Tumgik
#WHY MUST THAT MAN BE SO FINE UGH
relzxency · 10 months
Text
currently going insane over jack russell and elsa bloodstone
3 notes · View notes
toastsnaffler · 3 months
Text
well I didn't talk abt what I specifically wanted to talk abt bc I could tell I was starting to get upset just being very vague and general and I mentally started doubting myself n defending against it n chickened out. but I'm grateful she listened to me vent a little anyway I do appreciate it ik she has plenty of better things to do w her time 🥹
0 notes
harunayuuka2060 · 7 months
Text
Professor Trein: I've never seen your classmates- I mean, your students this behave.
MC: They just value their lives, professor.
Cerberus: Grrr...
MC: Oh. Is there anyone trying to cheat?
Random student: !!! *immediately rips off his cheat sheet*
MC and Professor Trein: ...
Professor Trein: Can I borrow Cerberus for my history class later?
MC: Sure thing, professor. But how about, Lucius?
Cerberus: Grrr...
MC: Aww~ Look at you, Cerberus! You're such a good boy! Be good to Professor Trein and his cat, hm? I'll play with you together with Lucifer after you finish your task. *pets him*
Cerberus: *wags his tail*
The students: *thinking* Curse Crowley...
Barbatos: Great work, MC. Here's your Hell Coffee.
MC: Thanks. *takes a sip* Ah.
MC: So bitter.
Barbatos: *chuckles* It's more bitter than before, isn't it?
MC: *smiles* Yes. *then their face saddens*
Barbatos: Is there something wrong?
MC: I just missed Luke and Simeon.
Barbatos: Hm. Then why not invite them here?
MC: ...
Barbatos: Don't tell me you have forgotten that you possess the power of the Ring of Light?
MC: ...
MC: *facepalm* Yes.
Barbatos: *chuckles* I figured. Now, don't sulk and enjoy your recess.
MC: Thank you, Barb.
MC: Vil... What are you doing here?
Vil: I've heard from your demon butler that you are turning yourself into an angel to gain access to this Celestial Realm.
MC: Yes?
Vil: I must see what you will look like, potato.
MC: ...
MC: Okay. I think it'll be fine if you're the only spectator- Lilia, what are you doing here too?
Lilia: Same reason. *while holding a camera*
MC: ...
MC: Whatever.
Solomon: *chuckles* You're famous even here, huh?
MC: More like infamous, but yeah. Anyway, Sol? Mind lending me a hand?
Solomon: No problem. *uses magic to change them*
Vil and Lilia: *in awe; also Lilia not forgetting to snap pictures*
MC: Okay! I'm ready to get my baby!
Solomon: And your other husbando.
MC: Right. *breathes in*
MC: I am the magician, MC…Ring of Light! Heed my words! Open the way forward and create a path where there was none!
MC: Unlock the Gates of the Celestial Realm!
Vil: Ugh... Everything is bright! I can't see a thing!
Lilia: Good thing I have my sunglasses.
Vil: *frowns*
*The light disappears after a few seconds and MC as well*
Solomon: Yup. I'm sure they are in the Celestial Realm right now.
MC: ...
Simeon: ...
MC: *ended up straddling him*
Simeon and MC: *both blushes in embarrassment*
MC: I am sorry!
Simeon: *chuckles* I thought for a second that I had committed a sin.
MC: Come on now. You're calling me a sin?
Simeon: *chuckles again* No. I mean, I have been thinking of you for a while.
MC: *smiles* Sorry for being gone. I got into some sort of... unexplainable event.
Simeon: Oh?
MC: By the way, is Luke here? I'm here to invite you and him to this new world I'm living in.
Simeon: Is it similar to Devildom?
MC: No. It's a bit similar to the human world, except with magicians.
Simeon: Oh. *smiles* We would love to be there.
MC: Great!
*Back to Twisted Wonderland*
Diavolo: Simeon! Luke! I'm so glad to see you again!
Simeon: *chuckles* We're glad to see you too, Diavolo.
Luke: Yeah!
Lucifer: I'm surprised you easily got permission, MC.
MC: What permission?
Lucifer: ...
Simeon: MC snatched Luke in front of Michael. *laughs*
Luke: *giggles* It was fun when the other angels started to chase us!
Lucifer: ...
Lucifer: MC, why you-
MC: It's my parental rights, Lucifer.
Lucifer: ...
Malleus: That is your son, child of man?
MC: Yes! Isn't he adorable?
Luke: *staring at Malleus and wondering if he's a demon*
Malleus: How old is he?
MC: Um. He's ten. Yes. He's ten years old.
Luke: *pouts* MC! I'm over a thousand years old!
Malleus: ...
Malleus: What? You are older than me? *squints his eyes*
MC: Mal, don't. *knows that he's judging his height*
1K notes · View notes
mysteryshoptls · 14 days
Text
SSR Fellow Honest - Playful Dress Vignette
"My stars, a grave insult!"
Tumblr media
[Scalding Sands – Silk City]
Fellow: Now, ladies and gentlemen!
Fellow: What you are about to see here is a one-of-a-kind wonder.
Fellow: This is truly a genuinely invaluable show you are about to witness.
[rabble, rabble]
Fellow: Nice, them people're finally startin' to gather…!
Fellow: If you're interested in what I have to show, please, drop a few madol in this can over here. Any amount is fine~!
Fellow: And now, feast your eyes…
Fellow: On this… A one-of-a-kind puppet that can walk on its own without strings!
Fellow: What do you think, Mister? Madam? Doesn't it look so life-like? Amazing, is it not!?
Fellow: This exquisite beastman doll is the only one of its kind.
Fellow: You all are fortunate indeed to see such a fantastical sight. If your interest was piqued, I implore you to leave a token of appreciation…
[rabble, rabble]
Fellow: …Eh? It's not a puppet? A normal living being?
Fellow: HOW RUDE! WHAT EVIDENCE HAVE YOU FOR YOUR ACCUSATION!?
Fellow: Please, look carefully. It might be able to move without strings, but even if I poke or tickle it, it won't even cry out or laugh.
Fellow: It is a beautifully crafted puppet. Yes, that's right, there can be no question.
[Gidel nods]
Fellow: Ah, stop, Gidel!
Fellow: …It moved? Oh no, it must have just been a trick of the eye.
Fellow: Or, are you perhaps trying to insinuate that I, Fellow Honest, am a liar?
Fellow: You didn't mean it…? Ahhh, oh, but you've hurt my feelings so~!
Fellow: I've been known as Honest John, a man of integrity, pure and innocent, and yet you would call me a liar…
Fellow: I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD SUFFER SUCH A DAY! MY STARS, A GRAVE INSULT!
Fellow: Hey now, Mister. Since you've damaged my pride like this, feels like you should provide me with a show of good faith and…
Gidel: [sneeze]
Fellow: AH!!
Fellow: U-Uhh… Ladies and gentlemen, I… Hm? You want your money and time back? …No need to get so angry… Hahaha…
Fellow: …Crap.
Fellow: RUN, GIDEL!!
Tumblr media
Fellow: Haah… Pant, pant… Did we lose them?
Fellow: …YOU NITWIT! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO CHOOSE RIGHT THEN TO SNEEZE!?
Fellow: Just a little longer and we woulda gotten something extra on top of their spectator fees!
Gidel: …
Fellow: Ugh, whatever. ...All we got to show for that in the end was just a little bit of spare change…
Fellow: …And whatever small bits and bobs of jewelry they had on them.
Fellow: I stealthily swiped them with my magic while those idiots were all focused on you, but there's not much here. Shame.
Fellow: This dump ain't worth staying in. Time to move on, Gidel! Fwahaha!
Tumblr media
[Fairest City – Crystal Galleria]
Fellow: Look carefully, fair people! What I have here is a magestone. However, this is no ordinary magestone.
Fellow: The date: 1000 years ago; the place: the depths leagues below the Coral Sea. This magestone was said to be sought even by the Great Seven!
Fellow: It may look like an ordinary pebble. So, what makes this an extraordinary find? Once you hear what I have to say, you'll never recover from the shock!
Fellow: Listen and be amazed! This is a miraculous stone where whosoever holds it becomes capable of using magic!
Gidel: ! [honks horn]
Fellow: For you, ladies and gentlemen, I risked life and limb searching high and low for this in the most secluded southern regions.
Fellow: There is only one of these gemstones in existence. We'll start the bidding at 50,000 madol (500 Thaumarks)! Come, come, all who are interested, please raise up a hand!
[silence]
Fellow: …Huh, no one wants to raise a hand? What, do I have before me a gaggle of broke spectators?
Fellow: Heh, gutless, all of you. Ah, but damn it all! Is there not a single one among you with the courage to reach out and grasp the miracle laid out before you!?
Fellow: With icy demeanors like that, even my fleas will laugh at me.
Fellow: …I'm sure you all are simply thinking there's no way you could trust vagabonds like us, isn't that right?
Fellow: You think I'm selling you a fake? You think you'll be wasting your money?
Fellow: Aah, that's no good, my dear fellows! If you mistrust me so fervently, it's not as fun...
Fellow: Don't worry. If you believe in what I tell you, there's nothing for you to be afraid of.
Fellow: COME ON TO THE THEATER!
Fellow: LIFE IS FUN
Fellow: …Ah, there we go, that was quick. 80,000 madol from the gent over there! And 100,000 madol from the one over here!
Fellow: A good call, everyone! With such wise decision-making skills, you all have a future scholar inside you!
Tumblr media
Fellow: Fwahahaha! Look at 'em idiots believing at whatever stupid story I throw their way!
Fellow: A magestone that'll give you the ability to use magic~? If something like that really existed, I'd've used it myself.
Fellow: Even the guys who were the most skeptical leapt at the chance once I used my Unique Magic. I sure enjoy pulling the wool over idiots who try to look down on me.
Fellow: Hm, let's see how much we earned today…
Fellow: Two, four, six, eight… Oho, not a bad haul. Look, Gidel, we'll be feasting tonight!
[Gidel hops happily]
Fellow: Word's probably got around by now, especially after I raked in this much. This might be the end of the line for our earnings here…
Gidel: …
Fellow: What? You want to head south this time?
Fellow: Not a bad idea. How 'bout we target vacationers at them fancy resorts?
Fellow: Let's see if we can kindly crash their little enjoyable vacations.
Fellow: …Yeah, that's perfect. You're a genius, Gidel. This time, we'll be the fancy, rich folk out on vacation.
Fellow: We go where we want, when we want. We have nothing and no one tying us down.
Fellow: That's the least we deserve as free-spirited folk!
Tumblr media
[Sunset Savanna – Sunrise City]
Fellow: EEEEP~~! I PROMISE, I WON'T DO ANYTHING BAD ANYMORE, I PROMISE!
Fellow: HELP~~~!
Tumblr media
[Sunset Savanna – Sunrise City]
Fellow: SHIT! THAT MASSIVE CHEAPSKATE!
Fellow: They were carrying around a crazy fat wallet. They could've spared even a little bit and nothing woulda hurt their bottom line.
Fellow: Yet they caused a fuss just from me trying to swipe a few thousand madol… Ouuuch, it's still throbbing where they hit me.
[stomachs gurgle]
Fellow: Man, I'm starving. It's gonna suck to go another night without dinner.
Fellow: Ain't there something we can find to eat…?
[Gidel starts to drift away]
Fellow: …Hey, wait, Gidel! Don't open that can!
Fellow: Geez… Don'tcha see what it says right here? It's got OIL inside. You can't eat it, even if you open it.
Fellow: You do the same thing every time you're hungry. I've taught you dozens of times, can't you read what it says?
Gidel: …
Fellow: C'mon, squat here a little. I'll draw it out on the ground, so don't forget this time, 'kay?
Fellow: O is for Orange! It looks round and tasty, don't it?
Fellow: I is for Ice Cream! That thin, ice popsicle was pretty tasty the other day, wasn't it?
Fellow: L is for laugh! Don't it look like a smile when you look at it on it's side?
Fellow: …Why is L the only thing that's not food? I couldn't think of anything, so sue me.
Fellow: There's only so much I can teach you, too.
Fellow: Tch. If I had been able to go to school… By now I woulda been more…
[Gidel pats Fellow]
Gidel: …
Fellow: What? We don't need school to fill our bellies?
Fellow: Sigh, oh, Gidel. You know, you're…
Fellow: TOTALLY RIGHT!!
Fellow: That's right, we're living just fine even without going to school.
Fellow: Learning whatever with books and pencils is utter nonsense.
Fellow: We'll just clean out those suckers that went though their oh so lovely education, and just live a life that's even fuller.
Gidel: !
Fellow: That's right, leave it to me! Follow me, kid, and one day, you'll be a grand showstopper too.
Fellow: We'll get some halfwit students to dance for us on a stage for our own amusement!
Fellow: Now… What's more important right now is figuring out what we're going to eat tonight. I'll try to find something, so you start a fire.
Fellow: Just throw whatever you find into the fire, like wooden crates, or posters or… Hm?
Fellow: This job posting here… Oh, well, well!
Fellow: Look here, Gidel, That one prick is looking to hire someone. And this time, it's at an amusement park!
Fellow: I don't know what they're planning, but… Last time we did work for 'em, we made a killing.
Fellow: I can't stand how he looks down on us, but there's a lot more to gain out of it…
Fellow: Why don't we just go hear them out, Gidel? If we don't like it, we can just bail.
Fellow: We live only for today, never thinking about what tomorrow might bring. We do whatever work keeps our lives free and fun. 'Cause we can go and do whatever we want.
[Gidel nods, Fellow whistles as they go off]
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Requested by @sakurakudo.
448 notes · View notes
trying-harder-then-u · 9 months
Text
Johnny's Daddy
Johnny has been my friend since forever, and while we grew apart in High school, we would always make sure to comfort each other through all the tough times. He helped me with my breakup, and I helped him when he lost his job.
Johnny was always on the smaller side; Puberty Hit never really got to him, and while he never got the muscles he wanted, he eventually became quite happy with his body and my numerous numerous offers to wing man him and help him get a girl were always turned down.
Tumblr media
Earlier today, my phone pinged while I was at work. Johnny had messaged me:
"Hey man, could you come to my place after work?"
"Sure? What do you need?"
"I'll explain when you get here."
Me and Johnny had always been open and clear without ever really needing to talk outside of texts, so I thought this must be something big if he wanted to talk about it at his place, so after work finished up, I got in my car and drove to his apartment in the city. After a good 50 minutes of driving through the winding roads, I finally arrived.
As I opened the door, he came and hugged me. "How was the drive?" "Nothing special, just some traffic jams and that stuff," I responded. For the first few hours, we just hung out talking about life and playing games before I finally asked why he wanted me here: "Well, I wanted to tell you I was gay." he blushed as he said it, "Damn man, thanks for telling me; I'm glad you trusted me enough to tell me, do you want to go to a gay bar or  something?"He shook his head at my question: "You don't understand; I've been trying to get a boyfriend for awhile now, but it never works out, and I wanted to ask you if...." "I'm sorry, man," I interjected. "I love you like a brother, but I don't feel the same way about you." "Okay, sorry, I hope we can still be friends," Both of us laughed awkwardly at the incident, but decided to hang out some more. At about 6, we were both getting hungry, so he ordered a pizza, and he got up to grab us a drink. I heard what sounded like pills rattling in the kitchen before he returned with some beers, caps removed. "Thanks, man," I said as he handed me one. Taking a sip, I thought it tasted funny, but I just shrugged it off as the pizzas had just arrived and i was starving.
As we ate and played video games, it became latter and latter, and the beers piled up, each tasting stranger, then the last. At some point, my mind started to became fuzzy. "Ugh, I don't feel good," i said. "You don't look good either. Maybe you should just sleep here for the  night."Johnny commented, Too tired to argue, I ended up on his couch and fell asleep quickly as he went back to the room. "You'll be fine; I bet you feel like a new man tomorrow morning," he called as he closed the door.
That night, as I shuddered in my sleep, my body began to change, moving around as my stature grew, stretching from 5 feet 8 to 6,2. My flab melted away as my skin tightened around new abs that began to push out one by one, and calves became strengthened along with arm muscles. My round face gained structure as a square jaw and clear skin gave my face a new, more attractive look. But it wasn't just my body changing; my dreams began to shift; thoughts that I used to have about women became directed towards Johnny; as I dreamed of dominating and using him, the apartments that we each had eventually became one, just as my place had his boyfriend cemented, and soon I was picturing him submitting to me every night. As these dreams peaked, I felt my dick pulse, lines of cum shooting out as my rock-hard cock lengthened, growing longer and longer inside my underwear from it's normal 4 inches to a monstrous 9, and my boxers turning to briefs as they were soaked in my semen. The transformation was over, and my new place in the world was confirmed.
The next morning, Johnny smirked as he walked in to be greeted by me staring at him in nothing but my briefs. "I have a job for you, boy; I need some services," I commanded, His dick jumped up, and his body shuddered as he moved towards me. All memories of my past life disappeared as he wrapped his lips around my dick; all that mattered was teaching my boyfriend his place.
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
divinesolas · 5 months
Text
Worth it
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: your little sister has a big crush on cregan stark, you attempt to help her score him but his eyes seem to be stuck somewhere else.
c.w: reader is older than cregan, reader is 24, cregan, jace and readers sister are 21, tension, fingering (fem), sister is referred to as kit, cregan is taller (not specified how much) not proofread
w.c: 2k
a.n: was asked if i could do modern cregan and im like OFC !! once i open up my requests again i will definitely add cregan to my list !!
Tumblr media
You just watch as your sister paces around your room with a bored face.
“kit-”
“What am i gonna wear? omg my nails look so bad i knew i should have gotten my nails done yesterday fuck!”
Your sister had gotten an invite to a party tonight but it wasn’t just any party. It was cregan starks party. your sister has had a big crush on cregan since the beginning of this school year. You have seen him around before, living in a college town leads to you seeing most of the college students around. You hated to say it but he was hot.
But you can’t tell that to her, when she showed you his picture you acted like you thought he was ugly to make her happy, knowing she would have lost it if you told her you thought he was hot. He was just your type, a bigger guy that clearly worked out, he was kind from what you had heard about him. But none of that mattered what you did know is your sister was completely delusionally in love with him and wanted to sleep with him tonight.
“Kit it’ll be fine, you’re cute, if he doesn’t like you then he can go fuck him.”
“ugh but i want him to fuck me!” she flops face first onto your bed with a groan and you just roll your eyes. “You’re acting like this over a guy….” “I know i know but you must get it, wanting a guy so badly.” You stop and think to yourself. You’ve been with a couple guys in the past but when you try to think about anyone the only guy that pops up in your head is cregan. No. It must be because your sister was just talking about him.
“I guess? but i promise you will never catch me rolling around like a baby and whining over one.” She lifts her head and pouts at you, “I am not.” “I didn’t even say it was you but if the shoe fits.” She stands mumbling to herself about how much she hates you but you just laugh and fall back.
“Well what are you gonna wear tonight?” “What are you talking about?” “They said i can only come if you come with me.” You sit up and look at her confused, “What?” “That's what Jace said, oh and he asked if we can pick up some booze.” That must be it, but you have no clue why you have to come. and how close was she to these people they know who you are?
“im not a college student kit it would be fucking weird if i showed up.” “Y/n please i really wanna go,” she pouts and you and laces her hands together to beg you. You can’t say no to your sister. Your face must admit defeat because all attempts of arguing with you sister go down the drain as she throws and dress at you and demands you get changed so she can go see if she can try to chat with cregan. Fuck it, you’ll stay for like twenty minutes or atleast until you see cregan and your sister chatting then you’ll leave.
You feel awkward as soon as you walk in, especially since your sister runs away from you basically as soon as you step through the door because she spotted some of her friends. You grip the boxes of beer you have tightly in your hand as you try to glance around to find a kitchen. You walk around a bit and manage to find it, letting out a sigh of relief as you place down the boxes.
“Thanks gorgeous.” You jump and turn around being faced with the man himself. “Cregan.” He had a wide grin on his face, “My reputation proceeds me.” You open and close your mouth trying to come up with something to say. God he was hot. fuck you can think like that. Your eyes drift down and you can see a little bit of his chest due to his unbuttoned shirt and hear him laugh and look back up and you see him just watching you. You take a major step back as you flush.
”I'm sorry-” “Don’t apologize i like you looking at me.” He moves closer to you and you move back until you hit the table and he’s standing right in front of you. “You’re beautiful.” “Thank you..” You look away from him and from where you are you can see you sister chatting with her friends. Your eyes widen and you push his chest making him stumble back from you out of view.
“I can’t talk to you.” He raises one of his eyebrows, the look on his face never dropping. “And why can’t i?” you shake your head trying to move around him so you can leave, “I'm not a student.” “I know.” He keeps on standing in front of you, “ Your kits sister, wanted you here.” You tilt your head, What?
“Huh?” He steps closer and you can feel his breath on your face, “I like you. Wanted you here tonight so i can finally get the chance to talk to you.”
what?
“I can’t.” You can’t do this to your sister could you? She seemingly really likes this guy. No matter how hot you think he is. “Why not?” “My sister likes you.” You blurt out. He doesn’t seem shocked by your reply. as if he already knew this info already. he just looks up to the living room with a shrug, “Doesn’t seem like she likes me much.” You turn your head and see her sitting on some guys lap making out with him. You’re gonna fucking kill her. She was so determined early what happened to that?
“oh..” “come with me.” he offers you his hand, no pressure for you to take it. You shake your head, “im older than you..” “And? that's even better.” you raise your eyebrows at him, finally feeling relaxed for the first time since you stepped through the door. “You into older women?” He shrugs with a smirk on his face, “could be, never been with one. never been with anyone like you.” you flush but try to keep up your attitude. “You couldn’t handle me.”
He leans down and whispers in your ear, “I would love to try,” He presses a kiss on your ear before pulling back and once again offering you his hand. “You don’t have to say yes.” With one more glance at your sister who seems to be eagerly shoving her tongue down that poor guys throat you grab his hand. “fine, but you better make this worth it.” “Believe me, i will.”
You don’t make another sound as he’s leading you up the stairs. you try to keep your face hidden in case you sister just so happened to look in your direction. you don’t look up until you enter a bedroom, standing in the middle of it. You hear a click behind you and you turn around. He grips your face and pulls you into a kiss.
You can feel his facial hair scratching against your skin in a delicious burn. He’s a good kisser, a really good kisser, but you won’t tell him that, it seems like his ego is already high enough. you two walk back until your falling back onto the bed. You watch as he rips the buttons off his shirt and throws it aimlessly on the floor. “You couldn't just unbutton it?” he laughs, “You should take it as a complement i want you so bad.”
That certainly has you pressing your thighs together and he grins before getting on top of you and kissing you once more. One of his hands slide up to your titties and play with them over the fabric of your dress while the other slides down to your core, rubbing you over your underwear. “Fuck you're so wet, all this for me?” “yes, just for you.” He laughs, “your tune as changed from the kitchen.”
He rubs over your clit and you throw your head back, “Shut up and touch me please.” he lets out another chuckle before taking his hand off your titties and bring it to move your underwear aside, “Anything for you.” He suddenly shoves two fingers into you and your hands grip his shoulders. “Fuck you’re so tight.” You can feel him wiggle and press his fingers against your walls. “cregan…” “I know i got you.” His pace is fast enough you are not whining but slow enough to where you are left aching all over. Your dress is far too tight. you are so hot you feel like you can’t breath. you arch your back and try to pull down the zipper on your back to take it off. You hear some mumbled curses from cregan before he reaches his free hand to your back and pulling it down. You let out a sigh of relief that is quickly followed by a loud moan as he plays with your clit with his thumb.
He pulls your dress down far enough with his free hand to free your breasts and lets out some more mumbled curses, admiring you with a shine in his eyes. “You are so gorgeous.” You don't respond. not that you could in your state. He leans down and takes one of your nipples in his mouth and rubs the other one with his hand.
The stimulation is too much for you to bear, your legs begin to shake which causes cregan to lift his mouth off you and look at you, “You gonna cum?” You nod your head, your eyes closed tight. “cum, fuck i wanna feel it cum.” He does not still even as his hand becomes drenched in your juices. He stops after awhile, letting you ride out your orgasm before he slowly pulls out his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and sucking on them.
He goes down to unbutton his jeans before there's a knock on his door. “cregan!”
an annoyed look dawns his face as he glares at the door, “What the fuck do you want jace?”
“Kit’s looking for her sister. want’s to tell her shes leaving. you know where she is.” You look at him alarmed and try to sit up but he just pushes you back down. “If i see her ill let her know.” there's some talking outside the door you can’t hear, its your sister and Jace. you hear footsteps fading before a key gets inserted in the lock and his head pops in. cregan lays the blanket over you to cover you.
“Jace i though i told you to fucking cover for me.” Jace just rolls his eyes, “I've been fucking doing it you dipshit, she got worried about her sister when i tried to take her back to mine.” you finally get a good look at him and you realize he's the guy that your sister was making out with on the couch. Cregan just shakes his head and rolls his eyes, “fine fine you leaving?” Jace nods and sends you a smile before you turn your head away embarrassed. “have fun.”
The door clicks with a lock and cregan tosses the blanket off you, “sorry about that.” “did you ask jace to hook up with my sister?” “don’t say it like that he actually likes her.”
he goes back to unbuttoning his jeans, “you still wanna continue?” You nod, reaching your hands over to pull him out of his pants. “You still need to make this worth it you know.”
697 notes · View notes
edenesth · 7 months
Text
The Way to His Heart [15]
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 3.5k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 14 | Fic Masterlist | Part 16
Tumblr media
"I still don't understand why you had to creep around instead of just approaching her and introducing yourself properly," Jongho remarked, rolling his eyes as Wooyoung clicked his tongue in frustration, "Oh, come on! Can you blame me? She's so beautiful, I got nervous, alright?! I've never had to talk to her before, and I just... I panicked!"
The assistant squinted at his friend, "You do realise if the general catches wind of any of that, you'll be out of a job. Don't tell me you have a crush on our mistress..."
"And you don't?!" The private investigator squeaked, eyes widening in disbelief as Jongho shook his head, unamused, "That's inappropriate. Don't you ever suggest such a thing again."
Wooyoung kept his mouth shut, realising that his friend would be the last person interested in hearing him gush about how pretty he found you. He was fully aware that you were his employer's wife and therefore off-limits. Still, it wouldn't hurt to indulge in the innocent fantasy of being a secret admirer.
Besides, he still valued his life, and it wasn't as if he was actually in love with you or anything. Deep down, humans are all visual animals, and he found his tiny crush on you completely justifiable.
Turning serious, Jongho inquired, "So, what did the mistress need help with? She's been secluded in the study ever since Prince Yeosang's departure and hadn't spoken to any of us until you showed up. Something must have happened."
With a smug nod, Wooyoung responded, "Ah, it seems I already know more than you. How does that feel, senior assistant Choi?" His grin disappeared when the younger man did not react as expected, only staring him down intimidatingly, as if daring him to continue with his playful shenanigans, "Ugh, fine, sheesh. The fourth prince invited her to his birthday banquet happening next week. She's really anxious since it's her first royal event and without General Park. She wants guidance on dealing with the royals."
Head shooting up at the revelation, the assistant knitted his brows together in concern, "The fourth prince... invited her to his birthday banquet? Did he say why?"
The private investigator shrugged, a hint of nonchalance in his tone, "He mentioned that since General Park is away, he hoped Lady Park could represent him this year."
A troubled expression clouded Jongho's features as he processed the information, his mind racing with possible implications. The idea of His Highness extending such an invitation seemed out of the ordinary, sparking unease within him.
Noticing the younger man's troubled demeanour, Wooyoung nudged him on the shoulder, concern evident in his voice, "Why do you look so bothered, man? What's on your mind?"
Jongho's stomach churned as he mulled over his thoughts, his voice tinged with apprehension as he responded, "I wouldn't have been surprised if it had been any of the other princes. But Prince Yeosang? He hasn't hosted a single birthday banquet in years. And besides, his connection with the general is minimal at best. So... what do you think he wants with our mistress?"
That revelation made the private investigator sit up straight, suddenly grasping the complexity of the situation. If what his friend said held true, it meant the fourth prince was plotting something. A surge of protectiveness for you washed over him, wanting to ensure your safety and not let his role model down.
Turning to the assistant, he asked, "Damn, I don't like the sound of that. So what's our move? Should we warn her?"
Jongho shook his head adamantly, "Absolutely not. She'd panic, and that's the last thing we need. I'll fetch the dressmaker; he's one of the general's closest friends, and along with Physician Jung's help, we'll try to figure this out."
"Oh, one more thing!" Wooyoung interjected, grabbing the younger man's attention, "Lady Park did mention that it would be great if she could somehow get in touch with Royal Secretary Choi. It seems she believes he's the only one who can offer helpful advice for navigating the royal event."
Pondering this information quietly, the assistant nodded, "Fortunately, I've corresponded with him on behalf of the general several times. I should be able to reach him easily."
Jongho furrowed his brows, noticing the unsettled expression on the investigator's face, "What's bothering you now?"
Wooyoung sighed, his expression clouded with uncertainty, "The lady also expressed her doubts about whether the royal secretary would even consider helping her. She's unsure if someone as busy as him would take the time to assist her."
Shaking his head, the assistant offered reassurance, "Don't worry. Royal Secretary Choi is genuinely one of the kindest people you'll ever meet. He shares a friendship with the general and will certainly lend a hand to our mistress if she needs it."
That would soon be clear to them all when San arrived to grace everyone in the general's estate with his presence in just a few days, leaving Hongjoong, Yunho, and Wooyoung in awe as they watched the handsome man with an exceptionally fit physique—perhaps a little too fit to be a mere secretary—walk past the three of them, who were sitting in the living hall, with a respectful nod and courteous smile.
Jongho exchanged knowing glances with them as he ushered the royal secretary into the estate and towards the study, where you awaited his guidance with your studies.
"Am I the only one who thinks that guy seems more suited for the battlefield than the royal office?" Wooyoung quipped, prompting a reluctant nod from Hongjoong. For some inexplicable reason, he found the private investigator mildly annoying, almost like a younger brother, "As much as I hate to admit it, you're right about that. He does give off that vibe."
Yunho, known for his wisdom and maturity, offered a shrug in response, "We shouldn't judge someone solely by their appearance. Perhaps the royal secretary excels in matters of intelligence rather than physical strength."
Rolling his eyes, the dressmaker fired back, "Obviously, we're just joking. Lighten up a little, Yunho, or you'll never find a wife with that boring ass attitude."
The physician pursed his lips at the jab, while Wooyoung watched with amusement as the banter between the two friends unfolded, "Says you? You're older and still single. Perhaps the problem lies closer to home."
Hongjoong scoffed in disbelief and placed his hands on his hips, "Excuse you, I'll have you know there are plenty of women vying for my attention every day. It's not my fault I have standards."
"I could say the same." Yunho retorted.
Before the banter could escalate, Jongho intervened with a heavy sigh, "I leave for a minute, and you're already arguing. How is it that all of you are older than me?"
"I agree, assistant Choi. Their behaviour was rather immature," The investigator remarked, feigning innocence when the doctor raised an eyebrow, "You're the one who instigated the whole thing."
Just as Wooyoung opened his mouth to defend himself, the assistant rubbed his temple wearily, "Oh my god, enough. Let's not forget why we're here today—to figure out the intentions of Prince Yeosang regarding our mistress."
"Is that the purpose of this gathering?" Eunsook queried as she appeared by the entrance of the living hall.
The four nodded in confirmation, and the head maid sighed before joining them, "If that's the case, I believe I may be of help. I was with the mistress in the palace on the day the master discovered he had to depart for war. Something happened with the prince while we awaited the general's return from his emergency meeting."
As she recounted the incident at the cherry blossom garden, a dawning realisation settled over all of them. Suddenly, it all clicked into place: why Yeosang, known for despising his own birthday due to its reminders of his painful existence, was now planning a celebration and extending an invitation to Lady Park, of all people. It was clear to the group that the prince had set his sights on the general's wife, and this elaborate scheme was likely his attempt to lure you away from Seonghwa.
"I understand we're all concerned about what His Highness might attempt to win over our mistress, but I believe we should have a little faith in her. Her devotion to General Park is undeniable. I don't think she would easily forsake him after all he's done for her." The physician suggested, hoping to ease the tension in the room.
As the others visibly relaxed with the reminder, the dressmaker appeared to be the only one still troubled, "Yeah, about that..." The dread in the room heightened at Hongjoong's uneasy expression.
"What is it?" Jongho inquired cautiously.
With a frustrated expression, the eldest man among them ran a hand through his hair before recounting the recent encounter with Jinjoo, your stepsister, and the doubts you were starting to entertain about your husband, "I'm sorry, it's all my fault."
The elderly woman's stomach sank at the revelation, but she shook her head to reassure the dressmaker, "No, Hongjoong, it's not your fault. You couldn't have known her stepsister would be there. No matter how much we deny it, the truth has a way of surfacing. We can't hide it from her forever."
The others nodded in agreement, though filled with worry at the implications. They knew Eunsook was right. Eventually, you would likely discover the truth. They just hadn't expected it to happen so soon, especially with Seonghwa away at war. The thought of you being possibly swayed by the fourth prince's charms sent shivers down all their spines.
Well shit, that's not good at all.
"San, you're an absolute lifesaver. Thank you so much." You expressed with gratitude after the lengthy crash course he had just given you on dealing with royal figures when attending such events, offering a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.
Returning the smile, the royal secretary noticed the fatigue and stress evident in your expression. He sensed there was more to your distress than just the fourth prince's sudden invitation to his birthday banquet. Perhaps his close relationship with his elder sister had sharpened his perception of women's emotions.
Observing your troubled expression, San gently inquired, "Are you feeling quite alright, Lady Park? If you're worried about the general, I can assure you that he is being partnered with only the best military strategist in all of Joseon. They have yet to lose a single battle thus far, I'm sure this time would be no different."
A wave of conflicting emotions washed over you at his words. On one hand, you appreciated his attempt to ease your worries about your husband's safety. On the other hand, a nagging curiosity gnawed at your mind, Jinjoo's words still lingering, urging you to delve deeper into the mysteries surrounding your family's punishments.
San's position as the royal secretary and his close friendship with the general made him an ideal source of information. Surely, he would know the intricate details of the case and could provide you with the answers you sought. However, the thought of uncovering the full truth filled you with trepidation.
What if reality's more than you could bear?
You wrestled with your inner turmoil, unsure of whether to broach the subject with Royal Secretary Choi. Part of you yearned for closure, to finally understand the events that took place without your knowledge. Yet, another part hesitated, fearing the potential consequences of unearthing Seonghwa's carefully buried secrets.
As you glanced at San, who was patiently awaiting your response, you grappled with your decision. Would you dare to confront the shadows of your fears, or would you continue to dwell in uncertainty, afraid of what truths lay beneath?
To hell with it.
Taking a deep breath, you responded, "Thank you for your reassurance regarding my husband's capabilities. However, that's not precisely what's weighing on my mind..."
He arched a curious eyebrow, intrigued by what other concerns could possibly be bothering you besides Seonghwa's safety, "I'm all ears, my lady." He offered, inviting you to share your thoughts.
Lowering your head, you recounted your recent encounter with your stepsister and the unsettling doubts it had stirred within you. Then, with a hesitant tone, you inquired, "May I seek clarification from you regarding my husband's role in the Jang family's punishments?"
San maintained a composed smile, betraying no hint of shock at your revelation. With a calm demeanour, he laced his fingers together before him, "I empathise with your concerns, Lady Park, and I want you to know that they are valid. While the details of the case are confidential, I can offer some clarity to ease your worries."
You held your breath as he continued, "The truth is, His Majesty was responsible for determining your family's physical punishments, but the general took charge of overseeing the entire process."
So, it's true.
Your heart sank at the confirmation.
"Understandably, you may find his involvement frightening. However, you need to know that this has always been the nature of his job. If you think him cruel, remember that every drop of blood shed was in service of this nation's security. He's doing what only a few have the guts to do. And in this case, it's out of love for you that he was determined to ensure that those who harmed you and your mother faced justice. My lady, can you truly fault him for that?"
His words struck you like a boulder, and you realised he might be onto something.
The royal secretary grinned as he observed your expression, knowing his words were making an impact, "Besides, you've been here long enough to witness how good he can be to those he cares about. That includes you, all the staff in this estate, as well as his loyal friends currently seated in the living hall. Surely, there must be a good reason why these people choose to remain by his side, wouldn't you agree?"
Noting your silence and contemplative expression, San understood that you needed time to digest everything. While he hoped he had made a valid point, he knew that your conflicting emotions wouldn't dissipate so easily. Nevertheless, he had done his best to encourage you to keep an open mind and speak the truth.
Ultimately, the next steps were up to you.
"As much as I'd like to stay and chat, I have another appointment scheduled in an hour, so I should probably head to my next destination." He announced, rising from his seat opposite you.
His words snapped you out of your reverie as you got up after him, "Ah, yes, of course. I can't thank you enough for everything, San."
As you escorted him towards the exit, he smiled warmly at you, "You're most welcome, Lady Park. Don't fret too much about the royal event next week. I'm sure you'll do splendidly, especially considering you've already managed to impress the fourth prince. He's not an easy royal to handle, so that's quite an achievement."
Prince Yeosang is... not easy to handle?
Before you could ask him to elaborate, the royal secretary was already boarding his carriage. With a defeated sigh, you waved at him as the vehicle began to pull away.
Heading back inside, your mind reeled from his words. His Highness had never seemed difficult around you, so you struggled to comprehend what San meant. Besides his slightly playful demeanour, you didn't find the prince hard to handle in any way.
Before you knew it, your head began to throb with the endless thoughts swirling around. Eunsook rushed over in concern when she saw you swaying, your hands pressed against your temples.
"Mistress! Are you feeling alright? Oh dear, you look exhausted," She exclaimed, her worry evident in her voice, "That's enough studying for today. Go and rest. I'll bring you dinner when it's ready."
Throughout the rest of the week, Jongho and the others couldn't bring themselves to warn you about the potential advances of the fourth prince. They noticed how visibly stressed you were, dedicating all your time to refining your ladylike etiquette and practising formal speech with the head maid. Your determination for perfection in your debut at a royal event was clear as day.
After receiving all the help you needed, you were finally ready for the banquet. Standing before the mirror, you inspected yourself, admiring the delicate red flower the dressmaker had once again helped you paint on your forehead, perfectly complementing your new hanbok, "Are you pleased with the look, Lady Park?"
You nodded enthusiastically, "Absolutely, Hongjoong. You never disappoint, and you know that."
With newfound confidence, you departed from the general's estate, accompanied by Jongho and Eunsook. Mentally reviewing the list of potential royals in attendance, you appreciated Wooyoung's efforts in the past week as he assisted you with retrieving specific books from the public library and studying the royal family tree.
The private investigator lingered near the estate's entrance after seeing you off, his jaw slightly agape. He had always found you pretty, but seeing you all dressed up and with the flower on your forehead, he was struck by your ethereal beauty. Just as he was about to entertain the thought that Seonghwa must have saved an entire country to deserve someone like you, he realised that might actually be true.
"Excuse me, Jung Wooyoung. That's not your lady to be ogling like that. Behave yourself, or I'll have to whoop your ass on behalf of the general." Hongjoong warned, rolling his eyes as the younger man pouted before sulking back inside the estate.
As your carriage approached the familiar high palace walls, Jongho and Eunsook exchanged determined glances. They had agreed to stick by your side at all times, wanting to protect you from whatever schemes Prince Yeosang might have planned for the event.
"We've arrived, mistress." The assistant announced as the carriage came to a stop.
With the head maid's assistance, you stepped down from the carriage with slightly less ease than when your husband carried you, feeling a pang in your heart as you were reminded of him. Despite your complicated feelings, you couldn't deny the longing for his presence. You hoped he was safe and well while you attended the birthday celebration of another.
Approaching the grand entrance of the hall hosting the fourth prince's birthday banquet, you noticed that the palace staff responsible for announcing guests had recognised you immediately, sparing Jongho the need to introduce you. As you reached the entrance, the staff announced in a loud voice, "Miss Jang, eldest daughter of the former Minister of Military Affairs, has arrived."
Your shock was palpable as the announcement rang out, your eyes widening and your stomach sinking at the unexpected introduction. The last thing you wanted was to be associated with your father, especially not at such a prestigious event. You had been specifically told by the prince that you were here to represent your husband. So why would they announce you like that, using your past title, when you now held a new and official one as the general's wife? The discrepancy left you feeling uneasy and out of place as you stepped into the grand hall.
What's the meaning of this, Your Highness?
« Preview of Part 16 »
"General Park! Letters for General Park!"
The messenger's urgent cry echoed through the camp, drawing attention to the main tent where Seonghwa typically conducted his affairs between battles. Bursting into the tent, the messenger gasped for breath, his eyes darting around, "Sir, may I enter?"
"Come in," A deep voice replied, but it wasn't the general's. Officer Song, the military strategist, sat alone inside, his gaze fixed on the newcomer, "General Park is uhh... preoccupied elsewhere at the moment. What brings you here, soldier?"
Handing over the stack of letters he carried, the messenger answered, "The general has received a few missives, one from his assistant and another from His Highness, the fourth prince."
Mingi's brow furrowed in confusion, "The fourth prince?"
The messenger nodded vigorously, "Yes, His Highness mentioned it's regarding an urgent matter and should be delivered to the general as soon as possible."
Officer Song nodded in acknowledgement, "I see. Leave it to me, soldier. I'll ensure it reaches him as soon as he's available."
As soon as the messenger departed, Mingi's curiosity overwhelmed him, and he unfolded the letter from Prince Yeosang. His breath hitched as he absorbed the concise yet weighty message. The prince started off by conveying gratitude for Seonghwa's service to the nation and extended well wishes, reassuring him not to worry about returning.
However, the content took a surprising turn with his final paragraph.
'Out of respect for you, I am writing to inform you that I will be proposing to Miss Jang. I believe she deserves the freedom to choose her own husband. Perhaps what she needs is someone who can remain by her side and not cause her any worry. If you truly care about her happiness, you would understand.'
Tumblr media
Once again setting the stage for the main event HAHA sorry for the (sorta) filler chapter, but I promise there will definitely be drama in the next part.😈
Also, thank you so much for 1.3k followers! As always, thank you for reading and please let me know your thoughts! <3
Tag list (1/9): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sanstreasure0305 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rcig4r @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @maoyueze @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @chngbnwf @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina @kyukyustar @taytayy178 @appleschre @brielle-in-the-galaxy @kamabokogonpachro @laurenwidjaja @yangwonielvrs @n1k1mura @idkwgoh @loveateez @linosllvr @wolfgurl2600-blog
Tag list (cont.): see comment/reply section
Tumblr media
All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
640 notes · View notes
mediumgayitalian · 6 months
Text
prev
———
Hades’ favourite thing to rant about is how much his family forgets about and sidelines him. Nico has literally never once given the lecture his full attention, because why the fresh fuck would he subject himself to that, but he discovers, lying facedown on the floor of Cabin Three, that he must have internalised enough of it to remember some key points.
He is loathe to admit it, but Father is right. How come the Poseidon cabin floors are so nice and comfortable? The floor of Cabin Thirteen sucks. Whenever he has Floor Time in his own cabin, he gets bruised and cold. Injustice.
“Could you suffer quieter? I’m trying to study.”
“Shut up, Percy.”
“I’m not the one groaning in misery.”
“Shut up, Percy.”
Percy sighs heavily. There’s a loud thud as he snaps his textbook shut, and the creak of mattress springs as he shifts.
“You’re so fuckin’ irritating, you know that?”
“Coming from you,” Nico says indignantly, pushing up to glare at him. Percy makes a face back. “I am here, having a crisis, being vulnerable in front of you —”
“Oh my gods.”
“— like you suggested, to rebuild our tenuous relationship —”
“I wish the prophecy had killed me. Either one, I’m not picky.”
“— and you are studying! Nose in a book! You hate reading! You are doing this just to spite me!”
“I am doing this to pass my classes,” Percy snips. “Someone should send you to public school. You need to experience that particular level of hell.”
“Experienced hell already, thanks. Don’t need a redo.”
“Tartarus references don’t shut me up, Zombie Boy. I’ve been there too.”
“Ugh.”
Percy rolls his eyes, turning back to his textbook. Nico contemplates rolling back on the floor to Ruminate and Think (after the second failure in a row he has a much to think about, like what the fuck is he supposed to do, should he even fucking bother, is he doomed to life without love, etc, etc) but finds himself, instead, sitting upright. Watching his — friend. Watching his heavy frown, listening to the bit-back curses and the crinkle of pages when he holds the book too tightly.
He’s moody, today. Sullen. Ate his breakfast in silence and stomped off to the sword fighting arena, raising hurricane downpour around the open theatre to deter anyone from joining him. Coincidentally, Annabeth has not been seen all day.
“Are you okay?” Nico asks quietly.
Percy shrugs, glancing over then glancing quickly away. “Fine.”
“I mean. You flooded half the camp. So.”
“Just drop it, Nico. If you’re going to stay in here, be quiet.”
Nico bites back the automatic, scathing retort. Be quiet, Nicolò! Lalalalala! Don’t tell me what to do! Ugh! I hate having a little brother! Yeah, well, I hate you too!
A quick, cut-off choking sound cuts through his thoughts. He looks up, startled, to find Percy’s face red, to find him swiping angrily at his cheeks.
“Woah,” he murmurs, climbing hastily upright. He ignores the loud chanting in his brain telling him to leave, the discomfort swirling in his stomach at seeing someone cry, seeing another man cry, instead hovering awkwardly. Percy shrugs off the hand he touches hesitantly to his shoulder, and Nico holds it there, suspended, in between and outstretched.
“I’m fine. Leave me alone.”
Nico hesitates. Of all people, he…nobody wants Nico around, when they’re —whatever Percy is. Upset. The only thing he can probably do is make it worse.
But what can he do? Leave him? Get Annabeth? Jason? None of it seems right. Instead he stands, frozen, hand still half-outstretched, eyes wide.
“You can —” He clears his throat. “Um. Did something happen?”
Percy shrugs. His eyes remain glued resolutely to his textbook, although the pages are wet and warped.
“Cause you can tell me, you know. I won’t — tell anyone. Or anything.”
Gods, he is so far out of his depth. Could Kampe come back and attack? That would be easier to deal with. Nico could handle that.
“I don’t —” the pages of the textbook crinkle under Percy’s grip — “it’s fucking stupid, is what it is.”
Hovering is not the right call. He knows that much. He scans the cabin, evaluating his options — sitting back on the floor feels like a bad plan. He doesn’t think any kind of touch would be welcomed, nor is he entirely comfortable in giving it. He doesn’t want to crowd. He doesn’t want to seem too distant.
Slowly, carefully gauging Percy’s reaction, he sits on the bed, across from him. He leaves the textbook between them, letting Percy keep pretending to read it, and tucks his legs up under his knees. He fiddles absentmindedly with his ring, chewing his lip every time Percy sniffles.
“Why’s it stupid?”
Percy shrugs again. Nico resists the urge to shake him. How does anyone deal with this shit? What the hell is he even supposed to do? He’s not Jason. He’s not Annabeth. Hell, he’s not Will, who seems to read emotions intuitively, who seems to know exactly what to do when someone is scared, when someone is upset. Even when someone is angry. He tries to imagine Will, in his position. Sitting across from a crying Percy Jackson, saviour of the world. Yesterday, one of the younger kids had tripped and scraped half the skin off their arm on the basketball court. Will had been there with a soft smile and gentle, glowing hands, speaking quietly and cracking small jokes until the kid was laughing again. Nico tries to imagine that here, soft words and lighthearted jokes. It doesn’t seem right. Would he — touch Percy’s wrist, like he did with Clarisse? Drag the fight right out of him?
Is Percy even angry? Nico has seen him angry before. Murderous. Fuming.
He’s never seen him cry.
Percy’s voice is like palms scraping hard over sharp gravel stones. “I made Annabeth cry this morning.”
The way he says it makes it hard for Nico to actually understand his words. His tone of voice is — volatile, is the best way he can describe it. Loathing. Based on the curling self-hatred dripping from the sentence Nico would assume he’d tried to kill her — he says I made her cry like he doesn’t deserve to live for it. Like he’s hoping to be punished.
“That happens,” Nico says. He swallows. “When you — love people.”
He and Bianca made each other cry a lot. He just never — stopped, never gave her half a second. Sometimes she looked at him and he knew she wanted to hit him. She never did. But he knew and she knew he knew and sometimes it would well up in her eyes, and she would lock herself in the bathroom of their room and turn on the sink and cry and cry and cry. And it ached something nasty in the cavity of his chest.
Percy sneers at his hands, flexing his fingers. “People who love you don’t make you cry. That’s just — hurting. That’s people who hurt everyone around them.”
Nico frowns. “That’s not true.”
“It is,” he says venomously. “I’m supposed to be — I’m supposed to protect her. I’m supposed to keep her safe, keep her from people who cause her pain.”
“People like you?”
Percy nods.
Nico drags his teeth over his bottom lip. He thinks of bleeding fingers clinging to a tiny shaft of rock, thinks of dangerous green eyes, hard voices; thinks of a thick web clinging to a broken ankle and an abyss. Thinks of promises and oaths and choosing. Thinks of falling. Thinks of letting go.
“People who want to harm Annabeth do not jump into the Pit for her.”
The pages of Percy’s textbook have started to dry. The ink has bled, dark splotches in perfect circles. The fountain bubbles gently behind them, mattress creaking under shifting legs.
“You don’t understand what I —” He pauses, swallowing. “Did, down there.”
“D’you hurt her?”
“…I scared her.”
“Oh, well — Christ, Percy! Is that really what this — brooding is about?” He scoffs. “No shit you scared her!”
“…What?”
Percy looks at him, wide-eyed. Nico rolls his eyes.
“Aw, when you were fighting for your life in the place meant to tear your essence into atoms, did you do things that make you question your personhood? Your morals?”
“I —”
“Of course you did, dumbass! Of course you —” he takes a breath, trying to organize the jumble of thoughts in his brain — “of course the physical manifestation of darkness and distortion made you act differently than you would usually, Percy. Of course it — affected you. Gods. Of course you’re struggling.” He flicks Percy’s knee, looking at him with exaggerated exasperation. “Use your brain, why don’t you.”
A small smile quirks the corners of Percy’s mouth, although it fades as quickly as it comes. He wipes his face with his sleeve, breath shuddering.
“She didn’t scare me, though.”
“Not even once?”
“Not in the same way,” Percy admits. “I was scared, once, when I looked at her. In the death mist. But that wasn’t — her, you know? She could never scare me.”
“I mean,” Nico wrinkles his nose, trying to articulate, “I think that’s kind of abnormal?”
Percy tilts his head.
“I just mean that you have a very high threshold, Percy. For…what you’ll tolerate from people you care about.”
“Everyone has that.”
“Not in the same way you do.” He taps his knuckles, considering. “Tell me the truth — if Annabeth stabbed someone to death in front of you, in total cold blood, would you help her hide the body?”
“Yes,” he says immediately. He shrinks, a little. “Oh.”
Nico rushes to assure, placing a fleeting touch on his wrist. “It’s not necessarily a bad thing. I don’t think. It’s just —” He shrugs. “I’m used to scaring people, too. I don’t mean to. I don’t understand it. I don’t understand what I — do, it’s not intentional.”
Percy opens his mouth, but Nico stumbles on.
“But you’re not — a monster, Percy, gods. No one thinks you’re a monster. Especially not Annabeth.”
Percy wiggles his finger under his watch strap, turning it tightly around his wrist, cutting off the circulation. Nico watches but doesn’t say anything.
“You’re not, either.”
Nico blinks. “Huh?”
“A monster,” he explains. “You’re not, either.”
“Oh.” Nico shrugs. “Thanks, I guess.”
“No, I mean it, dude, I — look. Listen.” Percy sighs. “You got baggage. I put some of it on you. I’m sorry.”
Hands around his — throat — angry, angry eyes — harder — bruising — you promised! you promised! you promised!
“It’s fine.” A pause. “I did shit to you, too.”
“It’s not fine. And I know you did. We can still —”
He doesn’t finish his sentence. He sighs again, a long, defeated sound, and curls in on himself.
“One day you’ll forgive yourself,” Nico murmurs. “One day I’ll — me too, I guess. Me and you.”
Percy smiles tiredly. “And we’ll be okay?”
“No. You’ll still be annoying.”
He snorts. “Whatever. Drama queen.”
“Oh, I’m the drama queen, Mr. I Don’t Deserve To Be Loved.”
Percy snorts. He turns back to his textbook, fiddling with the dried page, and snorts again, trying to duck his head. Nico bites the corner of his mouth, hard. Percy glances up again, and Nico meets his eyes, and they —
Gods, they’re bad at this.
But suddenly Percy can’t choke back his laughter, and it’s wheezing and self-deprecating and still kind of teary and Nico is laughing, too, because thank the gods that shit is over. Percy’s red-cheeked and Nico is red-cheeked and neither of them are going to look at each other for a week, Nico’s sure, but for now he can roll his eyes at Percy’s melodrama and dodge his embarrassed shoving, and it’s fine.
“You should talk to Annabeth,” Nico suggests, when the giggling has toned down.
Percy picks at the torn-up skin around his nails. “Probably.”
“Are you going to?”
“Why were you lying on the floor?” Percy asks instead. It is the least subtle subject change of all time, but Nico takes it as the hint it is and drops the subject. It’s not his business, anyway. They’ll talk. He knows Annabeth better than to think she’ll let it fester, at least.
“Oh, you know. Crushing weight of being alive, mortifying ordeal of being known, et cetera, et cetera.”
“Oh my gods. I’m sorry I asked.”
“Well, serves you right then, you selfish bitch.”
Percy snorts. “What, I cry all over you and now it’s your turn to vent?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly how it works. Transactional and eye-for-an-eye. Exactly as friendship should be.”
“You’re not nearly as funny as you think you are,” Percy says, but he can’t tamp down his smile any more than he can stop his eyes from rolling, so there. Nico is exactly as funny as he thinks he is, thank you very much. A regular comedian.
Percy snaps textbook closed and sets it on the bedside table. “So.”
“So.”
Nico squirms. Suddenly he’s not sure why the hell he came in here in the first place. Are the floors in Cabin Thirteen really that bad? Surely not. Surely Floor Time didn’t have to be in Percy’s cabin.
(He blames Father for this. He’s horribly nosy. No doubt he’s passed his nosiness onto Nico, irregardless of his lack of DNA, and made Nico the way that he is. He can’t think of a single other reason he ducked into the cabin after lunch, when Percy still hadn’t shown his face.)
“Dude, come on. You came in here and whined and huffed and made a nuisance of yourself for literally forty minutes, and now that I’m giving you the attention you begged for you don’t want it? Nuh-uh. Spill.”
“There’s nothing to spill about,” Nico protests, “gods, can’t a man just complain in peace —”
“Ha! Not sure you can call yourself a ‘man’ if you’re voice is still cracking, squirt.”
“I literally hate you. Not joking.”
“Uh-huh. Okay.” Percy raises an eyebrow. “Well, since my guts are already spilled out and flopping all over the floor —”
“Disgusting.”
“—so it’s your turn, now.” He pokes Nico’s bicep. Nico bats him away, rolling off the bed and hitting the floor, scooting over to put more space between them. Thankfully, Percy doesn’t follow, and he exhales, settling his back against the bed frame. The mattress springs creak again as he readjusts. “You can tell me, you know.” Nico can hear the smile in his voice at the cheeky repitition. “I won’t — tell anyone. Or anything. Ahem.”
“You’re so annoying.” Nico picks at a loose thread in the knees of his pants, looping it around his finger.
Will thinks ripped jeans are stupid. He hadn’t said so outright, when Nico came back from his Aphrodite-Cabin-enforced shopping trip, but Nico had noticed his pursed lips and deliberately schooled face. When he’d pressed about it, pestering him until he’d given up with the very southern passive aggressive if you like, Nico, I love, don’t you worry about it answer, he’d gotten a forty minute rant about jeans that “sold less jean for more fuckin’ money” that made him laugh until he cried.
He yanks the thread and pulls. The hole widens.
“Oh my gods, you’re actually whipped. Is that what this is?”
Nico flushes. “Shut up.”
“It is!” Percy grins widely, wicked delight in his eyes. “You are literally thinking about him right now! You might as well be kicking your feet! You —”
“Shut up, Percy, gods.”
“I’ve never seen you so red,” he says instead, because he is incapable of following instructions. His smile fades, face softening into something more pensive. “You must really like him.”
Nico shrugs. Is that what he feels for Will? Gorgeous. I’ve been crushing on you forever. He likes a lot of people. You always know just what I need. A lot of people aren’t Will.
“He’s not scared of me.” No matter how much he fiddles with it, the metal of his ring is always cold. Cold hands, he supposes. He never heats up much. “Or. intimated. Creeped out. He thinks I’m —”
He clamps his mouth shut. A bubble of something expands in his chest, growing out of his lungs, past his shoulders, pushing his throat closed. He swallows, hard, trying to shove it back, but — Nico! Hey! You think I couldn’t stand to see a friendly face? No way, Death Boy, no more Underworld-y magic for you! I can literally feel you fading! My hands are still shaking — here, feel.
“Gorgeous?” The smile on Percy’s face is teasing, but much softer than before. “I heard he — said.”
Maybe it’s the redness of Percy’s nose that hasn’t quite faded, or his still-puffy eyes, but finally the bubble pops, and Nico sighs, tipping his head back until it rests on the edge of the bed. He closes his eyes. After a beat of hesitation, callused fingers brush through his hair, ruffling it, lingering awkwardly before pulling away. He smiles.
“Yes.”
“…Really? He just up and told you, that he had a —”
Percy stumbles on the words. Nico peeks one eye open and grinning wryly. “Yeah. He’s a hell of a lot braver than I am. Or maybe he’s just shameless.”
“He was always really intense about being your friend.” Percy screws up his face, tilting his head as if envisioning it. “I didn’t understand what that meant, at first. I didn’t get…the reason? Behind it? If that makes sense.”
“You forgot about gay people,” Nico says drily. “I know.”
“This is true,” Percy admits. He grins, sheepish. “That’s an L on my part. Every time me and Annabeth went looking for you he’d somehow know about it and ask us a bajillion questions when we got back. I just thought he was really into necromancy, or something, but now it’s like…damn.”
Nico covers his eyes with his hand, fighting back an embarrassed smile. He thinks your eyes are a tie between moonstone and agate, in case you were wondering. There is literally not a single soul in this camp unaware about how much he likes you.
“You’d think it would be easier to get him to go out with me, then.”
“It hasn’t been?”
Nico throws his hands up. “No! He doesn’t — I got him flowers, Percy, and he ground them up to make a poultice. He thought the rock I got him was a bribe. I open every door for him and I always pull out a chair for him at counsellor meetings. I make sure to stand up first when we’re sitting together and offer him a hand. I don’t know what else I can — do, gods.” He makes a noise of frustration, glaring at the ceiling. “I’m being as obvious as I can be. What am I gonna have to do to get him to realise? Fuckin’ — tattoo his name on my forehead?”
Percy slides his hand into his pocket, pulling out his pen. He twists it around his fingers, fiddling with the cap, picking at the plastic casing. He uses the end of it to trace mindless swirls on his thigh, which Nico can’t help but feel is dangerous. One wrong move and he better hope Nico can drag him to the fountain fast enough to stabilize him. But his eyes are far away, teeth gnawing on the inside of his cheek.
“There is a chance,” he says slowly, “that he…knows.”
Nico frowns, turning to face him properly. He looks resolutely at his lap. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I — well.” He does finally uncap his blade, staring at the soft glow of the bronze, rubbing his thumbnail over the leather handle. “I. Knew,” he says haltingly. “That Annabeth liked me. I —”
Nico watches him carefully. This is…news, to him. He didn’t keep up much on camp drama about the two of them — for obvious reasons — but he hardly had to. Even during his brief, one or two day stops at Camp, Percy and Annabeth gossip was impossible to avoid. People talked about them constantly, about how much they obviously cared for each other, how oblivious, especially, Percy was. It used to give him a twisted sort of hope.
“You…knew? And you didn’t do anything?”
Percy winces. “She got frustrated with hiding it. She kissed me, once, before I blew up St. Helens. And I just —” He shrugs. “I couldn’t believe that someone like her would want anything to do with someone like me.”
It’s impossible to miss his meaning, to miss the self-directed bitterness at the end of his words. Nico recognises it because he practically invented it. Someone like me. Someone disgusting, ugly, unworthy. Someone bitter and twisted and wrong. Someone so undeserving.
“I think Will is like me,” Percy continues softly. “That — insecurity.” He says the word quickly, like he might be able to hide it in the rest of the sentence. “I think he thinks very highly of you. And I think it’s hard for him to believe that you want to — to lower yourself, to be with him.”
“That’s inane,” Nico argues. “He’s — bright and kind and smart and — he’s fucking everything, what is he —!”
“He grew up a healer in a camp full of warriors. Full of talented people,” Percy murmurs. “When you’re surrounded by people who know what they’re doing, it’s easy to feel like a loser.”
Nico opens his mouth, closing it again. On principle he doesn’t agree with Percy. It doesn’t make sense. Every single person at this camp has relied on Will in more than one way for as long as he’s been here — as long as he’s been healing them. How could he not know what his purpose is? How could he not realise his talents?
Ace bandage, sound and unwound. Hard blue eyes, self-directed sneer. I’m just a healer.
“He’s not a loser,” Nico says eventually. “I don’t think he’s a — loser.”
Nico thinks he’s quite a bit more than that, actually. In fact if all words in the any language he knows, ‘loser’ is probably the least apt to describe him.
“How do I make him realise? Make him —”
Percy shrugs. “Took Annabeth several years and I still think I’m — well. I still struggle. You’ll have to be patient.” He glances over, and that mischevious smile is back on his face, the one that promises trouble and guarantees Nico an excuse to kick him. “Or, you know, you could just tell him that you think he’s bright, and kind, and smart, and beautiful, and —”
Nico does indeed kick him. He falls back against his pillow, laughing, curled against his side.
“I did not — I did not say beautiful,” Nico says hotly, “that was not on the list, you total jackass —”
Percy only laughs harder, no matter how many times Nico kicks him.
———
next
646 notes · View notes
cosmerelists · 1 month
Text
Conversations Happening In The Stands When Kaladin Broke Relis' Shardplate Through A Kick in the 4v1 Duel
As requested by anon. :)
This anon wanted me to imagine what people said when Kaladin--just a normal darkeyed guard so far as anyone knew--freaking cracked a dude's shardplate by kicking it during the 4v1 duel. So here are some conversations I think might have happened in the stands!
1. 
"Storming hell--did you see that? That guard just kicked that guy and now the guy's shardplate is cracked!" "Oh…..okay. This makes way more sense now." "It…It does??" "Yeah! This is obviously staged." "….Staged?" "Ha ha, come on! You can't KICK shardplate into cracking! That can't be real shardplate. It's clear this whole thing is staged. Probably some sort of machinations that Dalinar and Sadeas came up with together." "Man, if you start with that stupid conspiracy theory again…" "I'm TELLING you! Their FEUD is FAKE and they are DATING!" "…Just watch the duel."
2.
"Uh…was that cracking sound the man's legs or the Shardplate?" "It must have been his legs! Poor guy." "No! He's getting up! I think…I think it was the Shardplate!" "He….he broke the Shardplate by KICKING it?" "No…it must have already been cracked...right?" "He did knock the Shardbearer over, though. With the kick." "Y-Yeah….I guess he never skips leg day…" "…" "…" "This duel just keeps getting crazier!"
3.
"Ugh. I don't think Relis is ever gonna live this down. Imagine being knocked over by a dude with no armor and a spear." "A darkeyed guy with no armor and a spear." "Yeah…humiliating." "We gotta uninvite him from brunch." "That's harsh but fair."
4.
"Hey, uh…just how strong are darkeyes' legs?" "They appear to be very, very strong." "Do you think I should treat my employees better?" "That's your takeaway?!"
5. 
"I didn't realize Relis' shardplate had grown that weak! Even a kick could crack it!" "Ha ha, yeah! And that guard was TOTALLY knocked over even so!" "Shardplate is so strong and magnificent, but if you strike it when it is very, very weakened, even normal human strength can do it in." "That is definitely my takeaway too." 
6.
"I knew Bridgemen's arms must be strong from, like, carrying the bridge. But I didn't realize their legs were so strong too!" "Well, what do you think they were using to run all that way?" "Still, though!"
7. 
"Oh Almighty I think he broke his legs!!!" "No, no--he's fine! Look!" "But…I could have SWORN they bent weirdly for a second." "Don't be ridiculous--what, do you think his legs just magically healed?" "No…that would be ridiculous." "Ha ha yeah!"
8.
"I can see why Dalinar chose a bridgeman to be his head guard." "Yeah." "I'm afraid." "I'm afraid too."
9. 
"I can't imagine caring that much about my job." "Hmmm?" "If my bosses' sons were in danger like that, I'd be like, 'Whelp, good luck with that.'" "That man's a guard, though." "I'm a guard." "Oh…right." "And I'm telling you. I ain't kicking any enemies in Shardplate for my boss." "That's just a healthy work-life balance." "Do you think we should give Stormblessed one of our pamphlets?" "If he survives, then definitely."
10.
"[sighs]" "…Why are you sighing dreamily?" "It's just--imagine being the sort of man where if you see a fully armed Shardbearer heading for your beloved, you immediately attack! Even if you have no armor or weapons and your life is on the line!" "He has a spear." "Spears don't count as weapons in a Shardblade duel." "Well but -- wait. Did you say 'beloved'?" "Um, yeah. What fight are YOU watching?" "Ugh. If you start in with that STUPID conspiracy theory again…" "I'm telling you! Adolin and Stormblessed are DATING and that red-haired chick is just their BEARD!" "...Just watch the duel."
350 notes · View notes
denwritesandcries · 9 months
Text
Call me Yours – N.S
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: natalie scatorccio x fem!reader
Summary: You’re in a closet with Natalie Scatorccio. How ironic.
Word count: 2,3k.
Content: NSFW minors dni, no crash!AU, cursing, arguing, jealousy, makeout session, thigh riding, slightly toxic behavior?? but it wouldn't be a yellowjacket relationship if it weren't just a little.
Note: Is it a secret relationship?? Friends with benefits??? I don't know man but they’re horny.
English is not my first language.
You're in a closet with Natalie Scatorccio.
There is a party going on outside, students filling the rooms of Lottie's house with loud generic music playing in the background, but the small room you two were locked in remained silent, too silent.
“See ya’ in 7 minutes, ladies!” Van's mocking voice cuts through the air, but a knife could have done the same; the blonde snorts and you roll your eyes, fixing your gaze somewhere in the darkness so you don't have to face her.
“Ugh, how old does she think we are?” Natalie hisses, you can feel her eyes on your face, even though you can't see much more than the outline of her body at the moment.
You say nothing, arms crossed over your chest and a frown covering your face, Nat tries again:
“I didn’t even want to come to this stupid party.”
“I get it,” you bite, just because you know her well enough to guess that she won’t stop complaining until she gets something out of you, “I get that you don’t want to be here, Natalie.”
She must finally realize how mad you are – mad at her – at the sound of her full name instead of the nickname that always seemed to be on the tip of your tongue, because you swear you can hear her teeth chattering when she shuts her mouth.
With a growl of frustration, you let your head hit the wall with a thud. Great, your night was already being shit, the last thing you needed was to end up playing 7 minutes in heaven with the person who was the cause of your bad mood. Simply amazing.
You see, Natalie had been acting weird for days now, randomly avoiding your company and acting like she didn't know you in the school hallways and being really rude to you during practice. Now, this might even be normal and acceptable behavior from the quiet blonde if you were anyone else, but you weren't. You are her girlfriend.
Are? Were? You don't know for sure anymore given the way she's been acting lately.
Maybe it wouldn't have made you so angry – confused? Yes. Sad? Definitely, but not angry like that – if it weren't for today, for the party.
You had planned to meet Nat at Lottie's party and corner her to finally make her explain what the hell is wrong, dammit, because one afternoon you're smoking with your girlfriend and friends quietly in the basement and the next she's throwing you daggers with her glance every time you open your mouth around her. Anyway, that's what you were going to do, until you found her in the Matthews' giant kitchen leaning against the counter with a cup of beer in her hand and Kevyn Tan practically throwing himself at her, keeping an arm full of spike bracelets wrapped around her shoulders and face with heavy makeup too close to hers to be considered friendly, drooling for Nat like he's always done since you've known about his existence.
Now that really pissed you off.
Who does that sad, emo, pitiful boy think he is to touch your girlfriend like that? And why is she letting him?
You think she could feel you fuming as you stared at them from the door, because the next second she lifted her head and looked at you like a deer caught in the headlights, as if she knew exactly that she was doing something she shouldn't have.
Screw it, you thought, if she'd rather act like you didn't matter anymore, then fine. You won't be standing just watching.
You turned around and only managed to disappear around the house for the next half hour before Taissa appeared with a tired frown and practically dragged you to where the group had gathered with an empty bottle, because Van and Jackie wanted to play something – 'If I'm in this, then you’re too!’ – and well, fuck.
You two have been completely quiet for almost a whole minute and that it's eating you alive; Nat has always handled silence well, you haven't.
Fidgeting with the hem of your own shirt angrily, you huff and give up on the tough act, the blonde straightens up when she hears your footsteps approaching her.
"What is happening?" Your voice comes out in a shamefully desperate tone, “Why are you acting like this with me? What did I do?"
You can see her now, being so close and now used to the dark; her fists are clenched, Natalie keeps her eyes fixed on your figure. For a moment, you think she's going to keep her cold facade and avoid your question with some sarcastic response, she most likely considered it, from the way her mouth opens and closes for a quick moment.
She turns her face to the side, trying to hide, but you can see the difference in tone in the paleness of her skin anyway. Oh, she's embarrassed.
“Nat?”
She mumbles something you don't understand, then your curiosity gives way to the anger and your hands find her face, turning it so Natalie is looking at you.
"What was this?" You ask again, softly this time.
“You called me your girlfriend.” She spits it out fast as if it were just a single sentence, rolling her eyes at your confused face, “You called me your girlfriend to everyone when we were smoking after practice last week.”
Oh, you remember that, when Jackie decided to lecture you all about the smell of smoke that lingered on her clothes after she and Shauna decided to tag along on one of your hangouts with Lottie, Van and Tai, turning up her nose and talking about how you all – and especially Nat – should stop with this habit. ‘Jackie, stop bothering my girlfriend!’, that’s what you said. Is that what made you spend a whole week grounded in the doghouse?
“...And isn’t that what we are?” You try, unsure. This conversation is not taking a very pleasant turn toward a reconciliation.
Nat bites hard her bottom lip, you can see her struggling with the next words:
“It’s just… no one was supposed to know.”
“Oh,” you mutter pathetically, sounding very much like a wounded puppy, “So that’s the problem.”
You're in a closet with Natalie Scatorccio. How ironic.
You can tell she regrets it the moment she says it, grabbing your hands in hers as you pull away.
“No, no, I’m sorry. I– I didn’t mean it like that.”
“How did you meant that then?” Your initial anger and frustration return with a vengeance, you move forward until Nat's back hits a shelf in the small room.
Natalie always does this. Avoid anything that labels your relationship as real; calling your dates ‘hangouts’, not touching you when there are people around, leaving your house before you wake up in the morning, avoiding kisses and caresses that don't initiate anything sexual, calling you ‘friend’ when you can see that the whole team knows this is not all you two are.
Still, – still – she always shows up at your house when she's upset; she doesn't like it when you miss your 'hangouts'; always stays close to you wherever you are together; gets mad when she sees you talking to other girls, even if they are nothing more than classmates; leaves marks all over your body, but doesn't let you do the same, spots and more spots all over your neck that are impossible to cover. People know that you're dating, they just don't know that you're dating Natalie.
And then she gets mad at you for finally putting a name to whatever this is and starts avoiding you completely, even though it's been months since it all started and you've known each other for years.
Nat gasps when your hands find her waist with a firm grip, bringing your lips closer to her ear:
“I’m gonna make you want me to be your girlfriend.”
You swear you feel the shiver that runs through her body. Nat smells like cigarettes and mint gum and it tastes the same when your mouth meets hers.
Her arms are around your neck before she's even processed what's happening, black painted nails playing with the hair on the back of your neck like it's second nature – and it is.
The way Natalie tilts her head to deepen the kiss and bites your lip hard when your hands come up to caress the skin under her shirt says your actions are much appreciated.
The husky, needy moan that escapes your throat when you realize she's braless, palming and massaging her soft skin brings a cocky smile to her face, she sighs, breaking the kiss and letting her head fall back against the shelf in satisfaction.
Nat doesn't moan, not like you do. She seems to want to hold back as much as possible, taking all kinds of reactions from you and your body, but not giving the pleasure of having the same from her. You want to change this.
You let your mouth roam from her strong jaw to her pale neck, leaving wet kisses, bites, and marks. Many marks. You bite the thin skin in different spots, soothing the bite with your tongue, hoping for the spots to form and stay there for days, for everyone to see.
You lazily slide a knee between her legs when you feel Natalie try to turn you around to take control. You usually let her do it, but not today. She squeals in surprise and pleasure, hips instantly grinding against you.
“Nah-ah, Nat,” you cut, bringing a hand down to slow the pace of her hips, “I guess you shouldn’t take anything today, or do you think I forgot about how much you paid attention to that little emo bastard earlier, huh?”
“You hate him that much, huh?” She tries to say in a mockery tone, wanting to turn the tables again, but it sounds pathetic as her voice breaks later in the last words.
“Yes,” you say easily, leaving a lingering kiss on her shoulder, finding her pulse point, “He was touching you. Touching my girlfriend.”
You bite down hard on the skin when Natalie turns her head to grant access and she moans, actually moans, fuck, you did it. A full sound, loud enough to make your pupils dilate until your irises almost disappear. This, this sound, you want to hear this forever.
It's been more than seven minutes, you think, or maybe our discussion was just really quick. You wonder if you would have time to take one of her breasts into your mouth, feeling the way she rolls her eyes and thrusts her hips against your thigh, now free from your hands, when you roll her nipples hard between your fingers.
She sighs as she receives another kiss from you, much softer now, more affectionate, feeling her hand tracing circles on your cheek.
A quick, loud knock on the door startles you both, making Nat jump and bang her head against one of the shelves behind her and knock something over, “Fuck!” She screams and you instinctively reach for her head to check for injuries.
You look at the source of the knock, it's definitely not Van calling, she would have opened the door at once just to laugh at your faces.
“Girls, time is over!” Jackie's voice sings on the other side.
“Ugh,” Natalie grunts, clearly frustrated at being interrupted so abruptly, she takes the opportunity to finally take a look at the closet as you head towards the door, “Is this some kind of pantry?”
“I don’t know,” you shrug, “Rich people have so many random rooms scattered around their houses.”
There are loud whistles and jeers as you leave, half the football team gathered in the busy room and giving you knowing looks, you give Van the finger when she points out the traces of dark lipstick on your mouth.
“Were you guys actually going to fuck in there?” She teases, arching an eyebrow with a smirk.
You open your mouth to retort – probably with something stupid – but Natalie is quicker:
“Fuck off Van, stop bothering my girlfriend.”
Van gives up the provocation, raising her arms in surrender and Nat rolls her eyes as if she hadn't said anything important, but you're absolutely frozen, listening to your heart beating rapidly against your ears.
Natalie looks back when she notices you standing still and snorts in amusement at your reaction, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you with her.
“C’mon,” she says, “Let’s go, silly, I got something to do–”
“Move!” Jackie interrupts with an anxious tone, pushing you gently by the shoulder and bouncing on her heels, “It’s our turn.”
You catch a glimpse of Shauna standing shyly behind her like a shadow being dragged to the closet and Jeff sitting on the floor with the rest of his classmates with the most confused and defeated expression you've ever seen as Nat hurriedly guides you out.
When you're about to get into her car, Natalie surprises you, grabbing your waist with her cold hands and pressing you against the door, hungry eyes fixed on your form.
“I–” you stutter nervously, “I thought we were going home?”
Natalie nods.
“We are,” she agrees, “I just have to do you first.”
Well, maybe your night won't end as bad as you thought it would.
691 notes · View notes
lucysarah-c · 4 months
Note
Hear me out, alpha Levi x omega reader, typical dad of the scouts- not touchy feely but the kids are always protected and in line. Reader is the polar opposite, mushy gushy and all the scouts flock to them for affection, or baked goods- ya know, mom and dad.
Levi always sees them flock to reader and grumbles in public, but internally he’s BROODY AF and after especially good days of reader providing for the scouts, he takes reader home and practices makin their own lil scouts 🥲🙈 cuz if reader can provide so well for this crew??? Def can provide for his own spawn.
I must say, the word "broody" got me giggling haha.
Sigh Why does the idea of Alpha Levi get me every time? As you say, he would be grumpy, like "she treats them as kids, she's spoiling them rotten. They are soldiers," but deep down, this man is imagining her spoiling his kids rotten.
Especially the act of "courting." Like if the reader isn't a soldier, him trying to do stuff to catch her attention… like those male birds cleaning nests haha. It got me giggling but also in the mood. Perhaps he shows up to carry something heavy for her, to showcase how strong his kids would be. That's not working? Fine, then he shows how dedicated he can be. Maybe he brings her a plant or a flower from outside the walls for her to enjoy. 'See how much of a dedicated partner I am?… Mate with me.'
This man would complain, but seeing her cleaning Eren's face that always gets dirty, softly reprimanding him… Ugh, baby fever? WHO KNOWS YOU. This man has a WHOLE critical hospitalization of wanting a kid. Especially if he hasn't been with an omega in a while and the season is coming in. God, she smells divine, and he simply has to fight not to drool. Despite him being the one who tells his own cadets to "behave."
She better not give him a green light for the upcoming heat because this girl would be having one kid after the other haha.
241 notes · View notes
maxtermind · 2 months
Text
SCENE 2 :: HOW MUCH TRAGEDY ↳ you were never not mine — carlos sainz ༉‧₊˚✧
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
★ : pairing :: carlos sainz x reader ★ : genre :: angst; fluff separated by a hidden emotional turmoil, carlos and y/n navigate the complexities of co-parenting their twins amidst the high-stakes f1 world. amidst paddock visits and personal healing, will they go further apart or find their way back to each other? ★ : a/n :: text posts are going to return from tom till then you can enjoy this<3 taglist form is in the series masterlist btw!! HATS OFF TO EVERY SINGLE SMAU WRITER BECAUSE THIS IS SO HARD LMAO
Tumblr media
( series masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request )
Tumblr media
carlos is typing... (y/n's pov)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
f1 10 mins ago
Tumblr media
f1 LET'S GET THE EUROPEAN LEG OF THE SEASON STARTED! 🇮🇹
username oh the admin knows what they did with carlos at the front lmao username can't wait for the races! let's goooo! 🇮🇹🏁 username so excited for this leg of the season! bring it on! 🤩 username hoping for some amazing races! good luck to all the drivers! 🙌 username here for the racing, not y/n’s drama ⤷ username ugh yes like can we focus on racing and not y/n’s drama? username italy, here we come! forza ferrari! ❤️ ⤷ username poor carlos, dealing with y/n’s drama and still racing username ready for some intense racing action! 🏎🔥 username who else is here for the drama? carlos and y/n's relationship update please! 😂 ⤷ username i hope carlos and y/n figure things out. it was so nice seeing her at the race again
yn.user 20 mins ago
Tumblr media
yn.user behind every successful man is his loving fam❤️ congratulations papa sainz
username this is a joke, right? after all the drama? lilymhe wow such a hottie and a MOM? smash! ⤷ yn.user date and time🙏 ⤷ alexalbon uhm... im right here? username weren't you just out with another man? hypocrite ⤷ username loving fam? like she didn't just get caught with another guy? 😂 username wow, pretending everything is fine now? ⤷ username guess she's trying to clean up her image good luck with that username this is so fake everyone knows the truth username acting like a loving family after everything? sure, y/n ⤷ username like who the fuck are you fooling, y/n? we know the real story username you're so pretty, y/n! i bought the tickets just to see you irl username didn't take long for the fake posts to start
carlossainz 20 mins ago
Tumblr media
carlossainz victory feels even sweeter with my kids by my side!🏆❤️
username congrats, carlos! the kids are your ONLY real supporters. username so glad you’re focusing on the kids and not the drama. ⤷ username victory without y/n? this is peak comedy😭 ⤷ username way to go, carlos! the kids are all you need! username finally, a win focused on the right people. congrats, carlos! username oh god we really lost the great war huh username great win, carlos! the kids must be so proud. ⤷ username this is the content we love. kids over drama! username well done! no need for distractions we're so proud❤️ ⤷ username the kids are his real mvps so lol username congrats, carlos! the kids are your biggest fans.
twitter
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
boo is typing... (y/n's pov)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
lily is typing… (y/n's pov)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
yn.user 20 mins ago
Tumblr media
yn.user as my boys said: finally a worthy opponent✨
username this is why some people shouldn't have kids. username she's a mess. no wonder they broke up ⤷ username using her kids for attention. disgusting! carlossainz so you're also bad at scrabble? ⤷ username oh shit carlos didn't come to play ⤷ username you tell her carlos!! username no stability for those poor kids with her around. ⤷ username kids must be so confused with a new man every week username pathetic attempt to make carlos jealous. GROW UP, Y/N!!!
carlos is typing… (y/n's pov)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
instagram stories
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.
306 notes · View notes
cassafrassie · 1 month
Text
testing the waters - (also on ao3) length: 2,938 words rating: G (v mild swearing)
It’s a slow, hot, lazy late August afternoon. The world has been saved, triangle demon vanquished, Grunkle Stan’s memories slowly returning to him, and Dipper and Mabel Pines lounge on the front deck of the Mystery Shack soaking up their last moments of summer before returning to Piedmont in just a few days.
Dipper lays flat on his back on the wood slats, watching the trees sway in the warm breeze while Mabel sprawls on the couch, tapping away on her phone.
“Oh-ho-ho!” She says after some time, breaking the easy silence.
“What?” Dipper asks, glancing at her but not moving.
“Nothing…” she replies in such a mischievous tone that Dipper immediately knows it’s anything but nothing.
Dipper lifts his head to get a better look at his sister. She’s grinning like a mad woman as she taps something on her phone.
It makes Dipper uneasy.
“Mabel,” he says, slower. “What is it?”
Mabel ignores him at first, still tapping away, but eventually looks down at him with a smug smile on her face.
“Time for you to get your own phone I think, bro-bro.”
“What? Why?”
“Well you can’t exactly expect me to be the middle man for you and your girlfriend forever.”
“Girlfri—…?” Dipper trails off as Mabel tosses him her phone, open to a short text conversation.
Pacifica: Mabel. Tell your brother to meet me at Lake Gravity Falls at 4PM today.
Mabel: OoOooh. Looking to do some more huggin’ are ya?? Or maybe taking it up a notch? 💋💋😘
Pacifica: Ugh, just tell him.
Mabel: What’s the magic woooord?
Pacifica: Now?
Mabel: Come on Pazmatazz we practiced this.
Pacifica: Don’t call me that.
Mabel: P
Mabel: L
Mabel: E
Pacifica: Fine! Please! Just stop!
Dipper throws the phone back at Mabel, a little rougher than he needed to.
“Do you have to be like that?” he bites out.
“Um, securing your romantic future? Yes, you’d think you’d be grateful, jeez. Make sure you shower before you go though, you smell like the inside of a gym sock.”
“Who says I’m going?” Dipper says, flopping back down on the deck. “She can’t just boss me around like that.”
“Sure, Dip,” Mabel says, returning to her texting.
---
Two hours later Dipper finds himself showered (he needed to anyway, okay?!), changed and waving his thanks to Soos for the ride as he trudges down toward the lake from the parking lot. To his right he sees the lake’s marina.  It’s mostly modest speed boats and fishing vessels, but rising like a skyscraper above all the rest is a large pleasure craft, at least 80 feet from bow to stern, with the familiar “N.W.” emblazoned in gold script along the side of the bow. He figures this must be his destination, so he heads down the dock toward the end, where the massive yacht rests bobbing in the water in the final slip.
“Pacifica? You there?” he calls out from the dock, finally reaching the boat.
Pacifica’s blonde head pops out from a door to the interior almost immediately. She bounces up on deck and trots over to the side, leaning over to peer down at him.
“Dipper! You came!”
She’s is wearing a striped purple polo top similar to the one she wore the night the Lilliputtians attacked, simple pleated white shorts and camel-colored boat shoes. Her long hair is pulled back into a low ponytail and the overall effect is classy but understated. She looks… nice, Dipper thinks before shaking the thought away.
“Well you kind of made it sound like I didn’t have a choice.”
Pacifica shoots him a grin that’s just a little dazzling in the late afternoon light, and before he knows it his feet are carrying him up dock's boarding steps to the side of the boat. As he lifts his foot to step onto the yacht, however, Pacifica holds up her palm, stopping him.
“Ah, ah, ah, Pines! First rule of boating etiquette. Always ask for permission to board.”
“You invited me here!” he shoots back.
“Manners still matter,” she says, flipping her hair.
Dipper groans. He feels annoyance rising in his chest and is about to tell her to forget it, but then he studies her face and he sees the playful smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Oh. She’s… messing with him.
He feels his own mouth quirk up at the sides.
Well two can play at that game.
Dipper clears his throat, straightens his back and assumes an air of hyperbolic chivalry.
“Very well, Miss Northwest. Would your highness deign to grace herself with my presence by allowing me to step aboard thine’s most glorious seafaring vessel?” He finishes with an exaggerated twirl of his hand.
Pacifica giggles and holds out her hand to him palm up. “She will. Dork.”
He grips her welcoming hand and allows her to help him come aboard, taking a second to find his footing on the gently bobbing boat before releasing it.
“Pretty nice, uh, schooner you got here.” He says, hands on his hips, looking around.
Schooner? Is that even right? Why is he trying to impress her with big boat words? He doesn’t know a darn thing about boats.
Pacifica quirks an eyebrow but lets it go. “Yeah, it’s fun,” she says wistfully. “But I’m pretty sure it’s going up for sale next week along with the manor.”
“Oh,” Dipper says rubbing his neck. “Do you know where you’re moving yet?”
He feels just the slightest confusing feeling of guilt tugging deep in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t feel bad about Preston and Priscilla getting found out for their years of crookedness, but Pacifica didn’t really have anything to do with that.
“Another mansion here in town. It’s way smaller though. Only one swimming pool,” Pacifica says, her face falling briefly, but she shakes it off.
Dipper chokes back a snort, all feelings of guilt instantly evaporating.
“You want a soda? I can show you around,” Pacifica asks, though the way she confidently strides back toward the interior leaves him with the impression that’s it’s not really a question as much as it is a command to follow.
He trails after her, following into the inner cabin of the boat. They enter a spacious galley. The walls are lined in deep teak wood and a massive crystal chandelier hangs in the center of the room. Dipper thinks this seems pretty impractical for a boat, but then again little about the Northwests has ever been practical.
A steward brings a silver tray with an assortment of sodas and juices. Dipper picks a Pitt Cola from the offering and then continues following Pacifica deeper below deck.
“So, uh, what’s the occasion?” he asks, following her down a narrow staircase and down a hallway lined with staterooms. “You just showing off the last of your family’s spoils before it goes to the auction block?”
Pacifica rolls her eyes as she stops at a door near the end of the hall.
“No. Well, not just that.” She opens the door, which leads to a small storage room. She doesn’t turn on the lights, but he can make out that the cabin is filled with boxes and chests from the warm light coming in from two small portholes. “This is the main reason.” She grips a large trunk in the corner with both hands and tugs it out from the shadows. The same “N.W.” monogram is etched onto the lid, the faint light catching the gold script.
As she tugs, Dipper feels the cabin shift around him unnaturally. He realizes the boat is pulling away from the dock. He braces himself against a wall with one arm, but Pacifica isn’t as quick on her feet and she stumbles forward. Dipper reaches forward with his free arm and grasps her around the middle. Her hair ends up in his face.
Lavender, again.
“I gotcha,” he says.
Pacifica grasps onto his arm as she steadies herself, then meets his eyes for the briefest of moments before turning away from him abruptly.
She coughs. “Thanks.”
Dipper feels his face flush. Not going to think too hard about that.
Pacifica turns back to the trunk, kneeling down and fiddling with the lock.
“My family has had these tapestries for as long as I can remember. I’m not sure where they came from, but I took the one in my bedroom down the night after the party. I didn’t know why at the time, but after the last few days things started to come together… so I took the rest down too and stashed them down here.” She looks over her shoulder at him. “Mom and Dad don’t know.”
Dipper feels a burst of pride swell in his heart at her small rebellion, whatever this is.
He leans over her shoulder as she lifts the lid to the trunk, but freezes when he sees what’s within.
He sees the eye first. That piercing, maniacal eye. Then the shape and color. And its enough to send him gasping backward, air completely leaving his lungs.
“Dipper?” Pacifica asks, spinning around toward him.
Dipper’s heart feels like it’s stopped. Where’s the wall? He needs to grab on to something. His arm waves behind him until it finds purchase on the side of the cabin.
“Dipper!” Pacifica continues. “Shoot! I’m sorry, I should have warned you.” She slams the lid shut and turns to grasp Dipper’s shoulders. “Hey, hey look at me.”
Dipper reluctantly meets her eyes, but he’s glad he does. Her blue meets his brown and he sees her concern and immediately feels calmer. In the recesses of his mind, fleetingly, he had feared that this was all some sort of trap, but when he sees her sincerity he knows she’s still on his side.
“You’re okay. I’m here. Crap, I’m so sorry,” she goes on, lowering her eyes but still gripping his shoulders.
Dipper feels the oxygen returning to his lungs and his head clearing.
“No, no it’s okay. I’m okay. It was an accident,” he says, taking a deep breath.
Pacifica looks back up at him, lip quivering. She releases his shoulders.
“Hey,” he chucks her under the chin lightly. “All good. Nothing wounded but my pride.”
She gives him a wary smile.
He returns it, feeling relief as he watches her features slowly relax. She really is pretty, huh?
Shit.
No.
No, no, no we are not doing that right now, brain.
He clears his throat.
“So… uh, why exactly are you showing me this?” he finally asks, breaking their eye contact and gesturing to the trunk.
“Oh! Right.” Pacifica tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as she straightens up, putting her hands on her hips. “I want you to help me get rid of it.”
Dipper’s mind races through memories of spells and incantations he read in Ford’s journals. Was there one for expelling physical objects from reality? Could they summon a self-contained fire that wouldn’t compromise the boat? Maybe if they contacted the ghost of Archibald Corduroy he would be able to bring the tapestries to the… ghost realm? If that’s a thing?
Pacifica looks at him curiously. “Uh, hello? What’s going on in there?” she asks, tapping his forehead with her pointer finger.
He continues studying the trunk. “Just trying to think of the best way…”
Pacifica raises an eyebrow. “Come on, Pines. Lake Gravity Falls is 742 feet deep at its center. Where do you think we’re going?” She gestures around her to the moving yacht.
Oh.
Right. Well that could work too.
With some effort and griping the two manage to bring the trunk up the stairs (“Pivot! You have to pivot!” Pacifica had sniped more than once) and on the main deck of the boat.
Together they lift the heavy chest to the railing at the stern, letting it balance delicately just shy from tipping over. They each hold one handle.
“Any final words?” Dipper asks, turning to face her.
“Good riddance.” Pacifica says, still staring at the trunk, eyes focused on the “N.W.” monogram. She turns to him. “Let’s do this.”
Damn, she’s fierce. He gives her a half smile and nods.
They each let go of their respective handles and give the trunk a firm push. It goes tumbling overboard, falling the dozen or so feet it takes to reach the water before hitting it with a satisfying splash.
Dipper and Pacifica stand side by side, watching it sink below the surface slowly, murky darkness slowly obscuring it from view. Then it’s gone.
Pacifica turns and leans her back against the railing, letting out a long exhale. “Wow, it’s crazy how much better I feel.”
Dipper smiles at her. Her features do look more relaxed. Like a heavy burden— or curse, maybe—has been lifted.
He nudges her side with his elbow. “So this tub is going away in a few days right? What do you say we enjoy it a bit before it’s gone?”
Pacifica turns to face him and grins.
---
A couple hours, an impromptu water gun fight, and a few unceremonious pushes into the lake later, Dipper and Pacifica lay next to one another on their stomaches at the bow of the boat, each wrapped in a fluffy towel. Together they watch the sun drop below the tree-lined horizon. Orange and pink gives way slowly to purple and blue. Dipper lets his eyes drift from the hazy sky to the gentle waves created by the yacht cutting through the lake surface, and finally to his new friend. Her eyes have shut and her head is cushioned on her arms. The soft light of the dusk plays on her delicate features, and he takes a moment to watch the steady inhale and exhale of her breathing. He feels himself smile, and decides to let himself indulge in the warm feeling that comes with it. Just for now. Even if he still isn’t sure what it means.
After a moment her eyes flutter open and her cheeks dust with pink. “Guess I dozed off a bit?” she asks, scrunching up her nose.
“Yeah, but it’s okay. It’s been a big day.”
She yawns and looks at the horizon.
“So I guess you’re going back home to California soon, huh? After your party?”
“Yeah… but is it weird that to say that Piedmont doesn’t really feel like home anymore?”
“No.” She turns to him. “I think ‘home’ can kind of change. I never used to feel like Gravity Falls was where I belonged, honestly.”
“Really? Do you still feel that way?”
“I’m not sure… I feel at home right now though, I think.” Her cheeks grow rosier.
Dipper smiles, feeling his own cheeks warming once again as well.
“What are you gonna do? After?” he asks, not really knowing precisely how to articulate what he means, but trusting she will understand.
“I don’t know,” she laughs. “Back to school, I guess. Maybe I can convince my parents to let me start boarding. I’m just a day student right now, but there are a bunch of kids who live too far to go home at night. I wouldn’t mind staying away from my parents for awhile.” Dipper isn’t sure he completely understands how private schooling works, but before he can ask she keeps talking. “Mom and Dad—they, uh… fight a lot, you know? And I kind of think it’s just going to get worse now that we’re only really rich and not insanely rich.” She drops her chin to her rest on her right forearm, lets her left arm dangle over the side of the boat.
Dipper flashes back to four months earlier, hearing his own mom and dad say the most horrible things to one another late at night in their kitchen, long after he and Mabel were supposed to have gone to bed.
“Yeah,” he starts, slowly. “That’s… rough. I get that.”
She tilts her head to him, eyes wide. “You do?”
“Yeah...” He lets his own head fall forward, cushioned by his laced fingers. “I’m not really sure what I’m going to be walking into when we get back, either. Family-wise, I mean.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Honestly, not really. It’s too pretty and peaceful here right now.” He meets her eyes.
“Another time then,” she says, like it’s not even a question.
He feels a smile tug at his lips. On a lot of people, such declaration would come off as presumptuous, rude even. But Pacifica’s so naturally confident and matter-of-fact that it’s just… endearing. Honest.
And he knows it’s true, too.
“Yeah, another time.”
The yacht’s crew eventually brings the boat back to the marina just as the stars are beginning to make their first appearances in the evening sky. Her driver gives him a ride home, and clambering out of back of the town car, Dipper notices Mabel peeking through the Shack’s curtains. He rolls his eyes and turns back to where Pacifica still sits in the back of the car.
“So you’re coming to our birthday tomorrow, right?” he asks.
“Duh, I am the Party Queen after all.” She winks and his stomach does a funny little flip. “It would be cruel to deprive you of my presence on your birthday.”
He laughs and shakes his head, sends her a final wave and smile over his shoulder as he makes his way back to what will almost certainly be an interrogation of epic proportions from his sister.
But, yeah, maybe Mabel is right. Maybe it is time to get his own phone.
188 notes · View notes
stuffeddeer · 1 year
Text
Dazai is antsy. For those who've seen him regularly the past month, this isn't a new sight: him pulling at the edges of his bandages, shifting continuously in his seat, eyes flittering back and forth... It happens daily at this point.
Until you show up, when he jumps into your arms, drapes himself over your back, leans into your side, anything he can do to be as physically close to you as possible. His clinginess has started to affect your work, unable to do much as Dazai pulls you onto his lap during the day or sits on yours, head pushed into your shoulder. At least lunches are fine as he pulls you onto the Agency's couch and holds you from behind: you can still access your packed food (which Dazai always steals bites of).
Holding your hand isn't enough, either. Dazai needs to be on top of you or have you on top of him, or he's antsy — which leads us to now. He's shifting uncomfortably in the passenger seat of your car, the edges of his bandages unraveling as he picks at them. A small look of panic crosses his face as he finally notices, discretely trying to pull them more tightly in hopes of bringing them back to how they were before.
He glances over at you. Your eyes were focused on the road, one hand holding the steering wheel and the other resting on your lap. The hand was taunting Dazai, practically begging him to grab it... so he did. You glance at the intertwined hands briefly before smiling at him, focusing back on the road right after.
...
It wasn't helping. You're right there and he can't hold you? So close he can smell you but can't have you in his embrace?! This must be his own hell, fashioned by Satan himself to torture Dazai for all eternity (or for the next ten minutes before you reach your destination).
"You alright, Dazai?"
He huffs at your question; Of course not. The childish pout on his face makes you let out a breathy laugh. He turns to you with such adoration - what an adorable sound that he coaxed out of you... Ugh, it just makes him want to hold you more.
You squeeze his hand reassuringly, the feeling causing Dazai to relax momentarily... Until once again he's thinking about the warmth of your hand, and how much warmer it'd be to hold you.
"How much longer?" He whines, the same pout on his lips.
"GPS says seven minutes. Are you that excited for this case?" An amused smirk plays on your lips, the teasing tone making Dazai's heart flutter.
He shifts in his seat, the hand not holding yours fidgeting with the fabric of his vest. "Excited for it to be over," he replies, trying to keep his gaze out the window and not on you.
"Seven minutes, and then you can solve it."
Seven minutes. Seven long, excruciating minutes in hell before he can touch you again, hold you again. Seven minutes, 420 seconds, a few red lights and then a shoddy parking job. Seven minutes... seven...
You let out a yelp, eyes widening as you swerve slightly on the road. "Dazai!" You chastise, both hands moving to tightly grip the steering wheel.
His face is pressed up against your neck, hands grabbing you tightly as he leans over the car's center console to be closer. A stupid grin sits on his lips as he giggles, feeling heady from your warmth. Mmm, this is what he was missing...
"Dazai, I'm driving!" you say, as though the man would understand and move off of you. Instead, he lets out a low whine and hugs you tighter, entirely off of his seat and pressing up against you.
"I'm not stopping you." Your gaze shifts over towards him. "Eyes on the road." You huff, but do as he says. His eyes were closed, how could he see you looking at him?
"You can't do this, Dazai."
"It's like you said: it's only seven minutes," Dazai grinned smugly. Part of him wanted to ask why you didn't like him holding you so closely, but he knew you didn't mind. Should he be clinging to you while you're driving? Probably not, but then maybe you shouldn't be so warm and inviting.
You say nothing else, now focused entirely on the road with a tight grip on the steering wheel. Dazai says nothing either: after all, he got what he wanted.
863 notes · View notes
wonwoosstuff · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
Mr. Muscle | Seungcheol x fem.reader
Synopsis: Your boyfriend loves flaunting his strength at every chance. You, on the other hand, consider yourself quite skilled at pretending not to be bothered—or at least you used to think so. Now, you find yourself in a playful tug-of-war between resisting and succumbing to the undeniable charm of his displays of strength.
Genre: fluff, pet names, sexual tension, pet names, praising, reader is thirsty over her man, reader is shorter than him, gf-bf- dynamic, protective Cheol, established relationship
A/N: Not proofread!
————————————————————————
You strolled through the park with your boyfriend Seungcheol, the sun casting a warm glow on their surroundings. Seungcheol, unable to resist the temptation, spotted a pull-up bar and flexed his muscles.
"Watch this, darling!" He effortlessly pulled himself up, showcasing his strength. Maintaining an air of nonchalance, you raised an eyebrow. "Impressive, but can you do it with one hand?"
Seungcheol, always up for a challenge, accepted with a smirk. "Of course."
You couldn't help but crack a smile. This made Seungcheol so much more attractive. You didn’t like when men bragged too much about their strength but he was definitely an exception.
"Okay, fine, you win this one."
Seungcheol grinned, basking in his victory.
——————————————————————
“Home sweet home”, Seungcheol exclaimed after entering your apartment. “Well that was a nice stroll.” You said and smiled at him.
Your boyfriend hummed in agreement and joined you in the kitchen. He hugged you from behind kissing your nape: “What’re you doing?”
“I need to prepare dinner, baby. It’s 7:30.” You answered.
“Oh well… uh” Seungcheol stopped for a moment. “What is it, Cheollie?”
“Me and the boys wanted go to the gym together and exercise a bit…”
“And?”
“There’s no and. That’s it”
“I mean why is it bothering you?”
“Baby, I wanted to help you out with cooking dinner.” Seungcheol looked at you worriedly. His eyes turning into big puppy like pupils.
You could eat him right now and then. “Cheol, you are the cutest, do you know that?” While turning around you pinched both of his cheeks and pecked his lips right after.
“You can go! It’s fine. I’ll be okay.” You assured him.
“Hm, okay. Call me when you need something.”
Oh, how sweet of him, you thought. However you were sure that there wasn’t anything you would have to deal with. Or was there?
Of course there had to be something you had to deal with.
A jar of pickles didn’t want to open. You’ve been trying to open it for the past half hour. Knives, Spoons, Forks, Spatulas- no material existing in your apartment worked on the stubborn lid.
Now you had no other choice but to wait for your boyfriend to come back home.
“Ugh, maybe I should hit the gym as well.”
“What?” you were greeted with a familiar sounding chuckle. Seungcheol was back home and he was sweating.
Sweaty Seungcheol was your biggest weakness. You couldn’t help but continue to thirst over the man mentally. The thought of him punishing you with his sweaty black hair, veiny arms and thick biceps made your folds clench.
“Earth to y/n? Are you there? Hello?” You were brought back to reality.
“Oh, uh yeah I’m back. I mean uh-“ you were interrupted by your boyfriend’s laugh. He kissed your temple followed by a hug: “Why are you so cute today? By the way the food smells so good. I could smell it from the first floor.” You grinned proudly. “Must be my cooking skills. Oh and Cheol, you’re sweaty. Please stop hugging me.”
Seungcheol pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, a wry smirk gracing his lips. He knew exactly what you were thinking about two minutes ago.
One thing you unequivocally despised was your boyfriend's uncanny ability to effortlessly decipher your thoughts. While such insight could prove beneficial, this time, it made you feel uneasy.
“Why are you smirking?”
“Since my princess wants me to take a shower I will gladly do so.” Great, he avoided your question.
Seungcheol disappeared in the bathroom and came back ten minutes later. He was watching you struggling to open a jar of pickles which made him chuckle and reflect on the “I should hit the gym as well” sentence that you brought up.
“Let me open that jar for you,” he said approaching you. Seungcheol took the jar out of your hands and gave it a try.
Without much effort he opened the lid that frustrated you one hour ago.
"Strength comes in handy, doesn't it?"
Determined not to be swayed you rolled your eyes. “Anyone could’ve opened that jar.”
“Clearly” he answered sarcastically.
Seungcheol, undeterred, decided to take a more subtle approach. As you walked away, he subtly draped an arm around your waist, showcasing a different kind of strength—gentleness.
You were caught off guard and a blushing mess. Hiding in his chest you said: “You know, you don’t always have to show off your strength.”
Seungcheol, with a soft smile, replied, "I just want to be your strong support, even if it means flexing a bit.”
“Fine, Mr. Muscle. Just promise not to crush me with your strength.”
Seungcheol chuckled, wrapping you in a reassuring hug.
"Deal. I'll save the strength for opening stubborn jars and protecting your heart."
————————————————————————
This man has my heart ❤️ I want to write a smut version of this. Should I?
579 notes · View notes
all-purpose-dish-soap · 2 months
Note
Do you still do pickup lines? If so “Call me bunny cuz I wanna bounce on your lap” to Gaz or Price? Perchance
hell yeah i always love the little quote prompts/starters!! they make great warm-ups and fodder for the daily wordcount. send them, character/situation/au specified or not. pick-up lines are always super fun <3
44 / 1.1k
...
"Call me bunny, cause I wanna bounce on your lap."
Gaz smirks. "And why do you want to hop into my lap, bunny?”
"Cause you look like a good time."
“And you look like you’d be trouble.”
“You don’t think you can handle it?”
“Easy, now,” he drawls, letting his gaze rake over you shamelessly. “I never said that. A little trouble keeps things interesting."
You step closer, nudging his knees apart so you can stand between him, looking down at him on his bar stool. He automatically spreads his thighs like it’s the most natural thing in the world to make room for you there. And he keeps eye contact with you as he runs a hand up your leg, ghosting past the hem of your skirt and brushing the underside of your ass so lightly he could claim it was a mistake if you called him on it.
When you don’t, he hums in surprise. “You don’t seem like trouble to me.”
You sense his overconfidence and smile. Men like him—they’re easy. "That's what everyone thinks. Do you plan to feel me up in this bar all night or are you gonna take me home?”
"I'd love to, but I'm here with a buddy. I drove."
"So leave him here."
Huh. It's one thing to banter and tease, but he's not accustomed to that brand of… command. Especially not by some bossy little bunny who sauntered over to claim his lap. Or so you say. "Just ditch my mate and go off with you? That'd be a bit cold."
You lean closer, resting your hand on his chest. When you feel how firm he is, you can't help but squeeze. He must be a soldier at the base nearby. Jackpot. You know how to talk to those types. "It's decisive," you breathe out, your mouth hovering just shy of his. "Shows initiative."
He flexes his pectoral with a lopsided grin. He can play this game too. "Let me guess. You like a man who takes charge?"
You open your mouth to tell him yes, you do, and you don't appreciate being made to wait. Before you can say that, though, his hand catches the back of your thigh and he pulls you right into his lap.
“Hey—!”
He situates your legs perpendicular to his until you get the hint and settle in, leaning against his shoulder.
"Like this?" He gives your thigh a good squeeze—teasing you. Getting under your skin because he’s already starting to feel like you might be fun when you're not getting your way about it.
You huff, cross your legs, and pull the hem of your skirt down as it rides up. "Not what I had in mind, actually, no."
He keeps his hand on your thigh and rubs your soft skin with his calloused fingertips even as you pull your skirt down over them. “Yeah? Then what did you have in mind, bunny?”
"I told you."
"You said you wanted in my lap, and here you are."
Ugh. Whatever. "Fine, be obtuse." You grab his drink and take a swig of it just to spite him.
His grip on you tightens a bit at the casual gesture. He assumes it’s meant to tease him. There’s a glint in his eyes as he watches you dab at the corner of your mouth with his bar napkin like he’s mentally calculating what it will cost you later.
He can’t deny how he’s more interested in you than before. You're rude and it's kinda hot. He wonders what it’d take to make you soft and pliant rather than stubborn and cutting. On the other hand, something about your haughtiness makes him want to press you up against the wall right now and see if he can make you snap at him again.
He signals for the bartender to bring another drink for both of you. Then he leans in, letting his lips brush the back of your ear. "I think you're just impatient to get me into bed."
You glance down to watch his hand edge up your thigh. The buzz of the alcohol in your system isn't much, but it does intensify the heat between your legs at the sight. "I already told you that. You're the one not getting with the program."
"I am,” he counters in a murmur, “but I’m not just going to leave my mate here all alone.” When you look away, he shamelessly lets his hand slide further up. He rubs his thumb up and down, then lets his fingers dig in a bit and give it a good squeeze, just to make you squirm a bit. “Can’t you wait a little while?”
The bartender slides your drinks over. Your eyes light up with interest. "Maybe. If you keep buying me drinks."
“Yeah?” He grabs your drink and takes a sip, just so you’ll have to reach for it when you want it. Work a little harder. If you want to tease him, he’ll tease you back. “And what happens if I don’t? You gonna hop on out of my lap?"
You want to call his bluff so bad. But he's smirking. He has that dimple on one side. And goddamn, if he isn't the hottest guy you've seen here in ages. What's a guy like him even doing in a place like this?
You wipe the expression off your face and ignore how he's holding your drink. "Maybe. Maybe not."
He sees it, though. That squared, petulant set of your shoulders that makes him think you would absolutely leave him here if he pissed you off enough. And he can see why you might be worth the trouble he’d get in if he left his mate here just to take you home. If you got up and walked out the door right now, who knows. Maybe he'd be helpless to resist following you.
But he smiles and plays it cool. They always love a smile. "Be nice to me and I'll buy you the whole bottle, yeah?"
"We'll see."
"Yeah, we will." He pulls you tighter against him and his hand drifts up a bit further under your skirt, high enough to let you know he’s getting bolder. “You know, I never got your name, by the way."
You take the opportunity to steal your drink back from him. "So?"
"So now’s your chance to give it to me."
"Mm, no."
"Come on. That's no fun."
"Too bad. I'll still have plenty of fun."
"You're a rude little thing, aren’t you." He gives your thigh another squeeze. Things will get rougher if you keep being difficult. "Got a mouth on you."
You laugh to yourself as you bring your cocktail to your lips. "You'll see, won't you?"
“Yeah," he mutters, watching you wrap your lips around the straw of your drink and take a sip.
...
follow-up smut/part 2 here <3
more Gaz / masterlist
295 notes · View notes