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shankschewtoy · 2 years

Note

This is my 3rd request so far and my apologies but you're not getting rid of me anytime soon 💀

So can I get some Sabo , Shanks and Kid hcs (ik the Kid requests are getting quite a lot but I'm just another simp 😅😅) finding a drawing of themselves in their artist s/o's room that they have drawn secretly (*¯ ³¯*)♡ also if they would tell their s/o that they found it and make some *stupid* comment abt it

Gosh this turned out longer than I expected, I hope it's not too complicated (*ﾉωﾉ)

Anyways feel free to ignore this if you don't like it, love ya <3

a/n - hi error!! I’m so so sorry this took so long- I feel bad- 😭 omg Sabo with an artist s/o is so perfect 🥺✨ ily too error ty for requesting again- I love seeing your requests!!! 💜💜💜

Warnings ⚠️ - I bully kid so- 💀, g/n reader

Kid

- kid isn’t really- artsy

- He doesn’t understand most of it, but he lets you do your thing, and you let him do his

- He had to grab something from the basement which is where you usually painted, you were gone at this time of day, most likely out and about, exploring around

- He grabbed the metallic object from the floor, lifting it over his shoulder before running into something from behind

- He growled, “The fuck??” He asked, looking at what his ass just ran into

- His eyes widened, it was obviously one of your paintings, but it was the subject of said painting which surprised him

- Was that- him??

- he grinned, laughing silently

- The picture captured quite a good angle of Kid, and he became more proud of it, maybe that should be his new wanted poster photo!

- He started to walk up the stairs, seeing you coming back onto the ship with Killer carrying some ingredients for pasta later

- “I’ll set it down in the kitchen.” Killer mentioned before walking off, leaving Kid and you alone

- Kid smirked, looking straight at you with the biggest shit eating grin

- “…?” -you

- “That painting down there? Good job, made me look good.” He said with a laugh, kissing your cheek before starting to walk back towards what he was working on before

- At first, you were embarrassed- he saw the painting?!

- But then, you looked at an odd splatter of color on Kid’s pants, specifically his ass

- Why was it- stained with the same paint you used as the background of the painting-? (We don’t talk abt how you remember the specific shade of red)

- oh kid you dumbass 💀

- You stifled a laugh, struggling to not burst out laughing

- “K-kid.. Did you run into that painting of you-?” You asked, desperately begging yourself to not start cackling right then and there

- He looked confused, “Yeah? Why-“

- You looked away, but your face said it all, the absolute effort in your facial muscles to try not to laugh

- “Your ass- it’s- oh god-“

- Nope you couldn’t take it, you died on the floor, wheezing, banging the floor like an asthmatic trying to breathe

- Kid looked behind him, trying to look at his ass, but unfortunately, the man wasn’t that flexible

- (his tiddies are too big so they’re in the way 💀)

- “Y/N SHUT UP I’M GOING TO THROW YOU INTO THE OCEAN-“

- “Make sure you- wash those pants-!” You said in between cackles, clutching your chest and wiping the tears from your eyes from how hard you were laughing

- The paint perfectly stained Kid’s pants to look like he shit his pants but in red-

- (wow I’m such a 90s bully. 🗿)

- “FUCKIN-“ Kid yelled angrily, continuously trying to turn around to see what exactly you were laughing at

- It was like a dog chasing it’s tail, and god it was funny to you 💀

- You only felt bad that Killer wasn’t here to witness this masterpiece

Sabo

- unlike kid, this man has the decency and brains to appreciate art!

- He loves seeing the projects your working on, they really bring him joy to see

- Seeing you so focused on making sure each proportion, color, and subject of the painting was just to your liking made him feel oddly happy

- He wanted to ask you something, he was headed towards your studio workplace to ask you if you wanted to go and see the town with him since it was a newer place

- He knocked and opened the door only to find that your studio was lacking the one who made the art

- You were gone?? Maybe with koala…

- He looked around at your paintings with a smile, lifting his hat up to get a better view of them

- He saw the empty cups of water that fueled your endless days of painting- so he decided to try and clean some of it up for you

- Just so you didn’t feel overwhelmed with the clutter of dishes and trash

- He then laid eyes on a painting of him, he’d never seen you paint him before, so this was quite a surprise!

- He looked amazed, it was a very- flattering angle??

- You had painted Sabo during a battle, using his devilfruit, so he was surrounded by beautifully colored flames

- He blushed, was this how you saw him?

- He dropped the dishes in his hand, he was too flattered-

- You walked through the door with a yawn, you had just finished talking with Koala about some future plans

- “Oh hey Sabo- wait wh- WHOA WHOA WHOA NO NO NO THAT’S NOT FOR YOU TO SEE- oh shit.” You sighed, realizing that you had blown your cover

- He snapped out of it, staring at the broken dishes at his feet, he then tripped over the pieces in order to go towards you

- You were so embarrassed- this wasn’t supposed to be for Sabo to see-!

- He looked flustered, “Y/n- do I really look that cool??”

- You looked surprised, but then you laughed, how could Sabo be so cute??

- “Yes Sabo, you’re that cool. And cute.” You said, pinching his cheeks as he grumbled, putting his hands on your cheeks as well

- This man loves you so much, and to see you paint such a fucking awesome looking piece of him made his heart give in even more to you

- “Love you Sabo. But seriously don’t come in here without me saying so- just so- this doesn’t happen again.”

- “Wait you paint more of me?! Can I see?!”

- “NO-“

Shanks

- This red haired drunk isn’t the most artsy person ever, but that doesn’t mean he can’t understand and appreciate it!

- Sometimes, he’ll sit in the room and just watch you paint, it’s really calming for him

- “Shanks- please stop staring at me- it’s been 3 hours..”

- “But baby, you’re just so gorgeous-“

- “Go help Benn with something-!”

- You needed space

- your creative mind can’t work when someone’s literally just staring at you with a gaze like his

- “Noooooo- please-??”

- “…”

- “🥺” -shanks

- “… Fine. Baby.”

- Shanks loves you lmao

- when you were gone for the day, out somewhere with Benn, Shanks was holding a bottle of alcohol as usual as he walked around the ship

- He was looking for the newspaper he was reading before, but he stumbled into your studio instead

- when he found the newspaper, he might’ve “accidentally” found a painting of him

- when I say accidentally, we all know he was looking for it in the first place 🙃

- Shanks stared at the painting of him, you seemed to have drawn him with his crew, standing tall and proud, over looking the ocean full of sea kings before them

- He looked somewhat like- a king!

- shanks grinned, so maybe you did think he wasn’t just a drunk pirate…

- Shanks made it his personal goal to find you and ask you the most embarrassing questions about this

- bec he’s a fucking tease 💀

- You could tell just by the shit eating grin across his face, that he was going to say something that wasn’t going to make you feel happy

- “Hey baby.. So I saw something in your studio when I was looking for something, aaaaand, I found a painting of me. You did that right?”

- You stopped in your tracks, shit, did he see that painting??

- You tried switching the subject, saying you had to go down and do something, but your boyfriend was quick to stop you, setting you down on his lap

- His arm wrapped tightly around your torso, you definitely couldn’t escape from Shanks’ grip now

- He leaned close to your ear, his red locks tickling the side of your face

- “C’mon, tell me about it.” He said with a smirk as you finally gave in

- “Hmmm- so maybe I’m not just a red haired drunk pirate to you?” He asked with a smile, leaving you struggling with the reddest cheeks ever

- “Shanks.. You said you were- ‘looking’ for something right? You knew I was painting it all along huh..?”

- he laughed, “Maybe.”

- “You’re so- Ugh.” You grumbled, crossing your arms as he kissed your cheek repeatedly, trailing his hand up and down your torso

- “Love you too y/n.”

a/n - god this took too long- I’m so sorry error! I hope you like it :)

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece hcs #anime hcs #eustass kid #kid x y/n #kid x reader #kid one piece #shanks #shanks x reader #shanks x y/n #shanks one piece #sabo x y/n #sabo headcanons #sabo x reader #sabo one piece #sabo the revolutionary #red haired shanks

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bimrsadler · 1 year

Note

could you do an f!reader who is wealthy and actually decides to become patron to the gang, letting them stay at their manor on the outskirts of Saint Denis? she asks for a personal guard in turn, which she asks High Honor Arthur to fill the role of. She's tiny, petite even (like 4'9"-ish) and very femme but with a sharp, elegant tongue.

she likes to hang out with Arthur and show him the wealthy side of life while he shows her the lifestyle of being out in the country. All the tensions and staring of a rich, unmarried lady out with a rugged outlaw of man? Perfect bait. 👀

Fluffy or NSFW or just sexual tension is okay! Feel free to go all kinds of ways with this if you do take the rq, ty!! Love your work!!

Fortune Favors the Bold

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female reader

Word count: 4,600

Warnings/tags: nsft, use of guns/light violence, high honor Arthur, fluff, mutual pining, unprotected piv, dirty talk, size difference, use of pet names

Notes: you gave me a lot to work with anon so I decided to just have fun and make this a longer one, sorry it took a bit but I hope it’s what you were looking for!

Walking around Saint Denis it was hard not to feel eyes on you wherever you went, you were an odd couple after all.

Couple. It wasn’t a word you ever thought you’d use to describe you and Arthur Morgan. Truthfully you weren’t an actual couple; not in the literal sense anyway, but you did enjoy a partnership of sorts and it felt comfortable enough to call him your friend.

As you explored the streets together your differences could not be any clearer, the sun glinted off the gold around your neck while the only gleam on Arthur was off the cold steel of his revolver.

An air of grace and elegance followed you wherever you went, wealth represented in your high end dresses.

The man at your side the complete opposite.

An air of intimidation and ruggedness followed Arthur, worn clothing indicative of his rough lifestyle.

And of everything about him you found yourself inexplicably drawn to, it was the fact that he towered over you that was most alluring.

Being of high status and short stature — you were an easy target. Meeting the Van der Linde gang for the first time was nerve wracking to say the least, knowing that if they wanted to harm you they could in no time.

But the man who introduced himself as Arthur Callahan with the badge on his vest was clearly not a real deputy, and knowing of the Grays and Braithwaites; you weren’t particularly upset at their scheming.

Before Arthur and Dutch could warn you not to tell anyone — you proposed working together instead.

While they were no doubt dangerous criminals, they were more understanding than you expected and most of the gang fun to be around. Leery of you at first, they knew it was advantageous to have someone of your status on their side, and found there was more to you than how you presented on the outside.

While your family was away, you offered the manor as a safe-house for the gang and they gave you Arthur in return. It would take a lot of bold stupidity to make an attempt on you when a man like him was by your side.

It wasn’t unusual to get curious men asking what a woman like you was doing with a man like Arthur, to which you would warn them to mind their own business. And if they were more brash than curious? Well it didn’t take long for them to learn their mistake when Arthur came over.

Not everyone looked at Arthur like he didn’t belong though. Outlaw or not, he was arrestingly attractive; pulling in wandering eyes from the upper and lower class alike.

People always seemed pleasantly surprised at how well mannered he was as well, greeting passerby’s with a hat tip and a “ma’am,” listening to strangers stories and stopping to pet street dogs. Really since you’d met — he was primarily only a threat to those who were a threat to you.

The two of you grew curious about each other, with your lifestyles and upbringings being so different. Everything about the gang was exciting to you and you cautiously wanted to explore it. Arthur had a harder time admitting he was interested in what your side of life had to offer and felt uncomfortable with how foreign it felt.

But you caught him eyeing the beautiful things in your home, letting his fingertips glide along the piano keys, smirking at the expensive weapons mounted and fine whiskies.

It was the art that he took a particular interest in however. He was shy about it at first, gazing at the framed paintings on the walls wanting to know more about them but too nervous to inquire.

So you would stand beside him and tell him the history of it, of the artist, as he stood scratching his beard intently listening.

“Hmm,” he’d mumble dryly — trying to downplay his curiosity but giving himself away by quickly pointing to the one beside it, “and how ’bout this one?”

Arthur never felt fully comfortable in fancier settings but you loved bringing him to dinners and plays with you. When he lost himself in the dishes and dramas meant for the higher class, he fully enjoyed himself.

You never felt at ease in those situations either though, always needing to show a performative smile and appear proper was exhausting. So after the parties you would surprise Arthur by asking him to take you to a saloon or maybe just a stroll in the woods, and he was more than happy to oblige.

Arthur was hesitant when you asked to take trips with him however; worried you didn’t understand what you were getting into.

“No offense Miss but I don’t think ya know what yer askin’.”

“I may be rich but I’m not dumb — Mister.” You said with a sarcastic hiss. “I’d like to learn.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and agreed reluctantly, clearly assuming you would just be deadweight.

But you were a quick learner, and you enjoyed it.

It was exhilarating learning to shoot and skin, and much to Arthur’s surprise you had no qualms about looting with him or being the lookout on a job.

Your favorite nights however were the ones under the stars and beside the crackling fire. You would take the sounds of the slow moving river and rustling pines over the ramblings of relatives whose only talking points were property prices and fine China, any day.

A truth you were anxiously coming to terms with was the fact that you also loved all of this because of Arthur. You could spend hours listening to the husky timbre of his voice excitedly tell you the stories that only a Hell-raising outlaw could.

And yet he was just as enrapturing while sketching quietly or baby-talking his horse as he brushed and fed it.

This evening in Saint Denis was the culmination of all of those nights of curiosity and company.

You had woken up early that morning, Arthur journaling on the couch as you approached him.

“I have an idea cowboy.”

He closed his journal and raised an eyebrow.

“You guys still need money right? Well you and I could make a killing in Saint Denis…”

Arthur sighed and closed his journal, “meanin’?”

“Without you on my arm I’m an easy target in the wrong part of town. You could hang back and I could just draw them out,” you raised your eyebrows excitedly.

Arthur stood up waving his arms in the air, “absolutely not. You crazy woman?!”

“First of all, we would make a good team. Second, do not call me ‘woman’.”

Arthur seemed to take your scolding to heart, shoulders slumping slightly. “Sorry…”

Walking over to you with a softer tone he continued, “just wouldn’t forgive myself if somethin’ happened to ya. I know yer capable but…these things can be unpredictable.”

“Maybe so, but I trust you. Now c’mon Arthur, live a little,” you teased with a wink.

That was all it took, though he continued complaining about going against his better judgment.

Dolling yourself up in your finest that evening, you stood in front of the mirror — scared and excited.

Arthur came in slowly after a delicate knock. In the reflection you caught him pausing at the sight of you, eyes roaming and expression softening.

“You uh…ya ready?”

“Almost, I just…can’t get this necklace to clasp,” you laughed nervously.

“Oh uh…well lemme help then…”

Arthur’s boots were heavy on the floor but his approach was slow and considerate. Handing him the necklace, he draped it around your front, cold metal brushing against you.

The combination of his warm and broad chest hovering against your back with his calloused fingertips ghosting along the skin of your neck, brought forth goosebumps you hoped he wouldn’t notice.

Watching in the reflection, a slight tremble kept him from joining the two sides of the necklace. “Damn fingers are too big,” he chuckled bashfully.

“It’s okay,” you spoke quietly with a reassuring smile.

Finally it clasped together, the emerald jewel coming to a rest at the swell of your cleavage. Before Arthur stepped back, his knuckles lingered on the nape of your neck as he dragged a fingertip along the golden filigree.

“So…would you steal this from me Arthur?”

“Well, you’d definitely catch my attention,” he said warmly before stepping back.

Trying not to read into Arthur’s response, you absentmindedly adjusted in front of the mirror. “Haven’t worn this dress yet, wasn’t sure if I liked it…”

“Why? Y’look beautiful,” Arthur stated.

You felt a flutter spread in your chest and stomach while watching him fumble with his gunbelt in the mirror.

“I uh,” he cleared his throat and motioned toward the door, “we should get goin’.”

All eyes were on you as your large bodyguard walked protectively by your side. You meandered through the city waiting for nightfall, listening to the street performers and perusing the shop windows.

As the sun dipped below the horizon you and Arthur made your way behind the saloon.

“Now you catch someone’s eye ‘n bring ‘em out here,” Arthur pointed to the dark of the alleyway, “I’ll be right down there.”

Clasping your shoulder with his bear paw of a hand he implored, “please be careful.”

“Always am Mr. Morgan,” you winked with a confident smile though your heart was racing.

You watched as he concealed the lower half of his face with a black bandana, leaving only his eyes to be seen under the wide brim of his hat.

Only in the faint light of the streetlamp did you realize that Arthur’s eyes were the same shade as the jewel around your neck. Your heart was pounding for more reasons than one.

The night wore on with the usual bothering from drunk and foolish men — mostly harmless, buying you drinks (that you only pretended to sip) and asking why you were alone.

You fiddled with your necklace and purse, making sure to draw any attention from types you wouldn’t want noticing.

And it did. A dirty and angry looking man in the corner caught your eye. He wasn’t drunk and he had been watching you closely for most of the night.

As the music and clamoring picked up in pace and volume you headed toward the swinging doors in the back; sure enough he followed in your peripheral.

Each second as you made your way into the alley became more and more urgent, heart pounding and sweat dripping while you kept your hand close to your purse — should you need to use the knife Arthur gifted you.

The man closed in quickly, not touching you yet but attempting to intimidate with his presence. “Better stop right there girl…”

Turning around slowly you looked at your mark. He was big — but not as big as Arthur.

“Ain’t anyone teach you not to be alone in places like this?” He sneered with an air of superiority.

You watched Arthur’s bulky frame come into view from behind the shadows, “who says I’m alone?”

The gun in Arthur’s hand pressed to the man’s temple, “ain’t anyone ever teach you to be a gentleman?”

Arthur chuckled darkly, “now…I’m gonna hand that gun in yer holster to the fine lady,” he pressed the revolver harder into the man’s head, making him flinch. “— an’ if ya try anything I’ll blow yer goddamn head off.”

Arthur’s voice was deep and dark and almost made you feel bad for the man, but mostly it stirred something within you.

After the gun was given to you, Arthur began rummaging through the pockets to find money and trinkets.

You knew what the two of you were doing wasn’t right either and Arthur was a bad man, but he was good to you and there was goodness inside of him.

And at that moment? Electricity surged through every inch of your body with exhilaration and you had trouble finding sympathy for a man who would corner a woman by herself.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” The reality of the situation hit hard as a police officer stopped at the end of the alleyway — clearly seeing that it was Arthur robbing the man.

“Oh thank God you’re here officer!” You threw a shaking hand up to play the victim, “please help us!”

You felt terrible for the brief panic in Arthur’s darting eyes as he seemed unsure if you were betraying him.

It didn’t last though. Using your other hand you quickly pointed the gun you kept hidden from view and fired above the officers head.

Arthur understanding that it was a way to buy time, hit the man with the butt of his gun in an attempt to knock him out.

Swiftly grabbing your wrist he pulled you through the saloon, the drunk and confused patrons slowing down the cop in pursuit.

“The hell was that?!” Arthur demanded under his breath.

“Me trying to save our skins — you’re welcome!”

“I’ll thank ya if we make it outta here alive,” Arthur taunted as he found the closest horse to steal. He pulled you with no effort at all, your feet leaving the ground in the blink of an eye.

You wrapped an arm around Arthur’s tight core and pointed the gun behind you with the other, the galloping horse keeping you from a steady aim.

“Arthur where are we going?!”

“Jus’ hold on I’ll figure it out!”

Approaching a bridge you noticed that the view was partly obscured by willow trees, making it a good time as any to throw off the lawman.

Aiming to the best of your ability you shot behind you again, hoping to stall and not harm him. At that moment Arthur took a hard right into the grass and through the trees.

A proper lady’s place was not on the back of a horse with a wanted man, nor was it in a seedy alleyway with bad intentions. But there was nowhere else you wanted to be.

Nestling the gun in the saddlebag, you clung tightly to Arthur’s midsection and buried your face between his shoulder blades.

He was warm and strong and the wind in your hair cooler now, every sense heightened from the rush surging through you.

Slowing to a trot Arthur pulled to a grassy clearing and stopped. “Think we made it…”

He dismounted and grabbed you by the waist to help you do the same, bodies flush as your feet hit the ground.

“Wasn’t exactly a perfect heist but…you handled yerself well sweetheart.”

Arthur’s arms still hovered around you loosely as he spoke beneath his bandanna. His eyes searched yours as you brought your fingertips to his face.

Slowly, you removed what kept his lips from you and ran your thumb along his stubbled cheek. You admired the chestnut locks that fell carelessly along his brow and the way his broad chest heaved at your touch. All you wanted to do was kiss him and never stop kissing him.

“I feel like I could do anything right now Arthur…”

A smirk formed at the corner of his lips with an expectant raise of his eyebrows. Standing on your tiptoes your brought his face to yours for a slow, delicate kiss.

Though he looked dumbstruck and returned the gesture, he pulled back for a moment. “I want this but…I’m no good for ya girl. I’m only good at fightin’ and robbin’…you know that.”

“Bullshit Arthur.” The look on his face was priceless, seemingly more shocked to hear you swear despite just seeing you shoot at the law.

“Bullshit. You have goodness in you too and I’m a grown woman who knows what she wants.” Arthur watched you in disbelief.

“You’re good at protecting me and the way you touch me is kind and it makes me feel safe. I want you to keep touching me like that Arthur…”

A flicker of pride flashed on his face. The only time you could tell Arthur felt good about himself was when he helped others and he especially took a shine to helping you. Being a protector let him realize he was capable of being good at more than just robbing and fighting.

“Fair enough,” he said bringing you back in his embrace. “But I need to hear ya say it.”

“I want this Arthur, you have no idea,” your words were breathy and impatient.

His grip on you was tender but somehow still powerful despite not using any of his real strength. You felt positively tiny in his arms.

His mouth opened more for you, allowing curious flicks of your tongue on his; light whimpers combining. Hands began moving more hungrily — yours down his chest and his up your thigh.

Months prior you might have felt shame at the ache between your legs and the desire urging your hips forward; but now all you cared about was Arthur dousing that fire.

“Sweetheart it shouldn’t be like this…”

Your heart dropped, unsure of where he was going with that statement. “Wh— what do you mean?”

“Well I—look…” Arthur stuttered, trying to find the right words with a reddening face. “You deserve better’n layin’ in some grass in the woods like this.”

He paused to think and fiddle with his suspenders before continuing, “least lemme take ya back to the manor. Wanna make it, y’know…proper.”

You considered telling Arthur that you wanted it here, still riding the high of the night; being outside after barely escaping would only add to the thrill.

But Arthur didn’t want that. He wanted to treat you special and give you comfort and patience. He didn’t need to be the rugged outlaw anymore that night, he just needed to be your suitor.

You already got to play cops and robbers, maybe it was his turn to play the gentleman.

Sighing with relief you took Arthur’s hand, “well just so you know, here would be just fine with me.” Planting a reassuring kiss on his cheek you headed toward the horse, “but you can take me home.”

Arthur took a longer, more secluded route through the woods in case someone was still looking for you.

It wasn’t easy being patient, the tension palpable and the anticipation exquisite.

As you lurched forward with the horses gait you replayed the kiss and wandering hands in your mind.

You couldn’t wait to unbutton his shirt, to feel the curve of his muscle, to make him whine with the touch of your fingertips, and God you couldn’t wait to feel his on you.

You wanted him to squeeze you and mark you in every intimate place that was usually kept hidden. To thrust and curl and fill all of you.

Positioning yourself higher on the saddle you let your hands roam along his waistline and kissed the curve where his neck met his shoulder.

Arthur leaned his head, allowing you to kiss and nip at more of his sensitive skin. He responded with his rough hand grasping your calf. Ever so slowly it pushed up your dress and glided along your thigh.

Your hips instinctively rolled forward to the small of his back, Arthur kneading the fat of your thigh as your wetness grew.

It really wasn’t easy being patient.

You keened, “how much longer baby?”

“Jesus,” Arthur sighed while rolling his own hips at the air. “Gonna be there soon.”

“Tell me what you’re gonna do to me Arthur…”

“’M’gonna take off that dress you look so goddamn gorgeous in and feel how soft y’are.”

“Gonna feel how soft I am everywhere?” You teased with a light bite to his ear.

Arthur grunted a yes, “gonna part them pretty legs and make ya feel good darlin’. You gonna be good’n wet for me?”

“Oh you could sink into me right this second Arthur.”

“My God girl,” Arthur said taken aback. “Never thought I’d hear ya talkin’ like that…”

“I’m full of surprises.” You snaked your hand down to his lap, lightly ghosting over his straining manhood. “And I see you’re ready for me.”

Arthur shuddered with a groan, “painfully so.”

Laughing together you continued teasing touches and lustful whispers until the manor came into view.

Arthur sent the horse off and though it was late, the two of you snuck in should any of the gang still be up.

As the doors of the bedroom closed behind you, Arthur lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist. Gently pressing you to a wall your kisses were passionate and rutting slow.

Carrying you over to the bed, Arthur sat you at the edge and positioned himself behind.

Though they trembled slightly with nerves, he moved with unhurried and adept hands; carefully untying and undoing each bit of your dress and corset.

Despite the prior buildup and desperation, Arthur worked with incredible consideration and care — making sure not to harm your dress and kissing and caressing all newly exposed skin.

As the last of the confines on your upper body fell down your shoulders, Arthur massaged a breast in each hand from behind, kissing your neck and whispering praises in your ears.

Moving to the floor he knelt in front of you, slowly rolling your stockings off each leg and kissing down your inner thighs as he did.

Bare before him you felt vulnerable and exposed in a way you never had been. But Arthur wasn’t like anyone else you’d been with.

Standing up he took you in with an awestruck smile, “how the hell did I get so lucky?”

Moving to unbutton his shirt you mused, “I could ask you the same question.”

Giving him the same affection and attention, your lips and hands explored with purpose — making sure he understood you loved his scars and the hair that dusted his chest and trailed down his abdomen.

You watched as he stepped out of his pants, eager to take his throbbing length in your hand. But before you could, Arthur gently layed you down, moving the pillow under your head as he did.

Running his hand through your hair he gazed sweetly, “feelin’ okay beautiful?”

You nodded eagerly, pulling him down. Settling beside you his hand dipped down to your heat, sliding along your wet folds before pushing a finger in.

A drawn out whine escaped from your lungs, finally getting the touch you needed.

Arthur let out an amused chuckle before bringing his mouth to your breast, twirling his tongue along the stiff peak and sucking it in his mouth. All while working your inner walls.

“Arthur,” you mewled, suddenly overwhelmed at all of the wonderful sensation.

“S’okay sweet girl,” sitting up slightly Arthur used his free hand to move one of yours to your mound. “Show me how ya touch yerself.”

You rubbed circles on your swollen nub, slick with the arousal from Arthur’s pleasuring. Even just the featherlight touch was enough to push you closer as you clenched around his large digits.

Arthur observed you with lust blown eyes, “that’s right sweetheart, let’s getcha there.” His breath was hot against your neck as he cooed in your ear, “be a good girl for me…”

That was all it took for your gut to tighten as Arthur made his way back down to your breast, eagerly sucking between praises while you came around his fingers.

He didn’t remove himself from you until the last of the quivers left your legs and your panting settled. “That’s my girl…”

Gathering your senses and coming back to reality, you gently urged Arthur onto his back and moved to get on top. Straddling his much wider lap was almost a strain.

But the feeling of the underside of his cock as your wet folds glided over the twitching hardness, quickly made any strain forgotten.

Arthur’s hands grasped your hips as you sunk onto him, taking him into your core with needy moans.

He let out a shaky exhale and a whisper of your name while stilling your hips from moving, “jus’…stay like this for a second.”

Reaching up to run his thumb over your lip he smiled warmly, “this has to be the closest to heaven I’ll ever get.”

“Quite the smooth talker there Mr. Morgan.”

He laughed sweetly in response, “nah I ain’t smooth. Jus’ sayin’ what’s true.”

“Well either way,” you writhed slightly, “I think I can get you a little closer to heaven tonight…”

Placing your hands on Arthur’s sturdy chest you began bouncing on his cock, watching as he became a beautiful, whimpering mess beneath you.

There was a pride and thrill in making a tough, some would say brutish man like Arthur melt for you.

“C’mere princess,” Arthur pulled you down flush to him, your breasts pressed tightly to his upper chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

Kissing you with fervor he bucked up into your heat, his much bigger frame completely enveloping you.

“How’s this darlin’?”

“So—fuck, so good.”

“Love hearin’ you swear fer me…”

“Maybe,” you choked out between thrusts, “you should fuck me harder then.”

A primal groan expelled hot breath against your ear as Arthur picked up pace, his hand palming the swell of your ass as it shook with impact.

His substantial hand moved to cover the back of your head, lightly pulling your hair. “You take me so well sweetheart — God, so warm ’n tight.”

Every pump of Arthur’s cock hit a spot that had scarcely been stimulated before, slick dripping down your thighs as he did.

Arthur placed his fingers around your soaked opening, feeling as he pistoned in and out. “We’re makin’ a mess outta these expensive sheets.”

He tenderly placed his hand on your jaw to move your face towards his, “but you like that…dont’cha?”

His gravelly drawl was sex and sin.

Taking his thumb into your mouth you simply moaned a response as your pussy clenched around him.

“Yeah you do…good girl…”

Talking himself into a frenzy, taut muscle twitched and stiffened as he grew closer, legs kicking slightly with shallow breaths.

“Christ m’close,” Arthur choked out as his grip on you trembled.

Swiftly sitting up you hopped off and pumped his pulsing cock as he swore and gasped and gathered the sheets in his tight fists.

“That’s it handsome,” you stroked his flexing thigh while hot spend dripped down your knuckles and shot onto his tight stomach.

Arthur made a good call coming back to the manor; the comfort of the soft linens and silks certainly felt heavenly to your spent bodies.

The sight of him nude and blissful in your bed was something you’d carry with you as well, and you hoped he enjoyed the rare indulgence of comfort.

Propping himself on his elbow, Arthur eyed you with admiration. “Hell of a night.”

“Oh? That’s not just a regular night for you?” You joked with a light giggle.

“Robbin’ an idiot in an alleyway? Sometimes,” he shrugged playfully. “But this?” He leaned down to press his lips tightly to yours. “This ain’t.”

“Ya know darlin’, you ain’t gonna be able to show yer face around them lawmen again,” he realized with a laugh.

“To be honest, I think I’m growing weary of Saint Denis. Was actually hoping I might explore a little more of the world,” you paused to look at Arthur with a coy smile, “ya know?”

“Hmm, I might be able to help ya with that.”

Whether you really could leave and whether Arthur would trust your judgment in making that choice remained to be seen.

But he was happy in that moment and so were you. The two of you together was a paradox, and despite this — or maybe because of, it worked.

All that mattered was Arthur’s strong presence above you as he played with your necklace; the only thing left on your body.

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #nsft #fluff #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x f!reader #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 fanfiction #arthur morgan fanfiction #red dead redemption

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rising-volteccers · 9 months

Note

I have a prompt for Friede. He gets sick but he's the last one to notice. Like everyone is taking care of him in their own way.

Thank you very much for sending this prompt! I'm currently sick myself and wrote this all in one go while medicated and sporting a 102F fever. I suppose I just wanted to make him suffer alongside me hhh...

Anyways! Hope it's still an enjoyable read! I think this is the longest piece I've written thus far so I'm pretty proud of it still haha!

Series: Pokemon Horizons

Characters: Friede, Cap, Murdock, Mollie, Orla, Liko, Roy, Ludlow

Waking up that morning, Friede found himself struggling to sit up. His body felt heavier than usual, though he supposed that was expected when he took night shift for the past couple of days. Manouvering the ship through a storm, battling strong winds and dipping temperatures took a lot out of someone. At the very least his crew didn’t lose too much sleep over it, especially the children.

Cracking a huge yawn that he barely covered, Friede went through his usual routine at a more sluggish pace. He briefly forgot where he kept his goggles and he almost exited the room without tying up his hair. Cap gave him odd looks throughout it all but aside from a questioning noise, he scampered up his shoulder as he headed to the dining area.

By the time he entered, everyone was in the midst of digging into the wonderful breakfast spread Murdock put out. He barely stifled another yawn when Orla greeted him with, “Morning sleepyhead. Thought you were gonna skip breakfast there.”

“Mm? Nah, I would’t miss it without someone getting on my case about it,” he replied with a cheeky little grin at Mollie, who merely raised an eyebrow at him. Friede ignored her sudden interest as he took a seat at the end of the table.

Friede wasted no time in pouring himself a mug of coffee. With how tired he felt, he needed a bit more caffeine in his system. The first sip made him pause, and he pulled the mug away to scrutinize the dark liquid.

“Hey Murdock, did you use a different coffee blend?”

Murdock looked up from his own plate. “Hm? Nah, it’s always been the same. Why, it tastes weird to you or something?”

Huh, if nothing changed, he supposed it was his taste buds being weird for some reason. Oh well, nothing that he couldn’t drink. Friede gave an airy wave that made Murdock stare at him for awhile longer before he passed the bread basket to Roy.

With a half mug of coffee in him, Friede found himself lacking a bit of appetite which he chalked up to his tired state. His stomach felt a little weird after a piece of toast and a few berries so he decided to stop before any accident could occur.

“That’s all you’re eating?” Orla commented as he drained the rest of his mug.

“Yeah. Guess I’m not as hungry as I thought,” he replied, once again stifling a jaw cracking yawn. As he rubbed his eye with a finger, he missed the way his crew exchanged glances with one another.

“You feeling alright?” Murdock asked, sounding oddly cautious.

“Yeah, probably just all those late nights catching up. Nothing that going to sleep earlier tonight couldn’t fix.”

Suddenly feeling a little stifled from the attention he garnered, Friede stood up from his chair–placing a hand on the back of it to steady himself through a brief wave of lightheadness.

“Hey–”

“I’ll catch you guys later then,” he spoke quickly, flashing them all his usual smile before turning on his heel to exit the dining area. Cap quickly finished his own food, cheeks stuffed and then dashed after him.

That was a little weird, admittedly. His crew stared at him like he had two heads at the end. Couldn’t figure out why but oh well, maybe that was a one time thing. Friede paused to allow Cap a chance to settle on his shoulders again. It was his turn to do some chores today so he might as well get to it now if he wanted to nap later.

–

After he cleared the table and washed the dishes with Roy’s help, Murdock went to the cabinet to pull out a tea caddy. He opened the lid to check what blends he still had left. Only he, Liko and Mollie really enjoyed tea while the rest were coffee drinkers (or in Roy’s case, a Tapu Cocoa fiend). He rarely made tea for those outside their little group but he figured it was necessary today.

Murdock knew that Friede wasn’t feeling well. If his sluggish nature wasn’t a tell, then his lack of appetite spoke of an uneasy stomach. While Friede couldn’t match Roy’s huge appetite (typical for a growing boy and one where Murdock encouraged), the good captain usually ate his fill before going about his day.

The chef took out the honey jar as well as a half cut lemon from the fridge. While he waited for the water to boil, he took out a red thermos from a different cabinet. Rarely used seeing that he was more than happy to make the crew something from scratch but one that should fit his purpose right now.

Within twenty minutes, he exited the kitchen with the thermos in hand, filled with a blend specifically made for uneasy stomachs. Murdock found Friede and Cap quickly enough; it was his turn to mop the deck, which he found him to do with slow, sluggish swipes.

Swallowing down the flare of concern, Murdock called out, “Hey Friede!”

Friede nearly dropped the mop in surprise but he straightened up with a tighter grip, then turned around to regard him with a semblance of a pout.

“What’s with the attempted heart attack so early in the morning?” he grumbled. Another check towards his unwell state was him being a little testier than usual.

“Sorry. I just wanted to give you something. Here you go.” Murdock handed Friede the red thermos. At the questioning look, he gave a disarming smile, keeping his voice light. “It’s honey lemon tea. I’m slowly using up what we have left before we restock in a few days.”

“Okay? Thanks I guess.” Murdock knew him well enough to not take the somewhat dismissive response to heart. Likely confused when his brain wasn’t running on all cylinders, not to mention the choice of beverage given. Coffee or Tapu Cocoa were the go-to more than a whole thermos of tea.

“No problem. I’d appreciate if you could give it a try later and give me some feedback on it. Wanted to see if the ratio I put works or not,” he added. By framing it this way, Friede would find himself obligated to do so, which Murdock hoped involved him taking a break whilst drinking it.

“Yeah sure.”

“Right, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll see you around lunch then.” Murdock didn’t stick around after that. Had he tried to push more, Friede might get defensive, stubbornly loveable fool that he was. The chef decided to make a hearty soup for lunch to see if his captain could stomach it later.

–

“What’s on your mind Liko?” Roy’s question startled the girl out of her thoughts. She jumped a little in her seat, spooking Sprigatito who fell off her lap in turn. She spent a few minutes apologizing to her starter before answering Roy, who looked a bit guilty after that.

“I’m sorry for startling you. I didn’t think you were so out of it,” he apologized, hugging Fuecoco tighter to his chest.

“N-No it’s fine! I was… mm, I was thinking about earlier.” Liko replied, shifting to the side so Roy could take a seat seeing that she piqued his interest.

“What about earlier?”

“You know… how tired Friede looks.” Having been a part of the Rising Volt Tacklers for awhile now, Liko had time to observe the crew’s habits and behavior, storing everything into her little mental file cabinet. She knew that Friede’s sluggishness was unusual for the seemingly upbeat guy. At least, he’d try to hide if he felt off on account to avoid worrying others.

“I guess you’re right. I don’t think I’ve seen him yawn so much during breakfast! That’s usually my thing!”

Liko giggled at his words, though her expression drooped into a more thoughtful one. “Yes, which is why I think he’s not feeling 100% right now. And he’s either not admitting it or he doesn’t think much on why he’s feeling so tired. A-At least that’s what I think.”

Roy tilted his head, so much so that Liko could practically see the gears turning. “I think you’re right. I remember Orla mentioning once that he’s a stubborn, lovable oaf of a man that thinks he needs to shoulder everything himself!”

She blinked in surprise at that. She hummed, fiddling with a lock of her hair. “I-I see. I think you should avoid mentioning that to either of them…”

“Hm? Yeah, alright.” Roy hugged his Fuecoco once more. “So… do you think we should help him?”

Liko nodded, swinging her legs. “Yeah! I think we should! Maybe he’d feel better if he gets some more rest. It’s his turn to do most of the chores today I believe.”

“We can help him out with that so he can go take a nap or something.” Roy had a huge grin on his lips, hopping up from his seat. “What are we waiting for?”

Liko quickly got up to join him, leaving Sprigatito to curl up and nap on the couch for the time being. The two kids hunted down their mentor until they spotted him carrying a basket of laundry, heading towards the back of the ship where they hung them out to air dry.

“Hey Friede!” Roy called out. Liko saw the way Friede startled, almost dropping the basket before his grip tightened at the last second. She quickly joined Roy to stand at his side.

“Liko, Roy,” he began slowly, eyes narrowing slightly. “Did you need something?”

The kids exchanged a quick glance before Liko stepped up to answer. “W-We were hoping if we could… um, swap chores today!”

“Yeah!” Roy was quick to follow up, steamrolling through whatever response Friede might have said. “We have plans to do some training tomorrow so we were hoping if we could do our chores today to have some free time tomorrow!”

“Training?” Friede sported a questioning look but Liko took note of the fact that it wasn’t an immediate dismissal.

“Y-Yeah! We… wanted to get more practice on battling so we can help defend our home if stuff happens.”

Liko resisted the urge to squirm from Friede’s assessing gaze. Roy wasn’t as nearly affected but she had a feeling the boy too waited with bated breath for a verdict. At last something in Friede’s eyes softened, and he sighed.

“Well, I guess I can take over your chores tomorrow. Make sure to inform Mollie about the change, alright? Don’t need her coming after my neck for foisting off work onto you two…”

Liko had a feeling that they weren’t supposed to hear that last bit. She chose not to say anything aside from carefully grabbing the laundry basket from him. Friede sighed once more, regarding the pair with a half smile.

“If you want to practice with Cap too, let me know. I’m sure he’d be up for it.”

“Y-Yes, thank you!” she responded, injecting as much enthusiasm into her voice. Liko supposed training was on tomorrow’s agenda. Hopefully Sprigatito would be up for it.

“Yes! Me and Fuecoco are ready for the challenge!”

“Alright, alright.” Friede covered his mouth from an abrupt yawn that sneaked out. He ran his fingers through his hair, then stood up straighter. “If you two need me, I’ll be at the captain’s deck.”

“Okay!” She clamped down the urge to add I hope you’ll feel better soon!

The two kids watched Friede walk away and up the small steps until he disappeared into the room.

“You think he’s going to nap?” Roy asked.

“Mm… I hope so.” Liko eyed the laundry in hand. “Come on, we better go hang this up while the sun’s up.”

“Okay!”

Liko hoped that Friede would feel a little better with some rest, knowing that Roy too shared her sentiment.

–

Ludlow slowly pushed the door to the captain’s deck open. Peeking his head inside, he found Cap staring inquisitively at him before recognition flashed in his eyes once his gaze landed onto the folded blanket in his arms. The Pikachu raised a paw at him, forming a little thumbs up.

“Don’t mind me,” he uttered softly. Ludlow shuffled his way inside, steps light in comparison to the soft snores escaping the young captain’s lips. Once he reached the large chair, he took a moment to observe Friede.

Being a fisherman by trade and at heart, he knew to be patient whilst keeping his senses open for even the slightest of changes. Be as still as a calm lake, hand ready to reel in the moment his lure caught something. Ludlow of course applied this in his everyday life, too.

Thus without it being explicitly stated, he knew that the rest of the youngsters were looking after their ill captain. He knew why they’ve yet to outright state it to his face; Friede could be infuriatingly stubborn, insisting that he was fine despite feeling otherwise. Ludlow supposed it matched his ambition at least. One couldn’t have thought of converting his fishing boat into an airship without being strong-willed and just a little eccentric.

Still, he personally believed that there was a time and place for everything. Friede truly was lucky to have such caring people in his life. Ludlow didn’t exactly place himself in that circle, preferring to continue his observation of these youngsters from his spot day in and day out.

Carefully, he unfolded the blanket before draping it over the slumbering captain’s form. Ludlow could do nothing about the rather uncomfortable position he slept in without the risk of waking him up but he did his best to tuck the blanket in. Cap too assisted him, using his paws to tug the blanket higher up.

Friede remained fast asleep throughout it all. Ludlow eventually took a step back, shared a knowing nod with Cap before shuffling his way out of the room.

–

Orla toiled the morning away within the engine room but her mind drifted every so often towards a certain someone on this ship. She didn’t let any of those thoughts affected her work as she didn’t want to worry the Pokemon that assisted her. By the time she emerged from the hot room around lunch time, she was free to ruminate about that stubborn, loveable oaf they had for a captain.

She knew that Mollie and Murdock shared similar thoughts during Friede’s time at breakfast earlier. All of them knew him well enough to know that he either refused to acknowledge his ill state or he didn’t connect the dots.

Friede was a brilliant man, that Orla won’t deny. His plan to fashion an old fishing boat into an airship was successful mostly due to her work but the layout he presented helped with the foundation. Orla built around his vision until they had a home in the sky, soaring high and free.

As intelligent as he was, the guy could be fairly dense in keeping track of changes to his body. Sometimes he actively hid that fact, believing that he could handle it by himself until one of them had to drag him by the ear to Mollie. Other times, it just didn’t click that maybe, just maybe his body wasn’t feeling all that well.

Orla had a feeling that it leaned more towards the latter this time. He wasn’t as defensive, though his exhaustion may have tempered it down. Regardless, his infuriating stubbornness likely remained, as it won’t even if his brain actively cooked itself. Thus Orla would give him a bit more time to come clean before dragging him to the infirmary.

In the meantime, she went to freshen herself up for lunch. Worrying about that knucklehead made her hungry, so she wasted little time in carving herself a spot at the dining table. Murdock informed them that soup and sandwiches were today’s menu. Orla lacked any doubt that it was in consideration for Friede.

Who, as lunch progressed remained absent. Liko and Roy exchanged glances, while Murdock looked like he wanted nothing more than to get up from his seat. Ludlow and Mollie ate on as usual but she took notice on the way Mollie tapped a finger on the surface, signalling her rising ire and worry.

Orla bit back a sigh. She quickly finished up her meal, then declared to the table that, “I’ll go check up on Friede.”

It felt like the table collective exhaled a relieved breath. Murdock flashed her a grateful smile while the kids exchanged soft smiles with one another. Mollie looked up, quiet but her eyes sent a clearly defined message.

Let me know what happens.

The engineer dipped her head once, then stood up from her chair.

“He was napping in the captain’s deck last time I checked,” Ludlow spoke up, surprising them that he knew in the first place.

“Oh, so he did get some more rest…” She barely picked up on Liko’s muttered words prior to her exit from the dining room. Her steps were collected as she made her way up the steps to the deck.

Orla opted to enter without knocking. Her entrance drew Cap’s attention, who looked a little relieved. Her heart rate sped up slightly as she closed the distance between the door and the captain’s chair.

Taking one look at Friede, she knew why Cap reacted that way. Putting aside the uncomfortable position he fell asleep in, she spotted the dusting of red high on his cheekbones. Sweat dotted his forehead, easily revealing a fever once she pressed the back of her hand against it.

She hated being right in this situation. Orla pulled out her Rotom Phone and sent a quick text to Mollie to prepare the infirmary since she was bringing a fever stricken idiot there within the next ten minutes. After that, she gently placed a hand on Friede’s shoulder and gave it a little shake.

Friede groaned, looking like he was trying to free his arms from the blanket in order to swat her hand away. Orla gave a harder shake, this time punctuating it with, “Hey Friede, come on wake up.”

Eventually hazy yellow eyes opened, and he blinked in confusion for a few seconds before they settled onto her face.

“Orla…?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Come on, I’m taking you to the infirmary. You’re sick,” she stated promptly. Before his ill timed stubbornness kicked in, she needed to make decisions so that he only had time to react and not think.

It took a bit of effort for Orla to pull Friede to his feet. She had to shoulder the sudden weight pressed against her, his deep heavy breaths spoke of a sudden wave of lightheadness that he tried to get in control of. She gave him time to stand a little steadier on his feet, then with an arm around his waist for support, she started to guide her sick captain towards the infirmary.

–

Mollie had things prepared by the time Orla and Friede came stumbling in. She wasted little time in helping Orla get him on the bed, where he struggled somewhat from the hands that wanted to take his flight jacket off.

“I don’t want you in too many layers,” Mollie spoke, gently gripping Friede’s shoulder as to ground him. She waited until he settled down before starting her check-up.

After Orla left the infirmary, her hands swiftly went from one test to another; checking his temperature, pulse, the inside of his throat when he mumbled about a scratchy throat during her questioning session. Eventually, she came to the conclusion that Friede was in for a few days minimum of bed rest until the worst of the symptoms eased up.

Mollie raised an eyebrow at the mullish tilt to his eyebrows once she gave him the verdict. “I don’t want you to pass out nor increase the chance of spreading this to everyone. I’ll be having my hands full looking after one stubborn idiot.”

“Harsh,” he mumbled, cowering when her eyes hardened. Mollie could be a little cold when someone had the misfortune of igniting her ire. She preferred a cool sense of professionalism rather than allow fear to settle in. Friede genuinely worried her but as the nurse on this ship, she had to keep rational if she wanted him to recover as quickly as possible.

“Am I wrong?” she challenged.

Perhaps something finally clicked into that feverish brain of his as Friede hunched in slightly, eyes darting to the side.

“No,” he admitted. “Sorry for worrying you.”

As much as she wanted to keep a hold of the slight thrum of anger beneath her skin, Mollie simply heaved out a deep sigh, briefly pinching the bridge of her nose.

“I wish that you’d stop hiding when you’re not feeling well, Friede.” Her eyes settled onto his contrite expression. “Do you realize that you’ve got everyone worried today?”

“I, uh, I actually didn’t.” His voice sounded like a child being reprimanded, which she supposed wasn’t far from the truth. “Honest, I just thought I was feeling more tired than usual. But I guess that’s why Murdock gave me that tea, and the kids offering to switch chores with me…”

It took a lot of willpower to not roll her eyes. Honestly, this brilliant man could be so dense at times.

“I don’t know whether it’s better that you’re ignorant or stubborn. Regardless, you’re on bedrest for coming days. I’ll give you some medication to take after you have something in your stomach. Murdock made soup so that should be easy on it.”

“He did?”

“Yes Friede. Everyone noticed you weren’t feeling well–except for you, unsurprisingly.” Her blunt tone didn’t quite match the way she slowly draped a blanket over his form. “Now you’re going to briefly rest here while I have Murdock bring some soup for you to eat. I expect you to eat as much as you’re able to, then take the medicine. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” he mumbled, sighing blissfully once Mollie placed a folded damp rag over his forehead.

Mollie smoothened the blanket once more, her own expression softening somewhat. “Try and get some sleep, alright?”

“Mm…” She supposed that after the fight drained from his body, he couldn’t resist succumbing to some much needed rest. Mollie observed him for awhile longer, then checked her cabinet for the appropriate medicine to give Friede later.

With everyone pitching in to take care of their stubborn, loveable captain, it was her hope that he’d return back to full health before the week was up. Until then, she was in for a whole lot of whining in her immediate future…

Not that she fully minded, she supposed.

#Pokemon Horizons #Pokeani #Professor Friede #Liko (Pokemon)#Roy (Pokemon)#Murdock (Pokemon)#Orla (Pokemon)#Mollie (Pokemon)#Ludlow (Pokemon)#Captain Pikachu #Hana writes stuff #A fun challenge to write multiple POVs aside from Friede's!#I hope I got their voices more or less alright

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straykits · 1 year

Note

back again hehe 🧍🏾‍♀️

could you write no.12 with minho please? i think it'd be so cutee

ty in advance<3

prompt 12: possessive hand holding

hi, sorry this took so long afkjfka ur other req is also gonna take a hot minute 😭😭 i hope you like this though, even just a little bit. pairing: bestfriend!minho x gn!reader wc: 0.7k+ warnings: mentions of alcohol, a guy being stubborn about drinks??? genre/s: (implied) college au, non-idol au

he’d been on your ass for the last fifteen minutes. some upperclassman from another major who you were sure you spent all but zero classes with.

“c’mon, a drink?” it’s probably the fifth time he’s asked. “just one, and if by the time you finish it you don’t want my number, I’ll leave.”

you weave your way through the mass of people, neck craning for a familiar face. it was definitely much easier to navigate a crowded bar than a crowded club, but it didn’t make finding your friends any easier.

the guy keeps following, stopping occasionally to give you the false hope that he’d run into someone who would keep him distracted long enough for you to slip away. it wasn’t the case, unfortunately, and you finally find yourself in the outside area of the bar. less people, less noise, but the same amount of persistence.

“y/n, just one. my buy, no need to pay me back!”

the amount of carefree arrogance that he had when saying that irked you just enough that you were about to snap and turn around to yell something in his face.

but then a new presence stops you.

you feel the hand around your wrist, the size and the way the thumb slips into your palm and presses gently familiar and comforting. you know who it is before they even speak.

“and who is this?”

minho’s voice is close to your ear, and he pulls you back so you’re against his chest. you could feel his heartbeat against his chest, the steady thump hitting your back like comforting pats. he pulls your hand up, placing it on your hip, and intertwines his finger with yours.

it wasn’t the first time he’d been this close to you, wasn’t even the first time he’d had his hands in yours, but something about it all made your ears warm, made your stomach flip, made your heart skip a beat.

how cliche.

“minho- this is, uh-”

the guys name had slipped your mind, really.

you glance at your upperclassman, expecting some type of exclamation about how hurt he was that you’d forgotten his name, but his attention was trained on minho.

he seemed to be resisting a glare, eye twitching ever so slightly as he looks minho up and down. there’s venom in his voice when he speaks next.

“who’re you, their boyfriend?”

you’re almost frozen by how quick the guy’s demeanor had changed.

“yeah.”

minho was a lot of things to you, but he was definitely not your boyfriend.

“lee minho, nice to meet you.”

you glance up to see a smile plastered on his face, his cold tone like ice in whiskey as he extends his free hand out.

it takes a moment for the other guy to take minho’s hand in a brisk shake, the fake smile on his fake rivaling minho’s.

“i’m just leaving. sorry to disturb the two of you,” he says and with a final glare, turns and stalks off.

“see ya, just leaving!”

the fake cheer in minho’s voice was blatantly obvious.

you turn in minho’s arms and he lets you go, only to pull you towards him once again. hands find their way around your waist, this time holding you to him firmly.

“just a bit longer, y/n. he’s still watching.”

there was no way to verify minho’s words - your back was to your upperclassman, and to look back now would make this whole act obvious.

“boyfriend?” you mumble up at minho, face warmer than you’d like to admit “”you couldn’t have come up with something better?”

“it was the best i could think of, in that moment,” minho shrugs. then the corner of his lips qiurk up, eyes hazing over slightly as he looks directly at you. his voice drops into a low whisper. “so humour me for a bit, why don’t you? until that guy’s gone, anyways.”

it’s a devilish grin that he gives you - so sly, so mischievous, so minho that you just can’t say no.

“okay,” you mumble, bringing a hand up to cup his jaw. the action was half reluctant, half laced with a tempting desire that had built up over the years. you see him gulp, see the way his eyes flutter momentarily, as if you had almost broken through some facade. “just for a bit.”

#districtninewriters #lee minho x reader #stray kids x reader #lee minho imagines #lee minho drabbles #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #yall idk what the heck to tag this LMAO

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secretsofblackthornhall · 2 years

Text

Julian To Magnus

Hi Magnus, it’s Julian Blackthorn. (I know, you told me just “Julian” is fine, but habits are hard to break.) You had said you wanted updates on what was happening with Blackthorn Manor, so here are some of those. More than you probably expected, actually.

First off, Hypatia Vex says hello. So that probably tells you from the start how things are going. She also says that you should contact her regarding some kind of money you owe her, but I said I didn’t want to be in the middle of any of that and only said I would mention it. (I believe she said you “welshed on a bet,” which I had to look up. (a) It doesn’t sound like something you would do, and (b) it seems offensive to the Welsh?)

We saw Hypatia because we went to the London Shadow Market, and we went to the Shadow Market because, in addition to all the other mysterious business at the house—a ghost, a curse, a lot of bad vibes overall—it turns out we also have an enchanted diary. It belonged to a Tatiana Blackthorn, née Lightwood, back in the 1870s. Emma has been reading it since we got here, but it has some kind of spell on it that prevented her from telling anyone about it. Even before we got to the Shadow Market, Emma and I both forgot about the diary a couple times each. Luckily the other one still remembered. Eventually I wrote “REMEMBER THE DIARY” in huge colorful letters on some posterboard and hung it up so we see it when we first wake up.

But that’s not a long-term solution, so we took it to the Shadow Market to find someone to disenchant the thing. Hypatia has a kind of outpost of her magic shop that she sets up in the Market, and we were relieved to find someone we knew—I wasn’t eager to hand over an ensorcelled Shadowhunter item to just anyone. As you’d probably guess, she did not seem happy to see us, but that’s kind of Hypatia’s thing. And no one is ever happy to see Shadowhunters at a Shadow Market, of course. We tried to look as casual as possible but it’s not like we can tell everyone, “Don’t worry! We’re not here to raid the place!” We did see a few stands suddenly close for the day as we approached, including one that sold a potion that was guaranteed to “put werewolf hair on your chest.” I have to wonder, is that actual werewolf hair shaved off an actual werewolf, or is it supposed to just make you look hairy like a werewolf?) I couldn’t ask because the stall was closed. You know how it is.

Anyway, for all her grousing about Shadowhunters only turning up when they needed something and so on, Hypatia was helpful enough once we explained what was going on. I think she couldn’t resist the puzzle of it. She took the diary in the back and, I guess, did some disenchanting. When she came back, she had good news and bad news. Good news: the diary was no longer enchanted. Bad news: being disenchanted triggered a failsafe spell which caused all the text to degenerate into Purgatic script. Someone really didn’t want that diary read.

Hypatia agreed to translate the diary, albeit for a significant fee (though it is a drop in the bucket compared to all the other costs of fixing the house). One thing: she said it would be kind of slow to do. Apparently the act of translating from demon scripts saps the translator’s energy and they can only do so much before they have to rest. I did not know that! (And if it turns out it’s not true, and Hypatia is only messing with us, please let me know.)

So provided Hypatia keeps her end of the deal, we should know more about the diary soon. It feels like we have all these puzzle pieces but we have no idea how to fit them together, or if we’re missing pieces, or if they’re even from the same puzzle. Is Tatiana’s diary related to the ghost? Are either of them related to the curse? Or is this house just totally piled up with bad magic?

Then on our way out of the Shadow Market there was another surprise: Ty’s ghost-modified Sensor started going crazy as soon as we left. We thought it must be something in the Market and went back in, but no, the signal stopped. We followed it out and it took us to Southwark Cathedral, which is just down the road from the Market. It still had a whole bunch of tourists visiting, so we got to do the classic Shadowhunter thing, glamour up and sneak in. The Sensor took us to the Nephilim weapons cache (in a niche under an alabaster statue of somebody-or-other) where we found…a weapon. I know, amazing, right? But this was obviously not just some generic weapon that had been left in the cache; it was beautiful and elaborate and looked like it could be worn ceremonially. It’s a curved dagger, Middle Eastern in origin (I am no expert on weapons from the region, unfortunately, and will have to check some references to get the specific kind), and there’s beautiful calligraphy all along the blade in Arabic script. (Of course, there are probably twenty common languages that use Arabic script; I don’t know which one this is.)

I’ve got some pictures and am going to write to Ty to see what he can find out about the dagger. It doesn’t seem like it goes with the flask at all, and I have no idea why it would have been left in the cathedral. The mysteries continue. This house is, uh, more of a fixer-upper than we originally thought.

Emma sends her love, and please give our love to Alec and the kiddos. Let me know if you have any thoughts and hope you’re finally getting a chance to relax a bit.

Julian

#SOBH #secrets of blackthorn hall #julian blackthorn #blackstairs #emma carstairs #magnus bane #hypatia vex #shadowhunters #ty blackthorn

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chartedworlds-blog · 6 years

Text

fun little character game ! fill in the below categories with 3 — 5 things that your character can be identified by. repost & tag away !

Valathaan

EMOTIONS / FEELINGS.

longing for days that have already gone by

jaded, a deep-set weariness

momentary bliss and contentment

a swell of joy that takes every bit of effort to rein back

COLORS.

light grays and browns

white as snow

washed-out, dulled blues like a churning sea before storm

SCENTS.

lemon thyme and magnolias with a hint of vanilla; pleasant, earthy

the dusty pages of a once-forgotten book

a faint smoky scent. probably the smell of a burning candle has bled into his clothes.

CLOTHING.

long draping robes. most have too much weight to catch the wind.

a shawl pinned around his wide shoulders, flowing and loose

intricate, fine details; ancient elven designs resembling leaves

OBJECTS.

an amulet, shining silver, shaped as the moon

a hair comb of white magnolias, dusty purple in the shadow, framed in gold

a series of yellow-tinted, leather-bound journals tied shut with strings

VICES / BAD HABITS.

expecting the worst. he is prone to melancholy.

distrusting of and standoffish to humans

the sense that he needs to be involved, even in other people’s ordeals

he struggles with ignoring his own wishes and desires.

BODY LANGUAGE.

hands held together behind his back, his fingers, long and skinny, slightly curled

a gentle smile that reaches the stormy gray of his eyes. he’s teasing, and the sharp rise of a brow makes that all the more clear.

a hand raised to his chin that betrays a warm but near-imperceptible twitch of his lips

AESTHETICS.

slightly curled, sun-bleached pages of an old tome that always opens on a specific page. someone clearly favored it.

the world succumbed to darkness broken only by the silver glow of a full moon, stars like pin-point holes in the night sky

rolls of parchment scattered over a great oak table and a room washed in candlelight

white-capped mountains that pierce the clouds and an ocean of snow at his feet

SONGS.

The National - About Today

Ólafur Arnalds - Ljósið

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Skeleton Tree

Max Richter - The Consolations of Philosophy

tagged by : @mercysought and @mindsmade (thanks, you two!)

tagging : @magicbound, @shootmedxwn, @thescarredfox, @cxrvinae, @winterfollows, @virassxn, @cuervocanto

#chartedworlds: tagged #[music is so hard because w me its either cry to slow moody tunes or sleep there's no in between.#anyway ty this took a lot longer than expected]#[sorry if u were already tagged 2 :(]

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scaramoon · 3 years

Text

he accidentally hurts you while sparring

DILUC, KAEYA, XIAO, CHILDE — gn!reader

warnings/genre: kinda hurt/comfort? idk it’s mostly fluffy, mentions of blood and (very) minor injuries, swearing in childe’s

notes: rbs are v much appreciated, please and ty !! also pls ignore that i got carried away w xiao’s </3

━━ diluc;

you’ll have to be insistent if you even want him to spar with you; he knows you’re fully capable of standing your ground but... he’s worried

he’ll act like he doesn’t, but it’s obvious that he keeps close by whenever you’re sparring with someone

but if you wear him down enough or you’re good with your words, you can convince him to be your sparring partner

lmao just tell him you’ll get kaeya to do it 💀

“don’t- don’t hold your sword like that.” he said, his tone was flat but you’d known him long enough to be able to find the concern in it.

“i know how to hold a sword, diluc,” you responded. “i asked for a partner, not a teacher, remember?”

red eyes flashed towards you and something like a smile appeared on your lover’s lips. you mirrored it, letting your lips curl into a grin.

“of course,” he said, smallest hint of a playful tone in his voice.

but he was quick, and you may have underestimated just how well trained he was. normally, you could have blocked him. this time, however, you weren’t expecting it and you’d already began to drop your dominant hand to your side.

he noticed that, but he was just a little too late. diluc was used to the momentum of his weapon, but it wasn’t often that he had to stop it. he tried to step back before he hurt you, your name falling from his lips, desperation and worry coating his voice.

and then, just as soon as he’s processed it, his claymore was on the ground and he was watching you crouch and hold your upper arm. your seethe of pain sent guilt rushing through him.

it took him a moment to decide whether or not to go over to you; he wanted to, he really wanted to, but a part of him feared that you didn’t want him near you.

he couldn’t help it though.

“y/n?” diluc’s tone was almost a command, loud but desperate, wanting you to look at him and tell him that you were perfectly fine — wanting that to be the truth.

tears pricked in the corners of your eyes but you looked at him nonetheless. he hated that look in your eyes. seeing you in pain was one thing, but the knowledge that he was the cause of it twisted his heart in unbearable ways.

“i’m ok, diluc,” you said, quieter than you normally would. “just a little scratch, see?”

you moved your hand from where it was holding onto your arm. blood coated your fingers and the clothing surrounding the new wound, but it was clear that the cut wasn’t deep.

he didn’t say anything. his lips were pressed into a thin line as he kneeled beside you. eyebrows pinned in worry and concentration evident in his eyes, he started ripping at your sleeve to get a better look.

“diluc.” you said. your voice was more commanding this time as you moved away from him. why couldn’t he see it really wasn’t so bad?

“i didn’t mean to hurt you.” this time you could see clearly just how distressed he was.

he looked like he was about to cry and he wasn’t the one that’d been hurt. not physically, anyway; you had no idea how his chest hurt, how he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

you stared at him for a little longer. “i said i’m fine. but if it will help you sleep at night, you can come help me clean it, deal?”

“of course, dove.”

━━ kaeya;

he actually likes sparring with you

he doesn’t often get the chance, but whenever both of you are able to, he sees it as time he gets to spend with you

and any time spent with you is never time wasted in his eyes

plus he gets to do the sword under your chin thing and tease you </3

“dead.” you said proudly, standing over your lover, your sword under his chin.

a playful grin spread across his lips as he let you enjoy your win. you backed away and allowed him to stand up, dust himself off. a stretch of his arms, and then he was picking up his sword to go again.

“ready?” kaeya asked, smirk stretching his lips.

“yeah,” you said, smiling back. your gloved hand tightened around your sword’s hilt; the gloves were making your hands sweaty, your grip loosening. “actually, w-”

“y/n!”

the next thing you realized was a stinging at you side. your hand immediately came to the cut, taking an instinctive step back. the sound of kaeya’s sword hitting the ground met your ears, his hands were on your arms a second later.

“hey, hey, you’re okay.” he tried to sound calm but if was a bad attempt. he crouched down onto the ground, guiding you to sit in front of him. cautious hands grabbed the hem of your shirt, kaeya looking up at you. “can I look, love?”

“yeah, but I’m fine.” you said, though your face was twisted in pain.

his eyes were full of pity when he looked at you, jaw clenching before he lifted your shirt enough to see the wound. on first appearance, it looked worse than it really was.

“see?” you spoke again. “all good.”

he didn’t say anything at first. he just pulled you closer to him, chin hooked over your shoulder, though he was careful not to agitate your cut.

“not really. but it’s okay, we’re gonna get you all better, yeah?”

“kaeya, seriously, i’m fine. you don’t need-”

“y/n.” his voice was still sweet and concerned, but more stern when he spoke this time. “let me take care of you.”

“...fine.”

━━ xiao;

good luck getting him to spar with you in the first place

it doesn’t matter how much you tell him you want to, he’ll keep turning you down

needless to say, you’ll have to play your cards right to get him to agree to it

“what if i hurt you, y/n?”

“i’ll be under-trained and get hurt if you don’t help me.”

“you know i’ll always be there if you call for me.”

“and if you can’t come?”

“...”

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” he stated simply, eyes narrowing at you. you only threw him a smile.

“what’s the worst that can happen? you won’t even use your real pole arm, you have a stick. you can’t stab me with it, xiao.”

“I would rather not think about ‘stabbing’ you in the first place.” he huffed. “but... you need to be safe, in case one day I can’t keep you safe myself.”

a smile crossed your face as you gripped your weapon, ready for him to start.

you may have miscalculated the power and ability of an adeptus though. you quickly found yourself tired and overwhelmed, just blocking and dodging was almost too much. he could sense your fatigue already, and he was listening for you to call him to stop. xiao was ready to stop on a dime, but he knew that you were stubborn and insistent.

his “pole arm” came close to your side, and he really thought you would dodge this one. you’d done it before. but he felt the wood hit you, you falling to the ground, holding your side soon after.

his make-shift weapon was long forgotten now. he was kneeling beside you in seconds, gentle fingers running along what he was sure was a broken rib. he didn’t find one, but the guilt was already eating him and that knowledge did nothing to stop it.

“ow! that hurts, don’t touch me.” you said, seething in pain and making a pitiful attempt to move away from him.

xiao did not cry.

he didn’t, it just wasn’t something he was accustomed to, and quite honestly he wasn’t sure if adepti could cry. but the idea of you being scared of him started tears to fill his eyes; his chest was tight, and he had this uncomfortable lump in his throat.

“no, no,” you started, propping yourself on your elbows and then sitting all the way up.

you tried to reach and hold his face, to wipe the tears off, but he turned away from you; he kept kneeling, but shifted to a position a little farther away from you. the adeptus made a noise something like a squeak, and it seemed to surprise him. he didn’t wait for you to finish talking, he turned away and looked anywhere except you.

“xiao, baby, that’s not what I meant. you can- I just meant don’t put your hands directly where I got hurt... xiao? can you look at me?”

it took him a few more moments before he turned his head back to you. you knew he wasn’t always the most emotional, but you didn’t think you’d seen him like this before. he hummed, not trusting his voice. still, he wouldn’t look you in the eyes.

“I’m fine, you didn’t hurt me. its just a little bruise, there’s not even blood... I’m not scared of you, xiao, it’s not your fault.”

he stared at you for another moment before he cleared his throat and stood up. “can we at least have someone make sure you’re okay?”

“yeah.”

“...and you won’t ask me to do that again?”

“of course not.”

━━ childe;

he has mixed feelings about sparring with you

of course, it’s an odd form of quality time, but he likes it

plus that means he won’t have to watch you spar with anyone else

but there’s always the risk that you could get hurt

he’s an archer though, so he only “attacks” you with his melee — he thought he was being a lot more careful

“ready?” childe smiled, twirling one of his weapons around his finger.

“as always.” you said, gripping your own weapon.

“mhm, sweetheart, I’m sure you’re ‘always ready’,” childe said dropped his hands to his sides and stepping closer to you.

you knew what he was trying to do — he attempted to pull this off every time you sparred with him, and you never failed to catch him. seem relaxed, and whenever you thought he wouldn’t, he’d attempt to get the better of you.

this time, however, you were not as quick as you usually were. childe knew that you always saw through this; not once had you’d failed to block him, so maybe he put his trust in his weapons more than he should have.

he stopped when both of you look at the clean, but bloody, cut he’d made. his eyes widened as it sinked in, coming to the realization that he’d hurt you

“y/n- shit, I’m sorry,” he said, panic clear in his voice, though he tried to hide it. his hand was on your shoulder, guiding you to sit on the ground. “are you- you’re okay, it’s not that deep. we’re gonna get that healed and you’ll be fine, yeah?”

for words so reassuring, his panicked tone was saying something along the lines of ‘shit shit fuck dammit, i accidentally hurt my own partner, what the fuck-’

“yeah, it’s no biggie,” you said, smiling a little at him. “it’s just a little cut, I get worse on commissions.”

you knew that later he would claim he was totally calm. in reality, he was trying his best to clean the wound with his vision, and he’d get better help whenever he could get to bubu pharmacy.

“you owe me kisses though, y’know,” you teased.

‘good,’ he thought. ‘they aren’t mad at me.’

“whatever ya want, love.”

“oh? maybe I’ll take cuddles too.”

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j6suke · 3 years

Text

buccigang’s favourite part of your body-!! Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑)

bruno: your mouth, he adores your smile and kisses. when you smile his heart melts and his chest grows tight, no matter how many times he sees it. and god, your kiss. every time your lips touch him he swears it adds another 50 years to his life expectancy.

‘Never stop smiling, amore.’

‘Hm? What? No, kiss me again.’

abbachio: oh lord-hum this man to sleep every single night, he’s in love with your voice. all of those comforting words you’ve told him are his treasure. the way that whenever he says ‘i love you’ and you say it back without a second thought, it truly brings him inner harmony. your gentle nature is resembled in your tone and abbachio absolutely lavishes in it. if you send him voicemails throughout the day,he’ll replay them and go so so soff.

‘Say that again. No-not that- that you love me,’

‘You have no idea the effect you have on me, my dolce.’

giorno: he’d clap you in a staring comp.LMAO IM SORRY OK ANYWAYS- your eyes are the most elegant and captivating thing in the world to giorno. he finds comfort in the midst of your glassy stares, and how they show nothing but passion toward him. let alone how observant giorno is, your eyes speak for themselves regardless. they’re just so damn gorgeous to him.

‘Let’s stay like this a little while longer. it’s not my fault you look at me like that, amore.’

‘I promise, cara, i’ll let no one ruin that glisten in your eye.’

mista: chest. yes, i know, boob go brrr. it’s much more than accidental cleavage mista gawks at- it’s your heart. nothing brings peace to this man like laying on your chest. he’s not open about it though, he plays it off as your ‘hot physique tm ;)’ he also adores your collarbone and shoulders. mista will trace his fingers around that area a lot, truly reminiscing on your love. you definitely have a lot of hickeys there. not to mention he totally thinks your bust is hot too so-

‘I don’t care that it’s 3 in the morning, let me lay on your chest- what do you mean why? because i want to?‘

‘Tesoro i love you but your boobs are in the way-‘

fugo: oh what fugo would give to be entangled in your cute grasp all day. when he wakes up during the night, he’ll look down to see your plumped face pressed against him snuggling into him as closely as you physically can, and it makes his heart skip a beat. fugo is constantly holding your hand, at the very least- and GOD- when you do the little bicep grab with your smaller hands, he sees fireworks!

‘Cara I don’t want you catching a cold, come close.’

‘Hm? You can’t reach the cookies? Cute.’

narancia: waist- but he insists on referring to it as belly or tummy. this boy gives no fucks what you look like. abs? hell yes. pooch? hell yes. chubby? hell yes. plus size? hell yes. somewhere inbetween? hell yes. bloat easily? hell yes. scars? hell yes. you get the point. hugging his love from behind is one of his favourite things to do, especially when she don’t expect it. when you get cramps, narancia will be right there to massage you for as long as you want, and give you all the butterfly kisses he has. bye the way, if you wear a midriff around him-be prepared to be devoured in affection and love. always a hand around the belly. always. And he’s not afraid to tickle you too. watch out.

‘Are you feeling any better? Yes? Too bad you’re still getting kisses.’

‘Your lil love handles are so cute! Come here!!1!1!’

-this took so long for no fucking reason, i’m too adhd. like i started this at 8pm and it’s 4.30am rn?? girl?? therapy??

anyway i hate the way this turned out but like i need to go to fucking bed, ty for reading ily!-

#jjba #jojos #jjba x reader #bruno buccellati #bruno x reader #fugo x reader #narancia x reader #giorno x reader #jojos bizarre adventure #abbachio x reader #mista x reader #part 5 #vento aureo #jjba x y/n #bucci gang

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zuluc · 3 years

Text

@kookieyachi requested: i hate to be that one person but i doubt they'll increase the rate but imma try my best & start saving for zhongli & childe 😼🤚 anYWAY-, i was wondering if u could write another diluc x reader whr they're in a secret relationship (only kaeya knew somehow-) & one of the mcs & paimon heard rumours of diluc having a s/o & decide to follow him, to see him gg on a date w the reader or summ,,, hope its not too confusing haha🥺💖

pairing: diluc x gn!reader

style & genre: written; fluff

warnings: none

notes: i meant rng rates those screw me over when it matters but i hope we get good ones when their banners come in, i wish the best of luck to everyone pulling may we get our dream teams; THIS IS CUTE ty for all your requests you know what’s good 😪😪

the mc in this is aether because i love aether

“I hear someone has Master Diluc’s heart!”

“Is that so?”

“Aw, man! I wanted him...”

It’s been the talk of the town for longer than he expected and wanted it to be: Diluc’s love life. He was always the private one and never shared anything about his personal life so it was only natural that no one, minus Kaeya it seemed, had a clue as to who took Mondstadt’s most wanted bachelor.

“Are they sure he’s even with someone? Isn’t it just a rumor?” Paimon asks her travel companion as they make their way into the tavern for a late night drink. The pair had travelled back to the town for a few days and while walking through they listened in on what the townspeople were gossiping about this time around.

“Not sure, he doesn’t seem like the type. Why not ask him, Paimon?”

Paimon flies in front of his face and places her hands on her hips, “You don’t just ask him! He’s so secretive and... and well just that! Also, Paimon thinks he’d just avoid the question.”

“You won’t know it’ll work if you never try.” Aether suggests and opens the door to the tavern. He himself actually wanted to know the truth to those rumors because, well think about it, it’s Diluc and any information that made him seem more emotional than he let on was interesting. He steps inside, seeing the people inside drinking and laughing. They all greet him with their cheerful, yet drunk replies, and Diluc nods his head in acknowledgement.

“Welcome back. What’ll it be for tonight?” He asks them. Aether places his drink order and Paimon hovers over the bartender with a judging look on her face. Convenient that he is working tonight. He raises a brow, “Can I help you?”

“U-Uh,” she turns her attention to Aether who simply looks back at her and sips his apple cider vinegar, a look of you’re on your own for this one on his face. “Have you heard what’s being said around Mondstadt, Master Diluc?” She asks in a way to slowly lead into the main question. Diluc picks up a glass and shakes his head, turning around to place the item on one of the shelves.

“I’ve never paid attention to gossip if that’s what you’re referring to. And like I’ve said before,” he eyes the emergency ration suspiciously, “I don’t dwell on idle chat.” Those words, while they weren’t intended to be as cold as they sounded, prevented Paimon from pressing on. She pouts while flying, but her gaze lands on his hands. They are void of his usual gloves and Diluc wore them even while working. She brushes it off as a useless observation and the door of the tavern opens.

“Evening!” Charles greets them. He waves a hand to Diluc who finishes the last of the glasses he is cleaning, silently thanking the bartender for taking the rest of his shift. He walks out the back and Paimon floats up.

“Does he have something else to do? He usually stays for the rest of the night.” She questions Charles who shakes his head in amusement.

“He must be working hard,” Charles comments, “or maybe taking some time for himself.” Paimon perks up at what he says and she looks at Aether. The traveller finishes his drink and narrows his eyes at her.

“What?” He barely gets another word in before she is rushing out the door. “Paimon!” He places mora on the counter and bids Charles a good night before following her. The door swings open and Aether is met with Paimon flying in front of his face.

“We’ll follow him!” She states confidently, a glint in her eyes.

Aether stares at her blankly. “Uh, why?” Again, she doesn’t give him an answer when she sees a flash of red hair behind his head. They keep quiet and hide behind the stone building when they see Diluc look side to side, almost catching them in his sight.

“He’s definitely going somewhere!” She is much more invested in this than Aether thought, but his own curiosity was overpowering the possibility of getting caught by the pyro user as well. He wordlessly agrees and they quietly tread behind him through Mondstadt, hiding behind every pole and wall whenever they thought he believed someone was following him.

Minutes into their mission Aether catches sight of the Knight of Favonius building and his suspicions are raised. Diluc wouldn’t be caught dead near this place, what more just by walking by it? He stops at the side and Aether tugs his hovering companion away from Diluc’s line of sight when it opens, a familiar person stepping out.

“It’s--!”

“Honorary Knight!” Huffman interrupts Paimon’s exclamation as he rushes to the both of them. “Would you be able to help us out near Windrise? Quite a lot of slimes showed up and the other knights are preoccupied with their own missions. I know you just got back but...”

“We’re good!” Another knight shows up, running to them, “Captain Kaeya helped us out!” Aether looks back and forth between then before looking at the door. It seems that the person and Diluc had already left.

“Ah, I see. Sorry to intrude on your evening.” Huffman excuses himself and leaves with the other knight. Paimon flies towards the empty stairs, floating around premises as if looking for clues.

“Paimon saw y/n! Do you think they’re together?” She questions.

“Isn’t that too much of an assumption?” Paimon floats to Aether’s face with mock anger on her features. “Maybe they could just be well-acquainted.”

“Let’s just see who’s right then! I bet...” she places a finger to her chin, “...5000 mora!”

“You don’t even carry mora.”

The commissions burned you out but you are more than happy to see what awaits you after you leave the building. Bidding Jean goodbye, you settle into your coat and push the doors open. He’s standing there waiting like he said he would and you notice there is no one around, though you had an inkling that someone was watching you. You are broken out of your thoughts when Diluc’s warm hand cups your face. He was initiating more touches after becoming comfortable in your relationship, so you felt happy that he could do so outside though with no one to see.

To you, it was hard to believe that you managed to attract him in the first place, considering his many suitresses, but despite that he insisted that it was you he was after.

“Something the matter?” He asks gently, removing his hand when he could hear steps behind him. You shake your head and smile at him causing his heart to warm at the sight. “Good, shall we?”

Your dates aren’t like the usual ones. You walk around the sides of Mondstadt when everyone is asleep as you both share what has gone on in your day. Sometimes, you even take a stroll outside the city and sit under the large tree in Windrise, watching the stars twinkle. Going on many secret rendezvous were fun and brought an excitement and mystery to both of your lives when they occured.

But even so, sometimes you wondered what it would be like if the townspeople knew.

Diluc never explicitly mentioned that he wanted the whole town to know and you both came to the conclusion that keeping your relationship from the public would be beneficial. He was known to be aloof yet protective of Mondstadt. He had a reputation to uphold and the enemies would otherwise have vital information to his weaknesses if they came to know of your connection.

You know he loves you, he tells you every night before you have to part until you see each other the next day. And any doubt in your mind is gone when your hand is held tightly in his.

“Paimon, we’ve been following them for too long. They’re just talking.” Aether felt uncomfortable doing what they were doing and spying on the both of you. He watches the both of you engage in a regualr conversation. After losing sight of you at the Knights of Favonious building they glided around trying to track you both. He couldn’t see that your hands were intertwined due to how your coat concealed it.

“Ahh! Fine, we should go rest,” Paimon says defeatedly, “Paimon can’t believe she lost 5000 mora!” Aether rolls his eyes and jumps down from the roof to head to a nearby inn. The streets are quiet but there are audible footsteps from their right as they move through the houses.

“Hey, it’s nice to see you back in town.” Kaeya greets him with the usual lilt to his voice. “Why are you two still up?”

“We were following Master Diluc because we think he’s seeing someone!” Paimon really has no shame, does she? Aether thinks to himself and he looks up at the Cavalry Captain when the latter lets out a light chuckle.

“What an interesting activity... I do hope you find your answer,” Kaeya nods his head to direct it behind them. Aether and Paimon follow his direction and see the two they had been trailing for the past hours. “Good night.”

“I almost forgot!” The duo’s ears perk at the sound of your voice. You and Diluc are at the front of your home and their eyes widen at the sight of your hand in his. You reach into your coat pocket to pull out his gloves, “You left them here.”

“Thank you,” Diluc replies, lifting the hand he held to his lips and kissing the back. “Good night, my love.”

“Good night, Diluc.” The smile on your face is ever radiant and he leans down for his kiss. You oblige but pull away to lean closer to his ear, “It seems that we have company.” Your hold leaves him and you open your door, disappearing inside. Diluc turns his head and sees the shocked faces of the traveller and ration.

“Paimon wins.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact headcannons #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact angst #genshin impact imagines #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc

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genshin-impact-writings · 3 years

Note

hi there! may i request small frappé with pumpkin spice and whipped cream? childe x reader ty! this is my first time requesting so i hope i didnt do this wrong!!

Heya, dear anon! Thank you so much for your request, it was perfect and i had a lot of fun writing this. So, here's your drink: A small frappé with pumpkin spice and whipped cream on top. Hope you enjoy! <3 (Reblogs are very much appreciated.)

Prompts: fluff, fake dating, “You’re not wearing that, are you?” + “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” (400 followers event: JJ's coffee shop)

Be mine – Tartaglia x gn!reader (fake dating!AU, fluff)

“You’re not wearing that, are you?”

With furrowed brows, you looked at Tartaglia. He was standing behind you, watching you as you turned in front of the mirror to get a better look at your outfit. “Why?” you asked, a hint of confusion echoing in your voice. “Is there something wrong? Is it too much?”

“No,” he replied, and a smile flashed over his face as he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. Resting his chin on your shoulder, he added, “It makes you look even prettier than you already are, to be honest. Everyone’s going to stare at you.” He nuzzled your cheek. “And I’m not sure if I like that thought.”

You felt your face growing hot at his words and tried to wriggle out of his hug. “Stop that,” you said with a sheepish grin. “No one’s here, there’s no need to act like we’re a couple.”

Tartaglia hummed in response and took a step back after releasing you from his hug, although he couldn’t deny that your words hurt him more than he liked to admit. He knew that you were right – the two of you weren’t really dating, after all. It was just a show you put on to stop your friends from constantly pestering you to finally find yourself a boyfriend. When you had asked him to pretend to be in a relationship with you for a while, Tartaglia hadn’t hesitated to help you. Up to this day, he hadn’t regretted it – well, a bit, maybe.

At first, it had been nothing more than a game and a secret the two of you shared – something that never failed to make you laugh when your friends weren’t around. But as the weeks passed, things had… changed. At least for him.

He had no idea how you felt about the whole situation, though. If you still thought about him as a friend or if his constant flirting did have some kind of effect on you… if you maybe had developed real, genuine feelings for him too. It was foolish, he knew that, but he couldn’t help but hold on to that thought whenever he saw you.

You watched him in the mirror, the way he stared into the distance absent-mindedly, his pretty blue eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He often had that look on his face when he thought you weren’t noticing it but whenever you brought the topic up, he always told you that you were imagining things before he quickly changed the subject.

That didn’t stop you from asking, though. You turned around to face him, your left arm slightly outstretched, almost as if your body couldn’t decide if you wanted to reach out for him or not. “Hey,” you said, your voice a lot softer than you initially intended. “What’s wrong?”

It was fascinating to see how his facial expression changed almost immediately, how he put on a smile that could have fooled anyone but you. “I was just thinking that you’re right,” he replied and shrugged. “About us, I mean. We’re not a couple when your friends aren’t around, and I’m sorry if my actions made you feel uncomfortable.”

You let out a surprised laugh. “What made you think I was uncomfortable? I just – I don’t know, I guess I wanted to say that there’s no need to pretend anything when we’re alone. It’s not necessary and I don’t want to bother you. Um…” You shook your head, annoyed by your own stammering. “You’re not making me uncomfortable. That’s what I was trying to say.”

You watched as his smile slowly transformed into a more honest one, and suddenly, there was this warm feeling welling up inside you again. It had happened a few times already, mostly when he looked at you like you were the most precious thing he had ever seen or when he hugged you like he had done earlier but you had never bothered yourself with thinking about it. After all, he only acted like that because you had an agreement with each other, not because he actually cared about you… at least not in that way.

And it was fine, although you couldn’t deny that a part of you had always wondered what it would be like to be in a real relationship with him. He could be reckless and even kind of belligerent sometimes, yes, but when he was with you, he seemed to be a completely different man – caring and considerate, always trying his best to make you smile when you were upset or sad. He was your best friend, the one you could always rely on, no matter what happened.

And sometimes, just like in this moment, he was the one who made your heart skip a beat without even knowing it.

“We should go,” you said, shaking your head once again to get rid of the confusing thoughts that had come to your mind. “The others are probably already waiting for us.”

On your way back home, you couldn’t stop thinking about something your best friend had said to you. Sometimes, you couldn’t help but wonder if they secretly knew that your relationship with Tartaglia wasn’t real but since you didn’t want to risk anything, you had decided to let sleeping dogs lie a while ago. Maybe they didn’t know it, anyway but something about the way they looked at you when they told you how happy you could be to have someone like him in your life, had suggested that they were well aware of your fake dating. “If you weren’t so cute together, I would be so jealous, really,” they had added with a grin, darting a glance at Tartaglia who had been joking around with one of your other friends at this point. “He’s awesome, (Y/N). Don’t mess this up, okay?”

The words were still echoing in your mind. How could you mess it up if everything wasn’t even real? Of course you knew what they were trying to say but at some point, you would have no other choice than messing everything up because you either had to tell your friends toe truth or act like you and Tartaglia had broken up. You couldn’t force him to play along forever, after all.

Sooner or later, he would find someone and fall in love for real, and then you would have to let him go, no matter how awful it felt to imagine him being with someone else. The thought hurt – and at the same time, it made you absolutely furious.

You stopped in your tracks, confused by the sudden anger that welled up inside of you when you thought about Tartaglia’s hypothetical future partner. Just because he would start to date someone, you definitely weren’t going to lose him; he would still be your friend. The only thing that would change was the fact that he would no longer act like he was head over heels in love with you.

And that was the moment it finally hit you.

The problem wasn’t that you were afraid of losing your friend. The problem was that you didn’t want him to fall in love with someone else – you wanted him to love you, actually love you, not just pretending like he had done for the past couple of weeks.

It was absolutely crazy, you knew that. He had agreed to fool your friends with you for a while because he thought it sounded like fun but actually developing feelings for each other hadn’t been a part of the deal. It had been completely out of the question, even.

Heck, why did everything have to become so complicated all of a sudden? Why did you have to fall for him? Everything he did, every hug, every kiss… all of that was part of your charade. He didn’t do it because he had romantic feelings for you.

Right?

You couldn’t help but remember the scene from earlier when he had hugged you in front of the mirror, implying that he’d be jealous if someone else would start to admire you. There had been no one around to see; he didn’t have to talk to you like that – and still, he had done it. And he had hugged you in a way that still made your heart beat faster.

Damn it. You needed to talk to him.

You needed to talk to him right now.

You turned around and rushed back to the restaurant where you had parted ways maybe fifteen minutes ago. He wasn’t there anymore but you knew that he sometimes went for a walk near the docks because he liked to listen to the sound of the waves, so you decided to look for him there.

It wasn’t too hard to find him – and as he spotted you approaching him through the crowd, a soft smile flashed over his face. “Did you miss me already?” he asked in a teasing tone that usually would have caused you to roll your eyes. But right now, it just made you feel more insecure.

“I need to talk to you,” you said. Admittedly, it wasn’t the smoothest conversation starter but you were way too nervous to bother yourself with being particularly eloquent in that moment. “About us.”

He raised his eyebrows. “About us?”

“About the whole situation,” you explained. “The relationship thing we have going on. I – I don’t think I can do this anymore. It just… it just feels wrong to pretend like we are dating when we’re not. I don’t know why I came up with that idea in the first place, it’s so stupid and I’m sorry for dragging you into this and-“

“Whoa, slow down, (Y/N),” Tartaglia interrupted you and furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about? I told you many times that I don’t mind helping you. I know your friends, I realize that they can be quite annoying when it comes to… well, your love life. You’re not taking advantage of me if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

You buried your face in your hands for a few seconds and let out a frustrated groan. “That’s not the reason I want to end this, Tartaglia,” you said. “I want to end it because it just feels wrong. We don’t love each other – we shouldn’t pretend that we do. It’s… it’s just not right.”

“Who says I don’t love you?”

You had expected every answer from him but not something like this. With wide eyes, you stared at him, searching his face for a sign that he was joking, that he was trying to fluster you like he already did a million times but his expression was unusually serious. “What?”

“Who says I don’t love you?” he repeated patiently. “You said it’s not right to pretend that we love each other. But the truth is that I’m not pretending anymore. So, it’s not wrong, is it?”

You couldn’t reply. Your thoughts were racing as your brain tried to comprehend what he had just told you but you felt like you weren’t able to think straight at all. Not when all you could think about was that he loved you.

Tartaglia stepped closer, gently cupping your face with his hands. “I love you,” he said, the tone of his voice so earnest that it send a shiver down your spine. “And I think that you may love me too, so if that’s the case could you please say something? Or – I don’t know, blink twice, maybe?”

“Shut up,” you said, finally snapping out of your state of shock. “Shut up and kiss me.”

Taglist: @blissmal, @aimicoos

#tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia genshin x reader #childe genshin x reader #tartagalia genshin impact #childe x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact imagines #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #fluff #fake dating!AU #genshin impact

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citrinesparkles · 3 years

Text

doctor todd.

jason todd x gender neutral vigilante!reader. 1,875 words. notes: requested by @jason-redhood as part of my hundred followers celebration! this got a lot longer than i intended, oopsies. thanks for requesting- hope you enjoy! warnings: tending wounds, mentions of food.

"y'know, lurking outside somebody's window is a good way to get yourself shot," jason called over his shoulder.

"i'll keep that in mind," you said, voice strained enough to shoot dread into his veins and draw his attention completely away from his work.

he set the gun he had been cleaning on the table and twisted around to find you gingerly sliding through the open window.

"hey," you mumbled, giving him a weak wave after your boots hit the floor. "sorry for not calling, i just..."

you were backlit, the glow of the city making it impossible to see your features from the dining area- but your posture alone was enough to have him shoving his chair back and crossing his apartment.

"how bad?" he asked, stopping a few steps back, now able to make out the tears in your suit and the bruises around your mask.

"pretty sure i sprained my wrist, and there's a poorly-bandaged gash on my leg, but otherwise i'm peachy."

"how bad's the leg?"

"i'm... not sure. bad enough that i think i need your help." you patted the windowsill with a gloved hand. "obviously."

he nodded and slid to your good side, gently resting a hand on your shoulder. "okay. c'mon, my stuff's in the bathroom."

"here." he handed you a pair of shorts and a large tank top. "change into this so i can get to the wounds, okay? i'll be right out here if you need anything."

"you're good!" you called.

he nudged the bathroom door back open and scooped your uniform up from the floor, carefully putting it in a canvas bag and tying the handles together before setting it in the tub to deal with later. "alright," he sighed, turning back to face you.

his clothes looked way too right on you, he realized, a wave of emotion he would vehemently deny surging through his chest and pushing heat to his neck and cheeks.

"alright?"

"okay. alright. uh-" he jerked a thumb at the counter- "up here, i guess, so i can see your leg."

you propped one foot on the toilet lid and braced your good hand against his shoulder, his hands instinctively coming up to hover around your waist as you pushed yourself up and settled next to the sink.

the grateful smile you gave him was enough to tug his lips into a smile of his own.

"you're up, doctor todd," you teased.

he stepped forward with a halfhearted eyeroll, fingers brushing the cloth tied hastily around your leg. "can i take this off?"

"go ahead."

he tugged gently at the knot, wincing when you inhaled sharply. "sorry."

the scrap fell away, revealing dried blood and an open wound on the outside of your thigh.

"yeesh, that is nasty," he said.

you scoffed lightly. "gee, thanks."

"hey, if you wanted a nice doctor, you probably should have gone somewhere else." he shifted to the side, grabbing a clean cloth and bottle of alcohol. "fair warning, you're really not gonna like me here in a minute."

your quick "i seriously doubt that." was greeted with a grin that felt a little too fond for his liking.

he told himself it was for your benefit.

...yeah, that sounded good.

he could live with that.

he made quick work of cleaning the gash, doing his best to distract you by making stupid small talk about the horrible movie he'd sat through that morning because the tv remote had been out of reach and the mediocre new coffee shop with dry blueberry muffins.

"was the coffee okay, at least?"

"okay, yeah, but not 'five-dollars-fifty' okay. if i hadn't been falling asleep in line i probably would have left when i saw the price."

"there's a nice one up by my place, they make the best blueberry muffins ever."

he hummed. "i'll keep that in mind, next time i'm over that way." he leaned back, studying your cut. "i think stitches would probably be smart."

you groaned. "of course they would."

"i'm okay to do them- i do them on myself- but if you want i can give you a lift to a hospital or something."

"no. if you can, i want you to do them. i trust you."

he sat with that for a minute, searching your face for any hesitation. when he found none, he nodded. "okay."

as you both expected, it sucked.

to make things worse, he was rapidly running out of mindless things to talk about.

how many times could two people really argue about pizza toppings before it got old?

"alright, done."

"holy shit, finally." you slumped back, leaning on your good hand for a moment before your head snapped back up. "no, not like- i meant thank you, you did great, i'm not being an ingrate-"

"i know, relax." he nudged your knee with a goofy smile. "here, gimme your wrist."

you pouted (which, yes, that was also adorable, much to his dismay), carefully stretching your bad arm out.

he took your hand gently, scooping it up in one of his and bracing your forearm up with his other. "it's actually not too bad, considering you hit hard enough to tear your glove. i'm gonna clean the scrapes here up, though, okay?"

"do i really get a choice?"

"it's your body, so, yeah."

you sighed dramatically. "fine, if you insist. go ahead, clean my wounds for me."

he was quiet this time, focusing intently on removing bits of dirt and stuff from your raw palm with a set of tweezers.

trying to ignore the way your eyes seemed to linger on him now that he was looking down.

he set the tweezers aside, glancing up at you to find you smiling at him thoughtfully, and dropped his gaze just as quickly as he had lifted it. "what, you enjoying making me do all the work?"

"you could say that, yeah."

he scoffed. "well, you're going to enjoy it a lot less in a second. time for the alcohol again."

"ugh."

he managed to dig up an old wrist brace in the back of his sock drawer. a little big for you, but it would work for now, he figured.

"may i?"

you nodded and held your arm back out for him to loop the brace over your thumb and tuck the velcro strap under and around, pulling it snug against your skin before sticking it to itself.

"last one, tough stuff." he pointed at your cheek, where a small patch of dried blood stained your skin. "ready?'

you nodded tiredly. "let's just get this over with. this counter isn't as comfortable as it looks."

he chuckled, dampening the softest cloth he had and wringing it out. "sorry, i didn't think i needed to get an apartment with counter cushions." he raised his left hand up, hovering an inch or so below your chin. "uh, can i..?"

your eyes widened, glancing at his hand. "oh, uh, sure. yeah."

he moved slowly, raising it to cup your chin softly with his middle and forefinger on one side and thumb on the other. "this okay?"

"mhm." your eyes slid shut and he could almost believe that you sank into his touch.

if it wasn't absolutely insane, anyway. his touch wasn't exactly the kind people sank into- much less people like you. people that good, that caring, that stunning? yeah, no.

he tilted your head to the side slightly, rubbing gentle circles across your cheekbone with the cloth and watching as the blood faded.

"so, who did this?" he asked softly, casually.

apparently not casually enough, though, because you snorted at him. "why, you think you need to go avenge me? defend my honor or something?"

"no! i'm just curious. just... making conversation."

your eyes opened, amusement dancing in them and threatening to hypnotize him. "good. i shouldn't have to tell you who won that fight, jay."

"well, i mean, you are missing a chunk of your thigh."

"aw, is the big bad vigilante worried about lil old me?"

he squeezed your face gently, pushing your cheeks up and forward into a goofy fish face. "it's rude to tease the guy tending to your wounds, babe."

he definitely didn't imagine your breath hitching. "babe, huh?" you asked playfully.

"shut up," he grumbled. "don't make me regret helping."

"alright, looks like that's the last scrape. you're all cleaned up."

"thanks, jason." you smiled up at him, soft and warm and genuine. "i really appreciate this."

"yeah, yeah." he squeezed your jaw again. "try not to make it a habit."

"mhm." a moment passed quietly before you spoke quietly. "so, you gonna do something here, or can i have my face back?"

he froze.

your mouth- which he was really trying not to look at- shifted into a confident smirk, a challenge written clearly in the angle of your lips.

your eyes, bright under the harsh lighting, told a different story. one of vulnerability, and want, and something close to fear.

"do you want me to?" his voice was hoarser than he'd intended, and he swore you could hear his heartbeat echoing in it.

your gaze dipped to his lips. "would it make everything super weird?"

"you just came crawling through my window in the middle of the night in a mask and kevlar. i think things are already weird."

he felt your hum under his fingers. "then why not?"

"do you really want me to answer that?"

"jason, will you please just kiss me already?"

"well, you did say please." he leaned in slowly, giving you every opportunity to slip away or yell 'sike!'

all you did was bring your good hand up to his collar and pull him towards you.

your lips were soft and gentle, and the way they pulled upwards slightly when his hand slid from your jaw to cup your cheek was something he'd be thinking about for weeks.

when he eventually pulled back, it took him a moment to open his eyes. he was half convinced that if he did, it would be to his bedroom ceiling, the past half an hour all a dream.

instead, he found your fond gaze.

"finally."

he let out a huff of laughter, thumb running over your cheek. "you should stay here tonight."

"w-"

"not like that," he clarified quickly. "you have stitches, you shouldn't go leaping across rooftops tonight. i can take the couch."

"hm." you smoothed out his shirt collar, the barely-there brush of your fingers against his shoulder almost tugging a whine out of him. "or i can take the couch, and then you can take me home in the morning and let me treat you to an actual blueberry muffin."

"are you asking me out?" it was a teasing comment, paired with a tiny smirk meant to fluster you.

but it was also a reality check.

you seemed to catch the second meaning. "yeah, i am. would you, please, let me take you out on a date?"

"i'll have to check my calenda-"

"you're so full of it."

"yeah, probably."

"is that a yes?"

he laughed, bringing his other hand up to squeeze your knee. "yeah, i can let you take me on a date. i could use a good muffin."

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yukidragon · 3 years

Text

Our Life Snippet - Spoiling Dinner

So... been a while since I shared a slice of my fan novelization of Our Life: Beginnings and Always, hasn’t it? A whole month in fact. Yikes! Don’t worry, I’m still working on it, just, ya know, chronic illness. I’ve been getting less spoons to work with these past few weeks. Don’t be surprised if the next clip takes another month to appear.

Anyhoo, onto the clip itself. I figure why not show off some more drama from Step 2? It was referenced in the Adrift snippet that Jamie chose their thirteenth summer to be the time to reveal the big deal Cliff offered her to Cove, so I figured why not give a peek at that? So here’s another slice of Step 2′s moment, Dinner.

As always, thank you to everyone who enjoys reading my work and giving me such lovely feedback, especially the game’s lovely creators @gb-patch. I can’t thank you all enough for encouraging me to keep working on this self-indulgent little fan project.

...

Despite the fact that Cove and Elizabeth had never been friends, and it was rare they even really got along, it was always interesting to see and hear about how Jamie interacted with her big sister. The relationship Jamie and Elizabeth had was always something he could never quite get a grasp on.

“I can’t even imagine what it’d be like to have a sibling,” he admitted after a moment.

Jamie took some time to give serious thought to that statement. It was a tricky thing to explain to someone without a point of reference. A sibling relationship wasn’t anything like a parental one, and it wasn’t really like making friends with a kid who just happened to live in the same house either.

It was also hard for Jamie to want to touch on a topic that would bring the mood down. Still, Cove did remind her recently that he wanted to listen to her problems…

“It’s complicated,” Jamie eventually concluded. She took her time to choose her words with care as she focused her gaze on the tank again, though she didn’t really watch the fish this time. “I love Elizabeth, and when we were really little, we were best friends. Then she started making friends at school like Shiloh and, well… It’s just over time, I guess we just grew apart. She’s still a lot of fun to be around, but only when she wants to be there.” Her voice quieted a little. “But now, she barely feels like hanging out with me.”

Cove couldn’t think of how to respond right away as he grew aware of the melancholy that had settled over his best friend. He knew Jamie and Elizabeth didn’t spend all that much time together, but he hadn’t realized it was something that bothered Jamie. He took his time to consider what to say, pursing his lips as he tried to figure out the best way to help Jamie with something he never had to deal with before.

“Maybe you should talk to her about how you feel about it sometime,” Cove suggested, though with an uncertain note to his voice. He couldn’t even imagine how that talk might go. “If it’s really bothering you, I’m pretty sure Elizabeth would wanna know.”

Jamie considered that before shaking her head a little. “It’s fine. It’s not really that big a deal. Besides, I don’t think that’d really work.” She favored Cove with a bent smile. “I mean, this is Elizabeth we’re talking about here.”

Cove had to admit Jamie had a point there. Although not intentionally malicious, Elizabeth did have a tendency to overlook other peoples’ feelings when it came to doing what she wanted. “I guess you’re right about that.”

Jamie turned to face Cove properly as she strengthened her smile, feeling compelled to soften the awkward atmosphere she had created. “Don’t worry about it. Having a sibling is still pretty great anyway.” She playfully nudged him with her elbow. “And besides, I already have the most amazing best friend in the entire world by my side.”

Cove felt warmth fill his cheeks at that, and he nudged Jamie back softly in return with a shy smile of his own. “I feel the same way.”

Jamie relaxed a bit now that the mood had returned to something more jovial. “And in case you were wondering what it’s like to have two moms, it’s absolutely the best.”

Cove nodded. Even if Elizabeth could be a challenge to get along with at times, he had always known Noelani and Pamela to be friendly and encouraging, if a bit strict with their rules. The Leimomi family were overall probably the best neighbors he ever had, especially Jamie. “That’s… interesting. I think your family is cool.”

Jamie flashed Cove a grin, glad he agreed. It was impossible not to feel like she hit the jackpot when it came to the family that she ended up with. She couldn’t consider having better parents, or even a better sibling.

Of course, talking about parents brought Jamie’s mind back to the dinner she was going to have with Cove and his. Things were weird between the three of them in ways she didn’t know how to touch on.

The little surprise Cliff pulled at the beginning of summer had just made things even more strained. Things felt tense in a way that reminded Jamie of when Cove first moved to Sunset Bird.

That line of thought brought Jamie back to the first time she met Cliff and the deal he had offered her.

Jamie glanced at Cove out of the corner of her eye, noticing that he had gone back to looking at his fish. He probably never learned that ever happened. She doubted that Cliff ever mentioned it, and as for her…

It bothered her. The incident hung over her head for the past five years, popping up in her mind at awkward moments that left her feeling guilty despite the fact that she never took the twenty dollars Cliff had offered her.

When Jamie was little, she held the secret back from Cove for fear that he might decide not to be her friend anymore. He resented being pressured into becoming friends with Lizzie and Shiloh, so he never did. Granted, that was more because he just didn’t click with either of them than due to parental meddling, but still… In her eight-year-old mind, she was convinced that if Cove ever learned that Cliff wanted to pay her to be his friend, he would be so upset that he would never want to see her again.

That fear had disappeared over time as their relationship grew stronger, but that didn’t make the subject trouble her any less.

Jamie was keeping a secret from Cove - a big one. Usually, they told each other everything from silly jokes to their darkest thoughts. The only other thing she kept from him was just how deep her feelings were for him, and she already had a plan in motion for how she was going to tell him about that.

Much like with her crush, Jamie had sought out Lee’s advice about the incident with the twenty dollars. Her cousin had encouraged her to just tell Cove about it, if only because it bothered her for so long and wouldn’t stop haunting her.

Besides, Cove deserved to know that his dad did something like that behind his back. This incident with Kyra proved that Cliff was still pulling stunts like this, and not just on him.

Jamie knew that if the positions were reversed, she would want to know the truth about something as big as this, and as soon as possible.

It had been five years. They weren’t eight anymore. Telling Cove wouldn’t destroy their friendship.

She had to tell him.

Jamie placed her hands on the mattress to steady herself, drawing one back into her lap when she accidentally brushed it against Cove’s thigh. The unintended touch drew his gaze back to her - she could feel it even through her closed eyes. She took in a deep, steadying breath as she prepared herself.

The quiet that had settled between them was comfortable, Cove thought, finding it a sharp contrast to the uneasy atmosphere that had overtaken his home since the beginning of summer. Jamie’s presence made things easier on him - it always did.

That was why Cove didn’t expect to see Jamie looking so tense all of a sudden. He could tell that she was building herself up for something, but he couldn’t imagine what. When she opened her eyes and looked at him, her expression was solemn and tainted with nervousness.

“Cove,” Jamie said before pausing to wet her lips. “There’s something… I-I have something important to tell you. Something… something you’re not gonna like.”

The undercurrent of unease to the way Jamie spoke troubled Cove almost as much as what she said. He turned to give her his full attention, his knees bumping against hers in the process. “What is it?”

For a moment, Jamie could only stare into her best friend’s ocean blue eyes. Cove waited patiently for her to find her voice again, but the longer it took her, the greater the tension grew. She could see it in the way his brow furrowed and his lips curled down into a frown.

Please don’t get mad about this, Jamie thought desperately, feeling as though her stomach was tying itself in knots. She was already regretting her decision, but she had already said too much; she couldn’t just drop the topic as if it never happened. She had to take another deep breath to steady her nerves as they started to fray on her.

“It’s… um… it’s about way back when you moved here,” Jamie finally said, practically forcing the words out. “Before we met, I actually met your dad first and…” She started to falter as what she wanted to say started to fall apart in her mind, and she scrambled to right herself. “It was… your dad he… um, well…”

Jamie had to pause to gulp down another lungful of air, feeling as though there suddenly wasn’t enough around her.

Cove started bracing himself for whatever Jamie was struggling to tell him. The more she spoke, the more nervous she grew, and it was making him anxious as well, impressing upon him the seriousness of what she wanted to tell him.

Whatever this was, it was big, and he needed to be ready to deal with it.

“Your dad offered me twenty dollars to be friends with you.”

The words came out of Jamie in a rush then hung so heavily in the air between them that the already thick atmosphere turned suffocating.

Cove locked up. For a moment he couldn’t move, couldn’t even think. What Jamie told him made everything else disappear.

His dad… bribed Jamie to be his friend?

Jamie held her breath as she waited for Cove to respond. He sat still, so utterly still. He was no longer looking at her, but through her, as if she ceased to exist. His face, always so easy for her to read, was uncharacteristically devoid of expression.

Then Cove was moving. He said nothing as he rose from the bed before bolting from the room.

For a moment, Jamie froze up as well. Shock kept her rooted to the bed even after Cove disappeared around the corner.

This was… oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no!

Jamie tore after Cove once she could move again, panic giving her feet wings. “Cove!”

Cove didn’t hear Jamie. He didn’t even hear his parents as they bantered while setting the table, oblivious to what was happening. All he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears as he reached the living room.

For a moment, Cove could only stand there and glare at his father. His entire body was a tense coil, ready to spring. His hands faintly shook from how tightly he clenched them into fists at his sides.

Although Jamie caught up to Cove, she froze again just short of him. She didn’t need to see his face to know exactly what he was feeling - he was furious.

“Hey, what’s up?” Kyra asked as she finished setting down the last glass on the table. “When did you start running in the house?”

Cliff flashed Cove a wink as he wagged the spoons he carried at his son. “Are you that famished?”

The friendly banter didn’t register with Cove at all. There was room for nothing else inside his mind but the betrayal he felt towards his father that sent his entire body quaking with rage.

It had only just begun to hit Cliff and Kyra that something was wrong when Cove took a step forward.

“You paid Jamie to be friends with me?!” Cove shouted as he glared daggers straight into his father’s widening eyes.

Cliff froze, the spoons dropping from his hands onto the table with a clatter. He looked like a helpless deer caught in the headlights of a speeding semi.

Kyra recovered from the shock first, and rounded on her ex-husband. “Clifford!” she shouted as outrage overtook her as well. “Are you serious?!”

Out of reflex, Cliff turned his wide eyes to Kyra, blinking at her rapidly. “It was only one time!”

The blurted admission left Kyra reeling back, aghast.

Cliff raised his hands up in a defensive gesture, his eyes darting between his ex-wife and his son as they both stared him down. “I-it seemed like a good idea when it happened.”

As the shock waned, Kyra brought a hand over her eyes. Her jaw was set, her patience frayed, as anger slowly gave way to disappointment.

Cliff bowed his head as he rubbed the back of his neck, almost shrinking in on himself before their eyes. The fact that Kyra accepted that he would do something like this so easily was the most crushing part.

For all his anger, Cove had nothing else he could say to his father after his initial outburst. He could only stand there, fuming silently during his parents’ short exchange. The tension in his body was so strong it was painful, his eyebrows furrowed hard and his eyes trembling as he continued to glare at his father.

That was all Cliff had to say for himself? That he ‘only’ did it once? That it ‘seemed like a good idea’? What part of this could be considered ‘good’ at all?!

Jamie could only watch helplessly from the sidelines at the disaster she had created. She had been afraid that Cove might be angry or hurt to hear about the deal his dad offered to her, but he took it far worse than she ever imagined. That wasn’t even going into how badly Kyra or Cliff were feeling about it all.

Jamie felt so bad for Cove. She wished for the power to rewind time to five minutes ago so that she could choose to just keep her big mouth shut. Having a stupid secret about something she didn’t even agree to hanging over her head was nothing compared to the pain that she had inflicted on her best friend and his family.

Everything was horrible, and it was all her fault.

#Our Life Beginnings & Always #Our Life #ourlifeba #Cove Holden #Jamie Last #Jamie Leimomi #Cliff Holden #Kyra Preece #My Writing

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ellsbclls · 3 years

Note

" wow... you look... you look amazing. " for peter please? i love love love ur writing btw!

NOTE: This... ended up so embarrassingly long... i don't even know what the word count is, but i can bet it's a good 20%-30% longer than the average blurb.

WARNINGS: cursing, quirky🤪 mentions of drug use, implied making out (but can be perceived as sex, dear god please don’t perceive it as sex though), and some good ol’ fashion stark!ready x peter parker banter

They say, "never meet your heroes." Well, Peter wished he had adhered to that warning before he ended up here — a lanky, overdressed thumb towering high above the roof of the Avenger's Compound.

A semi-annual assembly of New York City's finest heroes that had little to do with their civic duties, and much to do with their inhibitions, and just how much alcohol it would take to release them — but there was one glaring problem.

Peter didn't drink.

He never saw the allure, especially when it came at such a high risk. He'd convinced himself that he refrained for the sake of Aunt May, the only remaining part of his family who put her life on the line to ensure his safety and overall well-being — the Spider-Man reveal already took some getting used to, he didn't need to add drunken night expenditures to her overnight fretting. Yet, when Flash's 'End of the Year' party had been raided by the police, a small part of him found joy in knowing he needn't fear the police or their breathalyzer test, even if he was deemed Pussy Parker for the remainder of that summer.

Even if he wanted to instill some liquid courage into himself, he hadn't the basic courage to let himself be vulnerable like that, in front of all the adults that made up the Avengers. Mr.Stark had already commented on his only suit, and how small he looked as it swamped his form, and the entire altercation made him wish the roof would just open up and swallow him whole.

Bullies, you'd call them.

There they were, New York's finest Defender's, huddled around the Mastrangelo like it couldn't put their entire life savings to shame, hosting a rousing game of beer pong upon its marble exterior. Your father was lucky your mother was still in Milan, tying up loose ends on a new line of bullshit you didn't concern yourself with. You just counted the days until she returned home, and you could soak up every ounce of her nurturing presence.

God, did you miss her.

It’s not like your father wasn’t just as nurturing, competitively so, to a point were you almost felt smothered — but you were too alike. In spaces where you both held too stubborn, your mother was there to mediate, and with ceaseless barrages of dry humor came her firm, unwavering severity, proving her love with candid remarks instead of jesting quips.

“Oh, free intern!” He dragged you from your nostalgic supercut with your endearing nickname, coaxing a fierce glare from your hues. “Run down to that place on 7th street and get some beer? And not that Miller Coor’s Bud bullshit, the upper echelon on Sigma Delta Nu delicacies.”

Jesus Christ.

You had caught glimpses of his argument with Steve, complaining about how stupid it would be to pour anything top shelf into a red solo cup — blasphemous really — but you didn’t expect him to do anything more than concede.

"Father of the year, everybody." You clapped just above your head, prompting the remaining company to join you. "I think you're forgetting that I'm not twenty-one."

"First and foremost, I know I am," Tony counters your triumphant grin with a sarcastic one. "Which is how I know that your fake ID says 21."

"Stark, it's fine. I can grab the beer," You thanked God and her impeccable timing once Steve interrupted, settling himself between the two of you with outstretched palms. "I could use the fresh air anyway."

You mimicked Steve's stance, cocking your brows toward your father. "See? Problem solved. Now leave me alone."

Losing interest in the company exponentially, you started to retreat, but groaned once your father's voice pierced the air again. "Nuh-uh-uh, Rogers. Why? So you can go to the nearest GNC and snort a container of protein powder? I don't think so."

You retreat to the furthest recesses of your mind as Tony and Steve bicker back and forth about honesty and friendly competition. Steve wouldn't know how to bump a rail if the U.S Army assembled a thorough, interactive training course on it, and his age quadrupled the life expectancy of most snow-packed socialites. Yet, on the other hand, you were shocked that your father even knew what a GNC was — ultimately, you were riled from your thoughts by an irksome realization.

"Are you fucking- Why can't old man Jenkins do it?" you gestured wildly toward the enhanced super soldier in question, blind to the obvious offense scrawled across his features. You seldom took your opulent lineage for granted, but when situations such as these presented themself, a selfish corner of your mind wondered what it would be like to have a run-of-the mill, cheesy-pun equipped, golf short wearing father. "You'd rather risk your daughter's own safety, and the sanctity of her criminal record, for a stupid game of beer pong?"

Natasha's incredulous laughter chimed between your incessant back and forth, spurred by the uncanny resemblance you and your father shared between every aspect imaginable — your dry wit just so happened to be in the spotlight.

"Yes," He didn't bother to meet your glare, already familiar with its scorching beam against the side of his face "Yes I would."

Hues practically rolled into the back of your skull, exaggerating your every move to a thespian level to make it clear, to even the boniest of heads, that you didn't take pleasure in this task. You were so excited to finally unwind at this event — slam down the sugary mocktail your Uncle Thor always "forgot" to order virgin, dangle your feet over the shallow end of the pool, maybe even shoot a few low jests at Bucky if there wasn't a carnal gleam in his eyes.

Your thrilling plans were now put on hold just to support your father's mid-life crisis.

"I know, I know." He tried to repeat the name of the wine stop n’ shop, only for you to wave him off. He wasn’t wrong — you had been abusing your fake ID in that very stop n’ shop for years, though you’ve recently come to the conclusion that the cashier was far more interested in your chest than your credentials. "If I get arrested, I'm bring you down with me. I'll tell Business Insider that FRIDAY's just one, big elaborate ruse for the underground Fake ID business you have on the side. They'll eat it up like-"

"Love you, honey! I'll venmo you!" He butt in, sending you off with a wave of his fingers.

You flipped him off, shouting an earnest 'I love you' in return. There was no denying that you loved each other, some would even argue that he loved you more than he loved himself — you just chose to show it in your own, eccentric way.

Mere seconds into your newfound task, you stopped dead in your tracks. You could make out that bed of chestnut locks anywhere.

"Parker?" Swiftly surveying his frumpy attire, you struggled to stifle the upward tilt of your lips. Even as he stood uncomfortably before you, visibly seconds away from crawling out of his own skin, he still managed to be the sweet, endearing Peter you knew and loved. "God, I didn't even realize that was you."

You didn't have the heart to tell him that you caught one fleeting glimpse of him at the very beginning of the festivities and thought he was a part of the catering company, nor did you feel a need to disclose the snide remark you whispered into your father's ear about the miserable staff. There was no sense in kicking a dead horse while it was already down.

His gaze weighed heavy against your frame, though, bolstered by an overwhelming intensity that forced you to wonder if he could read your mind. Though, if you could tap into his thoughts, you'd be shocked to find a reflection of your own — bewilderment, adoration, the tell-tale signs of a burgeoning crush, and the myriad of excuses that disputed them.

He could only manage to stumble over his words, complimenting you with sentiments that could never amount to the emotions welling in his chest. "Wow... you look... you look amazing."

And you couldn't argue, not with the way you were pampered hours prior. Mercier had smothered your hair in this honey-infused serum that made your curls bounce to life with each step, and the custom Jacquemus silhouette you were sporting hugged every ample curve enticingly so. You felt like a million bucks, and you probably cost that much give or take, so why deny it?

Peter, on the other hand — Well, he was very lucky that he was so cute, and his jawline could probably cut Vision's infinity stone straight out of his skull. It almost made up for the tragic shape of his suit, and just how tragically out of place it was at this event.

"You look, um-" Softness tugged at the corner of your eyes as they crinkled dotingly. "You look very cute."

"That was a very convincing half-truth." He chuckled, a subtle pink hue blooming over the valleys of his cheeks."

"Oh, so a part of you knows you're cute." You teased, enjoying the way the pink hue grew deeper.

"Oh! Oh, no... No, I mean, kind of? On the scale of confident perspectives, I think-uh-cute... Cute is on the lower end? And you know what? My Aunt May-"

"Peter, you wanna get out of here?" You interrupted him, hoping to save him from all the words he had yet to stumble over. "And then immediately come back?"

"Yeah," He vigorously nodded his head, despite being equally as confused. "Yeah, I'd like that a lot."

"Come," You offered your hand, a small gesture the two of you have woven into your complicated relationship.

You'd tend to straddle a very thin line between friendship and something more, reaping all the warm, tentative affections of newfound lovers without explicitly considering yourselves so. The both of you, for as brilliant as your merits show, continued to convince yourselves that the hand holding, the comfortable silences, the mornings plastered against each other's sides, were simply happenstance. Despite the increasing willingness of each encounter, you'd only ever chalk it up to chance. So when you offered your hand out to him, he took it in stride — because the two of you would indulge in every ounce of attention you could get your hands on, at least until one of you inevitably came to your senses and found someone worth your time.

Your fingers were firmly intertwined as you led him to the roof’s exit, tugging him down the staircase and through the vacant halls of the top floor just in time to catch the elevator. You found no reason to keep his hand hostage once you were inside, so you begrudgingly retracted yours. You swore you could hear a pitiful huff come from his side of the elevator, but you chalked it up to wishful thinking.

Now it was just you and Peter, left to your own devices, and roughly ninety-two floors away from your destination. Just enough time to do what you were aching to do.

“Peter,” You murmured, and his gaze flickered to your own without a moment of hesitation, drenched in a hopeful haze you failed to decipher.

“Y/N?” He echoed, tilting his body toward your own.

“You look...” You paused, unsure of which word accurately portrayed your thoughts. ”insane.”

“I know.” He whined. You tried to stifle the giggle that bubbled at his hopeless demeanor, brows furrowed together as he squeezed his eyes shut, shoulders slumped impossible low.

“It’s a good thing you have such a charitable friend.” And you made light work of his suit jacket, the air suddenly rapt with a thick air of electricity as you worked the offending article off his shoulders, haphazardly tossing it on the ground. Protests formed on the tip of his tongue, but he opted to swallow them in return for your help, going slack when you ran your fingers through his meticulously gelled hair.

Though he embodied the vision of a suave, debonair socialite alarmingly well, with his carefully quaffed locks, nothing suited him as well as the pillowy, fawn tendrils that made up his soft curls. You needed them back, needed a reminder of your sweet, darling boy, and patience was never your strong suit.

You wondered if he was in need of the same reminder, seeing as he’d let you manhandle him without so much as a hum of discontent.

All done. Only a few revisions, and he was a completely different boy. Clad in a crisp, white shirt, sans its horrifying grey counterpart, you rolled the sleeves up to his elbows and unbuttoned the top three discs. The fabric was taut against his impressive set of muscles, leaving little to the imagination with each sweeping roll of his arms. You’d pat yourself on the back, but you were too busy drooling all over your work.

“Is- Is this good?” He broke the silence with a tentative query, peering back at you through his lashes.

"Yeah,” You voice came out strangled at best, distracted by the flurry of butterflies ravaging your stomach. There was something about this moment — maybe it was the glint of tenderness ridding his gaze, or your tight proximity, or maybe it was fate, finally persuading you to topple over that dangerous line — but regardless, you decided it was now or never. “but there's still something missing,"

“My jacket?” He breathlessly queried. His eyes frantically searched your face, like he couldn’t settle on just one feature to admire.

“No, no...” You breathed back, cautiously inching closer, until there was only a sliver of space separating your chests. "You need to loosen up, Parker."

“And what- What do you suggest I do?” His gaze flickered down to your lips shamelessly, and returned just as quickly.

“Do you trust me?”

“I’ve trusted you this far.”

“Good,” You sighed, your breath fanning over his lips before you greedily chased its warmth, kissing him with such feather-light pressure, it almost felt like a dream — a thrilling, delicate dream. You had to tear yourself from his lips before you delved even deeper, hoping to find a mirror image of your relief, your satisfaction, in his own features. However, before your eyes even fluttered open, his palms swept under the curve of your jaw, and coaxed your mouth back to his, instantly qualming any of your fears as you both melted into the exchange. He tasted of spearmint, and cherries, and something so intoxicatingly him that you could barely restrain yourself.

You wanted him, God, did you want him, and for the first time, someone wanted you just as much, without an ounce of greed to it — He wanted you for you.

The remaining seconds of the elevator ride were filled with fervent kisses, and wandering hands, your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck while his bunched the silky fabric of your dress. It was all smitten, indulgent brushes of your lips until the elevator dinged, and the doors opened up to reveal the fashionably late, dynamic duo —Sam Wilson and James Buchanan Barnes.

Their expressions were nothing short of priceless, one complexion green while the other ran pale at the sight of your interwoven limbs. You tried to open your mouth before they could comment, but you were far too late, buried in a booming wall of—

"This is a public space! You are defiling a public space!"

"I can't do this— I'm gonna take the stairs."

Their voices weaved into a messy, irritated harmony of disbelief, managing to still complement each other despite their varying levels of urgency.

An idea, a selfish, evil idea, popped into your head, and you enacted it before you could even unravel yourself from Peter’s hold.

"You just reminded me, I was about to text you! My dad needs a couple cases of Yuengling.” You gestured for Peter to press on the “Open Door” button, and by the time he started clicking the prompt, you’d already fetched your wallet, fishing your card out for Sam. “They probably have some at the corner store, but he’ll throw up if he finds out he was drinking alcohol from the corner store, so you’re gonna have to walk down to that market on Seventh.” You could feel Peter’s perplexed gaze gnaw at your shoulder, but you persisted in your impish pursuits, shoving the AmEx into his hand.

“Chop chop, lover boys!” You hastily snapped your fingers in his direction, and yelled just loud enough to make sure Bucky accompanied him, parsing their punishment out evenly.

Served them right, encroaching on such a perfect moment.

Bucky’s groan echoed through the stairwell, followed by a childish stomp of combat boots, and you were pleased enough to shoo Peter’s hand away, pressing the “Close Door” button.

Sometimes it was nice being Tony Stark’s daughter — less backtalk from the sovereign throne of comebackdom.

“I thought you said we were getting out of here.” His brows were pinched together, the most adorable little frown forming between them.

“Oh, we most certainly are,” You replied, pressing the button for your floor. You could tell that the pieces weren’t clicking all the way, and you proceeded to spell it out for him, dropping a chaste kiss to the spot just below his ear. “We’re gonna go to my room. And then we’re gonna go right back to the party when we’re done.”

“When we’re done?” He mused, voice wavering beneath the soft caress of your lips, scattering even more tentative kisses down the column of his neck.

“When we’re done.” You parroted back, meeting his downward gaze through your lashes.”I think you still have some loosening up to do.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker blurb #peter parker oneshot #peter parker x stark!reader #3K ????????????#3?????????#K??????????#IDK HOW I GOT HERE #MOM PICK ME UP IM S C A RED?????#idk i think there's just something about stark!ready x peter parker that just gets me going #mine*

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weirdlittlecorner · 3 years

Text

Lin Kuei Hospitality: Sektor

Notes: nsfw, 18+, rough, dominant MC

Plot: Sektor gets on a lot of people's nerves. Nothing a little cloth can't fix

Tags: @lilliannmac @onesillybeach @icy-spicy

It was an easy choice. Once the Grandmaster had given you the go-ahead to pick your gift, your eyes instantly settled on the most curious of the men. The one who took to copying the monarch himself. You were attracted to that long, black hair and the bulging muscles. But what really solidified your choice was that face of his. Or, rather, the expression on it. The other men had kept their expressions neutral, their gazes fixated ahead of them as you made your rounds. But when you had passed over the man in red, he took it as an invitation to conduct an exam of his own. His brown eyes trailed you when you came near as if you were a gift for him. And that tiny smirk that he gave you didn’t help his case, either.

A spark of feistiness flared within you as you returned the judgemental gaze, “I suppose you’ll do,” You snapped.

The tension in the room was tangible. The others were amused by your standoff with who you would soon come to find out was the spoiled brat of the clan. Your target huffed, turning toward the Grandmaster as if seeking assistance. But he was only met with a stern warning from the older man, “Miss L/n is our guest. You will not disappoint me, Sektor,”

It was hard to keep a straight face as the overgrown child- Sektor- crumbled under the Grandmaster’s words, “Of course not, Father,” Father? It all made sense now. The similar clothing, and more notably, the arrogance. Being the child of the closest thing to royalty would surely go to anyone’s head. He clearly had some sort of attitude problem and needed a lesson in humility. You would happily oblige.

After the impromptu scolding, the younger man turned his attention back to you. Without another complaint, he separated from his fellow assassins in favor of following you out of the throne room.

“You’re getting on my nerves already. I’d like you better if you just shut your mouth,” You snapped, your teeth grinding in annoyance. In the span of ten minutes, Sektor had already managed to push all your buttons. And not in a good way.

“I will do nothing of the sort,” He snapped back without hesitation. You were starting to question your decision and wondered if it was too late to exchange the man. No, you couldn’t do that, as you didn’t want to look ungrateful. Especially not when it was the Grandmaster’s own son. This was a strange situation already; it would be best not to make it worse.

So you settled on one more attempt at reasoning with the clan’s golden child, “Try. It might do you some good,” This was supposed to be pleasurable for you, after all. It was silent for a moment, and you grew smug at the fact that the man hadn’t been able to come up with a witty response. But while you did expect some type of attitude, you hadn’t expected what the man in question actually said next.

“Make me.”

Wait-... What? That took you aback, and your resolve momentarily crumbled as you looked at him. And he looked dead serious, too...

Well, you had promised yourself that you would correct that attitude of his.

Positioning yourself behind him, you untied the f/c sash that secured your tunic, “What are you-” But you had already placed the fabric over his mouth, tying it securely at the back of his head. That was much better. He grew sexier now that he was silent. Now that you didn’t have to listen to his sarcastic droning, you could actually get on to using your present. Proud of your work, you walked back around to face the man.

Upon feeling your form looming over him, Sektor sunk down to his knees, hands clasped behind his back. A h/c brow arched in surprise, but soon your expression turned to one of mischief. He must’ve been partial to being submissive. The thought intrigued you, to say the least. While having been on top a few times in previous experiences, you had never actually dominated your partner. But what better time to try it out than now? Especially on someone as arrogant as the Grandmaster’s son. He needed to be taken down a notch. Or two.

“You like it when a woman is in control, don’t you?” You asked rhetorically, to which he nodded, his brown eyes boring into your e/c ones. There was no question that you could have some fun with this. Taking hold of the red sash on his uniform, you snatched it off of his waist before making your way to his backside once more. With a fluid motion, you looped it around his wrists twice before tying it. He flexed his forearms in response, testing the resistance of his bondage, to which you clucked, “You’re not escaping that easily,” Though you had tied it gently enough for him to break free should he need to. But for all intents and purposes, he was helpless. Completely at your disposal. Ready for anything and everything you had in mind.

The raw, devious power surged through you so beautifully. And submissiveness looked equally enticing on Sektor. Since he was incapacitated, you took the liberty of peeling off his armor for him. It took a bit longer than you had expected to get through all of the various knots and clasps, but that was no problem. Every second was blissful agony for the man who was trapped under your touch. But eventually, your gift was unwrapped, save for his ivory undergarments. By the tenting in the fabric, he was already ready for you. But there would be none of that. Not anytime soon, anyway.

A maniacal giggle made its way past your lips as you reached around his head. With a loud snap, the red tie that was holding his long hair in place was between your fingers. You waved it in front of him teasingly before pushing the loose hair out of his eyes, “Lay down,” Your voice was a soft, but harsh whisper.

At your command, the Grandmaster’s son swung his knees out from under him and lowered his muscular back onto the cold marble floor. He winced as the cold penetrated his skin, but he made no effort to get up. Not when he was consumed by the overwhelming desire to be obedient for his mistress. Who, had he been able to speak, would have been showered in praises. You were easily one of the most beautiful women he had bedded. Being the chosen child had its perks, but it also had its drawbacks; one being that he could never explore his desire for domination. It would be too embarrassing if he, the next Grandmaster, were found under a woman. Or, one of the Lin Kuei women, anyway. But you were an outsider. Someone who passed through twice a year at most. There was no shame in this. Only pleasure as you stripped down to your f/c undergarments, taking care to leave your boots on. It fit the aesthetic, after all.

“You have a sharp tongue for someone who’s supposed to be a disciplined assassin,” You chided, your hands positioning themselves on your hips as you stood over him, your boots dangerously close to his face, “But you know what? I think we can put it to better use,” Sektor didn’t have time to consider your words before you unceremoniously squatted, the satin fabric of your underwear meeting the resistant cloth of your makeshift gag.

With an exaggerated sigh, you settled in on your new chair, your boots resting easily on either side of his head. This was much better. No noise and the pleasure of having your sex serviced. Well, not so much the second part as Sektor had a gag in place that prevented the latter. Though you did have to say that seeing him grow frustrated at his bondage was pleasurable in its own right. You sat like this for a few moments, basking in the feeling of control, until you felt a small vibration against your clothed sex.

“What was that? ‘Take the gag off’? And my panties?” You repeated, to which he nodded desperately. Another triumphant laugh rippled through your chest. As if you would give the spoiled brat what he wanted. That would be counterintuitive on your part. E/c irises clouded over as you looked down at your whining subject, “No. You haven’t earned the right to taste me,”

But that didn’t stop him from trying, much to your amusement. Sektor continued to strain against the gag, trying to do something; anything. His full beard provided some nice friction though, and you almost considered giving in and letting him eat you out. Almost, “Now look at me,” A s/c hand reached out and grabbed his chin, forcing him to give you his undivided attention. His dark pupils dilated in excitement at your roughness, “You’re going to be a good boy for me, right?” You cooed, being rewarded by another needy jerk of his head.

“Good,” H/t, h/c locks bobbed as you nodded your head in satisfaction. In fact, you were so pleased with his broken obedience that you resumed a squatting position, taking the weight off of his face momentarily. You reached down and pulled the gag free, letting it bunch around his neck instead. Sektor was only allowed a second to breathe through his mouth before your sex pressed against it once more.

But there were no complaints from the brat, only gratitude as his tongue traced the outline of your folds, “Thank you, Mistress L/n,” He mumbled as he pressed a soft kiss to your clit. You sighed, rocking your hips a bit to catch some of the friction from his beard scratching your thighs.

This felt very, very good. So good that you almost considered dropping your facade and letting yourself fully enjoy the man’s mouth. But where was the fun in that? As far as you were concerned, he was still a jerk. A whiny, beautifully submissive, brat that still hadn’t learned his lesson. Tucking your knees to your chest, you pulled yourself into a standing position, much to the disappointment of your submissive.

“Aw, don’t pout. I don’t like pouting,” Your stern voice commanded, causing Sektor to amend his expression immediately. Basking in the high of your authority, you shifted your attention to his lower half. Saying that the man was weeping for attention was an understatement as you rubbed his aching erection through the cloth. Curious, you bent over and removed his hard length from his undershorts. You gave him a sly smile as your nimble fingers worked him, “I’m surprised that you’ve actually managed to impress me,” He merely moaned in response as your stroking got faster, “Please,” His voice, hoarse from the gag, pleaded for your audience, “Please ride my cock, Mistress. I want to make you cum,” He begged while you pursed your lips, considering the proposition.

The ache in your stomach had only grown more prominent throughout your teasing. And coupled with the stimulation from Sektor’s mouth, you were beyond wet enough for intercourse. Sighing, “Very well. You’ve been a good boy so far,” Your hand ceased its movement in favor of hooking itself inside your panties along with the other. Straightening up, you pulled the silk down, stepping out of the garment to free your ankles, “I’ll give you what you want; on one condition. No thrusting,” He gave a weak nod in agreement.

Satisfied with his obedience once more, you allowed yourself to squat over him, this time over his erect dick. Once he was lined up, you began sinking down, allowing him to enter you at the most agonizingly slow rate. Only when you were comfortable did you begin moving. And it felt damn good. Overcome with desire, you allowed yourself to ride him at an excruciating pace, momentarily forgetting your cool, stone demeanor. A moan akin to a wind-chime clawed its way out of your throat as your hand found its way to your clit. You rubbed furiously while your other hand tangled itself in that long black hair, tugging it roughly. He let out a guttural sound at the lovely pain you were causing him, but he kept his promise of not thrusting into you despite an overwhelming desire to. Though that didn’t stop you from eventually changing your own rule, overcome by the pleasure.

“Fuck me. Make me cum,” You demanded, amending your previous instruction. Sektor knew better than to question your orders, his only focus on doing just what you had asked. He was able to flip you over with his strong hips despite his hands still being tied behind his back. Once you were comfortable, he wasted no time snapping his hips into yours as fast as he could. His pace was relentless, causing your toes to curl and stars to enter your vision as he rubbed against your precious spot. Your fingers bunched his loose hair up, pulling as hard as humanly possible as you met an intense climax. Shaking, your breathing grew even more ragged as the heat ravished your body. All of your neurons felt as if they were on fire as you came.

His hips slowed as the last of your orgasm made its way through you, stopping once your hand detangled itself from his black locks and fell limp across your ribs. With a tired smile, your eyes focused on him once more, “I will let you cum as a reward for being obedient,” Just not inside of you. He wasn’t that good. But he was excited nonetheless. Proud that he had lived up to your expectations. His cock exited your trembling pussy, saturated in your orgasm. When your breathing eventually slowed, you slowly shifted to sit on your knees, your hand replacing itself on his shaft.

Your hand stroked him as fast as you could manage while he whimpered in pleasure. It didn’t take long before his seed erupted from the tip of his cock, effectively coating your hand and splattering on his abs. Looking down at the mess, Sektor grew sheepish as the post-orgasm clarity seeped in. You had definitely shown him; maybe he should learn to be more humble. Or maybe he would be just as much of an asshole the next time you visited so you could teach him another lesson, “Thank you,” He managed to get out once he caught his breath.

You hated to say it, but Sektor had been right. He sure didn’t disappoint the Grandmaster.

“You’re welcome. Now go get a towel so you can clean up your mess.”

#sektor #sektor x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #lin kuei

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