His eyes drift aimlessly over to your hand, and brighten at the sight of his keys.

"Thanks," He drawls, his southern lilt far more noticeable now that he's running on autopilot, "I'm gonna-" he hiccups hard, his chest bouncing, "Head home."

He stands, wobbly on his feet, and treads forwards to take the keys from you. You raise them above your head, but he doesn't follow, instead slumping forwards as his hand grasps at thin air. His head hits your chest and Coyote catches your eye from over Jake's shoulder. You widen your eyes, flaunting the keys you'd managed to snatch from him.

All the pilot does is laugh, and then his attention is shifted back to the dartboard. Typical.

"Jesus," You grunt, pushing at Jake's chest. He straightens up again, eyes blinking open from where they'd been shut, "What did you drink?"

"I don't remember," He admits, and that's all the explanation you need.

"Come on," You reach for his pocket, his phone sticking out, "Let's call you a ride."

"Nooo," He darts away, almost too late to evade you, "That's my phone."

"Yes Hangman," You smirk, "I think you're smarter drunk than you are sober."

"But that's-" He fumbles with his cell, "You can't touch my phone."

"I want to get you home," You urge, once more reaching for the device in his hands, "Don't you want to go to sleep?"

"You can't have it," He insists, yanking the waistband of his khakis off of his stomach and slipping his phone dangerously close to his crotch, "Unless you-" Another hiccup that flutters his eyelashes, "-wanna take it."

The smirk he shoots you after shoving his phone down his pants contains lethal cockiness. You're surprised the sheer size of his ego doesn't knock you down, you're not sure how you're standing so close to him without running into it.

You glance down at his phone. It's protruding just enough from his waistband for it to be quick and easy to grab. But your hand has never been that close to Jake's dick before, and you're hoping it never will be.

"Fuck," You deflate, shoulders slumping as your fingers curl tighter around his keys, "Come on, I'm driving you."

"Take my car," He insists, as if he's forgotten you have his keys, "It's.. It's really cool."

"Can't wait," You gripe, slinging his arm around your shoulders, "Come on, one foot in front of the other, Seresin."

The cold night air hits you like a tsunami. It floods your thin shirt and seeps into your bones, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. You've never known it to get this cold here, and the skin-to-skin that Jake's shoulder provides against your own is your only warmth.

You prop him up against his car while you fumble with the keys, but before you can click the 'unlock' button, he's snatching them from you.

"I wanna- I wanna do it," He insists, gripping the pointed end and bumping it up against the panel on the outside of the keyhole, "It's my car, I wanna.. do it."

You give him a minute to figure out the key. After it passes you yank it from where he's been pathetically butting it up against the hole, still confused about how to slot it inside.

"Gimme," You grumble, sliding the key into the hole with barely a second's delay, "You're too drunk for this."

"I'm not drunk." He scoffs. He says it with so much sincerity, with so much raw belief, that you're surprised that it doesn't come into existence. You're surprised the alcohol doesn't drain from his system completely, and leave him his usual coordinated, upright self. But he's still leaning against his car, half-coherent and dizzy.

"Right." You chuckle, throwing open the driver's side door and unlocking the rest of the car, "Get in, Hangman."

He starts for your seat and you shove him away, "No, not the driver's seat," You groan, "Other side."

He starts for the backseat.

"For fuck's sake," You exclaim, grabbing his bicep to lead him around the car, "The passenger's side!"

You get him wrestled into his seat with no further drunken antics, and you relish the fact that you've gotten him calm for the night. He's anything but when you finally glance up at his face, though, great big tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

"You're mean." He whispers, his voice shaky. You've never seen such a pitiful sight, his big green eyes brimming with anguish that seeps down his cheeks in rivers of tears. "You grabbed me, and-" He waves his bicep at you, "And you manhandled me," He gushes, angst-stricken, "You're mean!"

"I'm sorry," You sigh, playing into his inebriated sorrow, "Are you okay, Hangman?"

He doesn't note the sarcasm in your voice, sniffling pathetically, "No. It hurts."

You offer a quick pat to the affected area, but he shakes his head.

"Kiss." He offers in explanation, 'Kiss it better."

"I am not going to-" You begin, rage evident in your voice. Then you glance back up at his eyes, filled with new tears.

It's a staring contest for a moment, but you break first. You hunch, bracing yourself for the most humiliating thing you've ever had to do when you pucker your lips and press them into his bicep.

It's firm. Fuck, you wish it wasn't, it holds up under your lips and warms them. It's intoxicating, your lips on his skin, so close to his chest. It's exhilarating. You have to get away.

"There." You grouse, practically glaring at him despite the blush at your cheeks as you straighten, "Better?"

"Yes," He whimpers, and it's small, broken, pathetic, "Thank you."

You shut the door without another word, letting him wipe his own tears.

His car is surprisingly nice. Where you'd expect fast food wrappers and condoms, you find an air freshener.

He grabs it excitedly, shoving it into your face as you start down the road, "Darlin' you gotta- gotta smell! It smells like ocean breeze."

It slips over your eyes and you strain to get away from it, "Okay, Hangman, okay! It smells very nice," You gush, giving him the attention he's seeking. He preens proudly as he hooks it around his mirror once more, but he doesn't settle into his seat.

"Those are cool jeans," He prods a finger at your thigh, and even though you know it's drunken rather than lustful, his touch makes you shiver.

"They were five dollars," You humor him, feeling him fiddle carefully with the ripped strands of fraying string showcasing your skin.

"Cheap." He murmurs, concentration far too heavy on rearranging the strings. Half of them have ripped beyond repair from where they were stretched over your thigh, but he seems to be playing with them like they're yarn to a housecat. You have the sudden urge to run a hand through his hair and see if he purrs.

"My house is that way," Jake points blearily through the windshield down a one-way street, "It's the big blue one."

"You live in an apartment," You turn the wheel in the opposite direction, "And it's not blue, and it's not that way."

"Oh so you-" He hiccups, "-know where I live?"

"I do," You nod, keeping your eyes on the road even when his fingers keep pawing at your jeans, "I've been there before. Remember? We had a movie night."

"Oh yeah," He nods, brow furrowed, "Payback spilled his water on my carpet."

"Not water," You snort, remembering the cheap liquor spilled over the shag, "But yeah, he did."

There's a bout of silence that follows your words, shadows ripping through the car as you pass beneath trees. The road is paved unevenly in a few spots, and Jake's car bounces on its tires.

"Woah," He grumbles, head bumping your shoulder after a particularly raucous pothole, "Look! Look they're in a- a heart."

You slow to a stop in front of his apartment and glance down to where his finger is digging into your thigh. The loose strings on your jeans have all been twisted and tied into a heart that overlays the rip, puffy and frayed where it rests against your leg.

"Oh," You let the sincerity of the gesture steal the breath from your lungs, even if it does come out of a drunk man, "That's pretty, Hangman. Thanks."

You unlatch your seatbelt, breaking his trance. The heart, tied at the bottom and woven through other strands at its apexes, stays tightly knotted into your jeans, and you wonder if you'll ever be able to get it out. It's the last of your concerns, though, as Jake fumbles with his own seatbelt.

He finally jabs just right at the button, though it's after a string of mumbled frustrations. You swear you hear something along the lines of "You're pretty." thrown into the mix, but you choose to ignore it so that your hands don't get sweaty. You probably misheard.

It's a wonder that he's able to get himself out of the car. He lands with a crunch of gravel onto the driveway of his apartment, feet planted firmly beneath him. You suppose he might have sobered slightly during the long, quiet drive, and you're just glad you don't have to press him to yourself anymore to keep him upright.

Thankfully, he knows which door is his, but he forgets that you have his keys. You keep a hand stuffed into your pocket, curled around them, while he fumbles in his pocket for them.

“Damn,” He hisses, patting his pockets and coming up empty, “My- my keys are gone. I think someone took them, we have to-”

“I have your keys,” You’re far too smug as you hold them up, the ring hooked over your middle finger, “Remember? That’s why I drove?”

“Oh.” His brows furrow, and the word adorable flashes through your head before you can stop it. As soon as you acknowledge it, though, it’s gone in a puff of smoke.

“I’ll do it.” You carefully shoo his hands away from the door, slipping the key in and turning it. His apartment is neat, you’ll give him that, but you suppose it’s because he doesn’t have time to mess it up. You toe off your shoes in the doorway, leaving them in a heap which he contributes to. His boots are going to muck up your white wedges, but you can’t care about that right now. What’s more important is making sure Hangman doesn’t head straight for his own liquor stash, which of course, he does.

“No,” You rush for the bottle he’s about to grab, “You’re cut off for the night. Remember?”

“No,” His brow furrows, and he stares at your fingers wrapped around his own against the neck of the bottle, “I don’t.”

At least you know he’s being honest. You pry his hand off of the bottle, setting it back on the counter and letting go of his fingers. You expect them to drop but they don’t, they curl around your own and slot your palms together.

You stiffen but he doesn’t seem to notice, his hand still enveloping yours in a gesture that sends heat rushing up from your fingertips and straight to your heart. You glance down first, then up at him, finding a gooey, lovesick smile on his face paired with empty eyes.

“Hi, darlin’.” He gushes, and squeezes your hand.

Fuck.

“Okay, bedtime.” You decide, trying to pry your hand out of his grip. He won’t let you, though, the more you pull the closer he gets. Until he’s pressed to you, his right thigh to your left, chest-to-chest, smiling contently at you.

If you can’t make him let go, you suppose you can move. So you do, you lead him through the short hallway, and flick the light on in his bedroom. His room is.. less neat. There’s clothes on the floor, and what looks dangerously like an old pizza box sticking out from under the bed. You decide to ignore it for time’s sake, your main goal is to get Jake into bed before he tips over.

He looks close to it now, stumbling towards his nightstand to snatch a necklace off of it. It’s a delicate silver chain, and there’s a pretty heart pendant on it.

“Look,” He shows it off, “‘S my mom’s. She gave it to me before I came down here.”

“That’s very sweet,” You croon, and all of a sudden you want to know more about Mama Seresin, “I think I’d like to see you wear that someday, Hangman.”

“That’d look silly.” He muses, eyes shiny as they rove over the charm, finally putting it down to look back at you, “But if you’d really like it I’ll do it.”

You suppose that if anything comes out of his drunken stupor, it’ll be a hell of a lot of blackmail material. Apparently he’s blabby when drunk, and you’ll definitely ask why he’s not wearing his mom’s necklace tomorrow when you meet for breakfast.

“Okay, Jake, let’s get you changed.” You hum, glancing around his room and peering apprehensively at his dresser. You turn back, intent on asking him which drawers you should avoid opening, and are met with-

“Jake! Put- put your pants back on!”

Your hands fly to your eyes to shield yourself from the sight of Jake Seresin’s Uncovered Crotch, but you forget that he’s still clinging tight to you, and he stumbles along with you. All you can do is let out a strangled cry as his outer thigh presses against yours, praying nothing else will.

“Put your boxers back on,” You beg, “And- and get into pajamas! Oh my god.”

“Yeah,” Jake giggles, far too inebriated to read the room, “That’s what they all say.”

“I hate you,” You groan, and finally, he lets go of your hand.

There’s absolute silence for too long, but just before you can urge him to hurry up and get dressed, he speaks.

“You do?”

HIs voice is unlike you’ve ever heard it. Jake has a particular talent for boasting, and his voice often bleeds confidence, loud and strong and clear. Now it’s small, unsure and weak.

“Get dressed,” You huff, “With pants, please.”

You’re not eager to admit it, but you don’t hate him. Not at all. Sure, he annoys you, but he annoys everyone. He shoves confetti through the slats in your locker so that opening it triggers a snowstorm, he steals food from your plate when his own is nearly full, and he always, always knocks his knuckles against your helmet. But he’s never mean, he’s never insulted you or pushed you or demeaned you. So you can’t find it in yourself to hate him, even if you don’t always like him.

Or maybe you do. Maybe you bite back a smile when you find confetti on the ground, and maybe you bend over with your back to him just in case he likes what he sees. Maybe you steal his food right back, and maybe the best part of your day is when you make it a competition, and he practically crawls over Fanboy to try to nab a piece of your orange chicken. Maybe the rapping of his knuckles on your helmet makes you want to respond by bumping it against his chest, an urge you’ve never dared to act on.

Feigning hatred is much easier, you’ve found, than admitting love.

His voice cuts through your thoughts, still devoid of its usual enthusiasm, “I’m dressed.”

You let your hands fall to your sides with a relieved sigh, and though your vision is somewhat bleary from being covered for so long, you work with it, blinking until you can see his form, already under the covers on his bed and facing away from you.

“Okay,” You hum awkwardly, glancing around the room, “You’re gonna need medicine in the morning. And water, so-”

“Pills are in the bathroom cabinet, there’s a cup on the counter.” He drawls, voice muffled by his pillow.

You bustle off to gather those, and when you reenter his bedroom you find him staring at the wall. It’s a sad expression, an empty one, but you suppose that’s what binge drinking does to a man.

“I’m gonna head out,” You speak to his back, setting the pills and glass down on his nightstand, “Are you.. gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” He hums, “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” You mumble, more than ready to flee the awkward scene, “Bye, Jake.”

“Do you really hate me?”

You freeze in the doorway, heart thudding in your chest. You turn slow, your eyes meeting Jake’s before your body faces him, giving you enough time to figure out a response.

“No,” You speak carefully, “I- I was just teasing, Jake. I don’t hate you.”

“You’re sure?” He peers up anxiously at you, looking more like a scared child than a naval aviator, “You really don’t?”

“I’m sure,” You nod, gracing him with a soft smile to soothe his nerves, “I don’t hate you, Jake.” “Okay,” He breathes, his frown flattening out into a neutral expression as his eyes drink you in, “Thanks, Y/N. For taking care of me.”

“Anytime,” You promise, and you mean it more than you’ll let on, “Get some rest, Jake, we’re meeting for breakfast at nine tomorrow.”

He nods, and that’s your cue to leave. Your shoes are still by the door, and you slip them on, fiddling with the straps. When you straighten up from where you’d hunched over you spot Jake’s keys where you’d left them on his entryway table, and realize he won’t know where they are in the morning. You don’t want him to panic, so you scoop them up, knowing that his door auto-locks behind him as a part of the apartment’s security features. You’ll be able to leave without the keys, and he won’t be at risk overnight.

You pad quietly back into his room, intent on setting the keys by the glass of water and leaving. But you realize that he’s already asleep, the magic of booze eliciting soft, even breaths from him that ricochet off of the pillow he’s smushed against and blow his hair back. You stifle a giggle at the sight, and pride yourself for how much self control it takes not to record it.

You set the keys down, and your heel catches on the pizza box beneath his bed. Your nose wrinkles, and you decide there’s no good reason for Jake to be keeping old food under his bed, of all places.

You pick it up and it feels nearly empty, prompting confusion on your part. Pizza is not weightless.

Maybe you should, maybe you shouldn’t, but you decide to flip the lid open. You brace the box on his nightstand and pop the top, your eyes landing on a collection of memorabilia inside, not cheese and bread.

You recognize a chubby baby as Jake himself, a slightly aged photo that looks delicate. You bite back a soft smile, but decide that his baby pictures are none of your business, fingers ghosting over the lid to shut it once more now that you know he’s not hoarding Papa John’s beneath his mattress.

Just before the lid closes, your heart stops. Your eyes catch a picture of just about the last face you’d ever expect to see in a pizza box under Jake Seresin’s bed: your own. It’s a picture of you talking to Payback, eyes shut and crinkled at the corners, mouth open in a laugh you’re sure was less-than-graceful at whatever the other aviator had said. You pick the photo up, pushing away a jewelry box that’s lying on top of its corner, and finding dozens more of your squadron beneath it. There’s one flipped on its front, and Jake’s scrawled sharpie over it, ‘Rooster being dumb. 6-07-2022.’

Upon inspection, the photo is of Bradley making a fool of himself. He’s halfway to the ground, foot caught in the sand as he topples over. You remember that day, you’d all laughed when he’d emerged with a mustache-full of sand.

You flip the photo of yourself, brows furrowing when the description is less-than-understandable.

‘Third time. 5-03-2021.’

Third time.. Third time you’d… laughed at Payback’s jokes? Definitely not, he’s quick on his toes and surprisingly witty.

Thumbing through each photo of you and your friends, the descriptions are all simple. ‘Natasha losing a bet’ showcases her rare defeated look, and of course Jake would have that documented. ‘Fanboy exhaling lemonade’ is self-explanatory, the substance shooting out of his nose in response to the Bradley-Sand-Mustache incident. The only ones you can’t figure out are your own, ‘First time. 4-25-2020’, ‘Second time. 10-10-2020’, and even, ‘Relapse. 9-14-2022;.

For the life of you, you can’t figure them out. You realize that you’ve been sifting through Hangman’s personal possessions far longer than you should have been, stuffing them all back inside the pizza box and sliding it beneath his bed. Something strange and confusing clouds your brain as you make your way to the front door, and you barely remember to listen for the click of the automatic lock when you leave.

Your apartment isn’t far from Jake’s, it’s only a few streets down, and you’d hitched a ride with Omaha to the Hard Deck anyways. You won’t make him pick you up to drive you three blocks.

There’s something infuriating about knowing that Jake writes about you in code. It’s like a mental game, and you’re losing. You ponder it all the way back to your apartment, and you dig your own keys out of your pocket to get yourself inside.

Your determination to figure Jake’s code out only transforms into insomnia, and you fall asleep at nearly three in the morning, alarms set for five hours ahead, wondering if you’ll ever find out what they mean.

Surprisingly, for how you’d left him last night, Jake is the first one to show up to Team Breakfast. Your typical spot at the local cafe is inhabited by none other than Hangman, checking his watch to see how late everyone was running so far.

“You’re here early,” You marvel, and his head shoots up to meet your gaze. He grins sheepishly, nodding, “I had too much of a headache to go back to sleep.”

“Oooh,” You laugh, “Tough luck.”

“Yeah. Reckon’ I drank a lot last night?” He asks, already grimacing in expectation of your response.

You take a particular pleasure in nodding, “You tried kissing Bradley.”

He hadn’t, at least, not on this particular occasion. Rooster has gotten his fair share of Drunk Hangman Love, as have you all, but this time he’d stayed away from anything too intimate.

“Shit,” Hangman grimaces, screwing his eyes up and plunking his chin to his chest, “I thought you said Bob was gonna start watching out for that?”

“He did,” You snort, “He saw it about to happen, and left before you could do it to him. He watched out for himself.”

Jake mumbles something, probably along the lines of ‘typical’, but it’s as he raises his head again, and the glint of something silver at his neck catches your eye. You squint, hard, glimpsing a familiar heart-shaped pendant pressed to his chest and outlined beneath his shirt.

“Oh my god,” You laugh, “The necklace! You’re really wearing it.”

He bites back a smirk and fits his lips to the rim of his water glass instead, “I told you I’d wear it. I’m no chicken.”

“Send a picture to your mom,” You suggest, “Tell her you’ve got her heart with you.”

His smile dims, something apprehensive in his eyes.

“You went through the box under my bed last night, didn’t you?”

You still at the question, your eyes wide, “What?”

“I heard you,” He admits, “I’m- I’m not mad, or anything. I just.. I know you did.”

“I’m sorry,” Even if he’s not upset, you feel awkward, like a kid caught elbow-deep in the cookie jar, “It was none of my business, I shouldn’t have-”

“No,” He shakes his head, reaching back for the clasp on the necklace, “It was your business. Is, if..” He hesitates, face screwed up in concentration.

“Y/N,” He finally continues, necklace now pinched between his fingers, “This isn’t my mom’s.”

“Oh?” You pry cautiously, “Who’s is it, then?”

“Yours.” He admits, and your brows furrow.

“It’s not mine, I’ve never had one like that. I- I guess someone must have left it at your apartment or something, maybe Phoenix?”

“No,” He sighs, eyes screwed shut, “I mean- I mean I bought it for you.”

“You,, you bought that necklace.. for me?”

“Yeah,” He nods, “Did you see the box in there?”

You nod, recalling the teal case.

“I bought it for you for your birthday last year. Chickened out before I could give it to you, though. That’s why I had to give you half a bottle of whiskey.”

His lackluster birthday present made a lot more sense now.

“I know you saw the pictures I’ve got of you,” He continues, keeping his eyes on the pendant of the necklace that he’s pressing against his thumb, “I just thought.. I’d get everything off my chest.”

“First time..” You recall, and he raises his eyes to you questioningly.

“The pictures of me,” You prompt him, “On the back, you had little.. notes? Captions? Whatever, they said first time, second time, third time, relapse. What did those mean?”

He stares at you, the prolonged eye contact making you squirm.

“You sure you don’t hate me?” He asks, just as timid as he had the night before.

“Jake- of course I don’t hate you!” You promise, “Just- tell me, please?”

“They’re every time I fell in love with you.” He murmurs, and your entire world stops spinning. You’ve built it carefully on a foundation of Jake-directed sarcasm and a healthy distance away from your fellow aviator, and when the word ‘love’ slips from his lips the foundation crumbles. You feel everything collapse, every witty comeback, every dramatic eye-roll, every logical pushback. Nothing remains, except love. The word, the feeling, the sound of it coming from his mouth.

Apparently the demolition of your entire world takes too much time. Jake cringes, tucking the necklace into his fist and going to pocket it, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have- fuck, I should have just shut my mouth. I won’t bring it up again, we can just forget this, and-”

“Stop,” You reach for his hand, covering his closed fist with your open palm, “Give me the necklace.”

He unfurls his hand, slowly, unsurely. His eyes linger on you, and he watches as you carefully scoop the jewelry from his palm, your fingers delicately brushing over the heart.

“You really love me?” You verify, keeping your eyes on the silver charm so that if this is some sick joke, you won’t see him break the facade. You won’t see the adoration in his eyes turn to mockery, the love to hatred.

“I really do,” He promises, “And I know that I’m not the best at communicating that…”

“What with the constant teasing and badgering?” You glance up at him for the first time since his confession, your view of his face obscured by your lashes.

“Yeah,” He grimaces, “That.”

“Can I be honest with you, Jake?” You bite the inside of your cheek, regretting admitting what you’re about to say before you’ve even said it.

“Yeah,” He breathes, and you think he expects the worst.

“I kind of like it,” You admit, and his frown breaks.

“I knew it,” He gloats, his grin wide and bright, “I knew there was a reason you never say anywhere I couldn’t steal your food.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You groan, closing your fist around the necklace, “I haven’t responded to your confession yet, have I, Seresin? Don’t get too cocky.”

As much as you’re teasing him, he takes it seriously. His grin dims, and his eyes soften, worry pooling in his irises.

“I..” You start, eyes on the heart that still lies in the rips of your jeans instead of his own gaze, “I love you, too.”

“You do?” You think you’re starting to like his voice when it’s not brash and cocky, instead sincere and a little timid.

“I do,” You nod, glancing back up at him, “And.. I don’t really know what to do about that. I tried to ignore it, because we work together, and because I wasn’t sure you liked me back, but.. I do love you, Jake.”

“That,” He smiles, real and genuine, “Is something I’ve wanted to hear you say for years, darlin;.”

“Well. you should thank your inebriated self last night,” You laugh, letting him take the necklace from your fist and unclasp it, “You’re very touchy when you’re drunk, and I may or may not have seen your penis.”

“That’s.. not something I remember.” Jake grimaces, pausing with the necklace open in his hands, “Was it.. I mean- did you.. like it?”

“Quit while you’re ahead,” You advise Jake, leaning forwards so that he can wrap his arms around your neck, “I’m not talking about your dick at brunch with our friends.”

“They’re not here yet,” He murmurs, and when you lock eyes, you take in the fact that he’s only inches from your face.

There’s a soft click as he clasps the necklace against the base of your hairline, then he drops it to your neck. The chain is cold, but Jake’s hands are warm where they smooth over your cheeks. You let your lashes flutter shut, lips already slightly puckered, waiting for the press of his own over them. You can’t be but a hair’s breadth away from kissing Jake when a shrill scream comes from the parking lot, and your eyes snap open with a start.

You turn, but he doesn’t release your face, instead pressing his cheek to yours as you both look for the culprit. It’s not Natasha you find with her hands clamped over her mouth, but Rooster, though the former is smirking.

“We carpooled,” She informs you, elbowing Bradley in the side, “We were only five minutes late, and you guys have already sucked face?”

“I gave her the necklace,” Hangman reaches over to show off the charm around your neck, “I, uh- asked for Phoenix’s help buying it. I didn’t know what you’d like.”

“Thanks,” You laugh sheepishly, though you’re not sure who you’re talking to. Maybe both of them, “Uh, is that Fanboy’s car?”

It is, tires crunching against spare bits of asphalt as he turns into the parking lot.

“Coyote’s in there, too,” Hangman groans, pulling back from where you’d been smushed together, “Let’s hope they didn’t see.”

“Oh, we’ll tell them,” Natasha promises, and her laugh can only be described as maniacal, “They each owe me $20, they thought she’d say no.”

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

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blingblong55 · 11 months

Text

Talk to me- Gary "Roach" Sanderson

Based on a request:

hii!! your writing is so good and i love it so much ueueue…can i please…PLEASE…i need a few crumbs of gary roach sanderson…where he breaks his usual silence to suddenly flirt back with a gender neutral reader who had been flirting a lot with him on the comms

A/N: I know we all say and some confirm Roach is mute but let's pretend he isn't for rn.

GN!Reader, fluff?

Being friends with the quietest man on your team, Roach is a task that is harder than any other mission you've had. He is always writing in his journal, occasionally looking at you with a small smile. Soap teases him nonstop, something that Roach has gotten used to. You and he talk very rarely, in missions he only addresses you when needed. Out of all the men you work with, he is the one who is the most respectful and reserved. Ghost had that title until he started telling jokes to the team.

Price recently made the decision to send Roach with you on a mission, something that is rare considering you and Gaz are the ultimate teammates. As you board onto the Heli, Roach patiently waits his turn to get on. You two land close to the place you'll call base for the duration of the assignment. Three long months in the forest with the quietest man, nothing too much to expect.

By month 1, he had gotten used to you doing all the talking, telling him the awful jokes that only made you laugh. He had a sense you spent more time with Ghost than you admit to. During one of the times he and you went to scout for a perfect spot to use as an observational post, Gary finally said more than his typical words.

"Grim, there's a huge hole in the ground, watch your step."

"How'd you find that out?"

"Almost fell because of it."

"Thought you were smarter than that."

"Clearly not."

It was the most he had spoken since you two got into the country for the mission. To be honest, you thought he held some grudge over you but are relieved he cared for you not to fall into the hole he almost fell into. As the mission continued on, and another month passed, he made it clear he was only here for business. Which was in part annoying since you had already gotten used to the other men in your team talking nonstop.

The final night, the day you and he had to execute the mission with precision, he finally spoke more. Currently, you were climbing a tree and he hoped on comms to talk you through it.

"Don't fall."

"With that accent, who wouldn't"

"Watch it, Grim"

You laugh a little, "Oh, c'mon, let me take you on a date."

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"You ruined me asking you out." You could hear the smile in his voice.

"What a shame then."

"Very."

When you finally got off, you walked to the marked weak spots of the enemy's base. The whole time you and him were being very flirty and joking around with each other. He knew it and you knew it, it was all to keep yourself occupied over comms as you two walked through the forest, separate from the other.

"Wanna hear a joke?"

"Go ahead."

"What do you call a soldier who survived mustard gas and pepper spray?"

"What?"

"A seasoned veteran."

"You can do better."

"Ouch."

You two eventually reached the points from which you'd be camping.

"See me?"

"No."

"Boo."

"Hoo."

"Terrible, Roach"

"Says the one with the shit jokes."

"Bold of you to assume they are shit."

"Bold of you to assume they aren't."

It was 0200, only 30 minutes to go until attack time. You were bored and decided to flirt, to keep yourself going and to look forward to some better conversations after the mission.

"Roach?"

"Yes, Grim?"

"Do you fancy me like I fancy you?"

"Not one bit."

"Tell the truth."

"Oh totally in love, Grim." he chuckles

After more silence.

"Want me to dance for you like the birds do it for their potential mates?"

"You are makin' me blush, Roach" You look through your scope, watching the enemy intently.

"Anything for my potential mate."

"Better see you dance or I'll feed ya to the rookies."

"That a promise or threat?"

"Guarantee."

"Better give me a headstart, R/N."

"Aren't you fast enough to outrun them?"

"Not so young."

"Clearly."

"Respect your elders."

"Yes of course, where are my manners, Grandpa."

You hear him laugh a little, "You'll get us caught, my dear."

During the mission, he kept you in check, always asking for your current location, and wanting to hear your voice.

"Grim, how copy?"

"Head over heels for that voice, Roach."

"I do make the ladies/lads, crazy after all."

"Doubt it."

"Rude."

The mission was a success although you were nowhere in sight, which worried Roach more. He looked for you through the ashes of the explosion. Screaming your name.

"Grim, Talk to me, how copy?" Voice neutral.

-Static-

"Grim, no time to play jokes! How copy?" Distressed.

-Static-

"Grim, my dear, answer me." Desperate.

-Static-

"Grim?" Scared.

-Static-

"R/N?" Desperation seeps through.

-Static-

"R/N, how copy?" Has a clear answer you could be KIA-

"I'm here, fell into the hole you warned me about."

"'Course you did."

He didn't know it then but you heard him, listen to his words carefully. The once quiet man speaking, dancing with his words to hear you speak once again.

A/N: I hope this was...okay.

Tags: @vampsquerade

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flowersforchoso · 8 months

Text

the proposal

cw: established relationship, fluff, soft bihan

it was just midday when you heard a knock on the door.

you ignored, hoping the lack of response would be interpreted as you not being in. however, it continued and you couldn't figure out why because you weren't expecting any visitor(s). it was still early, so it bothered you a little.

another rapping and you rose from the futon. briefly combing through your hair with slender fingers to appear presentable before walking towards the door and undoing its locks, which revealed a lin kuei ninja

"greetings" he said, bowing slightly. "i hope this meeting finds you well"

"hello" you dryly replied, subtly letting it known there was no further room for pleasantries. he seemed to get the hint, going straight to the point by clearing his throat then continued

"the grandmaster wishes to see you. do accept his request"

"oh" you blinked in puzzlement since bihan never utilized his authority this way before, sending underlings to summon your presence, so this was new to you. if he wanted to see you, he knew his way here.

"alright" you say before adding, "but i will have to change first"

"come as you are" the ninja simply said, as if sensing your worries and seeking to dispel them. "it will not be necessary, since it is urgent". now this concerned you. for what could possibly warrant such urgency?

you hesitated a bit, then complied with a step forward. closing the door behind you to follow your unusual guest

the walk was silent as he led you to your destination. your mind wandered about, thinking of what to expect since it was untypical of bihan. worry began to creep in when your thoughts took a dark detour by conjuring up negative imagery of him hurt. at best, gravely injured; at worst, a corpse. which caused you to shake your head in an attempt to eject the grim and refocus elsewhere, your gaze landing on the back of your companion.

wanting to alleviate your anxieties, you initiated small talk. trying to pry your way into getting an answer "i hope he's alright, your grandmaster"

"you will find out in due time" he mumbled, shutting down your attempts; being intentionally cryptic that provided no relief. you huffed in annoyance at the needless secrecy, trudging along the path.

you arrived at the countryside with towering trees dotting the landscape, searching for bihan in the expanse and spotting him. he was waiting under an oak tree in a dark blue hanfu, an attire befitting the leader of a deadly warrior clan and you couldn't help but wonder why he was dressed so… ceremonial, as you approached him. he dismissed his underling with a nod, to leave you both

"so what is the occasion?" you inquired taking in his appearance. he looked magnificent; all grand and imposing and handsome as ever which made you feel insignificant because you paled in comparison to him.

bihan remained silent and immobile, only staring at you. as if committing your face to memory while you let out an awkward chuckle in self-depreciation, assessing yourself "i would've dressed up nicely if i knew there was one"

but he shared none of your worries. his being of an entirely different nature resulting in an almost mechanic affectation; not knowing how to act. ransacking his mind for how to say the words and weighing the implications—whether you'd be receptive to them or not. sweat trickled down his neck and the lack of response from him was worrying to you

"is everything alright?" the drop in your expression drove him into action; actualize the purpose for which you came in a slight tremble of his fingers to carefully retrieve a ring then got on one knee

"marry me" he pleaded. looking up to you for an answer, and to your astonishment. because you hadn't expected such gesture. your eyes widened like a deer in the headlights as you gasped, processing what had occurred. and when it finally hit you, yelled:"yes! yes! i will marry you"

hearing those words expelled his fears in an exhale of relief. happiness was an understatement to how he felt having diligently planned and now reaping the fruits of his labour. he rose to his feet, sliding the sapphire ring on your finger while you squealed in excitement then embraced him, feeling light from his musky scent and expression of want to eternally make you his.

"i would've kissed you if it weren't for your mask" you dreamily sighed, savoring the moment and snuggling against him.

"when we're behind closed doors, you'd have your fill" he replied, a smile coloring his voice that made you blush before detaching to make sense of his emotions from the little you could see; meeting brown eyes and lovingly peering into them

quirking an eyebrow, you ran fingers up his broad chest in playful seduction and purred, "so…what should i expect from being married to you?"

he caught your wandering hand, halting the caresses to intertwine it with his. leaning forward to repay in equal measure, sultrily whispering, "whatever you desire"

warmth flooded your cheeks, painting crimson. the words that danced on the tip of your tongue were not foreign, one he had heard countless times but were still the most valuable, coming from you "i love you"

"i wouldn't want it any other way" he confessed, the profession of your love imprinted on his soul. briefly closed his eyes to envision new beginnings. a joyous home: basking in the glow of conjugal bliss, a newborn's laughter echoing off the walls, his family growing, training his progeny when they are of age into becoming strong warriors, like him. breaking from the reverie to shelve his thoughts—since they were going to be reality anyway—to proceed to the next event of the day

"come with me, i have prepared something to mark our engagement" he announced. hands intertwined and taking you to your next destination.

#bi han x reader #bi han x you #bi han sub zero #sub zero x you #subzero x reader #mk1 bi han #mk1 sub zero x reader #bi han mk #mortal kombat 1 #fluff

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femdomlieeh · 9 months

Text

Wearing a skirt for you pt. 1 (m)

Sub!Seventeen (hyung line) x Dom!GF!Reader

WARNINGS—boys wearing skirts/dresses ✧ dom/sub dynamics ✧ praise ✧ degradation ✧ name-calling ✧ pet names (master, mistress, mommy, baby boy, kitten/kitty, prince/princess)

NOW PLAYING—Bounce Back ✧ Little Mix

SCENARIO—GF asks them if they can wear/try on a skirt

A/N. Thank you for 1500 followers<333333

Maknae line ver.

M.LISTS—random idols ✧ latest updates ✧ read on wp

✧ ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚＊* ✧ ੈ ✧

최승철 / S.Coups / seungcheol

The thing is he is open to trying any fantasy his partner might have so even if this isn't something he would bring up to you, he would totally try on a skirt or dress for you if you asked him to. That being said, he will still be a bit shy and insecure at this first experience so he would need lots of praise and reassurance to feel comfortable and have the confidence to put on a skirt/dress in the future.

"Uhm, are you sure?" he stuttered after you showed him a skirt you'd bought for him.

You answered yes.

"O-Okay," he flushed and took the garment in his hand.

He'll wear it occasionally if you ask him to do it (only if the first time went well) but he'll never initiate it. It just isn't his thing. But if he were desperate for your attention anything is possible.

...✧...✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

윤정한 / jeonghan

Jeonghan wouldn't question it at all when you brought up how you wanted to see him in a skirt/dress. Honestly he lives to please you. When you're pleased he's pleased. He'd not care that it isn't socially acceptable because he never really cared for norms or gender stereotypes anyway. Please call him your cute Prince or else he'll feel self-counscious every time he wears a skirt/dress.

"Of course, Mommy," he answered your question and let you put it on him — he liked the attention, the touching and letting you take off and put on his clothes like he was your doll.

He did a little twirl and asked with his sweet voice "Do I look cute, Mommy?"

In the future, he'll have a big collection of different styles of skirts — and he loves matching them with thigh highs. He loves feeling pretty and he loves being called pretty.

✧...✧...✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

홍지수 / joshua / josh

Joshua wouldn't believe his ears when he heard your request... He'd love it and immediately put on the skirt/dress with no problem whatsoever — he'd be pretty educated on anything about boys in skirts but don't ask him about it. Prepare your camera, he'd love to have his photo taken. Especially on a polaroid camera, so you can save the pictures in a filthy photo album.

"I look pretty, right?" he spread his legs a little, leaning forward with his arms in the middle as a pose for the picture.

"So pretty, Princess," you said as you photographed him.

He smiled and posed some more.

In the future he'll go further with it, surprising you every now and then with thigh-high socks or stockings and who knows what more. If you don't know what to buy for him as a gift, go for a blush colored little skirt.

✧✧...✧...✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

文俊辉 / jun

Total brat. Jun would make a big deal out of it just to get on your nerves. This was a fun game to him. He'd say something just to piss you off so you could punish him.

"Hmm no, Mistress. That's just stupid."

You slapped his thigh.

Suddenly he listened to you and did what you told him.

"I look better than you in this, Mistress," he smirked.

He'll use it as a way to effectively receive punishments. In fact, he might even send you a pic in a short skirt when you're at work or hanging out with friends, just to tease you so you could give him pain in the night.

✧✧✧...✧...✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

권순영 / hoshi / soonyoung

He would do anything for his Mommy. He's such a good boy for you! Being an angel for you was always one of his main priorities but he also liked being a demon every now and then. With a blush he would put on the skirt and crop top you'd bought for him in front of you just to tease you. Your eyes on him would turn him on.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" you asked as you looked him up and down.

"Is it working, Mommy?" he straddled you to make the skirt/dress rise up his naked legs.

This will be something he'll use as a tool to make you drool, surprising you in a skirt and crop top on special occasions.

✧✧✧✧...✧...✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

전운우 / wonwoo

He would be a brat about it at first but he'd put on a skirt/dress for you in the end — fuck, he'd even put on a Shrek costume if you asked him. He'd act like he totally didn't like the way the skirt made his legs look and would whimper-complain like a bitch about wearing a skirt/dress, but he also wants to keep the skirt on while you fuck him so.

"Pfft."

You spanked his ass.

Hard.

"Okay," he stripped in a second in front of you shamelessly.

"Can you put it on for me, Master, please?" he asked in a low voice and looked you in the eyes innocently.

He wasn't innocent.

Skirts will be his favorite over dresses because then you could both fuck him and play with his nipples at the same time! But he won't tell you that unless you break him down into tears and whimpers.

✧✧✧✧✧...✧...✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

이지훈 / woozi / jihoon

He would protest at first. No, he was already small and played around with — a lot at that — and that was enough. However, if you were to say he'd get a reward for just putting on a skirt/dress he wouldn't hesitate to do it.

"No, I won't do it!" he pouted.

"Not even for a reward?" you asked, as you knew his weakness.

His ears perked up, "What kind of reward are we talking about?"

"Whatever reward you want, Baby."

He'll do whatever you want if he gets rewarded. So make sure to reward him really well and he will dress up for you more often.

✧✧✧✧✧✧...✧...✧✧✧✧✧✧

❝ Baby, keep me wetter than a bayou (Bayou)

If you don't, I'ma walk right by you ❞

—Leigh-Anne Pinnock; 2019

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