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galacticgraffiti · 7 months

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⋆☾⋆ Big Love Ahead (3) ⋆☽⋆

NSFW ⋆ 18+ ⋆ Minors DNI

Summary: Feelings have been confessed, and what follows is... an explosion of the tension. Halsin thinks himself greedy when all he does is give.

Rating: Explicit Wordcount: 4.3k Descriptors: Reader is smaller than Halsin and has female anatomy. CW: Halsin eats pussy and he does it like there is no tomorrow, praise, mutual softness, talks of marking each other up, Halsin is a poet in disguise, fingering, tons of foreplay, dirty talk; TLDR: oral (f!receiving) A/N: This fic is dedicated specifically to my beloved @pinkiemme who listens to me scream about Halsin and inspires me every day with her insane skill and talent. Special shoutout to @maybege for zooming through a quick beta-read for me- ily!

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Chapter 3: The Lover

You are in heaven.

Halsin’s head is buried between your thighs, and there is nothing else you can think about but his tongue and his lips and his fingers and his nose and… him, just him and him and him.

Cold, hard stone digs into your back, but you don’t care as your fingers grab Halsin’s hair tighter, pulling at him, guiding him. He follows your silent commands easily, moaning as he buries his tongue deeper inside you.

You whine and whimper, hitting your head almost too hard as you let it fall back, trying to keep some tension in your body so you don’t slide down the wall.

****

Halsin had undressed you slowly, so slowly, as if you were not on fire by the mere idea of his touch. His skin kept rippling with golden shimmers, his eyes glowing in the dim light as his hands peeled layer after layer of clothing from you until you were bare before him.

“You, my heart, are… exquisite.” His voice is even more gravelly than usual, and you have to fight off the urge to press your thighs together as his eyes travel all over your vulnerable form.

“So beautiful,” he whispers as he leans down to kiss you. “The flowers already sing songs of your beauty as they grow, and the trees will whisper poems of my love for you for centuries to come. The grass will remember where we laid in it, and the stone where our hands touched it.”

“You’re sappy,” you laugh, relaxing a little at the way he looks at you. Like you hung the moon in the fucking sky. “I adore you with all my heart, do you know that? My sweet bear.”

The growl that escapes him makes you quiver, his legs trembling as he fights for control.

“You-“ he interrupts himself, pressing up against you, larger than life, warmer than the sun. “Your tongue is dangerous, little flower. It’ll get you into trouble one of these days.”

You smile at him and pull him down for a kiss.

“Oh, I certainly hope so.”

Halsin groans, his tongue hot in your mouth, his hands all over you, roaming, caressing, grabbing-

And suddenly you’re hoisted up, your back pressed against ice cold stone, your legs struggling to wrap around Halsin’s middle. You gasp, overwhelmed by how sudden, how easy it seems for him to move you like this. Halsin carries you as if you weigh nothing at all. He puts you down on your bed so gently, kneeling to kiss the inside of your thigh with lips that make you shake from their touch.

His eyes are golden when he looks up at you, pulling at you until your thighs rest on his shoulders, his face pressed nearly where you need him. He hums and shivers, but he keeps control. For now.

“You smell good,” he mumbles, his soft lips moving against the sensitive skin of your thigh. “My flower, my very own. You smell heavenly- tell me you’ll let me taste you. Let me taste the honey of your thighs and I’ll never ask for anything again.”

Your cheeks burn, but you dig your heels into the muscles of his back, burying your hands in his long hair to hold onto him for dear life.

“Yes,” you whisper breathlessly, “Of course, my love, anything you want to, anything and it’s yours. You never have to ask for anything again- I’ll be here. I’ll provide whatever you want willingly, eagerly. I’ll never make you ask for anything again, I’m all yours, my love.”

Halsin smiles so softly that your heart stops beating for a moment.

“Mhhhm.” His lips leave a searing path on your skin where they touch you, travelling up and up your thighs, his hands holding you steady and pulling you closer. “I have to know if you taste as good as you smell, my heart. Let me…”

When you look down at him, you can see the face of the bear in the face of the man, his teeth nearly fangs, his fingers almost claws. It only makes you love him more.

“Taste me then,” you murmur, easing the grip of your hands in his hair, tilting your hips as best you can. “I want you, my love. I want to feel you- I want to be known by you, I want to be everything you need, just like you are to me. My bear, my beautiful strong bear...”

Halsin shudders, his entire body bathed in a golden glow. He exhales slowly, his kisses growing languid on their path to the apex of your thighs.

“Dangerous,” he mumbles. “I knew it. What would you do if the bear came out to play, hm? It’s- you have no idea how hard it is to control myself when I have you here- so willing, so eager- everything I want laid out right before me, my beautiful angel asking to be tasted-“

“If the bear wants that as well…” you hesitate for a moment trying to find the right words. “I’m yours, whichever form you may be in. My desire is for you and you alone; no more, no less. The bear can have me just as the man can.”

Halsin makes a soft noise in the back of his throat, trembling against you, his fingers digging into your thighs with sharper nails than they should have.

“Silvanus have mercy,” he growls, voice so low you can feel the walls of the cave shake around you. “To see you with those eyes- touch you with those claws- you would take it? For me?”

Gently, you unwrap your legs from him, and he gets the hint, sitting up straighter between your thighs. You pull at his shoulders until your noses touch. He’s so tall he can barely fit between your legs like this, but you don’t mind. No, you don’t mind at all.

You cup his jaw in your hand that seems too small to be real in comparison to his sheer size. Halsin nuzzles his face into the touch and kisses your palm. You smile.

“My love,I would take anything I could get as long as it’s from you,” you whisper softly. “You are… all I want. If you lose control- if it all gets too much- we can stop… or we can keep going. I’m fine with either just so long as you are.”

Halsin growls, a sound that makes your teeth vibrate now that he is so close to you. You think you can feel yourself drip as slick gathers between your thighs at the sound.

His hand comes up to hold your face, and you nuzzle into the touch just as he did with you.

“I shall try to contain myself, my heart,” he sighs. “…for now.”

“Mhhm.” You smile at him, and his eyes are so full of affection you can’t breathe. “You are wonderful, Halsin. I hope you know that- I hope you know how much I mean that when I say it. You are the best man I have ever known, the best person I could have dreamed of meeting.”

He pulls you in for a kiss, soft, but full of passion, your tongue in his mouth, his hands in your hair. A coil forms in your belly from his touch alone. When he pulls back, you tug at his shirt.

“Take this off for me? I want to see you.”

“Anything for you, my flower.” He pulls the shirt off easily, and you watch his movement with a hunger you didn't know you could feel, burning in your chest, igniting a wild fervour in your belly. An expanse of skin is revealed to you: the broadness of his shoulders, the soft hair on his chest, to roundness of his belly. You cherish every inch of him that you get to see. Halsin’s hands settle on your thighs again, covering them almost entirely, and you wonder what it would be like to carry the marks of his love on your skin.

Your cheeks heated from the thought, you can’t keep quiet anymore, you have to tell him, you have to-

“Don’t hold back,” you whisper. “Let me feel how strong you are, my beautiful bear. I would be proud to carry the evidence of your love on my skin- to feel it every time I moved.”

Halsin’s teeth are sharp like fangs when he grins at you.

“I’ll be as gentle as I can be, but… I wouldn't be opposed to seeing you covered in my fingerprints, little flower. Nor to my own back bearing the marks of your… excitement, if you were so inclined.”

You choke on air when his hands slip under your ass to pull you even closer to his face. Halsin produces a pillow from somewhere, stuffing it under your back, his eyes never leaving yours. The desire in his look burns you up, it sets you aflame. All you want to do is make him happy.

When you tell him that, his smile is blinding and his eyes glow like molten gold in the dim light.

“You make me happy all the time, my heart. I have not felt this much joy in decades, and then I found you.” Golden sparks dance in his hair when he kisses you again. “Now the only thing that could make me happier than I am in this moment would be tasting you. I have waited so long.”

You kiss his face, his jaw; the palms of his hands; anything you can possibly reach. Anything to make him feel as worshipped and loved as you feel beneath his touch.

“You have been so patient - more patient than I myself have been. If that is what you desire,” you whisper, letting yourself fall so easily in his presence, “... well, who would I be to deny you? I would give you everything I have and all that I am in a heartbeat.”

He kisses your thighs, sharp fingers digging into soft skin. His lips are soft and warm, and the contrast of his mouth that treats you so gently and the strength of the hands that hold you in place has you trembling.

He teases you just a little- taking his time, caressing you, his breath hot on your dripping cunt though he does not touch you just yet. You whine and moan and arch your hips until you feel him smile against you.

“This is what you want?” he asks again, his voice rough with desire.

“You are what I want.” You smile and cup his jaw in your hand. His eyes are aflame and his teeth sharper than they should be, but it does not scare you. It only confirms that you are what he wants, and all you feel is lust and deep affection. “Please, Halsin. I need to- I want to feel you.”

“Then you shall have me, my heart.”

Pleasure drowns out everything else when he finally puts his mouth on you. You sigh- already nearly a moan, the tension finally breaking only to build and build when you allow yourself to realise what is happening. This is Halsin; the mighty druid, on his knees for you, moaning into you as his tongue laps up the arousal that drips down your thighs.

You arch your back and press your cunt up into his face. Halsin groans, hands wrapping around your waist as he pulls at you, burying his tongue between your parted legs.

“You are the sweetest thing,” he breathes, “the sweetest thing I have tasted in all my centuries. You are- gods have mercy- I could drown in you and never come up for air. Nature must have had me in mind when it made you, sweet as honey with a voice that could make nightingales cry- and you have never sounded so sweet as you do when you moan for me.”

“Mhhm… go on.” You are practically purring like a wild cat under his touches, your body vibrating with tension and excitement. “I’m all yours, my love.”

“All mine,” he mumbles. His fingers seem to glow from the inside when he squeezes your hips. “All mine, and sweet as honey. Nature truly has outdone itself with you, my flower.”

You shiver, then moan when Halsin dives back down to press his flattened tongue against your clit. Your legs fall open even wider and you tilt your hips up to meet him. He growls in a way that reminds you of the bear inside him, and the thought only makes you wetter.

“Make me come for you, bear,” you moan. “Please, I want to come for you- I want your tongue buried inside me when I do, I want to taste myself on you when I kiss you while you fuck me. Please- Halsin, please-”

You can feel him shake with the strain of keeping his human shape, but his tongue is stroking your clit in just the right way and you can’t stop the litany of filth that falls from your lips.

“Just like that, my love- oh gods, oh- oh, fuck, fuck, do that again… again- have mercy, you’re too good at this, my love. D-don’t ever listen to me when I tell you to stop, I want you to keep doing this f- oh- forever, I never want to…”

Halsin does not hide how much he is enjoying himself. His fingers are digging into your soft flesh with bruising force, and he moans and growls unashamedly as he eats you out like a man starved.

The moans that fall from your lips, the filthy noises it produces when he runs his tongue through the wetness of your cunt- everything echoes in the small cave and makes you feel the sensations thousandfold. Halsin’s eyes fly open when you gently tug at his hair, quietly asking for more. He obliges, his nose pressing against your clit as he fucks you with his tongue, large hands keeping you right where he wants you, squeezing and holding. He takes no breaks, like he needs not air but only you to survive, and the coil in your belly starts to tighten with each stroke of his tongue.

“Let me hear you,” he breathes, barely raising his face from between your legs. “Let me hear you, my heart, tell me what feels good.”

“You feel good,” you whimper, your head light with pleasure. “It’s like you can tell- like you know exactly what I need. Halsin- H- fuck, oh gods, right there, you- mh- you are so good to me, so good to me… I wanna come on your tongue, my love, please let me- please make me- gods, I want everything with you, I want to be filled until I can’t move, I want your bruises on my thighs and to have you inside me all day and all n-night - fuck - to be yours and only yours, my bear, my bear Halsin-”

His growl this time is distinctly animalistic, and when you open your eyes, Halsin’s whole body is coated in golden light, glowing from the inside out, his eyes illuminating your skin.

“You will be my ruin, angel,” he groans. “Your words will make me come undone before you even touch me- to taste you, to be the reason of your ecstasy is all I have wanted for so long. Come for me, my heart, be good and come for me so I can fill you the way you deserve to be filled, be yours and- make you mine, just as nature intended.”

His mouth descends onto you again, licking and sucking, his tongue pressing against you in a way that makes lightning run through your body. You cry out and buck your hips, and Halsin repeats the movement, over and over and over until you are right at the edge of pure bliss.

“For me,” he groans into you, his voice making your whole body vibrate. “For me, come for me, little flower.”

He closes his lips around your clit and sucks, and in an explosion of ecstasy, you are done for faster than you can warn him.

“Bear, I'm going to- f-fuck- don’t st- Halsin!”

The pleasure sweeps you off your feet. Nothing could have prepared you for an orgasm like this - sudden and all-encompassing, so intense it nearly borders on pain as you arch your hips and curl your fingers into Halsin’s hair. His tongue laps at you, drinking in every last drop of you until your legs shake uncontrollably and you are begging him to stop.

When you manage to open your eyes and unclasp your hands from the sheets, Halsin is grinning up at you mischievously, his face wet with you, his eyes still glowing as he licks his lips.

“The sweetest honey I have ever tasted.” He laps at your cunt again and you shudder. A new wave of arousal buries you at the feeling of his tongue inside you as he looks up at you.

“You-” your voice is barely more than a breath. “You are incredible, my love, do you know that? Fuck- oh, don’t- please, it’s so much-”

Halsin pulls back, a smile still wrinkling the corners of his eyes.

“I thought you never wanted me to stop, my heart.”

In the time it takes you to wring an answer from your blissed out brain, a new coil has already begun to form deep in your belly at the mere thought of being touched by him once more. Your brain stumbles over the words, and while Halsin is not touching you, the promise of More hangs so heavy in the air it’s enough to make you shake with anticipation.

Halsin’s voice breaks the fog that has settled on your mind.

“Are you lost for words, little flower? Already?”

“D-don’t tease me,” you breathe shakily. “You know your skill well-”

“Hmm, I’ve had centuries to practise. Your body is… a miracle. As if nature intended you for me, all this time.”

Halsin sits up between your legs, kissing your thighs. You stretch out your arms to him.

“Come here, my love. Let me kiss you.”

“No hardship for me,” he laughs, pushing himself up on the bed and settling against you. “You did so well for me, my heart. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen and your voice moaning my name is the most exquisite song nature has ever devised.”

Your cheeks flush with heat, and you bite your lip. You can feel his hard length pressing against your thigh, yet here he is, singing your praises without expecting anything in return.

“You are too good to me,” you sigh. “And yet here I am, still wanting more.”

Halsin cocks his head, mischief sparkling in his eyes.

“More?”

“Mmhm.”

When he bends down to kiss you, you half expect a gentle kiss and the promise of more some other time, but you are wrong. His lips are searing, and when he pulls back, his eyes are pure fire, his fingers claws as he rips them from your body.

“Please.” You are begging - you are pleading. Nothing in the world could make you want to stop in this moment. “Go on, my love. I want to feel you- I want to have you inside me, and I want to make you feel good the way you did for me.”

Halsin growls and twitches, hands slamming down on either side of your head, his large body hovering above you.

“Once I start, I might- what if I can't stop?” He sounds nearly afraid. “It’s been so long, my heart. Have you any idea the way my blood burns at the mere thought of getting to fill you, getting to make you mine?”

You stroke his face.

“I trust you,” you whisper. You run your hand down the expanse of his back, feeling the muscles ripple under your touch as sparks of wild magic dance across Halsin’s body. “If I ask you to stop, you will. Though… I can’t imagine I would ever want you to.”

The groan that escapes from his throat sounds almost pained. Halsin buries his face in the crook of your neck, lowering himself down until you can feel his cock drag against your soaked cunt when he moves.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “Fuck- bear, please… please.”

A shiver runs through him at the urgency in your voice.

“Ask me again,” he groans, hips bucking into you, his arms shaking. You loop your hands around his neck and pull him down to you until your lips nearly touch.

“Fuck me,” you say, quiet but firmly. “...please, bear. Halsin-”

The breath is punched from your lungs when he kisses you, his lips searing, panting and moaning into the kiss as he rocks into you.

His hand slips between your bodies, two fingers dipping inside you and the glow in his eyes intensifies.

“My heart- you are one of nature’s great wonders. You feel-” he breaks off as his fingers press deeper and you arch your back to meet his movement.

He fucks you open slowly, patiently - first two fingers, thicker than three of your own, and when you whine and plead and beg for more; he gives you three. You sigh and whimper, calling out his name between sounds of pleasure.

Halsin knows exactly what you need - what your body needs. His fingers curl just right, and the smile on his face is one of pure joy. He watches as you lose yourself in the feeling of him, as you grind down your hips to somehow take more, as your hands grip the sheets until your knuckles pale. He praises you through it, his voice soft and gentle and full of awe.

You are not a god, but you have never felt more worshipped.

It’s a lot - so much you have to hold back tears of pleasure. Halsin slows for a moment, noticing your tension, but you beg him to go on and he obliges, his motions smooth and assured.

“The stars pale in comparison to your beauty,” he whispers, kissing your shoulder, your jaw, your face, while his hands never stop moving. “Nature has made you immaculate, has made you its boldest creation, the crown jewel of its heavenly bodies. To have you here with me… to get to feel you around me and see your face shine with the pleasure I can bring you- it’s more than I deserve, more than I ever thought I would get.”

His words make your heart stumble, but your body gives you no break to respond as your legs start to shake and the heat in your belly nearly explodes. You are shaking all over, your mind just as desperate as your body. Halsin’s fingers inside you make you feel so full already, and the way he looks at you makes you tremble with affection.

The hard length of his cock presses against your thigh once more when he shifts. Nothing in Halsin’s face betrays how painfully hard he must be- how desperate he must be for release. You want to feel him- you have to feel him inside you, you want to know what it is like- you want to see his face blossom with the same bliss he brings you, and the thought of that brings you to the edge again.

“Halsin-” you breathe, gripping his biceps with an iron grip, writhing beneath him. “Halsin- my love- please, if you keep doing this, I’m going to-”

“Good.” His brow is shining with sweat, and the expression on his face is something between hunger and bliss. “Good. Because I want more.”

Your head is foggy with pleasure, but that notion parts the veil around you for a moment.

“More?” Your voice sounds brittle next to his deep baritone. “Then-”

“Mhhm.” he hums, working his fingers deeper, grinding down against the bed. “More. Give me one more and I’ll have you, my heart. Just as it was intended, just one more is all I need…”

Your head falls back as you cry out, your legs starting to shake. He curls his fingers just so, and stars flicker through your vision.

“Don’t stop,” you pant. “Don't- anything, my love, I’ll do anything- just d-don’t stop, please, please I want to feel you, I want to know- I have to know what it is like to be full with you…”

Halsin grunts, curling his fingers again and again as soft lips kiss your jaw, your neck, your breasts.

“Then come for me,” he commands gently. “You can do that, can’t you? Let me be greedy just this once…”

That nearly does you in. After all that, he still thinks himself greedy for wanting to bring you pleasure?

“Fuck!” Your blissed out brain has such a way with words. “Fuck, bear- I’m gonna-”

The palm of his hand presses against your cunt as he sinks his fingers impossibly deeper, and then, all at once, you are done for. You can feel yourself gush, wetness dripping from Halsin’s fingers as you die a thousand little deaths of ecstasy, your mind exploding into bolts of lightning.

Vaguely, you perceive Halsin’s calm voice talking, speaking to you as if through a cloud.

After a few moments, you realise it is not only you he is speaking to. He is calming himself down, willing the bear to stay dormant. Your walls flutter weakly, and when you open your eyes, Halsin is smiling down at you.

“You did so well for me, little flower. Never have my eyes seen anything more beautiful than you, and I doubt they ever will again.”

You blink slowly, trying to ground yourself back in reality. When you move, you hear the sound his fingers make when they glide out of you, and heat rises in your cheeks. He has given you so much, and yet all you want is…

“More?”

Halsin’s smile lights up the room.

“You, my heart, are insatiable.” He kisses you, his lips soft on yours, his tongue greedy in your mouth. “I’m glad you are- so am I.”

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sugarnspice630 · 5 months

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Jealousy is the Best Form of Punishment - Yunho + San

"Darling, you know how when we’re hanging around the guys and I, softly place my hand around your neck? Have you ever noticed that San can’t stop staring at you when we do this?”

•pairing: dom!yunho x sub!fem!reader + sub!san

•word count: 1.5 k

•tags: mdni, suggestive, choking kink out the wazoo (f receiving), San's a little horn-ball, Yunho is a jealous boyfriend, praise kink, slight degradation, sex implied but not written out, lots of eye contact, voyeurism

Summary: Yunho teases reader by slightly choking them while hanging around the members, San can't control his eyes and Yunho notices, causing him to drag the both of you into his room and teaching him and you a lesson.

A/N: Inspired by this post I saw from my dear friend @shinestarhwaa (ily pookie!) Please be sure to drop a like, reblog if you enjoyed it, and comment your favorite part! Happy reading!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆───

It started out as an innocent joke. Yunho would gently place his hand on your neck when around the members and occasionally give it a slight squeeze. Nothing too harsh, just a firm grip to cause you to get dizzy for a few seconds. Since he has naturally big hands, his fingers would reach perfectly around the sides, applying pressure to your sweet spots. Yunho knew you were into choking, and damn was he good at it. San was not oblivious to these minor gestures. He saw how flushed your cheeks would get every time his hand came near your neck, and that look of bliss on your face when he applied the slightest pressure to your neck. Although you were happily taken by Yunho and had been for a long time, San couldn’t help the thoughts he had about you since you first started hanging around the members more often. He thought you were very attractive, and the looks on your face when Yunho would jokingly choke you definitely did not help his situation. On the flip side, Yunho saw San’s reactions every time he did that to you. The way his eyes fleeted back and forth between his hand wrapped around your neck and watching the expression on your face morph, softly biting the inside of his lip and his eyes darkening. Yunho is most definitely the jealous type, so he would lightly choke you every chance he could get to show San that you belonged to him and no one else.

–

Yunho got home one day and found San sitting on the couch, playing his video games. He was going to confront San peacefully about his observations.

“San, can I talk to you for a second?” Yunho said in a monotone voice with no expression on his face.

“Sure hyung! I’ll be there in a sec.” San replied as he was finishing up the round he was playing. Yunho nodded softly and walked into his bedroom. When Yunho walked in, he saw you sitting on his bed, playing on your phone. You looked up at him with a big smile. Sitting your phone on the bed, you got up and wrapped your arms around his waist to hug him.

“Hey handsome! What are you doing back so early?” Yunho placed his finger over your lips to silence you with a soft “shh” coming out of his mouth. Your eyebrows contorted, and you looked up at him, confused.

“Baby, I’m about to do something and I need you to not get mad or upset about it. Okay?”

Confused as hell by what he could be doing, you softly nodded your head, still with a confused expression on your face, trusting Yunho that you would be in good hands (haha). Not too long after your brief conversation, San walks in.

“Everything alright hyun-?” San stops his sentence when he sees you in the room, as well as Yunho. “Y-Y/N! I didn’t know you were here!” San’s expression becomes nervous as he looks at Yunho. His throat becomes dry, and he swallows his spit to try and alleviate it. Fumbling with his hands, San finally opens his mouth again. “W-what did you need me for Yun-?”

“Sit down.” Yunho barks at San and tilts his head toward the chair in his room. San nods a few times before making his way over to the chair, his eyes not leaving you or Yunho. You turn to Yunho and notice the slight angry expression on his face. Your heart sinks down into your stomach at the cold expression he’s giving.

"Yunho, what’s going on?"

“Quiet Y/N.” Yunho pauses for just a moment, glaring at San one more time before turning to you, placing his hands on your hips, and turning you to face him. “San thinks it’s all fine and dandy to stare at something that isn’t his.” Your eyes go between staring at his right eye and his left eye. Yunho’s eyes darkening as you keep staring at each other. “Darling, you know how when we’re hanging around the guys and I, softly place my hand around your neck?” Yunho’s movements follow his words, acting out his speech. Your heart rate increases slightly as Yunho’s hand gets closer to your neck. You dare not break eye contact with Yunho right now. “Giving you the gentlest of squeezes, right on your sweet spots? Causing you to see a hint of stars?”

Yunho’s eyes glance over at San, and he can see the younger member struggling to keep himself together. Harshly biting his lip, his legs crossed to hide the slight erection forming in his pants, gripping the arms of the chair so hard that his knuckles are white. Yunho smirks and directs his attention back to you. Your cheeks are perfectly flushed and eyes droopy just the slightest bit.

“I asked you a question. It’s nice to respond, you know?” Yunho grips your neck a little tighter, causing your mouth to drop open and let out the softest whimper.

“Y-Yes Yunho! I-I’m sorry! I know what you mean."

“Good girl~. Have you ever noticed that San can’t stop staring at you when we do this?”

Completely forgetting that San was also in the room with you guys, you softly turn your head as much as Yunho’s hand would let you and see San struggling to stay still. His foot is now bouncing up and down, legs still crossed, but one of his hands has left the arm of the chair and is now placed in his lap, right where his crotch would be. Fidgeting like a nervous dog.

“Princess! Stop ignoring my questions!” Yunho’s booming voice echoed in your ears, causing you to turn back to him quickly.

“S-sorry! Y-Yes I have noticed!” Yunho inches closer to your face, leaning in toward your ear.

“How does that make you feel~?" You had to think for a moment because in all honesty, it made you feel good, but how could you tell Yunho that? You were beyond thrilled when he started to show more risque public displays of affection around the members. You wanted to know what they really thought of you. How many of them secretly liked you or what they would do to you behind closed doors when Yunho wasn’t there to claim you for himself?

“M-makes me feel good sir!” You closed your eyes in fear of what his reaction would be to your honesty.

“Good huh?” He paused for a few seconds to let your answer sink in. “Didn’t think my girlfriend was such an attention-seeking whore."

The grip around your neck tightens and your arms wrap around and come up Yunho’s back and grip onto the shirt he’s wearing. You tilt your head back and let out a choked moan. The sensation of him squeezing your airways shut was so intoxicating and you genuinely could never get enough of it. The thought of Yunho being in control of your breathing drove you insane. His grip around your neck loosens, and you take a deep breath. Eyes opening up to see Yunho smirking menacingly at you. You don’t break eye contact for a few seconds until Yunho looks back over at San and sees what a mess he’s becoming. Yunho chuckles softly and turns your head for you to look at him.

“What a mess he’s becoming, and it’s all because of you. Isn’t that so special~?” You can’t help but notice San is now rutting his hips into his hand, trying to provide some stimulation in his situation. His lip appears red and swollen because of how hard he’s been biting it this whole time. His face is lightly covered in sweat and he’s breathing heavily.

“Fuck…d-don’t look at me like that Y/N, p-please.” He mutters out, his eyes focused on you staring at him in his desperate state. His eye twitches, and he pants out as he continues to push his hips into his hand.

“S-San.” You calling out his name caused him to whimper softly and lean forward a bit to try to get closer to what he was seeing in front of him. Seeing him act like this sent a wave of heat down to your core. You never knew he was this down bad for you.

“He so desperately wants to cum. Do you think we should let him?”

“W-We?” You stutter out, surprised that Yunho is giving you an option. Looking back at San, you can see him nodding his head profusely and whispering ‘please’ a thousand times. “Yes Yunho.” You say while staring at San, and you watch as his eyes light up and he quickly unzips his pants and whips his dick out. Before you could look any harder at San’s cock, Yunho pushes you down on the bed and sits his weight on top of you. His hair falls gently over his face, and his expression gets darker.

“He can deal with himself over there, but now I have to deal with you for acting like a whore all the fucking time.” He growls through gritted teeth as he unzips his and your pants, pulls yours down along with your underwear, and does the same for him. Pinning your hands above your head and holding them together with one of his massive hands. You knew you were in for a night of trouble.

Tags: @pre1ttyies @isiloiale

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urgonnaneedabiggership · 11 months

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And All The Fears You Hold So Dear

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse) x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language. Angst. Unplanned Pregnancy. Mild violence. Also there's like a smidge of nsfw talk there but thought I'd let you know beforehand just in case.

Word count: 4.3K

A/N: Part Three and Final Installment of something that started as a one-shot and somehow escalated into this¿¿

I just want to thank you for all your very kind comments and let you know that I got a couple requests that I'll be working on, so this might not be the last you see of me. Ily <3

also i cried so much writing this now you have to suffer like i did. xo

Right after the tears finally stopped coming, the emotional exhaustion translated into an intense weariness that made you collapse on the sofa. That hour spent out of consciousness was a blissful interlude in the pain that had your chest hurting and leaving you unable to breathe. You’d once read somewhere that there was something called “phantom limb syndrome” in which people could feel pain in an amputated hand, arm, or leg. When you woke up, you looked out at the now dark sky and thought of giving Miguel a call to tell him about what an awful day you were having until the memories came back like a harrowing tsunami that had you tearing up when you wondered for how long you’d have to keep reminding yourself that he wasn’t there anymore. This time, however, you became angry. And oddly self-assured.

You didn’t need him. You’d given him a choice, and if a sad, pitiful, lonely life was what he wanted, then good riddance. His loss.

You could do this. Jessica’s pregnancy hadn’t stopped her after all. Sure, it would be challenging but there were mothers out there who took care of one or more children and balanced several jobs didn’t they? So what if you moonlighted as a vigilante whose life was on the line every day? What if you’d have to spend the rest of your life protecting him or her from the bunch of fairly dangerous enemies you’d made in the past months?

Or maybe you didn’t have to.

Your eyes wandered off to your suit which you’d mindlessly thrown on the floor the second you’d arrived home, scrutinizing the details and the care that you’d put into creating it. You wondered what it would look like inside a box, hidden in the back of the closet for years, or until your kid stumbled upon it and asked about mommy’s dutifully hidden past.

An obnoxious beeping sound coming from between the cushions snapped you out of your fantasy as you fished your watch. You hadn’t even realized you’d taken it with you and now it was issuing a warning concerning an anomaly with an amazing timing that had decided to pop into your dimension.

Placing a hand on your stomach, you looked out of the window and doubtfully pressed your lips together.

“Shit. Please, let it be a Vulture that’s literally a vulture, please,” you pleaded with whatever deity chose to listen to you as you picked up your suit and rushed to the bathroom, mindlessly throwing the test into the trash can before pulling the mask over your head.

Unfortunately, you didn’t arrive at the location to find a confused scavenging bird flapping around. You weren’t even sure of what you’d been sent to capture. At the scene, several police cars had formed a barricade outside of an empty warehouse and seemed to be lying in wait, aiming at the door with their guns. Good. That meant you could get in there and set things straight with the unwanted visitor before anybody got hurt.

You stealthily made your way from a nearby ledge to the roof, finding your way in through a broken skylight and landing on top of a pile of metallic crates solid enough to hold your weight but making your entrance noisier than you would’ve liked.

Whatever you were looking for, it was nowhere to be seen. The warehouse was in such darkness that, if it wasn’t for the night-vision lenses Miguel had fitted into your mask, you wouldn’t be able to see further than your own nose. They had come in pretty handy, and you couldn’t believe you’d been so opposed to getting them.

“(Y/N) it’s just one small modification, give me one reason not to.”

“Because you’ve already done too much!”

“Oh come on, it will take me what? Twenty minutes?”

“No, I don’t mean it like that. I mean you’ve done too much to my suit, Miguel. First, the emergency parachute, next the spine and nape reinforcements, then you literally said ‘You know what? How about we just redo the whole thing with fireproof fabric?’ and now another modification?”

“He added memory foam insoles too, said you wouldn’t notice, I’m with you on this one” Lyla chimed in.

You pressed your lips together to fight back a satisfied smile while Miguel glared daggers at the AI assistant, who refused to back down.

“She still remembers please and thank you, alright?”

“Lyla, will you please go check if there’s a faulty connection or a leaky pipe somewhere? Thank you.”

After throwing a sickly sweet smile his way, she vanished.

“Alright then,” Miguel continued arguing, “I’m sorry for offering to install state-of-the-art, potentially lifesaving enhancements to your suit. What was I thinking, not wanting my girlfriend to die?”

He lifted his hands in defeat and retreated to the other side of the room, minimizing the digital blueprints of the new glasses.

“And for the record,” He continued, “I didn’t do all the work for your new suit, you designed it, remember? I had no idea of what a ‘basque waistline’ was,”

When he finished talking, he was surprised to hear absolutely nothing coming from your side. Furrowing his eyebrows, he turned to see you still leaning against the metallic table on top of which your suit rested. You were staring at him with a surprised expression that only baffled him further when he noticed the bright blush spreading around your cheeks and down to your neck. Then it dawned on him.

“Oh shit, I’ve never called you that before, have I?”

“No, you haven’t,”

Of course, that small window of vulnerability was all he needed.

“Please let me put the lenses on your suit?”

What he didn’t know was that you can see both ways through a window. When he earnestly pleaded with you to let him install the stupid attachment, his true motives were as clear as if you’d heard them straight from his mouth.

Last time I wasn’t careful enough. I didn’t plan ahead. If something happens to you and I have the slightest notion that I didn’t do absolutely everything in my power to keep you safe…please. Do this for me, would you? For my own, selfish peace of mind?

And he’d been right. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw something dart from behind one container to the next one.

“I see you,” You announced, rolling your shoulders as your Spider-Sense began acting up, “Listen, you’re probably feeling confused right now and if you come out we could…”

You couldn’t even finish the sentence as something heavy and cold tackled you onto the ground. Instinctively, you rolled over just in time for something sharp the size of a harpoon to stab the ground next to your head strong enough to pierce the concrete. Without wasting one more second, you jumped on top of a container to take a better look at whatever the hell that was just to find that same spot completely empty. Whatever it was, it was fast. Wincing at the sharp pain in your shoulder, you reminded yourself you had to be more careful and avoid taking strong hits like that.

However, you couldn’t afford to be distracted right now. And, as if to affirm that thought as quickly as it came, your sense warned you of something coming at you from behind. Before it could take you by surprise again, you swiftly moved out of the way and shot webs twice to try and pin it down so you could at least take a good look at what you were up against.

“What in the…?” You gasped as you stared at what you’d captured. Before you, a 20-foot-long pale yellow scorpion furiously trashed about as it tried to free itself from your webs. Not even five seconds after you spotted it, the critter broke free of its restraints and disappeared behind another container. Well, reasoning and trying to bring him in peacefully wasn’t going to work with this one. For now, you knew that it was going to try and keep attacking you, so the best you could do for now was to keep an eye on him before he could plunge that hideous stinger through your forehead. Especially since the little shit was remarkably fast. What was that thing Miguel always told you to do?

“No, remember. You’ve got to think further, think two steps ahead,”

“You know, Miguel, repeating that a million times isn’t going to suddenly give me the ability to see ten seconds into the future,” you muttered, taking the hand he reached out to help you get up. With a wince, you placed a hand on your shoulder and rolled it until it popped.

“It’s not about seeing into the future, (Y/N), it’s about finding unprotected spots and patterns,”

“How come outside I’m love, gorgeous or mi chiquita preciosa de ojitos bonitos, but the minute we’re in here I’m back to being (Y/N),”

“First of all, that last one never happened, we agreed on it, I was in…a vulnerable…”

“You were drunk, you can say it, I won’t tell,”

He glared at you in a way you knew meant ‘won’t you?’. Hopefully, he’d never find out you’d told Peter every last detail of his drunken silliness as soon as you had the chance.

“Second of all, here you’re just like anybody else. You mean nothing to me and I mean nothing to you because that’s how the attackers are going to see you, as an obstacle to get out of the way. Now focus. I’m going to attack you again,”

While knowing beforehand he was going to come at you gave you some advantage, you managed to block the blow he launched at your head. Before he could try again, you noticed his next attempt at an attack was leaving his legs completely exposed. Then, you did what Jess had taught you to do whenever you faced somebody taller than you: go for the knees. You crouched and, with a classic foot sweep, managed to make him lose his balance just enough for you to hook your legs on either side of his and take him down.

You were so tired you couldn’t even gloat properly, instead settling for smiling to yourself and releasing a short, triumphant, ‘ha!’ with your last breath before crawling over to him and sitting next to his lying body.

“You know, if I’m supposed to think two movements ahead,” You say, a beckoning look in your eyes, “I think it’s safe to predict you’re going tell me that there’s nothing more you can teach me, and then carry me to your quarters to do absolutely unspeakable things to me,”

Honestly, it had been stupid of you to think he would give up that easily. Not even two seconds later, it was your back that was pressed against the floor as his large frame covered you, and his hand held your wrists on top of your head. Then he leaned in, painfully slowly, until he was close enough for you to feel the heat that radiated from his skin, a low chuckle left his throat.

“Chula, you don’t know half of all the things I can teach you. But this isn’t the place for most of them. Let’s get moving.”

Thankfully, you forced your brain to focus on the matter at hand before it could replay the entire memory.

Two steps ahead (Y/N), come on.

That thing always attacked with the stinger first. Then it would probably try to immobilize you with its pincers. Quickly tracing a plan inside your head, you started to roam the dark warehouse looking for the missing critter, your spider-sense as sharp as ever as you looked behind every crate and container only to find nothing. Maybe it had left the building without you noticing? Outside, the police still remained alert and in wait. There was no way it could have left without being seen.

Fine. If you couldn’t find him, then he could come and find you. Making your way to the center of the empty space, you remained perfectly still and waited for your sense to tell you where the beast was coming from. The wait was short-lived as you felt a sharp wave of shivers running down your right arm, your entire body shifting to face that side just in time to shoot enough web to completely wrap the entire stinger and leave enough web for you to jump and throw over a beam, leaving the scorpion hanging upside down while aggressively pinching the air around him with its pincers. Unwilling to take any risks, you covered them as well. You had to stand there and catch your breath for a few seconds before looking over to your watch to report you’d successfully captured the anomaly. Only then you had the chance to see that you had several missing calls from Peter.

“(Y/N)?” Peter asked when the call went in almost immediately, “Where have you been? I tried calling but you didn’t answer,”

“Yeah, sorry for going AWOL. I’ve been…busy. I caught something back here. I just reported it,” Behind you, you could hear the scorpion still struggling to free itself, “It’s an ugly one, Mayday’s going to love it.”

“(Y/N), listen, I think you should come back here. You and Miguel should try to talk…”

“P.B., I love you but I really don’t want to talk about that right now. Okay? How about you come over here and help me drag this feisty little shit back to the HQ so we can send it home? You won’t believe it; it has to weigh at least…”

When you turned around to proudly stare at your prisoner, you were met with nothing but a lone stinger, eerily dangling from the ceiling. Your proud smile faded as quickly as it had arrived. Before you could open your eyes to say anything else, you found yourself trapped between two cold surfaces that painfully squeezed all the air out of your lungs as you let out a painful yell. You desperately grabbed each side of the pincer, trying to pry them open to release yourself to no avail. With your brain already starting to run low on oxygen, your strength began to fade. You heard Peter questioningly say your name from the device still attached to your wrist, but he sounded as if you’d been submerged underwater. And his voice sounded as if it was further, and further away. You were falling into a deep and dark lake, air deprived and without enough strength to swim to the surface. So you let yourself sink further, close your eyes and let darkness engulf you as you keep going down.

You’d wondered once or twice what would come after life. Since there was no way for you to be certain about anything, you decided to believe what sounded the most comforting. You would wake up in a beautiful place, full of light, that smelled like freshly baked cookies all the time because you would be sitting at a kitchen table with all the people that you lost along the way, and it was time for all of you to have cookies with whatever you wanted to drink, maybe you just hung out in silence, or you would discuss all the wisdom that the act of passing away seemed to come with…the point was that in no scenario did heaven smell like antiseptic.

This discrepancy was what made you start slowly blinking as you furrowed your eyebrows, the intense white light surrounding you making your head spin. Eventually, you were able to discern some shadows that slowly morphed into a familiar face.

“Hey, welcome back,” Jessica gently greeted you from a chair in the corner of the room. The hospital room. Like they’d done hours before when you woke up from your nap, a new wave of unpleasant memories came crashing down once more as you tried to sit up with a worried expression.

“Is…are we both okay?” It wasn’t until you tried to ask that you noticed a certain reluctance at saying the word.

“Yes, don’t worry,” Jess immediately assured you. Then why did she look so troubled?

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She asked, rolling her chair closer and grabbing your hand gently, “Honey, of all people you know I would’ve understood,”

“Jess, I’m so scared,” Was all you came up with before shutting your eyes and clamping your lips together to keep the sobs inside, tears already beginning to fall from your cheeks, “This wasn’t supposed to happen, I don’t know how I’m going to handle this, how am I supposed to do this if I can’t even take down a lousy scorpion without getting myself killed?”

With a reassuring smile, the woman tried to hug you as much as her pregnancy allowed her, comfortingly running one hand down your hair and rubbing your back with the other.

“See? You’re great at this already and your kid isn’t even here,” You sobbed against her shoulder, too exhausted to return the embrace.

“What makes you think you won’t be?” She asked, pulling away to give you some space and much-needed room to breathe.

And you knew the exact reason. It came to you so fast and with such clarity that it scared you. But maybe she would understand that too. However, right as you opened your mouth to speak, a soft click coming from the door interrupted you right before it opened, leaving you completely exposed to the thorough, scrutinizing look of the man that hours ago you thought you’d never lay eyes on again.

You turned at Jess, hoping she’d create an excuse for him to leave you alone. You weren’t done talking to her. You desperately wanted her to stay. However, she’d already turned to look at him and left her chair.

“I’ll give you a moment,” She said and, after gently caressing your shoulder one last time, left the room.

And then there were two.

For the life of you, you couldn’t think of one single thing to say, much less anticipate what his next move would be. Yet, your eyes never left his. Your jaw hurt from how hard you had to clench it to keep yourself from bursting into tears again. Fuck, could the hormones be acting up already? Right when you were starting to wonder if, should neither of you say something, you would just stay there in this staring contest until the end of time, Miguel spoke.

“How long have you known?”

“A day. Or so.” You blurted out so quickly that he wasn’t done speaking when you replied. It wasn’t until his eyes left yours and wandered down that you realized you’d been clutching your pale blue gown the entire time. As you slowly let go of it, you realized your hands were shaking.

“And you didn’t say anything?” He asked again, his voice turning one octave higher right in the middle of the question.

“Well, I found out not so long ago, and immediately after I was called here to help so I thought we had bigger problems and this could wait. But then you said we had been a mistake all along so I imagined I was on my own for this one. And I think that pretty much covers it.”

Silently, he took a seat on the chair next to the hospital bed.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” He replied, not looking at you but at an empty spot on the wall, “Back there, when I realized you were gone something didn’t make sense. You’ve pushed back much harder for less important things and now you just turned around and left? And with this, it makes even less sense. Even out of spite, you would’ve told me before leaving.”

You hated how well he knew you, and how right he was. And how what he said didn’t make you angry, but instead make you confront the harrowing confession you’d left unfinished before he walked in.

“What if you were right?” You asked taking a deep, shaky breath, “I didn’t intend for this to happen, you know? It just did. What we had was manageable because at least it was just between us, no third parties affected, if anything went wrong with the timeline and such we could call it off and that was that. But now there was something tangible real coming out of this and I panicked because what if it messed everything up? What if we’d made a mistake? But I just didn’t want to think about it until you sort of confirmed it,”

You weren’t going to cry. You refused to cry in front of him while having this conversation. You tried to focus on anything else to cope with his seemingly endless silence, anything but his slouching shape next to you. The soft fabric of your sheets, or the faint whirring of the monitor next to you displaying your vitals. Now you focused on your breaths. Long, deep breaths.

“So,” He finally spoke in a hoarse voice you were sure you’d never heard before, and you were so taken aback by it that you turned to look at him before you could stop yourself to find a strange, oddly endearing sight. He was crying. Well, maybe that was a bit of a stretch but there were definitely tears in his eyes and even if he was better at hiding it, you were sure he was struggling to keep them confined there as much as you were. Suddenly self-aware of the change in his voice, he cleared his throat before continuing.

“So, we’re having a baby?”

He sounded so expectant, and yet so afraid of the answer. He was absolutely terrified. You could see it in his eyes. This man, who faced life-risking challenges every day and had seen enough for several lifetimes, had never seemed so frightened. The thought, for some reason, made you laugh as you shuddered when you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Seems like it,” came the reply in such a croaky voice that it left you no choice but to laugh a little bit more.

This time he laughed too, although you could barely catch a glimpse of his smile before being engulfed in a hug that made you wish you weren’t in such a state so you could pull him as close to you as you really wanted. Instead, you settled for resting your forehead against his shoulder as he pulled away enough to plant several small and warm kisses on your temple.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, “God, I swear I didn’t mean one single word. Whatever happens next, we’ll deal with it as it comes, I don’t care, right now all I know is none of this would’ve been worth it if it hadn’t brought me here to you,”

“Hey, don’t get sentimental on me, O’Hara,” you jokingly said, pulling away to be able to look into his eyes, “We’re going to be just fine,”

“I won’t if you keep doing stupid shit like this, (Y/N), ¿qué carajos te pasa? ‘we’re going to be just fine’ Claro, si por tu culpa no me da un infarto primero,“ He scolded you, leaving his seat, “You know you’re benched, right? You’re staying right here, where I can keep an eye on you and make sure you stay out of trouble,”

“What about my dimension? There are plenty of non-interdimensional criminals there desperate to be caught,” You complained.

“Well, I’m afraid the NYPD’s going to have to figure it out for themselves for the next few months. Might even teach them to appreciate you a little more.”

“And if there’s another anomaly?”

“Dios mío, mujer,” He impatiently argued back, “I’ll go then. Or we’ll send somebody else. You’re staying here. Period.”

“Fine,” You huffed, not pleased at all with the order despite knowing you’d been very lucky this time, “But just for three months,”

“Six,” He stubbornly insisted.

“Five, but Peter’s going to be the godfather and you have to tell him.”

A disgruntled sigh echoes throughout the room.

“Fine,”

Taglist: @anywherebuthere @khaleesihavilliard @spookyboogyuniverse @sunshiines-stuff @letharue @withbeautyandrage

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x female reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #spiderman atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv #angst #female reader #reader insert #Spotify

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stinkyme · 1 year

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Hello! This is something I came up with since it's Valentine's Day so I thought why not write mini scenarios with BSD characters :)

It's basically what you got them and what they got you as a gift, I apologize if some are repetitive or similar, it was hard to think of completely unique gifts and reactions for everyone, but I tried my best! :)

I hope you will like it and enjoy! :D

CW/TW: none, fluff, maybe in Chuuya's part, him riding motorcycle if that's triggering for someone and a suggestive joke, in Gin's part there is a knife as a gift (i know how weird this sounds but bear with me), petnames and GN!reader, some characters might be OOC and if I forgot please anything let me know! :)

PS. I headcanon Tanizaki as a huge gamer; Tachihara as a kinder surprise egg lover and Sigma as a person who can draw really good, so bear with me🤗

*солнце моё - my sun; i thank deeply to my dear friend who helped me to think of a nickname and make it correct, you slay ily <3

Also I can do Fukuzawa, Lucy, Louisa, Fukuchi and Mori or other characters in second part if anyone wants them as well :D

I apologize for any mistakes in advance! :)

Happy Valentine's day everyone, remember to do something nice for yourself <3

Valentine's gifts || BSD characters x Reader

Decay of Angels

Nikolai Gogol

You were really excited about Nikolai and you spending Valentine's day together. You got everything ready, put on cute outfit and previously you bought him this beautiful, big painting of white birds flying in wide, blue sky and behind you wrote "As free as they are, they are still not alone. They still need shared nest and ground to rest. Thank you for being my nest and my ground." and you made him some piroshki that you've put on the table with few white candles around. You turned the picture towards the wall so he can't see it.

He finally came and you jumped on him into a huge hug.

"My, my someone missed me!" Nikolai said through sweet laughter.

"I have! Did you miss me?" you said happily, resting your head between his shoulder and neck.

"Of course darling!" he moved to give you a small kiss on your lips. You smiled and he put out a rose out of his coat, you smiled even more and rose suddenly sprayed water on your face. Nikolai's smile faded away in an instant.

"Oh no! That's a wrong one! Uh..uh..HOLD ON A SECOND!" he was nervous and he turned around as you giggled at his unusual clumsiness. He turned around after digging inside his coat and gave you a beautiful, fresh rose in your favorite color.

"It's beautiful! Thank you, love!" you smiled as you took rose out of his hand, kissing him on the cheek.

You turned around to put it in a vase.

"I don't think you want to put it there darling." Nikolai said softly and you turned around, slightly confused when you saw a huge wreath with probably 100 roses in a huge heart shape, missing only one in neatly done rows.

You gasped, it was absolutely huge and beautiful.

"Nikolai! This is...thank you so much!" you walked towards him, putting one last rose inside to complete the heart.

You gave him a strong hug, full of love and plenty of kisses on his cheeks.

He hugged you back and giggled at your reaction. You moved and looked at beautiful wreath one more time and put it down.

You took his hand to pull him over to piroshki and his eyes got wide in surprise and excitement.

"Oh! All of those for me?" he proclaimed, his voice filled with love and excitement and he took one of piroshki, immediately taking a bite and letting a huge satisfied sigh out, smile plastered all over his face.

"That's not all." you said and turned around the painting and Nikolai's eyes got wide once again, but this time more in deeply emotional manner. He started chewing slower and put down rest of his piroshki and came up to you to take a better look at the painting. He gently touched it as if he could break it.

"You have a message behind!" you giggled at him and he turned it around, taking it out of your hands to read. Once he read the message, you could swear he teared up. He got up, softly smiling at you, with little tears in corners of his eyes.

"You are right, they need nest and ground. However may I be a bird, you are my sky." he closed his eyes and pulled you into a huge hug that lasted for a very good time and kissed top of your head.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

Fyodor was never really fond of any type of holidays or special days in traditional way, until he met you. He waited for your return, put on some candles and bought you a silver necklace that had black agate stone placed on silver lineup and on that lineup it was carved "Cолнце моё".

You came home and went to hug him immediately, enjoying the atmosphere he made. He kissed you on the cheek and stroked your hair gently.

"Welcome home, darling. I have little something for you." he said softly and went to take a little, long, black leathered box to give you your gift. You opened it and saw this beautiful necklace and turned it around to see the carved, loving nickname. Your eyes widened and you feel warm.

"It's beautiful. I love it." you said in soft tone, Fyodor gently smiling at you.

"Let me put it on for you." he said and you gave him the necklace as he gently moved his fingers around your neck and put it on. You adjusted it a bit in the front, touching the black stone.

"This will go amazing with my outfit and our plans for tonight." you giggled and turned around to kiss Fyodor.

"What do you mean?" he asked a bit confused and you handed him tickets for a concert of classical music. He curiously took tickets and saw what were they for and smiled softly at you. He has been mentioning a lot how he is overworked and needed something just to let his mind relax.

"We better get ready then, love." he said and softly kissed you and both of you went to get ready, enjoying rest of your night in romantic, relaxed and loving atmosphere of the concert.

Sigma

Sigma was really nervous about this, he didn't know whole bunch of things about holidays and in general, he was new to everything but your love helped him discover and explore more of himself and the world. He wanted to make this day special and he was hoping he won't mess it up and that you will like his gift. He finally met up with you, you were holding some sort of bag, he hugged you softly, but you could feel he was nervous.

"Happy Valentine's day sweetheart..um, this is for you." he handed you what seemed like a notebook. It wasn't too thick or to thin and as you opened it you started tearing up. Notebook was filled with drawings of you, doing random things, probably when you would be with him in office and he would tell you he is doing 'paperwork' and you did something else to entertain yourself. You could also tell some were drawn from his memory only. Sigma was looking at you nervously as you flipped pages, eyes wider and wider each time.

"It's something I wanted to keep for myself, but..since it's a holiday, I thought you would like to have it." he said a bit hesitant since you weren't saying anything. You looked up at him with a huge smile on your face and closed the notebook to give him a huge hug. He was a bit shocked, but hugged you back.

"So, you like it?" he asked, soft smile on his face.

"I love it! I love you!" you said happily, hugging him thighter. Then you moved and out of bag pulled out a Sky Casino model with a note attached to the platform model was on. Sigma's eyes got wide as he took model in his hands, almost tearing up from beauty and shock. He noticed the note and took it as you took model inside your hands so he can read it.

"I know I often tell you how amazing you are, but I want you to always remember something. Sky Casino isn't what made you into a person you are, you are the person who made Sky Casino into what it is with your kind soul. I want you to always remember that when you look at this model. Happy Valentine's day, my beloved."

He read it and teared up at this point, putting the note on his heart. He gently smiled at you and put model down on the floor next to two of you so he could pull you into a hug.

"I can't bring myself to say anything else but that I love you too, Y/N."

Mushitaro Oguri

You were waiting for his return rather impatiently. You were slightly nervous about your gift, not knowning how will he react, but still, you hoped for the best. He finally arrived home carrying what seemed like his present for you and you went right into his body to hug him tightly.

"Happy Valentine's day, love." he said as he smiled at you and kissed your nose.

"Happy Valentine's day, Mushi. I missed you." you said as you hugged him for a bit longer and placed a kiss on his lips.

"I missed you too, darling." he smiled at you and gave you the bag. You were excited to see what he got you and quickly went to the living room and sat on the couch, unpacking it. You saw two small brown teddy bears, each had a bow tie, one just like Mushitaro's and other one was in your favorite one. They were holding hands and they were really fluffy. You pressed them on your chest as Mushitaro already came to see your reaction. You jumped into a hug with him and gently kissed his cheek.

"Do you like them? They are miniature of us." he smiled and you nodded.

"I love them. They are adorable! Thank you, Mushi." your eyes were bright and you kissed him on the lips. Then, you put little teddy bears down and went over for your gift. He could tell you were nervous as you handed him the wrapped box. Once he opened it he saw a game that basically was made as a crime mystery supposed to be solved.

"I know you dislike mystery, but I thought if..maybe we did it together, it will be more fun like that." you smiled shyly, not looking directly at him. This reminded him of his old friend which made him smile, but not only that. What also made him smile is that you knew the reason he disliked it and wanted to rewrite that into a good memory, something that he can actually enjoy and therefore heal. It was thoughtful, fun and really meaningful as silly as you thought your gift was.

"I love it. Let's solve it together." Mushitaro whispered as he pulled you into a hug.

"Really?" you whispered back.

"Really. It doesn't what do I do as long as it's with you, you make everything good. Thank you for that, Y/N." he smiled softly and placed a gentle kiss on your neck.

Port Mafia

Akutagawa Ryunosuke

You and Akutagawa weren't together, however after long thinking you finally decided to gift him something for Valentine's day. Obviously you were nervous, even though Akutagawa wasn't always unpleasant towards you, often times he was actually calm and well mannered, but still it was a huge thing. You made him a woven basket full of figs, his favorite teas he talked about to you and small antique painting. You were ready to go, giving yourself mental pat on the back and headed out. Little did you know.

Some time later you found Akutagawa taking his leave from Port mafia building, thankfully alone.

You nervously came up to him.

"Hello, are you busy?" you asked him, your tone low and almost cracking.

"Obviously not." Akutagawa responded in his usual tone.

"Ah right! Silly of me, um, okay, here you go." you handed out the basket, tilting your head down not to look at him.

He scanned it with his eyes and slowly took it out of your hands.

"What is this?" he asked, in his usual deep voice.

"A little something for Valentine's day. If you don't feel the same or dislike it or anything, feel free to do whatever you want with it." you barely smiled at him, your nerves taking best out of you.

"I shall leave now, see you tomorrow..or never again." you chuckled and almost started running away. Akutagawa took a look inside and smiled gently at his gift, as well as your reaction.

You came in your building, shaking and scolding yourself. However, once you reached the door you saw a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a small card on top. You were really curious about it, making you forget how nervous you were. You took a look at the card.

"I am not good with words, but I appreciate you. Hopefully, you understand. - Akutagawa"

You smiled at the note, he probably sneaked it in when you left because he was too prideful to ask anyone to do it for him and way too nervous to do it in person. You were still smiling and sent him a message making a deal for two of you to meet up and pick up where you left off.

Chuuya Nakahara

He took you on a evening ride on his motorcycle. He wasn't driving too fast, letting you enjoy the view of night lights as you held tightly around his waist.

"Where are we going?" you asked him excited and curious.

"Just a bit more patience, angel. We are almost there." he said and took a turn as you arrived to some sort of empty parking lot. You both got off the motorcycle and removed your helmets.

"What are we doing here? You are so perverted Chuu." you started giggling.

"The one who is perverted here are you, angel. I didn't have that in mind." he chuckled and took your hand as you walked towards garage doors.

"What is this, Chuu?" you asked him, not entirely sure what was he doing.

He opened the garage door and what you saw was a beautiful motorcycle that matches his. You gasped as your eyes widened.

"My gift for you, so we can do it together." Chuuya said and smiled at your reaction.

"This is insane Chuu, it's too much." you said still shocked. Indeed, Chuuya was extra but he loved you and wanted to show it as much as he humanly can.

You came up to him to hug him and kiss him and he returned it, smiling afterwards. You went to inspect the motorcycle, suddenly getting a thought.

"Um, Chuuya." you said as you were to reveal something obvious.

"What's up angel?" he asked as he came to inspect motorcycle with you.

"I don't have a licence and I don't know how to ride it." you said and looked at him with seriousness in your eyes. Chuuya stood there for a second as he was processing the information.

"Oh." he let out as he looked up at you.

"Shit. I completely forgot you need a licence for those." he said in a bit irritated voice.

"Excuse me? WERE YOU RIDING WITHOUT LICENCE NAKAHARA CHUUYA?" you yelled at him, shocked at his nonchalant attitude about that information.

"Being in Port Mafia has its benefits, you know? Not like cops will stop me. But that also means I can get you one as well." he smiled and stroked your hair.

"But I can't ride it." you said, looking up at him.

"I will teach you then. Easy as that." he smiled once more but noticed you were nervous and looking around shyly.

"What's wrong angel? You don't like it?" he asked concerned as he kept stroking your hair.

"No, no, it's not that. I love it, but..." you stopped your sentence to pull out a small hat chain you made for Chuuya that had an extenstion of mini hat, bottle and glass attached to it. You handed it to him. He looked at it and could feel himself melting inside.

"My gift is so small compared to yours and I made dinner and bought your favorite wine and made a bath for two us, but then you said this is urgent so I couldn't really pressure it.." you were saying looking down. Chuuya just moved your chin up and gave you a long, meaningful kiss. You blushed a little bit.

"It's absolutely amazing gift and I will wear it all the time. I love it and don't ever say anything you give me or do for me is small or less meaningful, angel." he smiled as he put your gift in his pocket.

"Let's head home and enjoy everything you prepared, then tomorrow we can start your lessons, sounds good?" he smiled and cupped your cheek with his hand. You nodded and hugged him thightly as he returned the hug, happier than he ever was.

Gin Akutagawa

Gin and you were fairly similar, but at the same time different, therefore complimenting each other perfectly. You worked under Black Lizard alongside with her. Two of you agreed to meet up after work to spend Valentine's day or rather evening together. Gin was waiting for you in place you both agreed on and you saw her in casual outfit which made you giggle because she was so beautiful.

You walked up to her and you gave her a kiss as she blushed a bit, more nervous than usual.

"You seem nervous babe, what's up?" you asked her, gently brushing her cheek with your fingers. She looked away and just pulled the box out of her bag and handed it out. You were curious and found her reaction really adorable. You took box out of her hands and opened it only to see one gorgeous knife in metallic red color with black handle that had your initials engraved.

You took it out, moving it a bit as light fell on it, making the color shine more. It was absolutely gorgeous.

"This is beautiful Gin, thank you so much!" you said in happy and excited voice and she opened her mouth lightly to say something when you pulled her into a hug. She hugged you back, resting her hands on your back and smiled.

"I have the same one. So we can match, you know?" she said as she was relieved you liked her gift.

"We really do think alike, don't we?" you smiled as you pulled away giving her your gift wrapped in baby pink paper.

You made her a new mask, it was in black color and on the inside you sewed small "I love you".

"That's so anytime you take it off you see it and so it can remind you of me." you smiled at her. Her eyes were full of love and she grabbed mask thighter, putting it on her chest.

"I love it. Thank you so much, I love you." she said gently and stroked your hair.

"I love you too darling and I have the same one, so another thing to match!" both of you giggled and hugged once again as you noticed people were staring at two of you, a bit scared and creeped out.

"Maybe you should put the knife back into the box, babe." Gin said through a laughter.

"Shit baby, you are right." you laughed and put knife back into the box, taking Gin's hand so two of you can go and enjoy rest of evening together.

Higuchi Ichiyō

You were having a lovely evening with Higuchi, eating amazing dinner two of you prepared together and chatted about everything and anything. Higuchi was always so lively, especially with you. You also brought her comfort no one else truly did and knew how to calm her down when she would go overboard with work and feel intense or pressured.

Gifts were common between two of you, little ways to show how you care and think of each other. Lately, you were both very busy so you didn't get much time to relax and spend time together, so this was a breath of fresh air for both of you.

"Okay, now for gifts!" Higuchi said as she was waiting for both of you to finish your dinner. You looked at her and she pushed a bag into your hands, sitting on her chair excited. You opened it and saw all sorts of candles - bigger, smaller, red, blue, yellow and few other colors, you also saw a bottle of some oil and love note. You unfolded the paper.

"I am forever thankful I've met you. You make my days brighter in ways only I can know which makes me feel really proud and special. You make feel calmness I never knew was possible to feel.

So, today I wanted to, hopefully, make you feel special and calm. I love you."

Your heart was melting and you got up from your chair and pulled Higuchi into a thight hug. She returned it, smiling into your neck.

"You always make feel special and calm, sunshine. Just existing next to you is more than enough for someone like me to feel like that." you whispered in her ear and pulled away in order to kiss her. You pulled away and slowly stroked her hair and she smiled at you, leaning in to kiss you one more time. It made you giggle and you gave her your gift. It was a small plastic sunshine frame that had picture of two of you inside. Higuchi's eyes widened and her cheeks got slightly red.

"Open it." you gestured to the back of the frame and she opened it to see a little note of you saying how she is your sunshine and how she should never forget that. She jumped on you which got you startled a bit and gave you a long, passionate kiss.

"Thank you, I will cherish this forever. Not only the photo, but you seeing me as your sunshine. I love you more than you know." she said after she pulled away and grabbed your hand to go to another room. She placed the photo on the nightstand next to the bed and gestured you to sit down. You listened, looking at her curiously.

"Give me a second, sweetheart." Higuchi said and went to grab an essential oil she got you which you learned when she came back.

"It's a lavender essential oil and I wanted to give you a massage so my little note comes to life." she smiled gently at you and you smiled back.

"Deal, but I will do same for you after." you said in soft voice and she nodded, smiling at you.

Oda Sakunosuke

This was a plan you had for some time now, but what a better chance to use than Valentine's day? You decided before Oda comes home that you will rearrange one room two of you barely used. It was supposed to be medium sized storage, but neither of you storaged anything really. So you went to work and rearranged it into Oda's new writing room. You put table and chair, made of beautiful oak and assembled few shelves on wall, as well as added some flowers and paintings to make it more comfortable and cozy. You added pens, papers, anything Oda would need for writing. You were really proud of your work. You wanted to surprise him.

Oda came home and called out for you, but didn't hear anything. He took his shoes off and called your name again with no answer. He went around the house, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom to look for you but he was met with disappointment each time.

"Over here!" you said in a bit higher voice and he could hear your giggles as he relaxed knowning you are safe and walked towards storage.

"What are you.."

"Surprise! It's a writing room for you. Happy Valentine's day darling!" you said as you jumped and stretched your arms out. Oda looked around, his face remained the same but deep inside he was shocked, touched and melted. He moved around, looking at all details you made and finally table ready with materials. He came up to you and lifted you up into a hug.

"You didn't have to do all this, you know?" he said as his hand was stroking back of your head as he was putting you down.

"You are right, but I wanted to! Do you like it?" you smiled at him.

"I absolutely adore it my love." he placed a kiss on your forehead.

"It happens I have little something for you as well." he said and took out a small box out of his pocket, handing it to you. You opened it and it was a golden ring and on the inside it had carved "My one & only."

You smiled, immediately putting it on one of your fingers. You looked up at Oda who was smiling back at you.

"I love it, thank you so much!" you exclaimed happily and jumped on him, your arms wrapping around his neck.

"You deserve everything, love, don't thank me at all." he whispered and kissed your cheek.

Ango Sakaguchi

You waited for Ango's return, he was as busy as always, overworking himself. Thankfully, he was able to get an evening off so you can spend it together. You prepared everything - dinner, ambience and a movie you will watch. You got him a neck pillow and a massager he can use on himself since you knew how much his back suffered all that work. He came home, drained and tired, but he was really happy to spend an evening with you. He took his shoes off and came up to you with a huge basket which caught your attention. It was covered with white net so you couldn't see what it was. You came up to him and gave him a big hug as he sighed out.

"It's good to be home for a change." he smiled as you looked up to him and then he leaned down to give you a kiss.

"This is for you, I hope you will like it." he pulled away and handed you the basket. You opened it up and it had literally everything related to self-care: oils, shower gel, shampoo, facemasks, body scrub, face roller, gua sha stones. It was beautiful. You smiled and put the basket down to hug him, your hands snaking around his waist.

"It's a reminder to take care of yourself. That's really important thing, you know Y/N?" he was stroking your hair and you looked up at him and his dark circles.

"That's a valuable lesson...coming from you!" you laughed at him and he softly smiled back at irony of his own words and actions.

"However! Good thing is that I had similar idea in mind when it comes to you." you gave him a wide smile and went over to give him his gift. It was in a bag so he opened it and saw neck pillow and massager suitable for self massage. He chuckled, looking softly at you.

"You know what? This is a looooot of products. I don't think I will be able to use them all on my own, so how about we share a self-care night?" you said looking up at him, earning a satisfied and relieved laugh from him.

"I can't see why not. I would love that, thank you, you are truly amazing, love." he said and you smiled back at him, two of you spending the relaxing, romantic night taking care of yourselves and each other.

Kouyou Ozaki

It was your first Valentine's day with Kouyou and two of you weren't together, however you did love her for quite some time now. Kouyou was very open about how she feels about Valentine's day and love in general. She was very hesitant and in a sense appalled by the idea of that holiday due to her experience with love. She was very vocal about how stupid she thinks it is and how people are just fools and if you "love" someone you love them every day making conclusion how people are shallow and dishonest with their feelings. You listened to her words and it made you nervous and prepared for a heartbreak, but you were ready to be heartbroken if that means she will know what you feel.

You made her a paper rose and as you would drag down the stalk of it - it would open up like it was blossoming and close back when you move it back up. You tied a little note on it and went to leave it at Kouyou's door in Port mafia. You arrived and knocked on her door, leaving the rose in front of them and went to hide, scared to see her face. She opened the door and looked down. She saw a paper rose and picked it up, noticing the note. Her face had confused expression the whole time until she read the note.

"I hope some day, just like this rose you will be able to open up and accept my love. If not mine, then someone else's, as long as you are happy. - Y/N"

She moved the rose and her eyes started watering as she was scared of all emotions that were coming out of her, thinking she burried them long time ago. She played with the rose, thinking, and you kept looking at her a bit confused. Was she happy, was she angry, was she moved by it? Did she feel the same or not?

"Come out, Y/N." Kouyou said as she closed her eyes, softly smiling. Your heart skipped a beat, but you couldn't trick Kouyou after all. You came to her, obviously nervous and on the edge. She turned her back and went into her room for a second and returned with something. She handed it to you and it was metal shaped and colored as her Golden Demon, attached to a chain. You took it, shocked and looked at her.

"I never thought I would be the one doing this. It's silly to be completely honest with you Y/N. I talked about this holiday so poorly, yet made that for you, hoping it will protect you from the distance." she looked at you.

"However, now I hope you will accept it and wear it as a confession of my feelings as well as to keep you safe and protected from any harm. Thank you for this rose and thank you for..awakening the hope and feelings inside me I thought were long lost." she stepped forward and pulled you into a kiss.

Armed Detective Agency

Dazai Osamu

You were dragging his hand, really excited.

"We can't miss this Osamu, walk faster!" you ordered him, earning a confused look and laughter from Dazai.

"Ah, ah, where are we rushing darling?" he said as his usual, teasing self.

"Not telling! Be patient, but hurry your ass up." you pulled him harder as you arrived to your destination. Dazai looked around, there were plenty of couples but you went to more isolated area.

"Now we wait." you proclaimed, holding his hand.

"For what exactly if I may ask?" Dazai looked at you confused as you stared into the sky.

"You may not! Shush it or you will miss it." you said squeezing his hand and he looked into direction you were looking at.

"Here comes yours!" you giggled, squeezing his hand harder.

Suddenly, with a loud sound, a firework appeared in shape of a heart and "I love you" in the middle, it was in bright pink color. Dazai stared at awe, this was one of the few times when he didn't know what to say. You looked at his face, it was so gentle and so genuine. His eyes got brighter and he squeezed your hand. It was a sight you could look at forever. Firework passed and his mouth were slightly opened as he looked at you, speechless.

"I customized it! I hoped you will like it and..." you couldn't finish your sentence as he pulled you in into a hug, squeezing you tightly. You hugged him back and started laughing a bit at sudeness of his reaction.

"And...I was hoping..this maybe gives you new perspective.." you continuned, muffled voice as your head was squeezed into his chest.

"No need to say anything else. I know." he squeezed you even thighter. You wanted to say something but you truly enjoyed this and it melted your heart.

He pulled away and looked into your eyes.

"That firework is how I feel when I am with you." he said in serious voice.

"You are so cheesy, Osamu." you laughed at him and gently slapped his chest. He smiled at you.

"I mean it. It's like I was reborn anytime I am with you." he gently brushed your cheek with his slender fingers.

"Stop it, I don't like when you talk like this." you said jokingly and he laughed.

"Now then.." he pulled something out of his pocket and quickly positioned it on your chest. You looked down and it was same opal stone he has. You touched it and looked at Dazai.

"Now we match. Also, this way, you see, our hearts are always connected." he smiled at you and touched his stone. He moved down and kissed you softly.

Then he pulled you into another hug.

"Also...sounds fireworks made were almost as loud as your farts, did you customize sounds too?" he pulled away, making fake amazed face.

"Dazai Osamu!" you punched his stomach.

"Ouch, ouch! You said you don't like when I am romantic, you don't like this either, it's so hard to satisfy you belladona!" he whined in dramatic voice.

"Maybe you just need to shut up, ever thought about that?" you laughed and pulled him into a kiss.

Kunikida Doppo

You were really excited about this day and your gift. Kunikida has been frowning lately because his notebook is near the end and from all work he had, he wasn't able to order new one. So you did it for him and it arrived just in time. You also wrote little note on the first page.

Now, you were walking to meet up with him at a local park as he said he wants to take you somewhere. Kunikida, on the other hand, was slightly nervous. Last year he took you in fancy restaurant and for most of your bigger celebrations. He wanted to switch it up this time out of his comfort zone. He wanted to take you in a game room so two of you can have some fun together and go out for an ice cream afterwards.

He wasn't sure how you will react to this and kind of regretted he didn't go for safer idea, but it is what it is now. He saw you coming and adjusted himself.

You spreaded your arms, running into his hug. He picked you up, returning the hug and kissed top of your head, then gave you a kiss on the lips.

"You seem really jumpy, what's the reason?" he asked with a soft smile.

"And you, Kunikida Doppo, seem really nervous, what's the reason?" you asked him playfully. Of course you would notice. He cleared his throat as his eyes gave away slight shock as confirmation of your question and wanted to speak when you cut him off suddenly.

"Maybe this will help you!" you said happily and handed him a notebook that was wrapped in paper with some animals. He took it and slowly started unwrapping it only to see his long desired notebook he wasn't able to order. He threw away the paper in trashcan and took another look, still in awe.

"Open it! There is something inside." you giggled.

He gave you a questioning look and opened it to see a dedication written from you. You wrote how you look up to him, how he inspires you every day to be a better person and as silly as his ideals can be at the times, they are still his and therefore deeply admired by you. You ended it by telling him to never change that fire in his heart and how you love him. He pushed his glasses up, closing the notebook and gently looking at you.

"You know, when I was writing who may my ideal partner be, I only had you in mind. I remember how I wished someone would be able to make me more flexible as a person or rather inspire me to see bigger picture and explore more of myself. Then you showed up and for that I am forever thankful, Y/N." he came closer to hug you and give you a kiss. You blushed at his words, unsure what to say.

You just hugged him thightly and thanked him as you pulled him into another kiss.

"You know, mister Carlylye said to send you a lot of greetings. Also, where are we going? Which resturant?" you asked him as you pulled away.

"I will make sure to send him letter tomorrow or give him a phone call if he isn't too busy. And as for where we are going, I thought about game room...if that's okay." he smiled, nervously as he waited for your reaction.

"Game room? Where did that come from?" you looked at him, a bit stunned by his plan.

"Well, I wanted to try something different, I guess. If you don't like it.."

you cut him off.

"I LOVE IT!" you gave him a big smile, putting all his worries away. He laughed a bit and you spent rest of your evening playing different games, winning or losing, it didn't matter. You had a lot of fun and enjoyed each other's company.

Atsushi Nakajima

You and Atsushi agreed to stay at home for Valentine's Day and have some alone time. You were finishing up chazuke you made for him as a treat for Valentine's. You came back to him and his face lit up. He was really excited and Valentine's Day with you felt surreal. He always had hard time to accept love from others given his inner turmoil. You taught him how to be more forgiving to himself, how to accept love and how to have love for himself. He still had long way to go, but he was better and every day brought new things.

"Thank you, Y/N! I really appreciate this." he said with a smile as he took bowl out of your hand and placed it in front of him.

"You are not going to eat it?" you asked him, a bit confused as he always literally dived in like there is no tomorrow. He shaked his head and got up to take something from the closet and turned around facing you.

It was a beautiful flower crown, you could tell it was a handmade. He came towards you and placed it on top of your head and smiled.

"I made it with tiny bit of help of Kyouka-chan!" he kept smiling. It truly melted your heart, anything he ever gave you was self made.

"I tried my best, I hope you like it." he said, blush covering his pale face.

"It's beautiful, you are so amazing! Thank you so much my love." you said and hugged him as he blushed, returning the hug.

"I have little something too!" you giggled and went to the other room to grab it. You came back and handed him a tiger plushie. He took it, inspecting fluffy tiger with his hands. He saw it had a small, loose collar that said "Mini Sushi".

"Mini..Sushi?" he looked at you.

"Like Mini Atsushi, but Sushi. Nickname." you smiled at him. His eyes got a bit wider and he smiled, hugging the plushie.

"Thank you, Y/N. You mean a lot to me and so does Sushi!" he smiled, genuine and warm.

"Remember anytime you are kind to him, you are also kind to yourself, Sushi." you said and went to hug him. He hugged you back as mini Sushi got squeezed between and Atsushi's eyes were soft, peaceful and loving as he understood meaning.

Ranpo Edogawa

Ranpo and you have been dating for a while now and this was your first Valentine's Day together. You knew what you will get him as soon as you started thinking of it. It was hard to surprise him and you knew that, but you hoped he will like your gift regardless. You got him a toy that looked like a machine, it was a bowl on top and on the plastic what was holding a bowl was actually few different games a person could play. Bowl had plenty of different candies inside and all you had to do is beat level in order to get it, it also had a refill which was perfect for Ranpo. You really hoped he will like it. On the other side, Ranpo understood concept of Valentine's Day, however he didn't get the point. Yosano scolded him that it's not a huge deal and gifting you something won't hurt. Ranpo did want to gift you something, that wasn't an issue, he just didn't know what. He was thinking and pouting and knew he was running out of time so he thought the best he could and got you a hat to match his. It's sweet and it also says how he loves your company when he solves crimes and mysteries.

You finally met up with each other, you came to the office as everyone else went to café and saw Ranpo there. He seemed a bit down, but you hoped your gift will cheer him up. You came to him and he got up, his face still unsatisfied. You looked at him and he just bumped his head into your chest.

"Ranpo? What's wrong?" you asked him, concerned.

"This is stupid." he said, his voice a bit sad.

"What is stupid?" you asked him, he still didn't look at you.

"This holiday. Yosano scolded me as if I didn't want to get you a gift which isn't true!" he said in annoyed voice and moved his head up facing you.

"Ranpo...you don't have to gift me anything. It's just a little holiday, if you just wished me happy Valentine's day, I will still be thankful." you were genuine.

"That's not the point." he scoffed.

"The point is, how do I tell you that I appreciate you and care for your company as well as that I enjoy when you go to solve cases with me and that you make me feel like I am not alone anymore and that I love you through a gift? And don't tell me to write a letter because I hate to do that." he looked at you. You looked at him surprised and started laughing.

"Oh my, well, just like that actually. You can tell me just like that." you smiled at him and he moved to get something out of his drawer and handed you the hat, same as his.

"Well, this hat is supposed to say it. You know, like we can match and...stuff." he looked away as you took hat out of his hand and put it on your head. He was still looking away, eyes closed when he suddenly felt a thight hug. He got surprised for a second, analysing your reaction but hugged you back.

"It's saying everything I need to know, don't worry. You also said all I needed to know." you said in soft voice.

"Really?" Ranpo asked as he wasn't really sure.

"I promise." you smiled at him, the smile he loved the most. You kissed his cheek and handed him your gift. He took it and inspected it for a while and then the biggest smile lit up his face.

"Thank you, Y/N. I really appreciate it. Now I can have more fun at work." he giggled and you laughed at him. He looked at you and put down the toy on his table and hugged you tightly.

"You look really cute with that hat, you know?" he whispered earning your smile.

"Happy Valentine's day, love." you said in soft voice.

"Happy Valentine's day, Y/N." he pulled away and you kissed, enjoying this lovely moment. Then Ranpo looked at the toy, bringing his hand closer and you noticed he just took one candy out.

"Hey! That's cheating!" you yelled at him and two of you continued this day laughing and enjoying.

Tanizaki Junchiro

Tanizaki and you made a deal to spend a day inside, nothing too fancy. You both liked comfort and cozy feeling of your own home and spending time together away from the crowds and loud city.

You arrived home with one small bag and Tanizaki came to you to greet you with a kiss.

"What took you so long? I missed you." Tanizaki said and pulled you into a hug.

"Sorry, sorry, I was picking out your gifts." you said and handed him the bag.

"Happy Valentine's day Chiro." you hugged him as he pulled out multiple games you bought, his face was shocked as those were really expensive and he gave you a look that was asking you "are you for real?" unable to say anything else.

"I save up, you know?" you elbowed him.

"Also, I thought we could play them together." you smiled at him and Tanizaki picked you up and turned to move you in the room. He placed you on the couch and started hugging and tickling you. You were laughing, trying to push him away.

"Stop, stop, why are you tickling me?" you were saying through laughter. Tanizaki got up and stopped tickling you.

"I am so happy! Thank you, those are so cool and we will have so much fun. Hold on!" he placed quick kiss on your head and came back in new pyjama and quickly sat next to you, giving you a small, blue bag. You gave him a questioning look, his face was light and his eyes sparkled, so you looked inside and saw another pyjama, matching his. Both were white and had little koalas hugging. You smiled and kissed Tanizaki.

"I will put it on right away." you said and went to change. Meanwhile, Tanizaki has set up one of the games, excited for your return. You came back and showed off how you look in new piece he got you.

"You look lovely, you are so cute Y/N!" he proclaimed as he stood up to come and hug you. He twirled you around and moved you to the set up where both of you sat down, ready to play.

"This is best Valentine's day I could ask for, thank you." he said and kissed you.

"Same goes for me, Chiro." you smiled at him and two of you spent rest of the day cozy, playing games and having fun.

Yosano Akiko

Yosano and you agreed to meet at your place and spend Valentine's day together. You prepared everything to be as romantic as possible. Yosano and you were together for some time and you wanted to make this day as special as possible. She was always kind and gentle with you even though you knew how she can get which made you melt and fall in love with her. You saw her as a woman who stood up for herself, yet treated her loved ones with the most care. Yosano could say same for you, you were the kindest, most precious person she has ever met and you loving her was an honor. That's how she felt and she wanted to make this day special for you as well.

She arrived with a small bag and you came to greet her, melting into her hug. She smiled softly and stroked your hair as you pulled away to look at her and give her a kiss.

"Someone is excited." she said lightheartedly and cupped your cheek with her soft hand.

"I am. I was so excited to see you today." you smiled at her and took her hand to move her and sit down together on the couch.

"Is that so?" she looked at you, saying teasingly.

"Yes." you looked at her full of love which made her melt at how genuine you were.

"I was excited to see you as well, my sweet Y/N." she kissed you and pulled away, gently placing a bag on your lap.

You looked at her and she nodded. You opened the bag and saw a notebook of some sort with covers in your favorite color. You opened the notebook and saw dry flowers glued on each page and next to each flower, there was a name of it as well as description of it.

"I picked all flowers that remind me of you." Yosano said as she looked at your lovestruck expression.

"This is beautiful. I truly don't know what to say, thank you so much, baby." you said as you looked up, Yosano's gentle gaze meeting yours.

"I am glad to hear that, Y/N." she smiled as you put aside the notebook, reaching under the table for a box. You handed it to her, a bit nervous. She smiled in order to calm you down and opened the box to see crystal figure in a shape of butterfly that was on lineup that said "You are an angel, my angel of everything that is good and kind."

She started tearing up, softly brushing her fingers on the sentence you designed. You waited for her to say something and she just put the figure on the table, not taking her eyes off of it and immediately pulling you into a hug.

You could feel your shoulder getting slightly wet and you hugged her thighter.

"Thank you. I love you." Yosano said through a whisper.

"I love you too." you smiled and stroked back of her head.

The Guild

Edgar Allan Poe

Two of you weren't a couple, however you were really good friends who crushed on each other. You wanted to hand your gift personally, hoping he feels the same way. You got ready and went out to head to his place in order to give him your gift. You were nervous and doubtful but if not now, then when? You just hoped you won't make this awkward between two of you or lose your friendship. It was a lot to ask for, you were aware, but still, Poe was reasonable so hopefully even if he doesn't feel the same he won't push you away. You also brought some treats for Karl.

As you walked, you felt someone watching or even following you and you turned around, but didn't see anyone who sticks out in crowd. You thought you were being paranoid and just kept walking. You arrived at more isolated area and you suddenly saw Karl jump in front of you. You backed away, startled at his sudden appearance.

"Did you smell the treats, little one?" you kneeled down to give him his treats and saw he was carrying something. It was a book and he dropped it in front of you as you handed him the treats. You opened the book as Karl munched satisfied next to you.

"I hope this doesn't ruin what we have. I have been in love with you for a very long time, Y/N. Therefore, I decided to write this for you. It contains all my feelings, like a personal diary, dedicated to you. If you don't feel the same - I completely understand. Feel free to throw it away or burn it, whatever you feel like doing, I just ask for this not to be the end of our friendship that I deeply cherish and hold dear in my heart. - E. A. Poe"

Your heart was beating so fast as you turned pages to read its and bits of what he has wrote. It was full of admiration of your personality, your beauty and time you spent together. You were shaking from how happy and excited you were. It felt surreal. You could scream right there but then Karl gently tapped your hand.

"To follow you?" you asked him and he started going in a direction behind you. You followed him and finally you saw Poe hidden behind a tree. He was literally biting his nails from anxiety and as he saw you, he got even more nervous, but was frozen in one place.

You came up to him, your face was red from excitement and your feelings for him and the fact he feels the same. You quickly gave him your gift which was small raccoon plushie that had a pocket. It had your love letter inside. Poe took it and unfolded it with clumsiness and started reading your confession. If his bangs weren't covering his eyes you would see how wide his eyes got, but shakiness of his hands told you all. Once he finished, he somehow got the strenght to look up at your face covered in impatience.

"Really?" he asked and you just came closer, pulling him into a kiss, he was shaken up at sudden movement but quickly adjusted and kissed you back.

And with this, you started your beautiful love story.

Hunting Dogs

Jouno Saigiku

Jouno and you agreed to spend Valentine's day as he was returning from a mission. You were really excited to see him and while he was away you thought about a gift that he will be able to use while away to think of you and one more practical gift that you picked out due to his complaining. He was always complaining how everyone were too loud, either they talked too out, breath too loud or, truth to be told, just exist too loud for his liking. He finally arrived and you didn't waste one second jumping into a hug and kissing him all over the face. He could sense your heart was about to explode from happiness which made him smile.

"Someone really missed me, huh?" he said in really low voice and hugged you thightly. You just nodded happily in his neck and he smiled.

"I missed you too." he slowly moved you away to give you a long, passionate kiss, not getting enough of you after being away so long. You pulled away and dragged him into a living room.

"Come faster, I want to give you my gifts." you giggled, Jouno smiled back at you, finding your excitement cute.

You quickly placed him on the couch and got two boxes. You gave him the first one.

"Okay, so this is more practical one, it's noise cancelling earbuds made specifically for you." you smiled as he took them out of box, his mouth slightly opened. He was inspecting them with his fingers.

"I tried all type of earbuds and trust me, none of them work, at least not with those bastards." he chuckled a bit and moved his head towards you.

"Just put them in Sai, don't be so skeptical." you told him and he listened, putting them in his ears and oddly enough, they seemed good.

You suddenly screamed and talked really loud how amazing it is and how you contacted his HQ to make them. He didn't hear you fully, he understood its and bits, he could still hear your heartbeat when he would really focus. You kept talking and he smiled, taking them out.

"I must give it to you, Y/N. They really do work." he said as he kept gentle smile on his face.

"I couldn't hear a word of your blabber." he teased you as you narrowed your eyebrows.

"Don't be mean now. I can also cut your ears off so you can't hear anything, you know?" you said in joking manner.

"I would love to see you try." he teased back and you smiled as you handed him second box.

"This one is more romantic, I think." you said, he could feel your muscles thighten a bit as you got nervous. He opened it and felt round, cold, thick but small piece of metal with a weirdish structure on top. He raised his eyebrow and pressed the structure and could feel 'I love you' beats being made in morse code. You were smiling nervously, not really sure how will he react. It was supposed to go in his pocket or anywhere truly, it was small but Jouno wouldn't be able to lose it given the fact it was Jouno. He pressed it once again and smiled.

"I think it's wonderful, Y/N." he smiled at you and you got even more flustered as he came closer to give you a gentle kiss.

Then, as he pulled away, he reached for his backpack, taking out a small box. He handed it to you and you opened it for your eyes to meet an earring, same as Jouno's and really pretty bracelet that had a little sword attached to it. You slowly took them out and put on an earring and bracelet as you looked at Jouno, who was smiling softly at you.

"Originally, I wanted to give you my earring, however the one you are wearing was handmade by some man I helped on the mission, I thought it would be nice to match. As for the bracelet, that little sword is a heartbeat measurment and it allows me to sense yours with this little thing.." he pulled out some sort of little machine.

"I wanted to be able to listen to your heartbeats before sleep, since they put me at ease and to track your mood during the day." he smiled at you.

You didn't say anything else, just quickly pulled him into a hug and he smiled, hugging you back thightly.

Tecchou Suehiro

Tecchou and you woke up next to each other, cuddling and whispering sweet nothings. You slowly got up and started your day, showering together and got dressed up, moving on to make some breakfast. You made pancakes with strawberry and nutella and also made your morning tea and coffee. It was overall nice, peaceful and romantic morning.

"You know, those pancakes would go great with ketchup and strawberry." Tecchou said, completely nonchalant.

"Excuse you?" you said as you laughed at him.

"I knew your taste was...special, to say at least but we won't make pancakes with ketchup and strawberries." you continued as Tecchou looked away, slightly disappointed. You laughed at him and got up to bring your gifts for him.

"Don't pout you grown baby. Maybe this will cheer you up." you said as you sat down, handing him your gift with a smile. He curiously took it and opened the bag and saw pair of gloves as well as some box in royal blue color. He took them out carefully, inspecting them.

"Gloves are for you since I noticed you hurt your hands a lot, so I thought to get you those to protect them." you smiled but Tecchou was silent, not looking at you. He opened the box, which made you nervous and he saw a lot of folded papers inside. He unfolded few papers and you were almost digging your fingernails into your skin because of his lack of reaction. On papers you wrote what you love, admire and appreciate about him and many other sweet, loving things. He folded papers back, gently placing them in the box and covering it with the lid. You were sweating at this point, he didn't look at you once. He closed his eyes and gentle, angelic smile covered his face as he stood up and came over to you and kneeled down, resting his head on your lap, his hands hugging your hips. You were a bit shocked.

"What did I do to deserve you, angel?" Tecchou said in soft, genuine voice. You were still slightly frozen, but his reaction made you smile and you placed your hand on top of his head to play with his hair.

"Just by being you, my love." you answered him in gentle tone and he suddenly looked up at you, his eyes big and full of love. He moved up to you and gave you a soft kiss on the lips. You smiled and then he kissed your forehead and stood up completely and went to bring you his gift.

He came back and gave you a bag that had teddy bear holding a heart on it. You smiled and he smiled back at you. You opened it and saw a little plushie of a dog that had Hunting Dog's uniform. You melted, but you couldn't ignore the smell of his cologne that was really strong. He noticed.

"Jouno said you will be able to smell it for next 10 years, so I think that's good." he said innocently not realizing the amount he sprayed. It still made your heart warm and you hugged the plushie thightly.

"Now you have someone to keep you company when I am away." he smiled and you got up plastering a soft kiss on his cheek and lips.

"Thank you my love, it's lovely." you said to him and you spent rest of your day enjoying each other's company.

Tachihara Michizō

You were waiting for Tachihara in the centre of the city so you can go home together. You were slightly annoyed because it was so crowded but then you finally saw him. He had a huge smile on his face and waving to get your attention. You waved back as he came up to you, picking you up and looking at your face with a huge smile.

"How is my favorite bastard doing?" he said lightheartedly and you laughed, gently slapping his arm. He put you down and pulled you in a loving kiss.

"Let's go. Do you want me to carry your backpack?" you asked genuinely.

"Hah! As if you can carry it, I will be fine." he chuckled and took your hand, two of you walking home and chatting about his missions and stuff happening in your lives while you were away. You already left your gift on the table, hoping he will be surprised. It was a huge chocolate cake that had 10 kinder eggs around.

As you finally arrived home, you quickly left him behind to wait next to the cake.

"Why are you rushing so..." Tachihara wanted to ask, but as soon as he saw the cake, his mouth opened wide. He was shocked and saw you standing next to it, proudly smiling. He took few steps forward as he looked at the cake, mouth and eyes wide open.

"You didn't!" he proclaimed excitedly as he quickly took one of the kinder eggs to inspect it.

"I did!" you smiled at him and he put the egg down and pulled you into a hug.

"You truly are a little bastard, is this why you were so excited?" he smiled and you nodded at him. He hugged you thightly and gave you a kiss on the lips making you giggle.

"Well then, I guess I can wait a bit before I open them." he smiled and went to his backpack, taking out big, red cotton bag. He gave it to you and it was really heavy. You looked at him, questioning expression in your eyes.

"You might want to open in on the couch." he said as he rubbed back of his head. You went to the couch, turning the bag around and you saw plenty of rocks and shiny crystals dropping out of it. There were all colors - from black, white, purple, brown, grey, mixed and all type of crystals - amethyst, rose quartz and others. You looked at awe and started inspecting them with your fingers.

"I took every rock and crystal that reminded me of you, I hope you like them." he said slightly nervous because he wasn't the best at expressing his emotions.

"I love them! You are such a sweetheart, you know?" you said and quickly jumped to hug him. You looked up at him and he smiled, kissing your forehead.

"I am glad to hear that baby, now can you help me open my kinder eggs, please?" he said and you could tell he was impatient and excited. You nodded, happy and enjoying the lovely moment with him. You spent rest of your day catching up, cuddling and opening kinder eggs that Tachihara was insanely worked up about. It was truly an amazing day.

Special mentions

Yokomizo

You went to drugstore to buy things for bath that you had in mind for Yokomizo. You just wanted him to relax and enjoy this day, taking a break from work and writing. You bought everything you need and as you entered your garden, you picked up roses because it would be a nice touch. You arrived home and greeted Yokomizo who seemed to be working so you didn't want to bother him and immediately went to the bathroom, preparing a bath. You put on candles, burned sticks in smell of lavander, filled the tub and put in gel that smelled like a fresh breeze carrying nature and its smells. It was full of bubbles and beautiful foam so you dropped rose petals on top, adding to the athmosphere. You turned off the lights and it truly looked enchating, healing and romantic. You also made sure to leave some snacks behind and a book so he can relax and enjoy.

You came to him, who seemed to be finishing his work.

"Honey, I made you a bubble bath." you said shyly, hoping he will like it. Yokomizo smiled and stood up, taking few steps towards you.

"Did you now?" he smiled and gently brushed your cheek with his thumb. You nodded and he looked at you lovingly, placing a kiss on your forehead.

"Thank you my love. Not to be bothersome, but could you please clean up my desk and then join me afterwards?" he said in apologetic tone, but still sounded confident for some reason. You nodded again, earning his smile and he stroked your cheek one more time as he went to the bathroom.

You went to his table and saw a big paper.

It said "All my peace, love and reason is you." written in calligraphy. Your heart felt warm, your face covered in wide smile as you quickly went to join Yokomizo in the bathroom. Two of you spent rest of your day in romantic, relaxing and loving manner truly enjoying each other.

The End :)

Thank you for reading and I truly hope you enjoyed this!

Thank you for all love you gave me so far, it truly means a lot and I deeply appreciate it :)<3

Kisses on the forehead for everyone hehe

1K notes · View notes

shankschewtoy · 10 months

Note

HELLO MY GORGEOUS EVOU DEAR <333

imma say this with no shame, i’ve never submitted a single request before 💀 yes, not a single one even tho i’ve been here for almost 2 years now -

so as you’ve submitted an amazing request for me before, i’m here to submit one ;)))

can we please get our beautiful doctor law, lost in the woods zoro and for the sake of august 6, our favourite rubber ball luffy with an S/O who looks absolutely perfect, but can’t seem to understand that she’s flawless and still gets self conscious all the time because she thought that people were staring at her and complementing her to make fun of her? like she thought that all those words were fake and people were being sarcastic.

i’m nowhere near flawless but i thought that a guy back in high school were making fun of me for all the compliments 💀 when we talked for the first time in a while a few weeks ago, i talked about that and he was offended af like ‘i literally told you i tho j you’re beautiful and cute everyday, how am i making fun of you you little-‘ 💀

so yeah, thought it’d be a fun little scenario <33

hope you’re doing good!! in case you haven’t heard it from someone today, ily <33

-leah

a/n - HI MY DEAREST LEAH 💜💜 AHHH TY FOR REQUESTING! I loved the request you did for me omg I still have it saved and I keep going back to it :)) ilysm and i love this idea 😭 and yes that guy from your high school is right, you’re literally amazing and gorgeous and I will make a point to tell you that (this is a threat)

Warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, kinda crack (I’m sorry I can’t ever be serious)

- this guy has no shame and will tell you everyday that you look awesome

- “Oooo! That outfit looks badass y/n!”

- “WHOAA YOU LOOK LIKE SHANKS!” He had sparkles in his eyes, I mean- he just thought you looked so cool because you were wearing a super long coat! And colorful- pants.. (Just take it as a compliment I know it’s not a compliment but it is to Luffy) shanks has horrible fashion sense

- btw you changed out of your outfit that day 💀

- In public, you’re literally so perfect that even marines don’t want to capture you. They’re too dumbfounded that you’re so gorgeous, their brains literally explode, and they become dumb asf just looking at you

- but- you happened to think that they’re staring at you because they think you look weird or ugly

- So you cover up most of the time, all the staring has made you even more self conscious than before. Even when people compliment you, it seemed fake even though they were telling you the truth

- Luffy noticed you got uncomfortable with all the staring so he literally started growling and hissing at them (he’s feral) and acted as your little rubber guard dog

- “hey don’t look at y/n!”

- he didn’t know that they were looking at you because you were pretty, he thought they were admiring how strong and cool you looked

- so before that, he was all proud and showing you off in public

- “Isn’t y/n cool?! Yeah shishishi~ I know!”

- “Literally no one asked.” -random civilian

- luffy beat them up, no one talks smack about his gorgeous, beautiful, awesome y/n

- one day you got the courage to tell Luffy what you’d been feeling, and asked him if he really thought you were as cool and beautiful as he said you were

- “Huh?”

- man was confused. Like what? Are you joking right now? Because it’s not a very funny joke 💀

- “What do you mean?? I thought I told you yesterday that you looked as cool as shanks?”

- luffy that’s not a compliment when it comes to clothes

- “Yeah but- are you sure? I don’t think I look that cool.”

- he was so confused, how could you not think you looked cool??? His brain wasn’t working right, it just didn’t- make sense!

- “Y/n, you’re awesome! I don’t lie like Usopp! BELIEVE ME! YOU’RE AWESOME AND COOL!”

- he started shaking you around and wrapping his arms around you about 6 times, choking you and preventing you from breathing

- “OK- LET ME GO PLEASE I CANT BREATHE.”

- “NOT UNTIL YOU SAY YOU’RE COOL!”

- “OKOK I’M COOL!”

- “Shishi!! Ok!”

- it was a traumatic wake up call. Let’s just say that now you believe what Luffy says 😭

- he might not say it that often, but he thinks you’re a literal angel sent from heaven (has never said that to you because he’s a shy guy)

- but if you’re perceptive enough, you can catch him staring at you wherever, and whenever

- you could be tidying up the submarine, and he just can’t help but stare at you, his work can wait

- his eyes are blessed every time he sees you, I mean- how could you be so perfect? When you turn around to look at him, he’ll look back down at his work at the speed of light, trying to hide his red ears with his hat

- you swore you could’ve seen him staring, but whenever you ask, he just ignores you, “I don’t know what you’re talking about y/n. I’ve been working.”

- “you were staring at me.”

- “No I wasn’t.”

- “Yeah you were!”

- “Yeah because you look pretty in that shirt!”

- a silence echoed throughout the submarine, and both of your cheeks started to turn pink

- “You think I look pretty? Really??”

- man wanted to run away, but he didn’t want to make you feel bad, so he just awkwardly hid behind his hat in a cheap effort to make it seem like he wasn’t turning as red as a tomato

- “Yeah.. You’re pretty.”

- That right there is probably the biggest and most meaningful compliment you’ve ever received

- But still, even with a lot of other people saying you were pretty in public, it still felt like you just didn’t believe them

- all the staring actually made you even more self conscious, were their compliments just fake? They didn’t really mean their words?

- you weren’t THAT gorgeous right? (YES YOU ARE)

- “Law do you think I’m pretty?”

- He almost choked on his tea, he was literally shocked that you’d ask that dumb of a question. He looked mad at you, but then quickly wiped that expression off his face

- “Y/n. Bepo has made fun of me for WEEKS about how I keep staring at you. I don’t know how else to say it-? You’re pretty! Ok?”

- you’d never seen law so flustered before, his cheeks were literally bright red, his ears flushed the same color

- the great surgeon of death was at a loss of words because he couldn’t express in words just how beautiful and amazing you were. But law being as red as a tomato was kinda funny 😭

- “Law… You look like a tomato..”

- “Don’t make fun of me! And don’t tell the crew.”

- sorry law, but they were watching the whole time 💀

- with the way zoro is, he’s kinda bad at giving compliments, and he’s better at insulting people (mostly sanji)

- but when he first met you, he almost dropped his beer. He was amazed at how perfect and gorgeous someone could look

- he questioned whether he had died or not because wtf you looked like an angel

- since he was drunk, he swore he could’ve seen wings and a halo on top of your head 😭

- little did he know, you’d be joining the crew, and he’d be able to spend all the time in the world with you :)

- Zoro truly did believe you were some angel, all throughout your time together, he was still confused whether or not he had died and gone straight to heaven

- “Zoro?? Hello? Are you sleeping with your eyes open?!”

- he hadn’t realized that he’d been staring at you for so long that he looked like he had just been sleeping with his eyes open 💀💀💀

- “Uh no? I’m awake.”

- “You’re staring through my soul.”

- “Huh? I can’t help it if you’re so pretty! It’s your fault!”

- “WHA-??”

- zoro then paused, he had just admitted outwardly and quite loudly that you’re pretty. And bro just blamed it on you 😭

- “Why is it my fault?! And- I’m pretty?”

- marimo didn’t answer because he was so embarrassed

- “DON’T START STARING AGAIN PLEASE.”

- “I’M NOT STARING.”

- “YOU’RE LOOKING AT ME!”

- this argument continued for a while before Nami told you two to shut the fuck up so she could get her beauty sleep :’)

- but still, did zoro really think you were that pretty?? A lot of people told you that, but it felt more meaningful coming from him

- so a little while after your argument, you went up to him and just blatantly asked him

- “Zoro, do you think I’m pretty?”

- “I literally told you that an hour ago.”

- “yeah I know but do you really think so?”

- “Y/n why tf would I say it if I didn’t mean it?”

- Welp. There’s your answer, but your question kinda made him pissed 💀

- “Zoro I was just asking!”

- “Why though?! You don’t make any sense!”

- yeah don’t start with him- he just doesn’t get it, but you managed to get him to say you’re pretty about 30 times in that same argument so 👍

a/n - damn zoro 💀

489 notes · View notes

melodic-haze · 3 days

Note

h-hey 👯‍♀️😕😜🎀

Since you said in your other post that you wanted to write for either Miko or Ei, I HAD AN IDEA!!

What if Miko and fellow kitsune!Reader who start their breeding months (in january obviously) and have Ei volunteering herself to them not knowing that they can’t obviously be sated in just one day 🙄 (r.i.p her cunny)

☆ — DEMO TRACK: switch!Miko x sub!Ei x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Reader and Miko can shift what they want (specifically their genitals 😄), knotting and breeding (not really)

☆ — NOTES: You. YOUUUUUU. Are such a genius ily anon ty for this 🙏🙏🙏

Ohhhh this bitch REALLY fucked around and found out LOL I almost feel bad.......almost

Have to hand it to Ei though, she DID try to research before proposing the idea in the first place. Especially since this is set in the first year since she got out the PoE........but studying it obv won't be the same as the real thing LOL

You and Miko have fared relatively okay on your own—the two of you have ABSOLUTELY mated before to ease each other's heat but it always felt like something was missing. You both made sure to take procedures to make sure neither of you ever concieved a child after the process with the excuse of the two of you being way too busy to care for one but like. The actual main reason was that if you were to have a child, you both wanted to have the third piece of the puzzle there with you

Now that the third member of your polycule's back, your heats are STRONGER THAN EVER bc wtf she's acc here??? Ughfhghfhh neeeeeed......like do you get me I hope you do

It wasn't as if it was a normal discussion to have out in public (you both always talked about it indoors until neither of you needed to really talk ab it anymore from all the time spent w each other) but it was a nice picnic between the three of you; Ei's head was on Miko's thighs as she ate up yet ANOTHER skewer of tricolour dango while you were leaning on the latter's side when she brought it up

Ei cleared her throat with a slight tinge of nervousness, "Could I perhaps, ah.. assist the both of you in your mating period?"

You choked on the dango that you were about to swallow as you see Miko startle the slightest bit, nearly dropping her novel in the process.

When you managed to regain your composure (or at least a modicum of it), you could only rush out a simple "'scuse me?" as Miko placed her book down to the side with a raised brow.

Miko combed her fingers through Ei's hair as she questioned, "What brought this on, dear?"

"Well..." The Archon licked her lips as she slowly got her words out, "I've.. left you two for over five hundred years. And while I'm glad that you both had each other for company whenever the season hits, I cannot deny that.. well, I feel bad, I suppose."

"You feel bad," the shrine priestess mocked, which.. really, wasn't all that undeserved, despite the fact that she was mocking the nation's leader.

"For a lack of a better word, yes." She sits up and turns to the both of you, putting the now-empty skewer aside, "Now that I have returned from my admittedly self-imposed isolation, it would be remiss of me to.. avoid my duties as your lover."

"I don't mean to be rude, Your Excellency," you teased, "but do you even know what you're saying? You've been in the Plane of Euthymia for so long; I worry for your safety."

You hear the pink fox envoy let out a quiet snort of amusement for your slight condescension (all in good faith, of course) as Ei sighed, "I think you forget that I am not a fragile mortal who needs to be coddled—I can withstand brutal wars and come out victorious."

"Besides," she adds, "I have done a fair amount of research to refresh my knowledge. I assure you both that I can take whatever it is you give me."

Miko mused, "I thought you knew better than to rely on textbook information rather than actual experiment, Ei."

"You're trying much too hard to dissuade me from my offer."

"We both deserve to rib into you for at least a couple hundred years."

"Especially considering how we've been left to fend for ourselves..."

"I.. suppose I do deserve that. And I want to make amends for it all, starting with this. So.. will you let me help? Please?" She looked at the both of you with such sincerity despite the subject matter.

...

The fact that Raiden Ei herself was begging the two of you though...

The both of you jumped her sides with sharing grins, your ears flicking in sync as you let out your own laughs.

"You should hope that you don't regret that, Ei.."

"..Because we are rather.. insatiable."

Then comes the actual thing and ohhhhh girlie was NOT prepared

When I said your heats get worse bc of how Ei's back, I fucking MEAN IT. It's the fact that that familiar sweet smell isn't just a not-quite-forgotten memory for you two anymore that it's just driving you both abslutely NUTS

When she gets to you two she gets POUNCED ON and there is. Basically no break for her at all and foreplay is basically foreGONE atp tbh

Eat her cunt like a bitch STARVED it's like both you and Miko are competing and assisting each other at the same time like who can eat her out better, who can make her squirt, etc etc

SO MANY BITE MARKS ON HER HOLY SHIT like okay yes on you and Miko as well but both of you want to mark Ei EXTREMELY for all the time you've lost with her. The both of you wanna show both Ei and perhaps the entirety of Inazuma that archon is YOURS at the end of the day......at least, if the loud noises didn't give them enough of a hint 🤷‍♀️

You're so right anon rip Ei's cunny indeed bc both you and Miko ABUSE the living HELL out of it❗️❗️❗️ You do often have to personally pry Miko off when she's overstaying in the spot you're supposed to share 🫶🫶🫶🫶 just tell her she's being a VERY bad girl rn and she'll fold. Usually she wouldn't but the haze (lol) in her mind is sooo fucking thick she can't think straight and she can't think of the witty remarks she would've otherwise made :((( poor baby the only thing she wants to do is breed and get bred :(((((((

I need to spitroast her with Miko so very badly I'm ngl to you I neeeed I NEEEEED I need to see Ei being impaled on both ends, both sides basically slobbering

It'd be very messy and would 100% take so long before you finish but when you do, it's with your fellow kitsune's own pussy practically filled to the brim and Leaking as she's laid out and finally passed out as your hips are locked in on your Archon's own; you cumming inside of you for like the nth time and stuffing her full w a mix of both your and Miko's cum and essentially plugging it with an inflamed bulb :3

Whether Ei has a system that allows her to get pregnant or not, gen who knows.......but one thing's def for sure. Or like three things acc: one, you two are VERY clearly excited that your shared lover is finally back; two, turns out she absolutely LOVES being used and bred by her two partners; and three?

It was an unusually hard thing to do, waking up. Despite having an artifical body and being an archon that has faced true horrors and extreme exhaustion, she found herself absolutely spent from the marathon.. copulation.

Ei had hoped that her exhaustion meant that the two of you were much more tired than she was, even despite your inhumanity, and yet...

Her eyes couldn't help but flutter open as a sudden gasp left her lips—she sees you push into her roughly with a lust-addled look on your face. You were already inside her when she fell asleep, considering the animalistic knot that held the both of you together, but even when it had shrunk to a more.. manageable level, you still hadn't taken it out.

Then Ei looks slightly to the right and there she sees her pink-haired familiar, heavily breathing as she grinded her wet, hot pussy onto her thighs with such loud, obscene moans.

(If the Archon listened close enough, which she did, she would've noticed the slight growl to the sounds she made—such a sound was at its most clearest when she ducked down to press another bite mark on porcelain skin.)

She couldn't even utter a word to remark that she had just woken up, didn't even have the room to do anything to stop you before you started pounding away at her like your life depended on it.

..And she could. Really, she could. She wasn't the feared Raiden Shogun for nothing.

She could stop you if she wanted to.

If she wanted to.

But when she feels the residual fluids within her gush out as you essentially resculpt her insides over and over and over, when she feels the desperate whines that Miko lets out as she cums and covers her thigh in slick, well.

She finds that she doesn't really want to.

(And really, not only was it her fault for volunteering, but this is her responsibility as your lover.)

(She knew that, and she wasn't going to start shirking her responsibilities again.)

(Even if it costs her her mobility for a while. But it's fine, she can just do a lot of maintenance after.)

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intheorangebedroom · 4 months

Text

Tonight you belong to me, chapter 2

Summary: He comes to you every Friday, in a shady motel on the outskirts of town.

Two months have passed since your first time at the motel with Frankie. What has changed, what hasn't. Who are you now?

Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!Reader (OFC)

Rating: Explicit 🔞 PLEASE, see series masterlist for extensive trigger warnings.

A/N: Happy Frankie Friday, Orange besties 🧡 How are you all? Gentle reminder that our Reader is an OFC. In this chapter, we get to know her better, and there are indirect physical descriptions of her. Sincerest apologies to anyone who knows Tampa. I did a lot of research, but I'm afraid my ignorance will still show… I swear I did my best. Raul is real, though. He's a friend of a very dear friend and he lives in Paris.

@frannyzooey my love, as always, I am in your debt. Thank you for your help. I love you more than words 🧡

I hope you enjoy this one, Orange besties, it made me sweat blood, @dreamymyrrh and @pedrit0-pascalit0 had to listen to my constant whining to put me on life support. Ily 🧡

Word count: 8.6k

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Chapter 2: Closer

The traffic is dense, but you spot Ava’s red Toyota as soon as it turns into E 7th avenue.

On any given Saturday, the upbeat neighborhood is bustling with cheerful crowds of leisured weekenders and hip thirty-something. On this particular Saturday, the first after Thanksgiving, the streets are a vision from hell.

There’s a constant ballet of cars pulling in and out along the curbs. On each side of the avenue, the sidewalks are swarming with jittery shoppers, frenetically prospecting for good deals on potential Christmas gifts. You’re willing to bet that most of them will stretch their budget thin on useless, meaningless knickknacks. Generic trinkets without soul nor purpose but that will, for the first half hour of ownership at least, fill the void in their consumers’ existence.

The traditional Christmas tree of unholy proportions is up and sparkling. Wrapped around the iron porch columns, electrical garlands blink in rapid sequences like luminescent spasmodic snakes. Storefronts are decorated with more or less taste. The temperature has dropped twice below 70. It’s that time of the year.

The merry season usually finds you adding a generous helping of anxiolytics to your daily cocktail of little helpers. This year, however, you haven’t popped a pill in days, and everything feels… more. Louder, too vivid, more oppressive. Sensations magnified and emotions amplified. Which is, after all, what you were aiming at when you unilaterally decided to taper off your intake.

Ava miraculously secures a free spot on the other side of the avenue, about a hundred yards in front of yours. You watch her parallel park, the maneuver surprisingly sloppy, given the parking assist technology the brand-new hybrid car is equipped with, and you wonder if you really needed to spend that much money on it.

In front of your own parked car, pedestrians agglutinate at the crosswalk. When the light turns green, they move as one, like flocks of extras on a movie set, coming to life on cue when the director yells “action!”

They’re not extras, however, each one of them is the main character in the movie of their life. Together they form a constellation of individual and interconnected stories, while you stand at the margin, forever exhausted, willfully forlorn. At best, a supporting part in Ava’s fantastic tale of eccentric adventures, but more likely a backdrop in your father’s gripping success story.

Although, your narrative has changed drastically over the past two months. You now got a part in your own right, unfolding in between takes.

You wait until Ava gets out of her vehicle before you exit yours, reluctant to leave the hushed safety of your old sedan’s cab, even for the few minutes it’ll take you to meet with her and step into the coffee place.

You wave at her from across the busy street until she sees you, but when she proceeds to jaywalk over to you, reckless and entirely indifferent to your pleading expression, you have to avert your eyes. There’s a crosswalk right in front of you, god dammit.

She levels up with you and pecks a kiss on your cheek, hitting your cheekbone with force, more headbutt than demonstration of affection.

“Hey,” she says, barely stopping in her tracks before she pushes open the glass door to the coffee shop.

“Hello, pup,” you answer fondly, your words lost to the street’s bustle.

Inside, the artificial air instantly pulls at your skin. The atmosphere is cool but dry, saturated with the smell of freshly grounded coffee beans and greasy-sweet pastries. The high-ceiling, cement floor, wide open-space is packed. The brick walls reverberate the ambient noises, and the late morning sun beams brightly through the large floor-to-ceiling windows, evenly spaced along the lateral walls. People sit in small parties around the white designer tables, sipping iced coffees from tall red paper cups with white snowflakes, large shopping bags at their feet.

Trying your best not to shrink and shrivel from the multiple overwhelming stimuli, you focus on Ava’s back, walking behind her as she leads the way to a free table at the rear of the coffee shop, between the counter and one of the windows. There’s a regal quality to her gait and the way she carries herself, not unlike your father, the resemblance enhanced by her preference for masculine clothing, and you have to love the irony, given how much she hates the man. She has your mother’s beauty, though. The same luxurious dark hair, fair, flawless skin, and wide green eyes, her frame tall, her figure athletic. She’s the masterpiece. Next to her, you look like a clumsy first draft, with blurry edges and hesitant features.

She throws her jean jacket on the back of her chair and collapses on her seat with a theatrical sigh.

Across from her, you sit down gingerly on the edge of the hard wooden chair, balancing your weight around the sore and delicious ghost sensation of Frankie between your hips.

“You look good,” you start.

“Yeah, you too!” she exclaims, like it’s unexpected, “tired but like, good. Are you getting any sleep?”

You smile, waving your hand dismissively.

“Don’t we have to go to the counter to order?”

“No, it’s fine,” she answers, “they serve at the table. I’m having an oat milk matte, what do you want?”

“An espresso, I think.”

Right on cue, a young woman dressed in a black cropped top and black skinny jeans presents herself at your table and proceeds to tap in your order on a rectangular electronic device. Her long acrylic nails hit the screen with a rapid succession of click-click-click. The sound brings you back to your parents' dining-room, the large table standing like an angular island on the shiny square of reflective tiles, in the middle of a shag carpet ocean. Your mother’s nails, painted in Revlon Desirable #150, rattling impatiently over the lacquered surface of the dining table near her untouched plate and a glass of G&T sweating with condensation. She never ate her food. She drank even when she was pregnant.

Your fingers find the back of your knee and pinch the thin skin there, so hard you flinch.

The waitress waltzes off, and Ava returns her full attention to you.

“I’m happy to see you,” she offers, and you smile softly at her uncustomary expression of affection. Your chest expends. “It’s been a while.”

There’s no reproach in her tone, but you are usually the one expressing ill-concealed concern over her long silences, and the reversal in your dynamic throws you off. Guilts gnaws at you. You choose defense.

“You were away.”

“Yeah, but like, I came back three weeks ago.”

Three weeks. Your smile fades and you slump in your chair, running a quick mental calculation.

Time has never been an easy concept for you to grasp, but until recently, you’ve managed to remain afloat and functioning, on a practical level at least, amidst a society that revolves around schedules and timetables. The watch on your wrist, yearly organizers, recently and reluctantly replaced by the iCal app on your phone, sticky notes, tin boxes filled with tickets stubs… All clutches to your failing memory, anything to keep you tethered against an overpowering and primal instinct to escape, let go, drift away. And perhaps, most of your exhaustion stems from this endless swimming-race against the current.

Lately, your inability to remember appointments, to navigate time and hold an effective grasp on reality has reached a new high. For the past two months, your life has revolved around Friday nights and the sound of a red pickup truck pulling in and out of a decrepit motel’s parking, tires screeching on the gravel. Inside this timeframe, your entire life is contained. Around it, the days stretch, spiral, and blend. And you’ve lost all motivation and interest in any counter-current swimming.

You frown slightly, scanning her face, but she doesn’t let on anything out of the ordinary. After all, if she genuinely worried, if she so badly needed to see you, she could have given you a call. You were the one to reach out and ask to see her this morning.

Something’s different about her, in the way she holds herself straighter on her seat, with her legs crossed and her head tilted to the side, exposing the undercut she got before the summer. You’re still not entirely sure if this was the bold fashion statement she claimed it to be, rather than a dramatic reaction to her girlfriend moving back to New York. With Ava, it could be both. She’s not wearing any makeup today, her face looks disarmingly young, and the concern she’s expressed, however subtle, churns your insides with guilt and affection.

You plaster a polite smile on your face.

“Well, I’m here now. It’s good to see you, too. Tell me, how was New York? How’s Polly?”

The waitress returns with the pastries and beverages you ordered, and Ava begins to narrate her two-week trip to the big city. She speaks fast, punctuating her words with large gestures to describe the cultural buoyancy, the hip neighborhoods and her thrifts finds, the street food and the refined, cutting-edge restaurants, how everything is bigger there, faster and better, how she fell safe walking hand in hand with Polly, the clubs, the galleries, the weather, crisp air and chilly winds from the north, a refreshing, comforting seasonality to pace the existence.

“I was fucking crying when I boarded the plane back, you have no idea.”

“Oh, I can imagine,” you sigh, shaking your head. “You don’t miss her too much?”

She doesn’t answer, and something in the way she avoids your gaze makes you frown again.

Polly and you have always gotten along well. You genuinely appreciate her solar personality and her worldly conversation. Their encounter four years ago had been the silver-lining in an otherwise horrendous year. The happy, coincidental consequence of a chain of events that had been years in the making.

When Ava dropped out of college halfway through her freshman year, it provided your father with the excuse he had been waiting for to kick his own child out of his house. You had seen it coming. In fact, you had spent your entire adult life shielding Ava from the paternal discontent, investing all your strength into becoming the son and successor he had wished for, and that neither of you could ever be.

Ava, however, had never put in the effort. She didn’t fit into the family portrait. She never had. You didn’t want her to, and she simply couldn’t. Too rebellious, decidedly unconventional, and, well, queer, to boot. Your father had spent years formatting you and there she was, standing proud, strengthened by your unconditional support, a glaring highlight of your diverging values, a breathing reminder of his failure with you both.

In the aftermath of the fall-out, Adrian had refused to take her in, and she had spent days out of your sight, sleeping god knows where. Eventually, you’d dug your heels in, as you only ever did when Ava was concerned and her wellbeing on the line, and obtained that she move in with you. The cohabitation hadn’t gone smoothly in the least. As usual, Adrian was more concerned about potentially upsetting your father than making you happy. You were once again caught between crossed fires.

The strained situation with your fiancé notwithstanding, Ava couldn't spend her time sitting idly at home. You had pleaded with her for weeks before she agreed to resume her studies. Only this time, it had to be with your funding. The realization that you didn’t have any consequential money of your own had been brutal, even though it shouldn’t have been a surprise: you lived in Adrian’s apartment, and were employed by your father, who refused point-blank to let you sell some of your company shares, knowing the money would go to his estranged daughter.

All you could afford was Hillsborough Community College, but things had eventually taken a turn for the better when Ava and Polly had met. Polly was teaching psychology, waiting for a tenure that she would never be granted. Because of the 20-year age gap between them, she insisted Ava graduate with her BA before they started properly dating. And when they did, the improvement in your sister’s mental state and overall balance was immediately noticeable.

Calm and collected, affectionate and thoughtful, Polly grounds your young sibling. She eases her anger and channels her energy into creative and fruitful endeavors, without snuffing her rebellious temper.

And now, despite Ava being almost fully independent, with a job and a place of her own, you don’t know what you’d do if they were to break up. If one of them were to decide that a long-distance relationship is not what she wants.

You lean forward, your hand coming to rest over hers, warm and smooth. “Hey pup, what’s up? Is everything ok between you two?”

“Oh yes,” she quickly assures you, withdrawing her hand, “and by the way, she sends you her best.”

Understanding downs on you like a bucket of ice. You suddenly feel stupid, pathetically naive, forever one step behind. Leaning back in your chair, you let out a short, soundless huff. What you’re facing is not a breakup, but the likely possibility that Ava will soon move out of town to follow Polly to New York.

Ava is talking again, about New York you’re guessing, but you can’t focus on her words. Behind your impassive eyes and your attentive smile, your mind reels and wrestles with a downpour of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Pride flares in your chest at the prospect of your baby sister setting roots in a city as intimidating as New York, but it tugs at something else, something you’re too scared to consider, and an ugly feeling you’re reluctant to acknowledge.

Would she hesitate before leaving you behind, after you’ve prioritized her freedom over yours? After you stayed so she could fly away? And wouldn’t it be the point?

Your eyes travel up along the trail of small tattoos adorning her forearms. Dominos, tea cups, a white rabbit with round glasses, a flamingo, several thin arrows, a broken heart in flames.

What’s your purpose, if she’s not here anymore? If someone else is looking after her? If your sacrifice is no longer necessary nor justified?

“How was Thanksgiving dinner? Did you have fun talking about politics with Richard?”

You wince involuntarily at your father’s name. She never refers to them as “mom” and “dad.” She hasn’t for a long while. But today the sarcasm doesn’t fool you, no more than her feigned indifference.

She’s not truly asking if you had to bite your tongue and smile through conversations that make you nauseous. She knows well enough you’ve got just enough political convictions to carry you to the voting poll, but hardly a step further. Listening to him is painful, but you get by, and your shameful silence buys you necessary peace.

No, what she wants to know is if your family inquired about her. And you don’t have it in you to answer that no, no one has, not last Thursday, not for the past four years, not ever. Not your indifferent father, nor your inebriated mother. Not your bigot grandparents, not your egotistic aunt and her gold-digging husband, not even the housekeeping staff.

You shrug noncommittally.

“Who were the guests of honor, this year?”

The question makes you groan and briefly close your eyes at the memory.

“Adrian’s parents.”

“No?! Fuck! They really want this marriage to happen, don’t they? Looks like you’re not gonna be able to dodge much longer.”

She smacks her hand over her thigh, letting out a short staccato of a chuckle, as if the subject of your confinement through marriage was a laughing matter. You glare at her, crossing your legs and folding your arms over your chest, but the shifting in your demeanor goes unnoticed.

Suddenly, her levity riles you up. She got away. You didn’t. And the only thing that carried you through this year’s Thanksgiving dinner is the perspective of being fucked senseless by a stranger on a dirty motel floor the following night.

For a brief moment, you’re tempted to bite, and retort that, contrary to her, you didn't spend the holiday on your own. But the truth is that you envy her the privilege, and she knows it.

Taking a deep breath that does absolutely nothing to calm your growing nerves, you stir the conversation towards another topic, finding neutral ground with her job. You’re stalling, and you’re not even good at it. You sit restless on that damn hard chair, squirming uncomfortably, sweat prickling under your armpits in the chill artificial air, eyes flicking down to your watch every other second.

“Do you have to be somewhere, or something?”

Your head shoots up. Again, you have no idea what she’s talking about, or how long she’s been rambling for. This is ridiculous. You are being ridiculous.

“Listen, Ava, I have to ask you something. A favor. I have to ask you a favor.”

Her eyes widen at your sudden change of tone but she nods. “Hit me.”

“I need you to… I need to be able to tell Adrian that I spend… that I spend Friday nights at your place. Actually, I’ve already been doing it for a while. He thinks we see each other on Friday evenings. I just… I need more time. I need the night.” You grip your shin with both hands and dig your nails in. “It really doesn’t matter anyway, he’s not home on Fridays, he plays poker and he never comes back until like, 3 or 4am, and I just need— I need to be able to come home after him. Not, like, every week. Or yes, maybe every week. Just in case. If ever. You know?”

She remains completely still and silent as you wrestle your words out of your throat. Her face hardens, her wide, green eyes strained on you. She gauges you in silence for another moment, while you rub your clammy palms on your jeans under the table. Above the table, you do your very best to maintain a casual air.

“And what exactly is it that you do, on Friday nights?”

You anticipated the question, of course you did. You swallow around the sharp stone stuck in your throat. Your eyes dart down to your espresso cup. It’s empty.

“I’m just taking a bit of time off for myself.”

More time, to commit his body and his face to your long-term memory after he’s left you, depriving you of his heat. The tiny bits of him that add up to form the formidable sum of the man he is. The locks that curl around his ears. The dip in his collarbone. The little target tattooed on his hand. You’re never sure which hand it’s on, you need more time, that’s all. And you won’t lie to her, not exactly. You set your mind on that early on. But you will not tell her the whole story.

A large shit-eating grin slowly parts her plump lips.

“Are you telling me that Richard’s favorite daughter is getting some side dick on a weekly fucking basis?”

“Jesus, Ava, why do you always have to be so crude?”

“But you are? Right? You are getting dicked down, every fucking Friday night? Right? Are you on Tinder, or something?”

“I’m not—” you start, but her excitement is louder than your exasperation. She uncrosses her legs to lean toward you, propping her elbows on the table and threading her fingers together, talking over you.

“Why didn’t you tell me? For once that something cool–”

“Because there’s nothing to tell,” you retort through clenched teeth, raising your voice. Her mouth hangs open in shock. You don’t give her time to recover. “And look, if you don’t want to do that for me, it’s fine, it’s not like anyone is going to call you to ask if I’m with you.”

She takes the blow, leaning back in her chair. “Wow. You really thought this through, didn’t you?”

You don’t answer, shame and anger burning your cheeks.

“Why you’re telling me now, then?”

“Like I said. In case.”

“I case what? In case I find myself on a Friday evening in the same place Adrian takes his cuntsluts?”

You steel yourself and stare at her.

“Something like that, yes.”

—

Two months.

Two months of lies and deception, shoving your bright secret deep down inside you, shrouded under a veil of routine and normalcy.

Nine weeks, split into six days of stretched out hours, swirling languid and excruciating, like smoke from a cigarette stub in a room without air, and one day of counting. The minutes, your steps, your breaths, your heartbeats.

Saturdays, worn-out, appeased, pleasantly aching. Sundays rising slow like a lurking threat. Mondays-Tuesdays-Wednesdays merging, dragging and useless. People talking to you, expecting words, when your mind is filled with two glistening bodies entwined in golden hues. A tremor on Thursdays, the nearing promise, and by Friday morning you’re all frayed nerves and aching want, tapping into your pent-up emptiness for focus and patience.

Friday evenings sliced up into a ritualized sequence of actions.

At 6pm, you leave your office and head toward the employees' underground parking. There are 37 steps from your desk to the two silver-doors elevators on the landing. Seventeen stories down, including 2 underground levels, and 58 steps from the elevators to your designated parking place. It is crucial that you don’t allow the pace of your steps to catch up with the racing thumps of your heart.

From downtown Tampa, it’s an hour and thirty-six minutes drive north on the 589, before you reach the motel. An hour and fifty minutes, two hours top, if the traffic’s bad. There might be faster alternative routes, but you don’t use the GPS, so you don’t know about them.

Once you’re there, you park in front of room number 7, the one with the missing brass number. You stuff your phone into your purse, which you slide under your seat.

You exit your car and walk towards the reception in short, hurried strides, cursing the tight skirt that hinders your steps and gives your posture a subdued aspect, which is probably why your father imposes the garment on his female employees.

The reception is a square room with an old humming AC unit, dark-brown fabric wallpaper, yellowing popcorn ceiling and a counter behind which sits Raul, the night clerk. Raul is a short man in his mid-60s. His dark eyes are reshaped into tiny concentric boot buttons by the thick lenses of his small, round glasses. His light brown, straight hair is styled in a bowl cut. He only wears beige Henley’s with rolled-up sleeves and indigo painter overalls. You’ve never seen his shoes.

Every week, Raul hands you the key to room number 2 without lifting his boot-button eyes from the charcoal drawing he busies himself over behind the counter, and tells you in a thick accent that “everything has already been taken care of.”

Every week, you thank Raul, grab the key from his stretched out left hand, and chance a glance over the counter to see what he’s drawing. Mountains, infallibly, week after week, the scenery only varying in shape and shades of anthracite.

And every week, as you exit the reception, you feel Raul’s boot-button eyes strained on your back through his round glasses.

When you step inside room number 2, you flick up the two toggle switches by the door, turning on the lights and the overhead fan, and you go to the bathroom to wash your hands and check your reflection in the antique black-edged mirror.

Then, you return to the room and you sit on the bed. That’s where you wait for him.

You don’t undress, you don’t lie down, you don’t undo the bed.

You know what he’ll do to your clothes. Anticipation trickles down along your spine all the way to the ripe heat between your thighs, and it travels right back up to tug up at the corners of your lips, but you press them together, lips and thighs, as you wait.

He comes in after dark, preceded by the sound of tires on gravel and that of his boots stomping on the porch and he’s here, Frankie’s here, the rush of night air from outside when he storms into the room wafting over your face.

He greets you with a hoarse voice, like he hasn’t used it all week, and he takes a couple of long strides towards the desk, where he sets down his cap. You peer at his reflection in the framed mirror when he combs his fingers through his dark curls, tense jaw, creased brow. You study his broad shoulders, the rippling muscles of his strong back, when he takes off his jacket and drapes it on the back of the chair, swift, precise gestures. It’s his own ceremonial, you let him have it, his transition into this world that you share. The confine of this room. Brown carpet, yellow curtains.

When he turns to face you, at last, it’s always with a heavy, grating sigh, a sound so rough and primitive to express his relief, his hunger, the limit of his patience. You stand up slowly, unfurling in slow motion from your sitting position on the edge of the bed, eyes on him, forever and always. His want radiates from him in colorful angry waves, like a tangible, virulent aura, black eyes boring into your skin and you welcome it as it pours out of him and creeps up to you like thick fumes.

You stand tall in the charged stillness of the motel room, offered, but not quite yet within reach, waiting for him to come and seize you.

“Take off your clothes,” he says as he comes closer, tilting up his chin. The command rumbles low and guttural from his throat, and those words are your cue. You clamber out of your statuesque stillness, twisting your ankles out of your pumps while he tugs at your blouse, as he crashes his lips onto yours.

His first kiss is voracious, unescapable, your face trapped between his cupped hands, and you’re engulfed in the taste of him, drowning in the scent of him, leather and soap and musk. And something metallic you have no name for. It’s intoxicating, you’re floating, losing both bearings and balance, like when you were thirteen, and you’d sneak to the downstairs pantry to drink your mother’s gin before dinner.

On some Friday nights, you’ve already made it back to your glass prison when you notice a tear in the seam of your shirt, or a missing button. “Take off those fucking clothes, I wanna feel your skin.”

“Yes,” you answer with parted lips, parted heart, parted life, jaunty fingers working your skirt open.

Beyond that point, neither of you talks much.

It’s his name –Frankie– falling from your lips, a long but quiet whimper when you come, a whine of pleasure-plain when he inches into you, a moan when you plead for more, a whisper when you promise you can take it all.

It’s his clipped orders, sharp and short.

Open up

Push back into it

Let me hear you

I want you to come on it

And two words, always the same since that first time in the parking lot.

Stop me.

Stop me when he pins your hands above your head or folds your arms in the small of your back, his fingers like shackles around your wrists, and he lines himself up. Stop me before his saliva drips down his tongue in fat drops between your breasts, and he straddles your chest. Stop me, when he closes a fist in your hair and slides you down along his hard length, your chest caving in under your gag reflex, beads of tears like precious shiny diamonds clinging to your lashes. Stop me when he angles your spine backwards with a sudden tug on your hair, when he bands an arm across your belly and ragdolls you to the floor to fuck you harder and deeper. Stop me when he ties your wrists to your ankles with the black zip ties that bite into your flesh.

Stop me with the flat of his hand pressing down between your shoulder blades, Stop me with his thumb teasing your tight ring, Stop me with your legs around his neck.

Those two words, a beacon guiding you through the week that precedes.

Sometimes, when you’re alone, you repeat them to yourself.

“Stop me,” you say, low and quiet, facing the mirror when you're applying makeup, staring straight into your eyes, so intently it twists your reflection.

“Stop me.” A whisper, and a slow-spreading, carnivorous smile that splits your face in two because someone, at last, wants you beyond reason.

Stop me. You will never stop him.

He fucks you twice, three times a night, before he leaves you covered in him, sated and sprawled on the rumpled bed around 2am, with a nod and a husked, “I’ll see you next Friday.” He sounds calm at last. Drained.

Once he’s gone, in the rumbling of the pickup’s engine and the screeching of the tires, your mental countdown to the next Friday is reset. You crouch into the narrow bathtub of dubious cleanliness, and ruefully wash him away in the trickle of hot water. You try to hold on to the thought of him, even more so than to the feeling of his touch. That’s what the soreness is for. It will stay with you until Monday at least.

But in your memory, his face is blurred. Only his sad angry eyes stand out, dreamlike, entrancing.

There's a conflicting distance beyond his hunger. An underlying restraint beyond his roughness. Withheld intimacy. A reluctance to give into your softest touches, when his forehead briefly rests on the plane of your chest, and you circle his neck, or carefully run your fingers through his sweat-soaked curls.

It doesn’t take a PhD in psychology to understand that if he wasn’t in here with you, he’d be somewhere else, doing something worse.

Some weeks, you go through strings of sleepless nights and restless days of anguish, your mind spiraling to the agonizing thought that you are nothing more to him than an empty and interchangeable vessel into which he can fuck his rage.

With masochistic thoroughness, you pull taut a red woolen thread to connect the clues of your insignificance.

He doesn’t name you. There are no sweet names, no terms of endearment, and he certainly never calls you Marion. The sounds he produces when he’s inside you, that’s your reward. Deep guttural grunts, and if you’re lucky enough, they resonate through your whole body when he holds you tight and close.

He never comes inside you. Where do you want it? he pants, when his hips start to fall out of pace. “Mouth,” you quickly answer, always, a greedy match for his gritty ways. And most times, he obliges. Flips you around or scoot over you and shoves his pulsating cock into your warm, wanton mouth.

But sometimes, he doesn’t. The thick pearly white ropes of his spend spurt over your back, your belly, your chest. That’s when he’s got a mind to rub it into your skin. That’s when you want to believe he might have chosen you to be here with him.

In those scarce instances, you are tempted to rely on your instinctual understanding of your relationship. Far from the toxic codependency that, according to Ava, you feed into with Adrian, what you share with Frankie is elsewhere entirely. Week after week, he presents himself before you, visibly wounded, willing to offer exactly as much as he needs to receive. The balance is perfect. No travesty, complete equality. The purest form of interaction. The most honest transaction you’ve ever taken part in.

And thus, no matter how remote he may seem on some nights, no matter how dark his eyes, how clouded his gaze, or how brutal his hold, you can’t help but feel safe.

The feeling thrums underneath your skin and finds an echo in his bloodstream. You hear it in your shared silence, when you lie side by side on the bed and stare emptily at the ceiling, chests heaving, bodies cooling off. When a shiver rakes through you, he gets up and turns off the overhead fan. Walks over to the bathroom to bring you a glass of water.

He’s given you everything you wanted and didn’t know how to ask for.

And when he looks you in the eyes, he doesn’t blink.

Stop me, he says, and what you hear is, Trust me.

He’s been quick to learn your body, and he’s greedy with your highs. He keeps you pinned down onto the threadbare linen with his mouth fastened around your cunt until your legs tremble and your throat is hoarse with your repeated high-pitched moans, the stubble on his cheeks scraping the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Bestowing pleasure, drinking it right back.

Your body expands into new sensations, after years of a dormant existence, curled up within your outer shell into the tightest ball, the smallest possible shape. You’re spreading, stretching into your limbs, filling them in. Growing nerve endings that shoot farther along your extremities with each fiery kiss, each starving touch, each orgasm, like trees rooting in beautiful, intricate ramifications.

The wild creature nestled between your lungs has a mind of its own. You’re developing emotions unknown to you until now.

The tranquil contentment he leaves you with when he steps back into the night and closes the door behind him rapidly fades over the following days. By Sunday evening, there’s nothing left of it, and you find yourself shivering, deprived of his heat, unsettled, agitated.

Your mind wanders to her. The faceless, nameless woman he drives back to after you’ve fucked each other free of your pain.

Envy, tinged with hatred, pours ugly inside your chest, pressing against your rib cage, hindering your breathing, its heavy particles tainting your oxygen.

Does he handle her with reverence? Does he use sweet names to beckon her into his embrace? Does he spit in her mouth, does she beg him to? Does he rub his spend into her skin, or does he stuff her pussy full of his seed?

Whenever you loosen the grip on your thoughts, you’re brought back to a large reception room on the last floor of another glass prison, stilettos wounding your feet, strangers with empty smiles and cruel eyes drinking from crystal champagne glasses. The excruciating misery of having to interact with Adrian’s colleagues, laughing at golf jokes you did not understand, desperate to fit in. Fighting your survival instinct, to tether yourself and not present a blank stare to those people you were supposed to impress. As Adrian’s fiancée. As your father’s daughter.

The effort seemed worth it, then. You were in love. Or so you thought. In hindsight, you’re not certain anymore. Reinterpreting your past is a temptation you try not to succumb to. In more then one way, you still love him.

There was a hushed tremor in the faceless assembly of tuxedos and cocktail dresses, and you saw her entering the room, parting the crowd. Slender, swaying, lush honey blonde locks and incandescent hazel eyes. Junior partner at Adrian’s firm, quickly climbing the ranks, flawless makeup and oozing self-confidence, she smoked Vogue cigarettes and when your gaze returned to Adrian, everything fell into place. You knew with a chilling certainty that this formidable young woman was fucking your boyfriend.

Adrian had had a couple of flings in the past, but this one was different. He fell for her hard, a grown man in a teenage-like trance. Your blood left your face when you realized everyone else in the penthouse, and most likely in the firm, could see what you were seeing.

You decided then and there that you were never going to marry him, regardless of what he or your father would threaten you with.

But even then, what you had experienced wasn’t jealousy. You’d felt trapped, and yes, betrayed. Wounded, in what little self-esteem you possessed. Thoroughly defeated. But you did not feel jealous.

You understand it now, and every time you think of Frankie’s touch grazing the faceless woman. Every time you torture yourself into considering the nature of their bond and the depth of their attachment.

Would Frankie look at you the way Adrian looked at her? With blunt desire, unabashed, irrepressible thirst? With belonging? Would people around you know? Would they identify you as lovers?

After all, a single glance had been enough for him to take you from a bar, to a parking lot, to a motel. To make you desperate to mean something to him.

Does he miss you outside your shared time? Does he think of you? Does his mind wander to your skin in the blue morning hours, does he try to name your scent?

Deep down, you are no fool. If there’s one thing you’ve always known in this life, it’s your place.

But some Friday nights are more dangerous. They give you too much hope. Prompting you to call your sister, for instance, and risk your little secret so you can spend more time in the small room with the yellow curtains. Wrap yourself in the dirty sheets that bear his musky scent, instead of jumping into the shower. Linger into that breach of your life’s continuum. Extend the delusion.

Last Friday, he buried his face into your core and drew violent waves of release that he kissed back into you, swirling his tongue into your mouth to coat it with your taste.

His face was shiny with your slick and his body glistening with sweat in the soft yellow hues from the bedside lamps, when he got up to the desk and slid his belt out of the loops of his pants.

Your eyes grew wide, but not with fear.

He placed you face down on the bed, with your arms along your chest, and he trapped your body with the belt. You accompanied his movements, docile, curious, without apprehension. The metal buckle was cool on your feverish skin, and the leather smelled like him.

Stop me. He was hard and thick, and he fucked into you in long, thorough strokes, dragging the round tip of his cock along your clenching walls, slamming his hips into the swell of your ass. With his thumb pushing into your asshole and his hand around the belt to keep you where he needed you to lie still.

You came in seismic tides that quaked along your body in concentric ripples, from your wrung out core to the extremities of your fingers and toes. The sound that came out of your throat was unrecognizable, and perhaps it was his. Your mind tipped over into unconsciousness. When you resurfaced, his cock was rubbing in the cleft of your cheeks, his come leaking down the curve of your back, mixing in with your combined sweat, his chest pressing down onto your shoulder blades.

You felt his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, hot breath searing his choked up words into your soul.

“You’re a good girl. Say it. Say you’re a good girl.”

“I’m— I’m—“

“That’s it, say it for me.”

He was lying heavy on top of you, sinking you into the mattress, his belt buckle digging into your side. This was going to leave a mark.

“I’m a good girl.”

“You’re my good girl.”

You will never stop him.

—

Sitting on the edge of the bed, with your back straight and your ankles crossed, you wait. Eyes on the yellow curtains, darting beyond the dusty fabric into the warm December night. It’s yours. All of it. Yours until morning.

There’s the faintest hint of a bad taste sitting on the back of your tongue. Coppery, bloodlike. It comes in waves every time you remember how you twisted your baby sister’s arm into covering for you. But the night is yours. You swallow hard, force a smile. You want to be guiltless, for once.

“Polly says you’re overly secretive. That you like to live ‘hidden between the folds of life’, as she puts it. Something about culpability being a coping mechanism…”

The words, delivered flatly after you’d stubbornly diverted and defused all her questions, had cut through the most tender parts of your flesh.

“Is that her professional opinion?” you had retorted, your chin tilted up as if you were not bleeding inside.

You swallow hard again. If you close your eyes, if you concentrate, you can almost hear it. The pickup’s engine, bolting down the asphalt, bringing him into your needy arms. You can feel the heat radiating from his solid chest and seeping into your body through your palms, resting empty and upwards on your lap. Your tongue tingles with his tangy taste, a trail of goosebumps breaks across your skin, anticipating his caress.

Frankie.

The daydream that carries you through the week, carries you through that very last stretch.

Until the man himself storms into the room like bad weather. Dark, electric, a standing threat.

One look at his face and you know. It’s going to be one of these nights that make you doubt everything.

At first, the change in the script is barely perceptible. There is no gentle acclimatization, no ceremonial, no tacitly shared ritual. He doesn’t face away to let you observe his reflection in the mirror. But he looks like he hasn’t slept since last Friday. The crease in his brow is forbidding, his eyes are too bright, too clouded, circled in black and you’re dizzy with the distance you find there. Tension rolls out from his taut muscles underneath his clothes and you stand up, alert, if not entirely ready.

“Get naked,” he growls, tugging his gray t-shirt over his head, his trucker hat falling to the floor and tonight, you miss your cue.

Instead, you come closer, extending your hands towards him. You call him in a murmur, Frankie, but the wild thumping of his heart under your trembling palms cuts you short.

The light flickers in his eyes, so you hang in brave, hang onto the thread of your touch, sliding your hands up his burning chest. He stills. His gaze focuses on you for the first time since he came in. Your fingertips brush lightly along his collarbone, to the dip at the base of his neck, where they linger, underlining the hollow shape of it, skating around his neck to his nape. His brow shifts, his jaw ticks, and you draw him in for a kiss.

He jolts when your lips meet his. His hands grip your hips, rough and desperate. This is the part where you melt into him, surrender to his touch, but tonight the balance is tipped off. He licks into your mouth with a pained, muffled whimper, and your eyes remain open.

You’re powerless, powerless to get to him and bring him back to you from wherever the hell he may be. And his distance settles between your two bodies, an invisible partition. It stands erect and opaque, projecting its shadow over you when he lies you down on the synthetic quilt and dives between your hips. His ministrations are detached, performative, mechanical. There’s no contained urgency in his handling of you. Empty touches, empty silence, and you orgasm weakly, the sensation floating on the surface of you.

You can sense him, trapped behind his black eyes and this damn crease that splits his face above them, only you can’t reach him. He won’t let you. For every one of your attempts at a caress, at tenderness, is rejected by a shrug, a push of his hand, a shake of his head.

Sweat breaks on his forehead and dampens his curls as he becomes restless, showing none of the familiar signs of the relief he finds in your release, when he hums softly into you, lapping at your entrance to capture what you offer him, what he drew from you. Impatience and desperation roughen his grip on you. He shoves you to the head of the bed and you scramble, sliding on the slippery quilt, curled on your side, until you’re caged between his rigid body and the headboard.

There’s no warning, no Stop me, when he lines himself up with a stifled groan. You bury your face into the pillow and bite down on it to muffle the pain when he splits you open. He starts rutting into you with unrestrained strength, forcing through the vice grip of your tight cunt around his hard length. You try to relax into it. That’s all you ever want, for him to fill you up, to be inside you and around you, but that’s the thing: he’s not touching you. Not really.

Instead of gripping the curve of your hips, or kneading your breast, or lying between your shoulder blades, his hands are clenched on the headboard, white knuckled. His bent knee doesn’t quite touch your folded legs, his hips don’t even slap against the swell of your cheeks.

“Frankie,” you try, but your voice comes out thin as a ripping thread. It’s immediately drowned under the sounds filling the room, the creaking of the bed, his strained breathing.

“Frankie,” you call again, louder this time, reaching to the side to grab his thigh.

He jerks at the contact, sliding out of you with a hiss like you just burned him with a red-hot iron. You grab the side of the headboard to haul yourself up. Behind you, you feel him falling back on his knees. For a few seconds, you can’t bring yourself to move. You remain hunched over, fingers wrapped so tightly on the hardboard, your nails digging into the cheap, tender wood.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, and you turn around to face him.

Your heart sinks and chatters at the sight of him, of his glassy, pleading eyes that won’t meet yours. His chest heaves with exertion, and the weight of something else. He grazes a palm over his face, tilting his head down.

“I hurt you. I fucking hurt you, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Tonight, this is it. These words are your cue.

“No,” you start, scooting closer to him as he shakes his head, exhausted, isolated. The gesture no longer carries the warning it did as he was about to succumb. It’s a measure of his failure, of the depth of his defeat, and it chills you to the bones.

“No,” you repeat, stronger, and you offer him the only lifeline you know.

Closing the physical distance, you straddle his lap and wrap your arms around his shoulders. When his body stiffens, you harden your hold.

“Frankie… Frankie…” you coo, again and again, like his name holds the solution, and all of your devotion. You say it as you press your forehead to his, as you rub your cheek against his stubble, as you nuzzle the sharp edge of his nose, and trace his plush lips with yours.

Until his shoulders sag under your embrace, until you feel the choked up breath that quakes his chest, you keep repeating his name. A few minutes, or an infinity of seconds, time doesn’t matter anymore. The night is yours, your skins are glued together in the soft yellow light.

His arms circle your waist, hesitant at first, but you encourage him, raking your fingers through his hair, twining them into his soft curls. He lets you, he gives in, tucking his face in the crook of your neck. He inhales you there, raising the soft hair on your nape. His voice is broken when he speaks.

“I’m not–”

“Frankie don’t, please don’t,” you cut in.

You know the words that are piling bitter and desperate on his tongue, know them on an instinctual level. You feel them swirling, black and hopeless inside his head, you’ve known them from the very beginning, recognized them in the sadness of his angry stare. And you won’t let him pronounce them inside this room you share, you won’t let him give them any kind of substantiality. Not between your arms, not against your skin.

“I’m not hurt,” you begin, pulling back to see his face, to look into his eyes and sink your words of hope and faith into him, past the barrier of remorse and regret, “I want everything you–” but his brow furrows deeper as he clenches his eyes shut, and you trail off.

Panic briefly floods your brain. You’re acutely aware of your shortcomings and limitations, of all the things you’ve never been taught growing up. How to translate feelings into words, how to express compassion, how to care for others. How to be heard.

You take a deep, shaky breath, your breasts pushing into his chest.

“Look at me, Frankie baby. Look at me. Let me–”

Let me in. Let me be yours. Let me mean something.

Your plea dies on your tongue when his eyes shoot open. They shine with unshed tears, pierced by a ray of light from the bedside table, and for the first time, you see that they’re not black. They were never black. His eyes are brown, a deep, rich, precious mahogany brown. The color paints your vision, it flows into your bloodstream and courses along your veins. It spreads into your heart, gets tangled in your soul. Around you, the whole world disappears, along with everyone in it. There is only him, his mahogany eyes brimming with tears, and the feeling of his hot, damp skin against yours.

His arms wrap tighter around your back, his warmth seeps into your bones. His hands find purchase on your curves, drawing you closer.

“I want you so badly to be real,” he whispers, quiet and pained, like he can’t ask you this much, but you know that, for him, you’re willing to be.

“I’m so sorry,” he says again.

Swallowing down the tremor in your throat, you give him a tender smile, tinted with gratitude, colored with praise. You cup his face, fingernails scratching at the heart-shaped patch on his jawline. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and you give him what he needs, leaning in to press them to his.

Underneath you, his length throbs with unreleased hunger, and you sway your hips over it. He moans against your lips, the vibration trails down to your core like hot, liquid amber. His tongue peaks out, and you open up for him, like you always have, like you always will. A grating sound comes out of his throat, an echo of your gratitude, a mirror of your pain, a reflection of your loneliness.

He breaks the kiss to lift you up gently, helping you find friction with his cock sliding between your folds, where it pulsates hard and thick against your clit. Your limbs turn to molasses, toffee soft and sticky, but your hips lock into a slow, languid rhythm, slick pooling down on him as you stroke him between your two bodies. His right hand skates up flat along your spine, to settle on your nape.

He draws you in closer, closer than you’ve ever been. His heart beats inside your chest, enveloping the purring wild creature you still can’t name or tame.

“Make us come, baby.”

A dry sob undulates up to your throat. Your eyes fill with hot tears, they spill against his temple. Mahogany explodes inside your brain. The night is yours.

“Yes, Frankie.”

“Make us come together.”

****

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tommysversion · 1 year

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Beastly: Raider Era Joel Miller x Reader (Part 1)

Summary: you live in a small commune protected by a strong force of raiders. Every season, your people pay tribute for their protection. After lapsing in payment, your abusive father offers you as a human sacrifice. What you don't expect is for the leader of the gang, Joel, to not be as much of a beastly man as first thought.

A Raider Era Joel fic, loosely inspired by Beauty & The Beast.

CWs: references to abuse (physical), implied fear of SA, canon typical violence, implied age gap, sexual references, coarse language, smut for later chapters. (List will update with chapters)

Chapter Word Count: 3k

Thanks to @gab-thelamb-onthemoon & @joelsgirl for being beta readers & allowing me to infodump about this idea, ILY

Index: Part 2

It’s amazing, how long it took society to peak, in comparison to how easily it fell apart. Rome wasn’t built in a day, but it sure burned in one. In a short fifteen years, since Cordyceps first spread globally, society has all but collapsed.

Oh, sure, there are the QZs, where FEDRA rules with an iron fist. There are smaller settlements where people try to strive for a semblance of ‘normality’.

But mostly? The world outside the military strict QZs has become lawless. It’s kill or be killed, serve or rule, protect or intimidate.

Whereas some people have banded together for the greater good of humanity, for the continued survival of the species? Others have taken advantage of the new order of things, are only out for themselves and those they hold dear.

Joel Miller falls into the latter category.

Maybe once, before the outbreak, he had been a good man. Had had a strong moral compass, a good ethic. He’d been a family man, loved his daughter and his brother more than anything or anyone in the world.

Then the world had gone to hell, taken his daughter from him, and something inside him had broken. It was as though a light had gone out inside him, turning his humanity off.

Gone was the man who had made jokes and smiled easily. In his place was a man scarred and traumatised, who was capable of enormous acts of violence and brutality, who would survive at any and all cost, not for his sake, not really, but for his brother. The only family he had left.

Joel had always been a natural leader, if somewhat reluctant. It had come easily to him, before the outbreak. He was always the damn union rep on site. Always the one people came to for advice, looked to for leadership. Not just Tommy, or colleagues he’d known for years either. He always ended up with an apprentice following him round like a chained puppy, asking questions, looking for guidance.

Maybe it shouldn’t be a surprise at all that he had ended up the leader of this band of people, either. Some were misfits, those who were too anxious to try and venture to the nearest QZ and survive under FEDRA. Some were miscreants who preferred the more lawless lifestyle, who needed a leader so they didn’t venture into abject cruelty. Then there were those like him, who just wanted to survive. Keep going for whatever or whoever they had left.

Joel didn’t necessarily want to live, but he was fucking good at it.

Without his humanity, it made him a damn good leader. His group protected several small settlements, in exchange for supplies. Weapons. Whatever the fuck they wanted.

It was a good deal… for his people. The infected didn’t venture this far out anymore, but the good people in those settlements didn’t need to know that, did they? Their living in fear was his bonus. It kept them in line, and it kept his people alive.

Recently, one of the settlements fell to disease. Leaving just the one small community under his group’s thumb. The occupants aren’t particularly tough, or particularly smart, just ordinary people who have had the luck to survive behind moderately well constructed walls, the wits to bow to those stronger than them for protection.

Only, their resources are running out, spread thin with the approaching winter…

Which is where you come in.

You’re old enough to remember the world before. Maybe you hadn’t been an adult, so you hadn’t had to deal with things the older folks in your community grumble on occasion about missing - work, taxes (mostly something called a tax return), good liquor, supermarkets…

But you do remember.

You remember the world changing overnight. Remember years of struggling, clawing for survival, until this commune had finally put its walls up and hoped for the best.

Then the infected had come, and you’d lost half your numbers. The raiders had taken advantage of the weakness in your people, taken out the infected… for a price.

Now each quarter, your people paid ‘tribute’ to the group of men and women who kept the infected at bay. Really, it was a bribe to keep them from taking over your settlement. Every three months the same half dozen men would show up, fill their truck with supplies and weapons your people had gathered, desperately needed, and promise another three months protection for it.

Nobody’s been attacked since the deal was struck. You guess that’s a good thing. Or there’s something they aren’t telling you.

Your father is the closest thing to a mayor your community has. There aren’t enough of you to need a proper governing body beyond a handful of people, but somehow the task of leadership has fallen to him. Perhaps because nobody else wants to be labeled as the one who bows to the raiders. Or maybe it’s because the last mayor your town had was beaten to death by said raiders for non-compliance, and your father was the only one brave (stupid) enough to volunteer for the job after.

You aren’t stupid. You know a bribe for what it is. Only this quarter, you aren’t sure what the plan is.

The crop yield has been relatively scarce this season. With winter approaching, the settlement doesn’t have much to offer. You’re not stupid, but you know it won’t be enough.

Usually, you stay home when the raiders come for their tribute. Stay inside with the few children of the commune.

This time is different. Your father is lacing his boots, throwing on his threadbare coat, when he springs it on you.

“You’re coming too, this time. We need to show our numbers.”

It doesn’t occur to you until you’re halfway to what passes as the town square that that’s the precise opposite of what your father usually says. That a show of strength is what got his predecessor killed. But you know better than to question him; he won’t shout at you, he’ll just be condescending, or more likely, won’t answer you at all.

You suppose your curiosity will have to wait, and hope he doesn’t get you all killed.

Joel usually sends half a dozen of his people to collect the tribute from the settlement they ‘protect’. It’s a thinly veiled intimidation, closer to extortion than anything else, but it keeps his people fed and lets them bully others, which some of his people need.

But the last two seasons, their offerings have been slim at best, pissing the most restless of his people off. Joel has no issue with violence. No issue with killing people, or intimidation. But he also knows that starting a bloodbath in their supply settlement is a stupid idea, even if some of his men don’t.

Which has led him to here. Two men sit in the truck, shoulder to shoulder. One sits in the tray, gripping the roof bar with one hand, a rifle dangling lazily from the other.

Two others ride beside him, a little behind, in an arrow formation. It didn’t bother Owen to stay behind with the rest of the group. There’s better things he could be doing. If anyone was surprised at Joel deciding to go with them on this run? He hasn’t heard a word of it.

If anything, they probably think it means he’s planning some sort of punishment for their friends in the settlement. Hell, if they don’t pay up? He’s not against it.

It never ceases to amaze him just how pathetic these people are. He hasn’t visited the settlement personally in a year or so, but the occupants are still just as miserable. Just as downtrodden and fearful, hiding behind their shitty tin walls and the hope that his folks will protect them. It’s that fear that keeps his people fed, keeps these townspeople in line.

They don’t need to know that there are so few infected out here now, that Joel and his group are probably the biggest - if not only – threat remaining to them. Fear keeps them in line, and if they step out of line? Well, he and his gang aren’t above beating a reminder into them. It’s happened before.

The truck rolls to a stop behind him as they make their way to the centre of the settlement. He dismounts his horse, steps forward to greet the leader of the place. He’s met this man once before, the season after he took out the old mayor for trying to defy him. Beating a man to death isn’t pleasant to witness, but Joel had no problem with committing the act.

His replacement is a small, round man who always wears the same threadbare overcoat, the same twitchy air of nervousness around him, the same oily obedience.

How a man like that became what passes for mayor, Joel has no idea. He’s just as spineless as the rest, just as cowardly, eager to snivel and beg for protection, offering up whatever it takes to save his own skin. It’s a way to live, Joel supposes, but he would never stoop so low.

“Morris.” Joel greets the other man with a cold nod of his head, reaches out a gloved hand for him to shake. All formality. All pleasantries. As if the six men he’s brought with him aren’t capable of gunning down this entire settlement, if he so chooses. Hell, he could probably do it by himself.

“I’m surprised to see you.” Morris admits as he steps forward from the small group of townsfolk. Joel’s gaze sweeps over them all; a few new faces, his eyes boring into each unfamiliar one. One bears a resemblance to the mayor. Interesting.

His gaze leaves the crowd, returns to the man in front of him.

“We need to have a little chat.”

“You don’t say a word. Nobody will benefit from your attempts at being a diplomat.” Your father cautions you as you reach the centre of town. It’s not a long walk. The settlement is barely big enough to call a commune, but still.

You don’t dignify him with an answer, just nod. There’s no point in trying to argue with him, try and prove that you’re an asset. He’s too set in his ways, too firm in the belief that women – especially young ones- should be seen and not heard.

So instead you keep your mouth shut, take your place. Watch the convoy come in. It’s different, being out on the street rather than peeking out a window when they roll in.

The usual truck, two men in the cab, one in the tray, slapping the roof to signal to stop. You’re not familiar enough with their faces, but you assume they’re the same men who come every quarter. Two men on horses, flanking a third.

It’s the third man who interests you, only slightly. Mostly because of the way your father tenses, the way some of the others shift nervously. You vaguely recognise this man; the leader of the group of raiders. The one who had no problem with violence, with getting rid of the old mayor when he didn’t want to play ball.

He’s older, maybe late forties, broad shouldered and has a sort of deadened glint to his dark eyes. Vaguely, you catch yourself wondering what he did, or what happened to him, to put that look in his gaze.

Those cold dark eyes take stock of the place, sweep across each member of your community. His gaze pauses on you, very briefly, flickers to your father then back, recognition. Then he looks away, back to your father.

“We need to have a little chat,” the unknown man says, “your quota has been low, Morris.”

Even in the cold, you can see your father start to sweat. He’s no great hero; his leadership perches precariously on his willingness to bow to whatever this gang of raiders wants. There’s no way of fighting them, and quite frankly? There are worse things out there.

“We’ve had a hard few seasons… Maybe we can make it up in spring?” Your father suggests, trying to sound complacent, apologetic. Mostly, it just sounds desperate.

You wonder if the leader of the gang thinks so, too.

“Now, Morris, you’re already short. Have been for the last two seasons. Maybe if we’d had this little chat earlier, I’d be more inclined to accept the request, but, well… winter’s on its way. It’s hard out there, and these walls you have are so flimsy… anything could happen.”

Your father’s face blanches, clearly aware he’s stepping on toes that shouldn’t be stepped on.

“We have… some supplies in reserve. You can take from there.”

It shouldn’t even surprise you, that he offers up the town’s emergency stockpile to save his own skin, probably thinking of his predecessor. It bothers you, though, makes your skin crawl to see the men from the gang open the barn where the supplies are kept, start hauling them into the back of the truck. Those supplies are for emergencies. For the children, the elderly, the sick. Maybe that’s why you open your mouth.

“Those supplies are for our elderly. Our children.”

The look your father gives you is piercing, promising violence, a sharp retribution later, but you don’t care.

“Excuse my daughter, Joel. She doesn’t understand the way things work, likes to talk when the men are talking.”

You expect the gang leader – Joel – to agree, to ignore you. Instead, he turns that depthless gaze onto you.

“What would you have me do, hm? We have a deal, you know that.” It’s unspoken what he’s implying – he has people relying on him, too.

You’re smart enough to know that it’s a rhetorical question.

“Besides.” Joel turns his attention to the truck, shakes his head. “Even with your stockpile, you’re short. Considerably so. Maybe we should stick around. See why your productivity is so low.”

The threat is implicit. Maybe it’s the threat. Maybe it’s anger at you for speaking out. Or maybe it’s the simple fact that your father is a piece of shit. Still, you don’t expect what happens next.

Joel doesn’t want to stick around this small town, with its cowed population and snivelling misogynist of a mayor. He’d rather take what they are owed and go, but they’re up short once again. Not by much, but it’s the principle of the matter. Of making sure Morris knows his place, knows that he and Joel are in no way equals.

He projects the very image of an alpha male, broad and cocky, one hand resting on the pistol at his hip. Casually threatening, and he knows Morris is thinking of the idiot before him. Maybe he should just shoot him, see whether someone smarter replaces him. Smarter and less irritating.

Maybe the other man can see how easily he’s contemplating his death.

“Wait. Wait. I have another offer.”

Joel raises an eyebrow.

“And what could you possibly have, Morris? As you’ve said, you’ve had a difficult harvest, you’ve had to break into your emergency supplies. What do you possibly have to trade to save your own skin?” He makes zero effort to hide his disgust.

“Her.” Morris jerks a shaky thumb to the younger woman beside him, the one who’s clearly his daughter, the one who spoke up.

Joel is so startled by the suggestion that he almost outright refuses.

“What?” It comes out blunter than he planned, as if he’s misheard. Because there’s no way that this idiot is offering up his own daughter as some sort of human sacrifice.

“Take her. I don’t care what you do with her, she’s a complete disappointment. Maybe you can teach her some manners, beat her into submission, God knows I’ve tried. Take her and give us immunity until next fall. Let us rebuild our crops.”

Joel looks past Morris to you, small and nondescript. Then again, everyone is small to him. You look like someone’s just pulled the ground out from under you. Shocked. Horrified. He knows then what you’re thinking, what you’re assuming will happen to you. But he also knows now what happens to you if he leaves you here.

Joel Miller may have lost his humanity, but he was a father once. And he can’t imagine ever, ever offering his own child up as a human sacrifice to save his own skin.

And suddenly, it doesn’t matter about making a quota. What matters is getting you as far away from this place as possible. Away from sharp words and balled fists. Because somewhere, somewhere, buried deep down, a portion of the man he once was is stirring.

“The end of next fall. A year.” Joel agrees, tries not to watch the way Morris shoves you forward to what could well be your doom.

You’re shaking. Can’t even form a protest, for all the good it would do.

Sacrifice. Tribute. Offering. As if you’re no more than another object to be traded. Your father doesn’t even flinch as Joel seizes your wrist, pulls you towards his horse.

“Get on.” His voice is low, but not menacing. If anything he sounds almost sorry. It has to be some sort of trap; you’re certain that when you’re back at their base camp, he’ll have no problem with cruelty, with putting his hands on you. Forcing you, if the mood takes him. Maybe it’s better to just do as he demands.

Shakily, you climb up onto the horse, sit awkward and uncomfortable, tensing when he swings himself up behind you, broad arms keeping you in place as he seizes the reins, gives a nod to his men, who finish loading up and pile back into the truck, onto their own horses.

He throws a final derisive look to your father. The man who sold you.

“One year, Morris. Better get your shit together.” Then he nudges the horse, and rides you both out of the only home you’ve known for years.

#my writing #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #raider joel #rue beastly

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cat3ch1sm · 1 year

Text

🪴~ hi, everyone! i hope you’ve all had a lovely day or night. today i give you some black butler headcanons because i haven’t written for it in a little while. enjoy, ily <33

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ fem!reader, street harassment, catcalling, language

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝- 𝐟𝐭. 𝐬𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧, 𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐢, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐚, 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥

a/n~ i am in no way romanticizing sexual harassment. most of the things i write here in these types of headcanons have happened/been said to me, so i just wanted to make that clear :) thank you <33 also, sorry these are so short, i am tired but i needed to post 😭

sebastian

you two are simply walking down the street, minding your own business as usual- maybe returning from an errand or something. because you’re outside and the weather isnt looking good, you propose that you take a shortcut through a different area. it’s a rougher part of town, but neither of you are fond of the idea of getting caught in the rain, so you take the risk.

you’re probably discussing something fairly mundane when a group of two or three guys spots you from the side of the road. they look dirty and are not at all easy on the eyes. you hear jeering and whistling from the side of the road, along with a few unsolicited comments about how sexy you apparently are. you give them a dirty look but are mostly inclined to ignore them, but Sebastian has other plans.

the butler first moves you to the opposite side of him protectively before marching straight up to the men jeering at you. they stop initially, a little confused, but when they decide Sebastian isn’t too much of a threat, they resume their antics.

“hey, what’re ya doing? you’re blocking our view, bastard.”

“what, are you her boyfriend of something? are ya mad? gonna tell us to stop? not our fault your girl’s a fine piece of ass.”

sebastian literally just stands there and waits for them to finish cackling like middle school boys. then, once they stop, a bit confused as to why Sebastian is still standing there, the butler promptly decks all three of them, knocking them all to the rough ground with three very painful-sounding thuds.

“it’s terribly impolite to verbally assault an innocent woman on the street like that, you know. i would appreciate it greatly if you’d mind your manners next time, yes?”

Sebastian simply leaves the men on the ground to moan and groan at their injuries before rejoining you, who is rendered speechless, in the road.

“this wasn’t a very good shortcut, now was it, my dear? i recommend you make your decisions more wisely next time, rain or not.”

agni

you two are probably just hanging out, on a date or something. you’re walking in the middle of the city, where there are lots of people shopping, selling, just walking, other various things. because of the crowd, you and agni get off the main street and walk behind all the shops and buildings instead for a little more privacy.

while walking behind the buildings, you accidentally stumble and drop your bag. agni politely asks if he can get that for you, but you smile and insist on getting it yourself. you bent over to get your bag and stood back up, which should have been the end of it, but unfortunately you happen to catch the eye of two guys loitering beside one of the buildings you two are in front of.

“i liked it better when you were bent over, sweetheart!”

abruptly, you whirl to face the source of the voice, shocked, your eyes wide. clenching your teeth, you clutch your bag closer and shake your head, starting to walk away in an attempt not to escalate the situation, but agni grabs your hand just before you’re out of his reach. he doesn’t want to bring you any closer to the two men, but agni wants to keep you by his side, so he grasps you around the waist and walks over to them. when he approaches them, his expression is dark, and you can tell how he’s straining to maintain his non-violent ways.

honestly, agni doesn’t really have to say anything to let the guys know that he means business. his threatening aura is overpowering- the cowards are already running for the hills.

“it is a shame that it is so acceptable for these men to treat you like that in England. however- it is clear that they are mere cowards, given that they ran as soon as i approached them. are you doing alright?”

“as long as you are with me, you will never be in harm’s way.”

soma

“hey, baby, your boyfriend don’t look like much- why don’t you come on home with me and i’ll show you a real good time.”

the remark catches you completely off guard. you and soma were on your way back from a cute first date at a quaint coffee shop, which poor soma, trying desperately not to mess up, had planned way too far ahead for just an hour-long date. luckily for him, it had gone well, and you and soma were hitting it off on the walk back to the manor. however, the cheerful little bubble you two were in after officially becoming a couple poles rather abruptly after hearing that comment.

you opted to ignore the offender, and soma simply shot him a dirty look before continuing on your way, protectively wrapping an arm around your shoulder and bringing you closer to him. but the man doesn’t leave you alone.

“hey, babe, why don’t you wanna talk to me? i promise i can be better than that guy you’re with.”

you outright groaned this time, sick of the man hounding you, and soma instantly sensed your annoyance. although he definitely wasn’t fond of the idea of confronting the burly man- who indeed was bigger than soma- he didn’t want to look like a chicken in front of you, and he genuinely didn’t like seeing you upset and vulnerable. so, soma promptly storms up to the man and tries his best to chew him out without wavering.

“hey! you know that it is very rude to catcall a woman like that! you do not even care that she is with a gentleman? you, sir, are a very crass and immature man!”

it really looks better typed out… in reality, soma’s voice is shaky and cracks a lot, and he’s visibly very nervous. like i mentioned, this guy who catcalled you is certainly intimidating. luckily, he isn’t amused by soma and simply waves him off and goes on his way.

grell

“why didn’t he say that to me? what’s wrong with my ass?”

carefully explain to grell that catcalling is not a compliment because she will not know that. even after you explain, she still might take offense☠️☠️

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meaningofaeons · 1 year

Note

I am here w your svarog rec!!

Reader n clara are playing and one of them like, falls or something and gets rlly lightly hurt and just,,, his reaction to that

- 🍓

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ a small trip

⊹ character(s) - svarog ⊹ word count - 1.2k ⊹ notes - gn!reader, reader is implied to be a fighter/be close with svarog and clara, sugary sweet tooth-melting fluff

🍓ANON HI!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SATING MY DESIRE TO WRITE FOR SVAROG !!!!! I really like him a lot he is so sweet <3 ILY TY FOR REQUESTING ( ↀДↀ)✧

"Bio heat reaction detected — Identifying bio information... Identification result: Y/N. — Hostility level: None. What can I do for you, Y/N?"

That familiar robotic tone greeted you as soon as you had made your way into Svarog's base camp, spotting the glowing red eye you had grown accustomed to.

The robot awaited you and Clara at the top of the steps, and you gently eased the small girl up, giving Svarog a gentle smile.

"Sorry, Svarog. While Clara and I were out, she got a small wound. I was wondering where you keep the medical supplies?"

"Y/N, I'm fine..." the young girl whined, clutching to your hand for a moment longer before walking over to give Svarog a greeting hug (which was really more of her latching onto his leg).

You nodded kindly.

"I know, dear. But if you don't get it looked at, it could get worse. We don't want that, do we?"

Then, you turned your attention to the robotic man.

"She really is fine, but she had quite the tumble, to be honest. Her knee has a slight scrape. Could you show us inside?"

"What happened?" Svarog's head tilted.

"Some Fragmentum monsters appeared out of nowhere. It was just in the scramble to find a hiding place. We're both okay."

"What of the condition of the monsters that encroached on your time together? Where are they found?"

You chuckled. Although his voice was as computerized as ever, you could hear the barest hint of protectiveness seep in every now and then—something that should be impossible, yet, here you were.

"Not to worry. I took care of them before we returned. Clara managed to find somewhere to hide in the scuffle."

"Understood. Come along, Clara."

"But what about Y/N?!" Clara burst out, tears threatening to fill her red eyes as she clutched onto Svarog's pantleg and tugged him back before he could walk away. "They tripped too!"

"Ah, nonsense!" you hurried, laughing nervously. "I'm really all right. I didn't get any injuries from it."

"But if I need to get checked out, you should too! Just in case!"

Children sure are stubborn these days.

You shook your head in resignment, turning again to the tall robot as he scooped Clara into his arm.

"Do you mind if I impose?"

"You are not someone capable of imposing. You are always welcome in our camp," Svarog answered surely, without leaving space for a single question or protest. He moved towards you, offering one hand while his other was occupied holding Clara.

You took it graciously, heading into the small mansion that was Svarog's home.

"Not someone capable of imposing, hmm... Is that all part of your calculations too?" you nudged him as you made your way through the halls, going to the makeshift infirmary set up in the back corner of the estate.

"Yes."

You chuckled lightly. Stoic as always. Then again, he is a robot.

"What if I defected, became a vagrant and went to steal your stockpiled goods for whatever reason?"

"Calculating — Rate of trust towards Y/N exceeds that of the average human. Probability of betrayal, defection, or otherwise malintent: 0.00%. Result identical to previous fifteen calculated results. Existing data will temporarily not be altered."

Your eyes widened a bit of that, and you raised a brow.

"Clara, have you asked him such a thing before?"

"No, I haven't..." she trailed off. You turn to Svarog.

"So, you think about me often, do you?" you teased lightly, knowing the robot would have some sort of calculative response to that.

Svarog did not respond.

In the moment, you shrugged it off, but something tickled the back of your mind about the way he remained silent.

Was there really a way to calculate such a thing with pure logic?

You chose to shove the thought from your mind for now.

Svarog gently sat Clara on the examination table, gathering bandages and ointment. He placed them on the table beside you, standing back and allowing you to gently patch up the small girl's leg.

As soon as you finished, the girl had hopped up at once, hugging you and Svarog lightly as she went to the door.

"I'm going to go check on Pascal. Bye, Mr. Svarog! Bye, Y/N!"

You waved her off with a smile, sighing as you leaned against the wall.

"Please sit on the examination table, Y/N."

The computerized voice cut through your thoughts, and you eyed Svarog, who was very pointedly staring at your knee. You chuckled nervously, waving your arms again.

"Svarog, like I said, I'm fine. I didn't trip that hard—"

"According to observational results, you have a mild limp and a tremble in your left leg. Probability of injury: 96.38%. Probability of injury exceeding average standard of human pain tolerance: 47.92%. Probability of—"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" you huffed, tossing yourself onto the examination table and lifting up your pantleg. Though the gash in your knee was nothing life-threatening even if infection were to encroach, it did hurt, and nothing escaped Svarog's observational eye.

"See? Nothing too bad. I can take care of it myself back home, you don't need to worry."

"I will treat it."

"Svarog!" you exclaimed as he took the ointment in his large, metallic hand, applying a generous amount. "I really am okay!"

"Clara is worried for your well-being. As am I." The second part of his sentence made you shut up just a bit. That is, until he started rambling again. "Probability of Clara's mental well-being declining as a result of Y/N's injured knee — 93.49%—"

"I got it with the calculations! Just... do what you gotta do," you relented at last, allowing the robot to finish dressing your wound and bandaging you up at remarkable speeds.

Honestly, with how large his hands are, you weren't sure if he'd be up for it. Still, he did a decent job. Better than decent, really.

"Are medical skills also ingrained somewhere in that big computer-like database of yours?"

"I can access all databases relative to Belobog. As there are records of accurate and efficient medical care, I am able to perform these according to written instruction."

"Hmm... Well, thank you, regardless."

"You have my appreciation as well, Y/N, for assisting Clara. It would be appreciated if you would look after her in the future, as well."

You laughed lightly.

"Is that even a question? I'll always be there for you and Clara. No need to worry. Though, I'm sure you'd be able to demolish anyone that threatens Clara with far more ease than I."

"Verifying accuracy of claim — Combat systems—"

"Okay, Svarog, just an observation, no need for an analysis!"

"Very well."

By the time Svarog had led you back outside, Clara had returned, Pascal in tow. She gave you another great, big hug before you left, all while you patted the robot on the arm.

"I'll see you two later."

"Goodbye, Y/N."

"Bye, Y/N! Come back and visit again soon!"

As soon as you were out of earshot, the small girl turned to her father figure, a big beaming grin on her usually timid face.

"Are you and Y/N gonna get married, Mr. Svarog?"

Svarog did not reply aloud, but the whirring of his circuits made it plenty clear to Clara that calculations were running like rampant in his computerized mind.

"Let us go inside, Clara."

She only giggled.

#hsr #honkai #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai x reader #honkai star rail x reader #svarog #svarog x reader #anon #🍓 anon

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syd-djarin · 8 months

Text

Sugar, Spice & Please Fuck Me Nice (neighbor!joel AU)

chapter one: the new neighbors

*18+ Minors DNI*

Word count: ~2000+

Warnings: FLUFF, nervous reader, a hint of masturbation (f & m), neighbor!joel needs a warning, eventual smut

reader has hair that she fidgets with, "grows warm" /"cheeks burning" but not necessarily blushing, with embarrassment - minor edits to make this more inclusive for my readers <3

Author/s Notes: this is my first fic, so ofc I had to write Joel, and I have a weakness for neighbor!Joel.

this will be a series and I'm so excited to share this :) this is super self-indulgent, making reader based off myself so shameless self-insert kinda? lol

a huge thank you & ily to my babe @katiexpunk for helping me make edits/bouncing ideas and encouraging me to dive into writing <3

Tags: no outbreak AU, neighbor!joel, reader is sweetie pie, age gap (reader is mid-late 20's, joel is late 30's-early 40's in this), dilf!joel, gratuitous descriptions of joel being strong & sexy, f & m masturbation, eventual smut, fluff

AUSTIN, TX OCT 2005

You’ve lived in this neighborhood for the majority of your life, with the exception of your time in college.

Now that you’ve finished your undergrad, your parents, now retired and living in Maine, have graciously offered for you to stay in your childhood home. It wouldn’t be forever, you think, just until something comes through for you to use your degree on.

The neighborhood hasn’t changed that much through the years; some of the houses got renovations or additions, although many of the homes were the same that they have always been. Many of the people living in the cul-de-sac had known you since you were just a baby, and like to remind you of that more often than you’d like.

Occasionally a home would go up for sale, and it just so happened that the house directly across the street from yours was one of them – a classic blue Ranch style home, well maintained, albeit a bit outdated, but full of potential. The previous owners lived there for nearly four decades, and the entire neighborhood is antsy to solve the mystery of who’ll move in next.

You had assumed that the next tenants would be another nuclear family type – the stereotypical, American family - husband, wife, two kids, the works. Much to your surprise, a single father and his daughter were the succeeding residents of the house. A ruggedly handsome single father, at that.

+++

Move in day came for your new neighbors and just like everyone else who resided here, you couldn’t help but to be nosy, curiosity getting the best of you.

You discreetly parted your living room blinds, your curiosity at its peak, as your new neighbors began unloading the hefty boxes from their U-Haul and settling into their new abode. You even went to check the mail to get a closer peek, despite having already checked it earlier in the day when it arrived.

You couldn’t help but ogle at the broad-shouldered man lifting boxes as if they weigh nothing. His dark gray t-shirt clings to his biceps for dear life and you feel your pussy involuntarily throb every time he lifts up the bottom of it, bringing it to his forehead to wipe the sweat collecting there, each time revealing his soft tummy and the dark hair that trailed down from his belly button.

You imagine yourself holding onto those brawny arms, while he pounds-

Oh my god, get a grip, you internally chastise yourself. It’s been too long since you’ve gotten laid, defending yourself for conjuring up dirty fantasies of a man whose name you didn’t even know.

You decided you’d go introduce yourself once it appeared that they’d finished unloading the moving truck, not wanting to disrupt or cause an intrusion.

Baking being one of your love languages, you decide to make your new neighbors your grandma's famous cookies – snickerdoodles and chocolate chip. The recipes don’t call for much, but your grandma swears it’s the love that goes into them that makes them as good as they are. She had taught you to bake at a young age; ensuring you knew the fundamentals, techniques, and the importance of quality ingredients. She also taught you that the best gift you could give is a dessert, one that requires your time and attention.

Besides wanting to be a welcoming neighbor, baking provides you with a necessary distraction to your nefarious thoughts about the new neighborhood DILF. Were these cookies for him, sure, but it proved to be quite a successful deterrent from your naughty thoughts, allowing you the space to fully engross yourself in the task of making the dough, folding in the chocolate chips, rolling the batches into little balls, and spacing them out evenly on the tray before popping them in the oven.

After a couple of hours, the cookies now cool, and the warm autumn sun begins to set. Your home smells of warm sugar, a nostalgia that brings a smile to your face. You peek out the window and notice the moving truck is now gone, and figure now was as good a time as any to introduce yourself.

You neatly package the goodies into their designated container, draw on your oversized flannel and shoes, and begin your brief trek across the street. As you begin walking down your porch steps you’re hit with a wave of nervousness, your stomach does backflips and your heart beats faster. Get it together. You take several deep breaths and hold onto the cookie container a little tighter before continuing on your mission. Why are you such a nervous wreck? I mean, it’s just some guy, you (unsuccessfully) try to reason with yourself.

Reaching the front door, you knock– tap, tap, tap. A brief moment passes, and the door opens, leaving only the space of the doorframe between you and a young girl with wide, curious eyes and beautiful curly brown hair staring back at you.

“Hi there, I’m your neighbor across the street,” you say, gesturing towards your own home, “I wanted to introduce myself – I brought you some cookies, just a little something to say welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Cookies! Ah sweet, I love cookies - what kind?” she asks, not at all trying to hide her fairly obvious interest for them and less in you.

“There’s chocolate chip and a few snickerdoodles,” you reply, giving her an amused smile.

Her father, the devastatingly handsome one, makes his way up behind her and stands in the doorframe, halfway inside and halfway onto the porch where you stand. He was a sight to behold up close: dark hair that had a loose curls and a beard, both lightly dusted with some grays, chocolate brown eyes you could drown in, a mustache that perched atop plush lips.

He’s muscled in the shoulders and arms, which act as a nice compliment to his soft torso. He had the kind of physique that came from hard labor, which only fuels your attraction to him more.

If this were a cartoon, you were sure your eyes would be bulging out of their sockets in the shape of hearts.

“Oh, uh–hi,” you say, perhaps an octave too loud. “I was telling your daughter here that I brought over some cookies, you know, as a welcome gift,” you pause, realizing you hadn’t even introduced yourself. “I’m your neighbor, I live just across the way,” you say, nodding to your house. You turn back to face him and fidget with your hair. Through a nervy smile, you manage to give him your name.

“I’m Joel, this here’s Sarah,” he says, voice gruff and smooth at the same time. He holds out his hand to shake yours. You hope he wouldn’t notice how sweaty your hand is; maybe it’s the nerves, or the still-sticky Texan air, despite it being October. Probably both.

His palm is warm; worn and calloused in some places, but firm and inviting. You couldn’t help but gawk at how small he made your hand feel in his. He releases your grip; bringing you out of your brief trance, and your eyes once again meet.

“Welcome to the neighborhood, Joel and Sarah,” you smile and hold out the container of cookies for Joel to take. Before he can even reach up to grab them, Sarah already has her hands on them and has run back into the house, murmuring something that sounds like thanks as she does.

He had just met you, but Joel couldn’t deny how much he likes hearing you saying his name in your gentle, nectarous voice.

Your hands now empty, you nervously interlace your fingers and twirl your thumbs, unsure of what to say next. Joel’s eyes take note of the smudge of flour on your cheek – cute. He also notices the flour in the cleft of your cleavage, but he tries not to make that fact obvious. The flour between your breasts stares back at him, but he collects his composure, averting his gaze back to you. He should point it out to you, he thinks, but you seem shy and he doesn’t want to embarrass you, or scare you away from wanting to come over again.

“‘Preciate the cookies, sweetheart,” he says, voice low. His eyes stay glued to your face. You avert your eyes downwards and cross your arms, buckling under the weight of his gaze. You felt your cheeks and chest grow hot at his use of sweetheart.

“I’m just – uh,” you trip over your words, nervous, “I’m just across the street if you need me,” you offer, giggling at the suggestive way that sounds, “you know, like a cup of sugar or anything like that,” you add.

Joel nods in reply, edges of his mouth coming up in a smirk as if to acknowledge your kindness, being careful not to full on grin in amusement of his apparent effect on you.

“Same to you,” he says before closing the door, perhaps eyeing you a moment too long as you walk away. He turns to enter the house, only to find Sarah staring at him, cookie in hand, and a knowing grin on her face.

“Why didn’t you tell her she had flour all over herself?” she asks, teasing, like she could already tell he was embarrassed to admit the truth.

“Did she? Hmm, didn’t seem to notice,” he says, trying to hide the lie behind a weak cough, before walking away, cheeks obviously flushed.

Back in the safety of your own home, you come to a still with your hand pressing on the door, reeling from your interaction with Joel. You were wired up, buzzing with arousal and nerves.

And God, the way he called you sweetheart.

You replay the moment over and over in your head, not wanting to forget his Texan twang or the way he looked at you when he said it. You could have died, right then and there. You let your mind run wild, thinking of all the things you wanted to do with him, what you wanted to do to him.

Needing to relieve the throbbing ache in between your legs, you decide a shower is in order. When stepping into your bathroom, you catch yourself in the mirror. You were mortified at the discovery of the flour on your face and chest. You had been so engrossed with baking the cookies and too anxious about taking them over to Joel’s that you failed to give yourself a once-over in the mirror before heading out the door. The arousal you felt temporarily held precedent, you’d process your embarrassment later.

You step into the steamy shower and touch yourself, thinking of Joel. You shove two fingers inside your pussy, imagining they were Joel’s long, thick, dexterous fingers.

Little did you know Joel was having his own feelings about your little introduction.

Several of his new neighbors come to introduce themselves in the coming days, under the guise of welcoming him and his daughter, but in reality, they wanted to get scoop on who they were. Where had they moved from, what prompted the move, we’re they planning on staying short-term, what did he do for a living, was there a Mrs. Joel Miller? And once they found out he was a contractor, there were a whole other set of questions of “would you mind taking a look at my ____”.

He liked the neighborhood, and while the people were nice and seemingly mean well, Joel begins to feel irritation at the consistently prying questions, annoyed that people felt like they were entitled answers to begin with.

But you.

He was not expecting you.

Beautiful, endearing, kind eyes, a smile he thought could end wars. You had been sweet and respectful, and didn't appear to have ulterior motives. It made his heart palpitate and sent blood rushing somewhere he knew it shouldn’t. You were young, too young and sweet, too sweet for a man like him.

Then he saw how you stared at his hands, grew warm and shy when his gaze had lingered too long on you.

That night, with Sarah tucked into bed, he grabs one of the snickerdoodle cookies, Sarah insisting that he save all of the chocolate chip ones for her, but he doesn’t mind; snickerdoodles are his favorite.

He bites into the soft cookie, his eyes fluttering shut as he does, an involuntary reaction to the sweet, perfectly soft texture. He lets out a moan, the kind that is elicited when tasting something delicious.

And the fact that you made them? The thought sends blood straight to his dick.

Joel, in inner turmoil, was trying to resist the temptation to touch himself to the thought of you. God, if your cookies were this good, so sweet and fluffy, how good would you taste.

The thought consumes him, the temptation too strong.

He polishes off more than three of the cookies, before heading to shower. That night he takes his cock in his fist to the thought of you, and your stupidly delicious fucking cookies.

Joel was a gentleman, sure, but he was also a man.

And the best way to get to a man’s heart?

Through his stomach.

THE END

#joel x f!reader #joel miller #neighbor!joel x f!reader #first fanfic #joel fic #joel x reader #joel miller is babygirl #joel fanfic #reader insert #fluff #smut

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