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violentdelightsandviolentends · 9 months

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Rest Had Seemed The Sweetest Thing.

Bucky's slowly learning that love isn't a finite resource. aka, Bucky's first Christmas.

pairing - bucky barnes x female reader

warnings - none!! just tooth rottingly sweet fluff <3

word count - 1.7k

author's note - based on these two requests!! i'm also trying a new post format... what do we think?? I promised you i'd get a couple of xmas fics out before the 25th... I lied. apologies!! forgive me. title taken from the poem The Owl by Edward Thomas.

as always, if you enjoyed, please reblog!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics. thanks, angels <3

masterlist. inbox.

He whispers the words, timid and reserved, directly into your ear as if he's worried someone else will hear. It's only the two of you sat on the couch in your shared apartment, but Bucky's nervous.

Your head whips around in shock, trying to play it cool. Failed.

"Are you... are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

You grin, big and blinding, the beams of it radiating into Bucky's bones. It settles into his muscles, eases the tension from his shoulders.

You try not to make a big deal of it, try to keep your excitement under wraps. But you've been waiting for him to say those words for almost six years.

"I want to do Christmas this year."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

He hates the cold.

No, he's traumatised by the cold.

Years spent frozen, genetically modified and locked in a glorified freezer. Every gust of wind, every flake of snow reminds him of the darkest days with no light to be seen. His blood may run hot, but he feels like his heart is yet to thaw. He debates moving to the desert at least ten times a day.

Then he looks at you. How happy you are when winter comes around. The way your face lights up when it snows. And he figures that if it brings you this much joy... maybe he can tolerate it.

He bites back the chill, grits his teeth at the icy breeze, ignores the shudder of the cold all the way down to his bones. He grins and bears it, because you love it. He thinks you don't notice.

You do.

You've known ever since you met him. His demeanour changes when the winter comes around. He gets a little tentative around the autumn time, as if he's preparing himself for the worst. And then the first snow falls, and he's different. Guarded. Careful. Reluctant. He puts a fake smile on his face and pretends, but you're nothing if not completely in tune with everything Bucky Barnes.

You never asked, never pried. Just stood steadily by his side, regardless of the walls he'd placed around himself. Around his heart.

He broke down one night, wrapped up in bed with you. A chill had blown through your old apartments rickety windows and unearthed old memories, ice running into his veins. He was sure his tears were frozen as they dripped down his face.

You understood him better, since that day.

You've tried to suggest moving in subtle and not so subtle ways, but he won't have it. He knows this is your home. He knows you like it here. He knows he can stay, if he works a little harder on himself.

So, he tries. Every single day, he tries. And that's all that matters.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Okay, so... ground rules. Hit me, Buck. We do this on your terms."

He thinks for a moment before turning to face you.

"I want it to be just us. No one else."

"Done."

"And I don't wanna do the whole Christmas dinner thing. Feels like too much all at once."

You fight the urge to burst into tears at how easily he's communicating with you, how effortlessly he's enforcing his boundaries. You've come a long way.

"Done. Agreed, by the way. Fuck Christmas dinner. We'll do our own thing."

He grins at you, leaning in to kiss you slowly, tenderly, leisurely. Like you have all the time in the world.

"I want to get a tree. And lights. We don't have to do all the ornaments and stuff, but lights would be nice."

"I have an artificial tree in the back of the storage closet... is that okay?"

"Perfect. I don't want to stand on all the pine needles, anyway."

Laughing, you shift closer to him, tangling your legs together on the couch.

"And no gifts for me."

"But Buck-"

"Angel. I don't want anything. I have everything I need sat next to me."

You roll your eyes, but you can't wipe the smile off your face.

"This isn't fair, suddenly."

"It's plenty fair. You stress too much when you buy gifts, and this is going to be a stress free Christmas. Understood?"

He hooks his fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Understood," you whisper, swinging your knee over so you're straddling him. "Stress free."

Bucky tilts his head up to kiss you, gentle at first, then firmer when you roll your hips into his. He's a little distracted, admittedly. He got you to promise not to get him anything, but made sure you wouldn't ask the same. His mind runs a mile a minute, trying to wrack his brain on what kind of gift to get for the love of his life, the person that saved him and continues to save him every single day.

He comes up empty, but lets you kiss the thoughts away for a little while.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"My mom taught me this specific way to hang lights on your tree. Look, grab this end and I'll show you."

You're both still in your pyjamas, fire roaring, a jazzy Christmas melody playing from the radio. You decided you wouldn't put up your tree until the day before, to save Bucky from feeling overwhelmed. It's worked, so far - he looks plenty relaxed as he chuckles and rises from the armchair.

"You're tall, so hold this above your head so they don't tangle."

You work diligently, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you concentrate. Bucky's happy to watch you, fighting the smile off his face every time you sigh in exasperation. Eventually, you step back and admire your masterpiece, satisfied and content.

"It's beautiful, baby," he whispers, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

He presses a kiss into your neck, then another, then another. Your eyes slip closed, and you sink into his embrace, feeling more at peace than you ever thought possible. You spend the evening by the fire, lying on the rug, room illuminated by the lights on the tree.

It's perfect in every way.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Merry Christmas, angel."

"Merry Christmas, Buck."

His hand finds yours under the duvet, pulling you in close. You tangle yourself around him like lights on a tree, all encompassed by his warmth.

"What's the plan for today, Sergeant?"

He presses a kiss into your temple, propping himself up on his elbow so he can see you properly.

"I say we make some breakfast, spend all day on the couch, and then maybe make some dinner? I know we said we wouldn't do a traditional Christmas dinner, but it'd still be nice to take the time to cook something."

"That sounds perfect."

In the kitchen, you make pancakes with copious amounts of maple syrup, strawberries and pieces of banana strewn across your plates.

"My Mom made us pancakes every Christmas morning, you know."

"You've never told me that."

"I know. I kind of refrained from ever talking about anything festive, because I didn't want you to feel guilty."

"For making you miss out for so many years?"

"I haven't missed out, baby. I chose not to do Christmas because I love you. And that love takes precedent over everything else."

Bucky kisses you then, across the kitchen table, full and golden and so full of love you almost fall off your chair. He tastes like blueberry jam and syrup and coffee, and you wish you could bottle it up and stick a little under your tongue when you get homesick.

"What changed?"

"Hmm?"

"Why now? I would have been content to never do Christmas again, if it made you happy."

"Because I realised something, a couple of months ago. We were sat in the park, and you were laughing at that dog chasing the boomerang. The sun was making you glow, like some sort of angel, and I just knew. I can do anything with you by my side. I can't put my future on hold because of my past."

You're fighting back tears as you look at him, so happy and content. You never thought this was possible, when you first met him.

And here you are.

Celebrating Christmas, showing him your childhood traditions, making pancakes like your Mama used to. You're sat at the kitchen table as the snow falls outside and the warmth that Bucky's love brings is keeping the chill at bay.

It doesn't get better than this.

"I got you something," he murmurs almost sheepishly.

"Bucky-"

"Don't yell at me! I know it makes me a hypocrite, I know I said no gifts, I know."

You roll your eyes, but watch his every move as he gets up and leaves the room. You finish your breakfast and put both of your plates in the sink, turning on the tap so they can soak. When you turn around, Bucky has returned.

He's on one knee.

There's a ring between his fingers, glinting in the winter sun. You're both still in your pyjamas, warm and full, not quite having shaken off the heavy embrace of sleep just yet.

It's perfect.

"Maybe it's cliche to propose on Christmas day, but... I want to replace all of my old memories with new ones. Memories like this."

You walk over to him, kneeling down in front of him so your eyes are level.

"You've taught me what love is, baby. And I can never repay you for that. But I can certainly try. Every day, I can try."

There are tears dripping down both of your cheeks, Bucky's grin matching yours. The two of you are overwhelmed in the best way, unsure of how to process the gravity of what you're feeling.

"Marry me, baby. Let's do this forever."

You lunge forward and smash your lips to his, laughing into his mouth.

"Yes," you breathe when you pull away. "God, yes. A million times yes, Buck."

His arms wrap around your middle as he picks you up, twirling you in circles around the kitchen, both of you shrieking with joy.

Bucky slips the ring onto your finger when he puts you down, both of you tilting your heads to admire it.

"I love you," you murmur, leaning up to press your foreheads together. "The cold can't touch you now, baby. This love will warm us forever."

The cold can't touch him now. Love will warm him forever.

@lizzystuffsthings <3

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charnelhouse · 2 years

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bad people

Gif by @jdmorganz

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!ReaderWordcount: 3kWarnings: rough sex. age gap (tho undefined). violence. oral. blood. joel being a dick. drunk sex. Summary: When it happened, it happened in the dark.

Ten Years Post Outbreak

Boston was dirty. The summer rain had been relentless, liquefying the dirt to unforgiving mud. She’d had enough of rain. Her shirt stuck to her skin, constricting her limbs and soaking her feet. She was lightheaded. She’d had a spoonful of canned peaches earlier, and the sugar smudged her tongue.

She blinked down at her feet, the sneakers threadbare and soaked. Her eyes flitted to the wood-brown boots beside them. They dwarfed her shoes in comparison.

The man next to her was one she knew. Joel Miller.

He was rough-looking with his weathered skin and dark hair threaded with a bit of silver. He was also handsome, seemingly carved from a shard of rock. Strong. Brutal.

Hephaestus.

If he were a God, she’d choose Hephaestus.

The things she did know about him were both second-hand and from afar. He was mean and ruthless. He beat the shit out of a rival smuggler and blinded another.

Tonight was purely coincidental. The rain was too hard. The soldiers were out in droves due to a recent Firefly attack. Joel had stumbled upon her hideout: a narrow storage closet that smelled like bleach. He’d turned the tiny light on, and she’d snapped like a feral cat. He’d shut it off without apologizing.

Instead, he glanced down at her, frowning, and for a split second, she thought he was going to murder her for the shelter. Instead, he tugged a large plastic bottle of brown liquid from his pack and offered it.

Whiskey–she guessed. A homegrown brew that might make her temporarily blind. The good stuff.

Wordlessly, she took it. The terms were met. You can share this space with me. She would have said yes regardless.

Joel sat beside her, and after she swallowed enough to burn her lungs, he accepted the whiskey again.

***

When it happened, it happened in the dark.

They barely spoke. Instead, they passed the bottle back and forth. Both of them were loose with it. The whiskey warmed her belly, making everything somewhat bearable. Her vision became edged with gauzy sweeps of color–finger painting in the dim light. The world was bathed in butter, gold, and temporary numbness.

Thirty minutes had passed when she finally spoke. “Great weather we’re having.”

He paused, the plastic crinkling in his hand, the rim scraping against his chin. He smiled briefly.

“Used to like the rain,” he replied. “But now?” He shook his head, and she noticed the raw cut of his jaw, his patchy beard. He was someone who had worked too long in the sun, and yet she found him unbearably attractive. Rugged. A hot coal pulsing fire, and she was desperate to get warm.

She thought of fungus. She thought of it growing in this narrow room with its perfect conditions. Humidity. Wooly heat. A petri dish. She could become it–become the sick and she could rot into the wall with Joel sitting silently beside her. She’d swell with a patchwork of pretty colors: blister-red, jaundice-green, bile-orange.

Jesus. She was maudlin. She was drunk.

The rain fell harder, pelting the walls of the building. She knew things were hanging on by spit and glue. She knew everything could–would–collapse eventually. No more clean-cut grass. No more distinct roads. No more potted flowers.

Joel turned his head, his dark gaze landing on her face. The irises shimmered like a sun-drenched black top. He had somber eyes. Expressive for once. Doe-like. He stared at her as if it was the first time he actually was actually seeing her.

She wondered if he went through life avoiding the periphery. There was only the direct line in front of him. When he came into this closet, he shoved the bottle forward and only saw her hand accept it.

He blinked at her sluggishly, his pink lips parting beneath his mustache. There was a flicker of recognition.

“You ran with Luke, right?”

Surprised, she nodded. Joel had remembered her.

Luke. Gorgeous Luke, who was the very picture of a homecoming king. A movie star. Corn-fed. Blonde hair, white teeth, and sea-glass green eyes. He had been full of hope, and there had been a time when Joel and his brother, Tommy, had worked with them. She’d stuck to the corners. Watched. Observed. Frightened out of her mind because she didn’t understand how to live anymore—how to function, barter, or be content. Luke had done it all, protected her to the best of his ability.

“You’ve gotta take a deep breath, baby,” Luke had ordered, shrouding her face between his dry, clean hands. “You adapt. You live. That’s it.”

“Good guy,” Joel offered, somewhat awkwardly. Everyone knew what had happened to Luke. She’d been surprised that many people cared at the time. The Apocalypse had occurred, but the community still gave a shit over the handsome jock with the diplomatic smile.

She huffed a laugh, and he frowned.

“He was an idiot,” she hissed–very resentful even if it had been three years. He’d left her here.

There’d been so much blood—eggplant purple pouring out of Luke as he gurgled for her.

Joel pushed the bottle into her hand, his knuckles brushing her palm. She took a pull and didn’t wince. “He still operated as if the rules hadn’t changed. He didn’t understand that you have to be a bad person to survive here. He trusted too easily. Far too empathetic for his own good.” She scowled as she knocked her head against the wall. It throbbed–spots of white sprouting across her vision like a fungus–

“Hey,” Joel said, leaning into her. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

She could smell the honey-burn of whiskey on his tongue, in his beard. There was also the press of wet dog, sweat, and body odor. She was used to that. She was used to the smell of unwashed humans. Those were good scents because they didn’t carry that mildewy stench of fungi. A water-logged basement. A moss-covered stone at the edge of a pond.

She inhaled and found Joel’s hair brushed in smoke. Cigarette ash. He was closer to her, his denim sleeve rasping her bare arm.

“You’re shivering,” he mumbled.

“I know.”

It happened within a second. An unspoken decision erupting like a metallic click of a lighter.

She was lonely—so lonely and she wanted to burn. Perhaps, he did too.

His eyes found hers, his lids heavy, and his cheeks flushed. She wasn’t sure if she moved first or he did, but she knew they didn’t kiss. He jerked to the side last minute, his mouth scraping down the side of her cheek.

He encouraged her to lie down, his chest against her breasts as he petted her hips, the outside of her thigh. He was heavy, breathing hard as he buried his face into her neck.

“Lift your hips,” he murmured as he popped the button on her jeans and rucked them down to her knees with his nose still rooted against her jaw.

They fucked fully clothed on the filthy, cement floor.

She pushed his jeans under his ass as he gripped his cock and smeared it against the lips of her cunt. It was clumsy and desperate, but it felt good. Everything felt good. She had to bite his shoulder when he finally breached her. He moved too quickly, sinking to the hilt as her body tried to accommodate his girth. He’d broken her in, forced her to mold to his size, and she found herself fisting his hair, biting his neck.

“You’re good,” he hummed as he slowly began to saw his hips. “Fuckin’ great, sweetheart.”

The drag of his cock sizzled her insides and spread her apart. He pinned her down and buried her with his full weight. She felt safe—blanketed by him and all of his denim.

Every thrust forced her spine up the wet floor. Her knees dug into his ribs, her ankle wrapped around the back of his calve. He smelled like a soaked garden. Soil. A brushfire. Wood. His nails were dirty, and she arched when he dug them into her waist.

He ground against her in a way that made the wiry hairs at his groin stimulate her, his pelvic bone rubbing her clit. She climaxed a little too quickly. Embarrassingly quickly. It had been so long since Luke and Joel was big. The pain was welcome. The ache of him. She clenched around him, tightened to a knot as she cried out into his hair. His curls were caught in her breath, his beard burning her skin.

Afterward, he stood, tucking his soft cock, shiny with her, into his jeans. The near-empty bottle of whiskey rolled against her leg. He attempted a smile that was more of a glower and shook his head a bit to clear it before backpedaling out the door.

***

It ended up working out—forced proximity.

He needed a second hand, and anyone else found him scary. He seemed taken aback when she offered her help, perhaps surprised at her forwardness.

We fucked. That’s it.

But–he accepted her, begrudgingly pulling her into his plans. She was a tiny island in a sea of several. Her group had been Luke, and the others within it had done what they did to him. She’d killed them for that—no more group.

He gave her the couch in his small place. Tommy was in and out. Ships in the night, she supposed, though she didn’t know what had broken between them.

Most of the time, Joel ignored her. He seemed unable to look her in the eye, which she found hilarious. Her ego had long been snuffed out, but she couldn’t help the pinch of hurt at Joel’s coldness.

You’ve been inside me. C’mon.

He gave her orders. She watched his back. He was someone who would know of her existence if she died.

Would he care? She doubted it.

But he’d know she’d been there. Breathing. Alive.

***

One midnight, Joel returned to the apartment, pissed off. She hated waiting for him, being left behind. She’d rather be out there and with him.

Luke had died alone. He’d told her to stay put, and he’d gone out and died.

Joel had stumbled toward the couch in the dark. Forgetting she was there, he’d crashed into her, and she’d yelped.

“Fuck,” he growled, shoving a hand through his curls. “What the hell!?”

“It’s my bed,” she murmured, and it seemed to douse his fire. He blinked at her, the moonlight turning the edges of his face silver.

“I don’t understand,” she continued, voice a little thick with frustration. “If you don’t want me here–”

“Lie back.”

He went to his knees, hands moving under her ass and pulling it forward. He cupped it and lifted her pelvis. Shorts gone. Joel’s skin was cold from the outdoors, and he hitched her knees over his shoulders. His hair tickled her skin. He covered her cunt with his mouth and drank from her. He devoured without a hint of shame because she could hear herself on his tongue. The wet mess of her pussy. The room rang with her whimpers, and when she tried to silence them with her hand, he growled like an animal–a beast.

Afterward, he stood up mechanically, before stalking back to his room. He left her with her shorts around her ankles, her cunt tender and soaked.

He hadn’t even wiped his lips.

***

She learned from him—what he had become. He was selfish and drowning in the bloodlust that rippled under his skin like a parasite. She got it. She found it stimulating. His philosophy of kill or be killed. His ego stroked with every fight he caused or fatal situation he inevitably won.

Two months in, she watched him put a bullet in a newbie smuggler who had sold him pills made from chalk and sugar.

He turned around, grabbed her hard by the back of the neck and shoved her up against a wall. He dragged her pants under her ass as he fiddled with his belt. After a distressing second, he pushed himself into her. No spit. No preparation at all. It was dry enough to hurt them both, but she still moaned. He gagged her with his palm as he fisted her hair. He fucked her in short, brutal strokes. Thump...thump….thump against the plaster wall. An even, steady rhythm. He didn’t rush it. He didn’t speak either. Just grunts. Just feral, low noises from the back of his throat.

“Joel,” she gasped, and he pinned her with his hips. He withdrew until only the tip remained before plunging back inside her like he could fuck her guts. Maybe, he wanted to. Maybe, he wanted to punish her and remind her:

I’m a bad person. I’m the kind of person who survives in a world like this. Isn’t that what you want?

***

“How old are you?” Joel asked out of the blue; his brows knitted together in concern.

It was a little late for that. The air between them spiked before becoming sour and viscous as jelly. He pulled his shoulders back, his expression twisting into something hesitant and concerned.

She chewed her lip thoughtfully, wondering if she should lie for his benefit. Finally, she told him, and he grimaced. The age difference wasn’t that obscene. It wasn’t unheard of or ugly. There weren’t many people left to begin with. She’d seen him kill. He knew what she had done to avenge Luke.

Joel rubbed the scar across her belly. "Was this from the woods? After Luke?"

"You should see the other guys."

Joel grinned in a way that was so deliciously impressed. Smug. "Oh," he said, curling with glee. "Oh-I did. Had no idea a little thing like you could even think of such things."

She leaned forward, her lips hovering over his own. His hands found her ass and he encouraged her down until he was half-way inside her. He was all blood - unforgivably hard and he split her down the middle. She loved it.

"I lost my mind for a second," she revealed, deliberately flexing the walls of her pussy. He grunted and became slightly cross-eyed. "You know...” she continued. "If it had happened to you? I might have done the same."

"If I had been Luke?"

"If you had been Luke."

Suddenly, he grabbed her hard and shoved her down, impaling her on his cock until he couldn't drive further. He was in her throat--her lungs. Joel. "I wouldn't be Luke," he argued huskily as he snapped into her - once - twice. He smacked her ass and the sound rocketed through the room. "I'm a bad guy, remember?"

She tried to laugh, but it tumbled out of her like a whimper. "Still," she said between the continuous, punishing stabs of his cock. "Still--I'd avenge you."

She held her hand out, and he took it. He could wrap his whole fist around hers and she’d disappear.

“Don’t worry so much,” she warned. “You’ll get wrinkles.”

Of course, he was already well-worn. She bet he was lined and edged even before the infection. He was a constant overthinker. She knew he’d been a carpenter, but the rest was a wash—all diluted gray mass of nothin’. His life before was not something he gave her.

“Why are we holdin’ hands again?”

She lifted her shoulders, gaze wandering away from his pointed stare. “Just consoling you now that you’ve realized you’re a dirty old man.”

He squeezed until her bones trembled before rolling his eyes in a disarmingly young way. “You need to watch that mouth of yours.”

***

Joel was swollen with a fever. She touched his forehead, dragging her fingertips across his cheekbone. She traced a letter and then her name. He leaned into it, lips parting as his whiskey-damp breath brushed her skin.

“You’re not doing too well,” she observed. His bare shoulders bulged from the edge of the blanket, and his lashes fluttered. His mouth curled as he tried to shift against the thin mattress.

“S’fine,” he slurred.

She swallowed a scream. She wanted to burst. She could do nothing for him but wait. Hope it was a virus. Hope it was a plain old illness that had to tire itself out.

“Let me go to the other side of town,” she murmured. “I’ll find you meds. I’m sure I can.”

His eyes snapped open at that. He attempted to sit up before groaning. “Don’t–don’t–you fuckin’ dare.” He said her name softly as he melted back into the mattress. Coughing. Moaning. “Do not go.”

He pushed his head into her lap in the blurred daze of his fever. She swept his hair away from his face, combing his fingers through his damp curls.

If he got worse, she’d go. She’d have to.

The next day, the fever dropped a point. Joel couldn’t fall asleep, instead trembling in the bed, sweating rivulets of sickness.

She played him Lee Hazlewood. Your Sweet Love. She played it on repeat. It rocked him somewhat, and with her imagination, she turned the popcorned ceiling into stars and a twilight sky.

Joel curled into her. “You smell nice,” he sighed. He held her closer, demanding warmth even though his skin was oven-hot.

In the morning, his fingers wandered down between her legs. He touched her, stroked her until she shook in his sweat-sodden sheets. The intimacy killed her. It was too much and not enough.

***

She worked one of the body disposal shifts and cut her hand on some glass. The wind was painfully cold, and the blood that bubbled up from the gash felt like hot tea. She studied it, somewhat enraptured by its brightness of it. It turned the dirty snow at her feet maroon.

She heard her name. It was muffled, and then it was louder, familiar, and seared with frustration. Joel. He gripped her hard by the arms, twisting her around. Joel handled fear terribly. Terror could only be molded into anger for him. Violence.

He shook her. “Where have you been? I waited an hour.”

She lifted her hand to show him. She still could be childish. She wondered if she had stopped maturing after the world had ended.

His eyes slowly crept from her face to her hand. “How?”

“Some glass,” she shrugged.

“Is—are—-,” He trailed off, audibly swallowing.

She found it off-putting. Joel was usually so collected.

“If I were infected—they would have shot me,” she reminded him, and he sagged an inch. Of course. Of course. How silly of me.

He rearranged his expression so that it was his usual gruff stoniness.

“You’re freezing,” he accused as if she could help it. Boston winter. Not enough layers.

We thought the cold would stomp out the infection–the bacteria–the fungus.

“It’s fine–”

Wordlessly, Joel wrapped his arms around her shoulders, hauling her into the heat of his chest. Surprised, she gripped the fabric of his shirt as he forced his jacket around the both of them. The sky was blue-black, and the snow clung to her hair and scalp. It coated his coffee-brown hair in powdered sugar.

She pressed her face into his sternum, nuzzling her nose into the space between his pecs.

“Let me see your hand,” he urged.

She gave it to him, still dripping and tender. She needed a bandage. Of course, FEDRA tested her, but they wouldn’t waste a single strip of gauze.

She heard Joel curse them under his breath before cradling her hand, fingertips barely nudging the injury. He dropped his head and kissed the vulnerable space between her thumb and index finger, and when he pulled away, there was the faintest trace of her blood on his chin.

“So weird,” she said. “So alive.”

His brow furrowed. She might be a little light-headed.

Yes. Yes. Hot-feverish blood meant her heart was pulsing, thumping with life just like Joel. His anger. His pain. What he does to her in the dark.

“C’mere,” She grasped his face between her hands. Unshaven. Prickly. Her blood. On tiptoe, she claimed his mouth, and he accepted, even demanded more.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo

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skzdust · 4 months

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Room 514

Part 1

This fic is the result of 1. Me going on a road trip and 2. A poll I did on here! I have the trip back coming up in a few days so I might do another poll to decide what I write on the way back lol!

Summary: You’re moving into a new suite halfway through your sophomore year at Stay University, populated by three guys: Jisung, Changbin, and Bang Chan. You meet their friends and quickly become a part of their group, but you find yourself wanting more with Jisung…

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Includes: slow burn (if I have the patience to write it slow lol), college au, roommates, besties with skz, gender neutral reader (if smut happens reader will be afab)

Word count: 1.3k

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Masterlist

——-

The lock to room 514 beeped, its LED turning green, and you moved your phone away. You took a breath and turned the handle.

You didn’t need to worry. The suite’s living room was empty. The decoration gave you hope, though; it was neat and decorated mostly in shades of blue, with a sunny yellow cover on the couch. You hoped it was like this all the time and not just because you were moving in today.

The suite had four single bedrooms, two half bathrooms, one shower, and a living room with a mini-fridge and microwave. You’d been living in a different hall just a few days ago, sharing a room with another girl, Catherine. She’d been awful ever since you’d walked in on her cheating on her boyfriend with another guy, spreading rumors and turning all your friends against you. You’d pleaded with your RA for a single room, and she’d helped you find a suite in another hall. It was a room with three guys, which made you a little anxious, but you’d jumped at the chance nonetheless.

“Hello?” You said, a little louder than you usually would speak.

Nothing.

You found room D, your room, in the hallway to the left. Room C, next door, had a handwritten sign beside the “C”: “Han Jisung.”

One of your roommates. You knew the others were named Changbin and Bang Chan, but you hadn’t met any of the three.

You pressed your phone to the lock on room D and walked in.

The room was small and bare, but you smiled at the fact that you’d have your own space at all. A lofted bed with plenty of storage space underneath was against the back wall, next to a desk and chair, and a tall chest of drawers was beside the closet.

You climbed up on the bed to look out the window. You had a rather ugly view of the parking lot, but the window faced South, so at least you’d get plenty of light.

There was a loud knock behind you.

You whirled around, almost falling off the bed. Potentially the most attractive man you’d ever seen in real life was leaning in your doorway, a grin on his face. “You must be y/n!”

“Yeah, that’s… me.” You said with a little laugh. “And you’re…?”

“Jisung.” His smile grew. “Han Jisung.”

You hopped off the bed. “Jisung. You’re next door!”

“Yeah! Me and Changbin and Bang Chan are excited to have another roommate, it’s been just the three of us for a while.”

“Well, I’m kind of escaping a situation at the moment, so I’m looking forward to a fresh start, too.” You tried not to let your thoughts of Catherine make you angry.

“Well, you’re always welcome to hang out with us.”

“Thanks, that’s nice of you.”

“Actually, we’re having some people over tonight.” He raised his eyebrows. “Chill with us, if you don’t have to study or anything. We’re gonna watch Love Island.”

You grinned. “Love Island? Seriously?”

“How can you not love stupid reality TV with a bunch of hot people?” Jisung held his hands up. “Just saying, just saying. We’re probably gonna order pizza, too, if that helps convince you.”

“Not judging, just wasn’t expecting it.” You shrugged. “But yeah, I don’t have anything going on tonight, that sounds fun!”

“Sounds good. Do you need any help moving stuff in?”

“I think I’ve got it.” You waved your hand. “Just some stuff in the hallway.”

He nodded. “Let me know if you want help.”

“I will.”

He gave a lazy salute. “See you tonight!” He pushed off the doorway and twirled into the hall, and you heard his door click shut.

You squeezed your eyes shut, sending up a silent prayer. Please, please, please let him be single.

—

You stood in the center of the room, doing a little circle and judging it cute enough to be finished.

You’d been unpacking and decorating for a few hours, but the sounds of people in the living room had started about an hour ago, so you’d slowed down. You wanted to see Jisung again, but you were a bit anxious to meet his friends, as well as your other two roommates.

But there were only so many times you could rearrange your books or organize your clothes, and you knew it was a good idea to go out and join the party.

You checked your reflection in the mirror on the inside of the closet door, smoothing your hair, and left your room.

There were eight people in the living room of the suite, the only one you recognized being Jisung. And… wait, was that the guy you’d been on a project with in music technology last year? Hwang Hyunjin?

“Y/n!” Jisung jumped up from the couch when he saw you, beaming. “Guys, this is our new roommate!”

“Y/n?” The guy you were 99% sure was Hyunjin said, tilting his head. “I know you! We did a project together.”

“Yeah! I remember that! It’s Hyunjin, right?”

He smiled softly. “Yeah, Hyunjin. Nice to meet you again!”

You tried to remember back to the project. You’d loved the class, and you remembered the project going well. Hyunjin had been great to work with, doing his share of the planning and the legwork. You’d found him cute then, too, but freshman year you’d been even more timid, and you hadn’t made a move. You were kind of glad for that now, though.

Because Jisung was walking across the room to you, and standing right next to you, and you almost missed what he started to say because you could smell whatever cologne he used, and it smelled good.

“Okay, around the room we have...” He pointed at each of the guys. “Seungmin, Minho, Jeongin, you know Hyunjin, Felix, Bang Chan, he’s one of our roommates, and Changbin, he’s our other roommate.” He pointed to himself. “And you know me. Jisung.”

You nodded at each name, doing your best to match them to faces. “Got it. I’m decent with names, so I’ll do my best.”

Jisung bumped your shoulder, and you giggled. “I’m sure you’ve got it.” He made a shooing motion at Seungmin, who was sitting on the floor. “Pizza’s behind Seungmin.”

“What kind?”

“There’s pepperoni and there’s cheese.” Seungmin picked up a plate. “Here, I can grab you a slice, what do you want?”

“Just a slice of cheese, thanks.”

Seungmin handed Jisung the plate, and he made a little mock bow before holding it out to you. You smiled, taking it. “Thank you, butler.”

“Of course, my liege.” He winked, and a cloud of butterflies took flight in your chest.

“Nice to meet you, y/n!” Changbin leaned over the back of his chair and extended his hand. You shook it.

“Changbin, right?”

“Mhm. Roommates!”

“Yeah, that’s right.” You nodded.

“He sings a lot. You can tell him to shut up if you need to.” Bang Chan grinned. “I’m Bang Chan, I’m your other roommate.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. I don’t mind singing.”

“I mean, he has a decent enough voice, but it’s… frequent.” Jisung widened his eyes as he nodded. “Quite frequent.”

“Oh, come on.” Changbin rolled his eyes. “You all should be honored that you get to hear my singing. I’m gonna be recognized for my talent someday!”

“He also raps.” Jeongin added. “I’m sure you’ll hear that, too.”

“I’m an even better of a rapper than I am a singer!” He pointed around the room. “Feel honored!”

Felix held a hand to his chest. “We all feel so honored. All hail the most beautiful voice, Changbin!”

“That’s more like it!”

You laughed with the rest of them. This group felt more comfortable than you’d ever felt with your old friends, and you couldn’t help thinking that maybe moving in with Changbin, Bang Chan, and Jisung was meant to be.

#stray kids #hyunjin #han #bang chan #felix #changbin #seungmin #i.n #lee know #Han x reader #han jisung x reader #Han jisung #stray kids fic #stray kids x reader #skz #skz x reader #skzdust writes #room 514

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letternotekisses · 27 days

Note

Can you do nsfw headcanons for Cassidy :D

absolutely i can <3 nsfw below da cut

Huge oral fixation. I like to think that Cassidy casually integrates his cigars into his sex life, chewing on the end of one as he palms your ass, smoke pooling sensually in the air while he stuffs his thick fingers into your little hole.

He's a big fan of having you on top, but I wouldn't be fooled that it was an act of submission. Cassidy likes to grip your hips hard enough to bruise, bucking his hips up until you're chest to chest with him - allowing him to sink his fat cock just that little bit deeper that has you whining and drooling all over his skin.

Cassidy likes to hook a finger in your mouth, pulling your pretty swollen lips open so he can get a look inside, ensuring that you've swallowed every last drop of cum he's given you. Get a little on his fingers and he'll make you suck them clean, too.

Absolutely no shame. He'll whisk you out of meetings early for a quick, heated fuck against the storage closet wall - or maybe he feels extra daring that day - and slips his fingers under the hem of your skirt, pulling your panties to the side so his meaty fingers can get you nice and ready for when he fucks you into the bed later. All while he holds a steady conversation with Reinhardt across the table.

Oral is a must. Cassidy prefers not to sink his fat cock into you unless he’s worked you open with his mouth first - getting you nice and wet before he even dares place the engorged head of it at your sweet little hole - not even if you beg him. That being said, he's not opposed to have you on your knees, either. He'll palm your jugular gently, feeling himself through your warm throat as he chuckles down at you, drool pooling around the corners of your lips and down his thick shaft.

I can see him wanting to share his partner with another man, or at least have them take a big cock while he watches - humping into his hand like a needy little bitch whilst you look over at him - absolutely wrecked. A certain stern looking archer comes to mind...

#cole cassidy x reader #cole cassidy #overwatch 2 #overwatch x reader #headcanons #headcanon #smut #hanzo shimada #asks #request #requests

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notthecutesttrash · 2 months

Text

Grey (Pt. 2)

Warnings: Verbal + physical bullying, angst, language

Word count: 5.9k

PART 1, PART 3

In the morning you're about to run out before you see a little note next to a sweetly wrapped bento box on the kitchen table. It read, "I hope he likes it (: - Love mom."

God, that is so embarrassing.

But If your lies truly made her that happy, then fine, you didn't have the heart to stop it. You're just going to have to suck it up and wipe food out of your hair later.

Atsumu gazes longingly at you the moment you tread in carefully. He's even more smug looking then usual, if that's even possible. Worse is remembering that he's going to be coming by your house after practice. The nervousness spreads at the thought. You hope it runs late, or maybe he'd change his mind and decide it was weird.

Or maybe he could just ditch you and leave you with all the work. That idea didn't seem so bad anymore.

Why didn't you say Saturday or even yesterday? You had more than enough time.

The bell rings signaling a break. You grab your lunch and sigh.

The group of girls pass and Kiyoko sends you a grave scowl as if threatening what she'd do to you if you didn't follow. You stand up and exit the classroom, tailing behind them.

With a serious expression Atsumu observes their movements until you all leave.

Kiyoko leads you to one of the bottom floors no one goes to and signals a motion with her head. "Storage closet, now." You open the door for them, head lowered to the ground.

How pathetic. You're practically giving them an invitation to bully you.

You're slammed into the wall causing a topple of brooms and mops to fall at your side. Kiyoko holds you by your collar, and you still have your lunchbox clutched hopelessly in your hands. One of the other girls pulls it from you. There's a laugh when they share a gaze at the wrap.

"How cute. Your mom gave this to you?" One of them remarks, and you hesitate when the lid snaps open.

"Must've been. It looks disgusting."

Your back lifts then is slammed again, your head bouncing and hitting hard against the wall. Your knees collapse beneath you and an instantaneous sting is felt on your cheek after being slapped. Kiyoko's foot slams into your side and you hiss at the pain.

Just like that, your mom's sweetly cooked meal meant for your nonexistent crush pours over your head.

"And to think your poor mom is wasting her time cooking for you, what a waste."

The noodles are squashed into a mush at your scalp, mixing into your strands. Another kick hits your knee hard and you instinctively clutch it with a groan. A laugh erupts, and the empty box is slammed to the side. The door opens and they speak one last phrase to you that has you flinching.

"Just go die already."

Kiyoko scoffs when you say nothing, and the door closes.

A numbness swallows you whole.

You cried all your tears already, it wasn't anything new. The handle of one of the brooms falls into your lap, and a slop of spaghetti falls onto your shoulder. You glimpse up at the flickering ceiling light.

You'd usually take a few minutes to mull over the state of your life before you'd eventually get up, dust off your skirt, and go to the bathroom.

Cleaning the mashed noodles from your hair was as rough as cleaning out bits of wet rice grains. One by one, you pick it out, all while being forced to stare at your reflection. You hate how you look, and you wish you didn't have to see your pitiful face every time you went through this process.

Cold water pools into your hands and you splash it against your face. Wiping the sweat and grime off your skin was probably the only refreshing feeling that came of this, even if it was still pathetic. Your stomach growls.

"Yeah, I know.." You mutter to yourself, grabbing your bento to rewrap the cloth just as it was. All pretty and nice so your mom would never know how mistreated it was. Slapping your cheeks, you forcefully bring yourself to reality before going to class.

Your hand presses against your cheek, memorizing the glass window next to you. The trees are swaying, and it hurts a little that nothing in you even cared anymore.

"Why does she always smell like food every day?" A whisper is heard behind you. You sigh.

Thank god it was Friday. Even if 2 days at home didn't change anything from this reality, it was the only small escape you had.

Lazily waving, you greet your coach and the captain before starting practice. Lucy is the only one nice enough to grin at your arrival. You put your knee braces on and warm up. Your body is sore but you're still determined to stay on the team. This is the last hope you have to prove everyone wrong, you don't plan to mess it up now.

You take your position in the back and try to remember what Atsumu taught you. Knees bent at this angle, arms showing the front more, hands positioned like this, and you got it. When the whistle sounds you glue your vision to the volleyball. It flies over the net and you sidestep towards its direction.

Holding onto your breath, your arm touches the ball and sends it flying into the air. Lucy gasps and woo's, “Nice receive (Y/n!)" It takes you a moment to remember the game is still in play, but you're smiling happily. Miyu sets the ball and Angie spikes flawlessly against the blockers. A gleam sparkles in your eye.

"Don't get all excited, it was just one receive." Angie huffs, turning to you. You nod and get into position again. Lucy is serving, and hers are always difficult. Still, you don't back down, and you achieve your focus on the direction of the ball. It appears it's going to hit the side. Quickly it swerves towards you instead and you manage to bump it. Angie is blocked by two on the right, the left is covered by 1, and the center is in the back. Miyu jumps and eyes the left which makes the center switch direction.

With a thud, the ball falls to the ground. The whistle blows, pointing to your side, and the other groans.

"Seriously, a dump shot!?"

"I'll say, you even had me fooled." Lucy giggles, stepping to the next rotation.

Serve after serving you're effortlessly receiving the ball, and the excitement in your legs keeps up with the action. The adrenaline was making your heart stammer. You jump high to receive. Another spike is slammed your way and you dive, hitting the ball only with your wrist to send it shortly in the air. "Sorry! Cover!"

Miyu runs to your side and smacks it with her palm to send it up. It’s a little high, but Angie manages to spike it from the back, scoring a point. You throw your hands up in the air, wooing. Angie shoots you a small glare, annoyed, but not as harsh as the other days, and Miyu has a barely noticeable tug at her lips. The coach crosses his arms, seeming pleased.

You finally are back into your game. You aren't going to be the black sheep any longer.

Arms receiving a hard spike, the ball returns to the other side and Lucy spikes with all her might through the hands of 3 blockers for a perfect line shot. You run just in time and you attempt to receive it but it hits your side and bounces off. Combined with the kick Kiyoko sent you, it hurt a little more than you would've liked. A hiss escapes. Of course, just in time for Lucy to serve as well.

The volleyball is set in the air, and Lucy jumps to smack it down. It’s so fast your arms miss by a second and it flies past you. They score a point, and you breathe deep and concentrate. Lucy repeats the action, but you're there just in time for the ball. As you receive it, the force pushes you back and you hear a crack in your foot as it bends to the side. Groaning in pain, you clutch it desperately and the coach calls for a timeout.

"Are you okay (Y/n)?" A few teammates ask and you nod forcefully, pushing yourself to stand only to fall again. Lucy holds onto your hands to help you up and the pressure on your ankle cries out.

The coach has you sit on the bench. "It's just a sprain, no worry. Sit out for today."

There's a deep frown on your face. Fear and disappointment cascade on you. You're definitely going to be kicked off now.

The coach turns to you while you're lost in thought, wrapping your foot. A mind deep down a rabbit hole.

"You did well today." His tone is firm, but you know he means it. Surprised, you fixate on him and he's staring at the game ahead. A blush dusts your cheeks and you continue wrapping the sprain, a happiness blooming in your chest.

When practice ends you timidly apologize to Lucy who is walking your way. She pats your shoulder, "You did good today, don't worry. By Monday you'll be brand new again." You nod, blushing at the compliment.

"Thanks."

Comfortable silence falls, and you're just about finished wrapping your foot. All the girls left already, and you test your steps carefully, lightly applying pressure to your foot. It didn't hurt as bad with the cover which was good enough for you to walk home. You start humming happily while packing your things, completely lost in the clouds.

"Ready to go?"

The sound makes you squeak in fear. Your hand presses to your stammering pulse, and you see Atsumu smirking at your surprise.

You already forgot that was today, and you nervously shift your tone.

"Oh.. yeah.."

He waits for you to be a step in front of him so you can lead. God, why did you choose this option again? Yeah, maybe the girls would've been at the library, but they wouldn't do anything if he was there. You made the wrong choice. Ugh.

The walk is painfully awkward. it's silent, and feeling him at your side alone makes you incredibly nervous. He's pretty big and muscular for a normal volleyball player.

You perk to the sound of leaves swaying in the wind. Softly smiling, your hands grip your bag. You did something good today, the coach said so himself. This gives you the courage to speak. But.. mainly because the silence was becoming unbearable and you'd rather small talk at this point.

"How was.. your practice?" You shyly ask, and he appears a little surprised at the question. He snickers, and you pout. You knew it was a stupid question.

"Good."

Great keeping the conversation going (Y/n). It felt more unpleasant than before now.

He has that usual smirk, but his face looks relaxed. He takes his turn to speak.

"Heard you been receiving good now."

How fast does word get out? Sheesh. It must've been from one of the girls who hated you.

You scoff. "Let me guess, Miyu talks to you. Angie maybe?"

"No. Lucy. She seemed happy for you." Your face switches to shock. "I'm surprised honestly. Expected you to get kicked off the team. But I guess with my advice you made it hm?" He's annoyingly arrogant, but you're so caught up in the thought of Lucy being genuinely happy for you, her speaking to others about it, that you can't even notice. Your skin turns pink and warm.

"Yes, thank you."

He stops in place, and you're still walking, trapped in a daze.

"Hey." His harsh tone is enough to fearfully draw you out. You rotate to him, scared. Is this the time when he remembers who you are and bullies you?

Unexpectedly he pulls you close and his fingers graze your damp hair. You flinch at the contact, nervous, blushing at the closeness. He wanders beneath the layers as if searching for something. You're nervous, but you ease at the softness. You don't know what he was doing, or why, but it felt quite nice.

He swiftly pulls away and you blink up at his index and thumb that holds a piece of smushed-up spaghetti. You go blank, and he's staring at it the same.

He opens his mouth to speak. "Why do you have food in your hair?"

This was just about your luck.

"Oh look, my house is around here. My mom probably cooked dinner, I don't want to keep her waiting." Walking fast, you ignore him and keep your bag tight against you. He catches up to your speed promptly, silent, and your teeth grit against one another. You ignore him and fixate on the ground until you reach your home.

You stop in front of the home and bite your lip when your hand hovers above the doorknob.

Now you had to worry about your mom and dad embarrassing you even more.

You exhale a shaky breath. You just needed 1-2 hours, maybe even 3 and that was it. This would be done with, and the shame will die with you.

"Don't look so worried. I'm pretty good with parents." Atsumu has almost a relieving confidence in his voice

You nod and open it, instantly being greeted with a warm light. Your mother’s back is facing you, and she's at the stove, cooking. Your father wasn't home yet, he typically didn't come back till later.

"I'm home!"

You already know the moment that she turns around she's more than excited. Atsumu trails behind you, wearing a fake pleasant smile, and her eyes go wide.

"Miya Atsumu, a pleasure to meet you." He bows and your mother gasps.

"Oh, my-" You send her a quick glare that says don't you dare say anything bad. When Atsumu rose you fell into a smile again, giggling awkwardly.

"Come in dear, make yourself at home. You two must be starving." Your mother was already preparing the plates at the table.

You wave her off. "No Mom, really it's okay, we're fine."

She huffs, "nonsense. Come Atsumu, sit." Your brows knit together, and you open to deny the second time before Atsumu interrupts you.

“Actually, Miss (L/n) I am rather hungry, may I ask what you're making?" Atsumu walks ahead while you're stuck dumbfounded at the doorway. You scowl as he cozies up to your mother, and he returns your look with a smirk.

“I'm so glad you asked! It's one of my favorites actually." Your eye nearly twitches as he sits down, acting as if he's so intently listening to your mother ramble.

"It's rude to gawk (Y/n), sit down." She draws you out of the daze with a more serious tone. Yet you swear she's giving you the same smugness as he is.

You grumble incoherently, forcing yourself to sit down. Your mother stirs the food a little longer and then switches the heat off. Across from you, Atsumu is snickering quietly and, you're responding with a hardened glare. Once your mother turns, both of you are quick to politely beam as she sets the food on the table. You all share a pleasant thanks then begin serving yourself.

As awkward as this was, the moment the food touches your tongue, you're buzzing in delight. Your empty stomach greatly appreciates this.

"So tell me Atsumu, did you enjoy her lunch today?" Your mom chirps in.

You cough out, almost choking on a few grains. Your mother is smiling sweetly, completely oblivious. Here it was, this facade is going to be destroyed now.

"Yes actually. The spaghetti was wonderful." Your eyes widen as you fixate on Atsumu. He's mimicking that kind expression to your mom. and she's reveling in the fake news.

"You're going to catch flies if you keep gasping like that (Y/n)." She scolds you out of nowhere and he chuckles politely. You force yourself into normalcy, clearing your throat and eating, Truthfully you're greatly appreciating the lie Atsumu told.

You watch in your peripheral as he cracks a small joke that sends your mother chortling, a little too much. Although embarrassing, it was pleasant. He seems strangely at home and comfortable.

Atsumu offers to clean the dishes when dinner is finished and your mother waves him off politely. "No no, I couldn't ask you to do that. Don't fret dear, you two go upstairs and work on that project."

He nods, his tone filled with sugar. "If you need help at all, call me." It'd be convincing if you hadn't known how conniving he was.

"Oh my, what a nice kid." She nearly fangirls and you cringe. Once he rotates to follow you off to your room, that smug expression returns.

He lets out a tired sigh once the door closes, like being that fake was exhausting, and his eyes quickly turn serious. Admittedly, the thought of having him sit this close with you in your dimly lit bedroom, all alone, makes you feel.. sort of strange. You sit at your desk and take out your notebook, signaling for him to do the same

You're about to talk about the project details until you turn to see his darker expression. His tall stature or muscular build only aids in the way you shrink in comparison.

"Want to tell me why your mom asked me that?"

You still, mouth agape as you thought of what to say. Anything you'd say would only sound more pathetic than what he already thought of you. What could you think of that was better than your current situation? Gnawing at your bottom lip, you struggle to come up with a good answer. An awkward minute passes and you're still silent.

He slumps down next to you and sighs. "Fine, don't tell me."

You underestimated the space he took with the chair placement and his knee brushes up against your own. You pull away instantaneously, clearing your throat. His arm is nearly caressing yours and you shift uncomfortably.

“Um.. so, what part do you want to do?"

Atsumu ignores you to stare at your little pink standing pencil holder. His view then shifts to the stuffed animals on your bed, the color of the sheets, and the pink or rainbow pens you held. He stifles a giggle, and you turn a dark shade of red.

"Didn't think the teacher’s pet would be this type."

You shyly twirl your pencil around as you meekly ask, “What type?"

He leans back and smirks. "Pink, rainbows, little animal prints, you know, sort of the type to fangirl and go crazy over stupid things."

You mutter, annoyed. "Well, I’m not… I just like cute things."

"Good." He yawns obnoxiously, and you huff.

He is clearly getting way too comfortable, way too fast. If you didn't work on this now you'd have to do this weird meetup again. You peer at him expectantly. His hands cradle his head, elbows pointed out to opposite ends of the room. "Right." He remembers casually. "The project."

You nod. Yes, back to the topic at hand, finally.

"I already finished my side." He smiles and you blink in shock.

"What..?"

"Did it after practice yesterday, you know the day you were out "sick." He emphasizes that in a knowing way.

"Then..." You trail off, unable to find your words.

"I wanted to see if I was right about you. I have to say I’m pleasantly surprised. I expected neutral colors, not even a speck of dust, and zero decorations. I guess you're not as stuck up as I might've thought." He arrogantly speaks, and you're barely able to wrap your head around the situation. He acted like he wasn't done with his side, came over to your house, ate your food, cozied up to your mom, and entered your room, all to.. see your personality?

You ogle at him like he has 4 heads and he laughs. "Relax, it wasn't all for that, I'm not here to stalk you. We still gotta work together, it's not like i'd just be here for you alone." That comment kind of offends you but you ignore it.

It's quiet for a moment, and you straighten your back against the seat. "So.. what do you think I am then?"

He hums, then smirks. "You're a good girl. Sweet, and hardworking."

That shouldn't have made you blush like it did, and you avert your attention back to your work. Don't forget this is the man who made you cry only 3 days ago. He's just here to do minimal work and bully you.

"So.. do you want to merge our parts? Maybe you read mine, I read yours?"

Atsumu shrugs and takes out his notebook to slap it down in front of you. You give him yours and you open up his to find multiple pages, back and front of written work. He really worked hard on this.

He snickers at your shock. "Did you forget I have more skills than just volleyball too?" He taunts, reminding you of your previous comment. You frown.

"Sorry," you mumble.

You read from the top, and a few sentences in you're hooked to the way he writes so eloquently. The style is neat, and for being such an arrogant jerk all the time, he paid attention.

"It's not bad." Atsumu regards yours while flipping through the pages. "But you can work on your voice a little more."

You're visibly confused, and he further elaborates.

"This sentence, "if he was going to be out all day, then maybe he would-" it's too much over-explaining. You're losing the point in your nervousness." That is true.

"Just write "He is going to be out for the day." You glue to his words, nodding absent-mindedly. You lean to your notebook that's positioned closer to him, your arm brushing his unknowingly. He quietly fixates on you, and you point to another sentence.

"So.. like here, if I got rid of the "practically" or "really," then it will make the sentence more clear in this case?" You look up at him, eyes twinkling with some sort of excitement. He gazes for a little too long, and after a few seconds, he clears his throat.

"Yes."

You ah, but then slump.

"I like saying really's though. I feel like it puts more emphasis on something. Like if I were to say... I love ice cream! I'll say I really love ice cream, so they really understand how much I do." Your tone is energetic in a way he's never heard, and he can't help but smile.

"They'll know you do, just saying love is enough. Really, makes it a mouthful. Just make it simple. I love ice cream." The way you listen so intently to him has his eyes softening. You move to erase and rewrite, your lips pursing a little in concentration.

"Does that sound better?" You point your pencil to the new sentence, and he leans down to read it.

"Perfect."

You giggle a little and he gleams.

You blush and nervously fidget when you realize how hyper you're being. Your tone is a little more timid now, but it's eager as you point to another sentence. "Does this work together?"

"Try removing the "therefore."

Nodding, you hop back and forth between his writing and yours. His wasn't flawless, but you admitted, it was really good. He was so clear when he spoke, so to the point and confident, whilst yours was all muddled and scared.

You point at his sentence and compare it to one of yours. Erasing, you rewrite a sentence and shift the words around. You're so focused one would think he wasn't even there.

He's smiling and it begins to be a very pleasant exchange all up until he had to go.

Yet, after the exchange on Friday, no texts were exchanged with one another. You completed the project and that was that, no more communication.

There's a strange disappointment lingering in your chest. You wanted that, so why did it actually kind of hurt? Your mom even left you another nice lunch covered by a pretty wrap with a note nearby saying "packed extra for you and Atsumu to share (:" Shaking your head, you force yourself to move on to more important matters. All you need to focus on now is avoiding the group of bullies.

The bell rings, forcing you out of your thoughts. Rotating your head, Kiyoko catches your eye, and she grins evilly. She begins to remove herself from her desk. Here we go, you sigh.

You expect any minute for her to pass your desk, but she doesn’t, and you turn around, confused.

Kiyoko’s mouth is open in a gasp, and she’s paused, eyes glued to something moving. You follow her frantic view only to swiftly mimic it.

Atsumu was walking to you, directly to you. No, there was no way, right? That had to be wrong. He pauses a few inches from your seat, his hand holding his lunch. “Figured we’d polish our projects before tomorrow.”

“O-Oh, yeah of course.” You pull the notebook out that you had just packed up, and as you do that, you shoot a glimpse over to Kiyoko and the girls. She glares back at you a fit of fuming jealousy that knits her brows tight together. You’re relieved sure, but the fear of what they’d do to you once the period ends and you have 0 protection sets a pang of discomfort in you. But.. at least just for today, you can eat your food and not have to return to class with wet dirty hair.

When you’re not looking, Atsumu eyes the girls and they jump, their expressions changing from scowls to fear. They swiftly turn away.

“Here.” Atsumu places his bento on your desk, and you blink, confused.

There’s his smug smile, but it was softer strangely. “We wouldn’t want to disappoint your mother.”

You blush. Right.. that was true. He picks up yours in the cute cat wrap and chuckles at the pattern. Those were also now softer, and you hated to admit that it sent you the right kind of anxious butterflies. He unwraps the box and opens it, finding just enough food for 2. He is taken aback, yet eases quickly after, smiling sweetly. The sweetest you’ve ever seen, it's like you weren’t even meant to see it.

You shyly unwrap his and before opening it you nervously look at him. Opening your mouth to speak, his hand gestures to you. “Don’t ask if I’m sure or not, just eat it.” Although his tone was firm, it wasn’t as harsh as it always was either. You nod timidly and open it.

The smell of fried shrimp, sushi, and rice hits your nose. It was delicious looking, and after not having a good lunch for about 2 weeks, tears nearly protrude from your eyes.

“Thank you!” You hold your hands together and grab the chopsticks greedily. You slept late again. The dread of going to school last night kept you up enough to not be able to eat a proper breakfast again, so this was heaven-sent.

He takes a bite of your food and then pauses when he sees you scarfing up his meal like it was your last. Eventually, you catch him staring, and your face goes red. Bowing your head you shout, “Sorry!” and nonetheless, continue aggressively eating. He snickers to himself.

A few women in the class are almost frozen, their eyes deep-set in hatred and growling.

“He refused the lunch I made for him..” One girl mutters sadly to her friend who is also sunken.

“She’s eating his lunch.” Another girl across the class whispers.

“The nerve of her. He probably cooked that with all his time and love, and she’s inhaling it like a monster!” You’d think tears were running down this one’s face, she was that dramatic.

You clear your throat and place the cover onto the empty bento. The embarrassment is only now rushing to you when you realize Atsumu is only halfway done.

“Um.. thank you.. for sharing.”

He hums in acknowledgment while chewing on your mother’s cooking. “Tell miss (L/n) I loved it.” You blush and nod.

“I will..”

Kiyoko was practically twitching in a fury. She would get you back for this, whether you liked it or not.

Usually, you take your time to pack up your things once class ends for the day. You were always the last one out, but that always gave you some peace of mind. The hallways had a few students aiming around for who knows what, and there were no noisy bells or chatterers.

Today is a good day. Your stomach is happy, and you’re able to bring home a realistically empty lunchbox to your mother. No lies are to be created about how you shared it when you truly didn’t. Your hair is perfect, your clothes are clean, and you have a dull ache in your chest as you think of Atsumu sitting by you and eating. Why? You aren’t sure.

But you’re humming joyfully, feet walking slowly as a smile stains your face. Your foot is healed now, so you’ll be able to play. With the advice he gave you, you’re receiving plenty too. Prancing outside, you take a turn, making your way towards the gym, now nearly skipping in delight. The trees are wavering again, and the smell of sweet grass pierces your smell pleasantly.

You’re about to take another turn until you hear a voice that makes you stop dead in your tracks.

“What is taking so long?”

“Are you sure she didn’t take another route? Or go home for that matter?”

“She’ll be here, relax.”

Your heart speeds in your throat, and your feet feel anchored to the ground. They don’t see you yet, if you run they won’t know. Just turn back now, quietly, and you’ll be free for today. Walk slowly and avoid them. You silently rotate your legs, afraid even the dirt beneath you will make an obvious sound.

Your eyes meet with one of the girls in your class, and you frightfully gasp. Her hands are on her waist and she’s smirking. Your shoulders are shoved hard and a yelp escapes as you fall to the ground. It’s enough for Kiyoko to see your figure, and that same devilish grin stretches ear-to-ear. Panicking, you try to scramble away only for one girl to step behind you and threaten any further movement.

Kiyoko meets your terrified eyes, and she’s snickering, tilting her head.

“What, you thought you wouldn’t get your treatment today because Atsumu-san sat by you?” she scoffs and you’re shaking your head desperately.

“You know he only is doing this because of the project right? Tomorrow it’ll be back to normal, he won’t care anymore, and you’ll be treated the same old again.” Kiyoko giggles, and you’re eyes are still wide in fear.

Your shoulders are being held down by the girl behind you, and Kiyoko’s smile suddenly drops. A slap makes your chin turn from the impact, the sting burning into your cheek.

“I thought of something fun today.” Her hands grab at something behind her, and there’s a sharp gleam as she fixates on you. She pulls out a pair of scissors and you flinch when she holds it up to your throat. She reaches around to pull your hair, angling your neck into it. You don’t dare gulp or inhale, and you’re gritting your teeth at the pain of her fingernails digging into your scalp.

She angles her lips at your ear, whispering darkly. “I’m going to make you look more hideous than you already are. Then no one will look at you.”

Her tight grip leaves. You breathe in relief before she grabs a fistful of your locks and opens the scissors wide.

It’s about to snap shut on your hair before she speaks again. “If you talk to him again I’ll-“

“You’ll what?”

Kiyoko’s fingers waver, and she immediately becomes as stiff as a board. Her breath hitches, and your view is blocked by her body until she moves to the side, her grip on your hair escaping. Instantaneously the pressure on your shoulders releases too.

Atsumu is there, standing a few feet away from your forms, hands pressed to his waist. His eyes are serious and he’s not even smiling like he always is. You’re just as surprised, and you almost fall back to the ground without a stable grip on your shoulders.

“Ah,” he hums, a fake unpleasant lightness in his voice. “I knew well this was going to happen after I disturbed your little lunch get-together.” He tilts his head to the side, the ending of his words darkening. “Didn’t I?”

Kiyoko and the women are stammering, shaking, unsure of what to do or say. “A-Atsumu! I-I-” He motions his arm up, and his expression dulls coldly as he makes a closed fist. They mutually shut their mouths like they're being trained.

“To think you squealing pigs made me miss out on practice because of this.” His tone is low, an unquelled irritation bouncing in each syllable. They flinch, unexpecting him to sound so harsh. He sighs, slumping his form. It’s silent for a few seconds until he looks up again, a grave darkness shifting in him.

“You disgust me. Now get out of my sight.” His words come out like a screech in the silent atmosphere, and their breaths halt in their throat.

The one behind you instinctively dashes on her heels and sprints fast. Another near Kyoko does the same, a third following her until she is the last remaining. She stands peering at you and him, and he’s glaring as if prepared to rip her to shreds.

A frustration boils in her face and she forces herself to throw the scissors onto the ground, making you flinch. She can’t even muster a sharp glare as she looks at you. Instead she seems frustrated, ashamed, and hesitant. Her fists ball and clench tight before evidently leaving.

You’re still stuck replaying the horrific scene, and a terrible silence erupts. Atsumu’s glower disappears, and he’s suddenly above you, holding his hand out to you.

Pathetic… you're so pathetic.

You smack his hand away and his eyes widen.

“I don’t need your help.”

You pull yourself to your feet even if it hurts, revealing your back to him.

Anger. Embarrassment. Sadness. Disappointment. When you would go home today, you’d Slam your bedroom door shut, curl into your sheets, and weep into your pillow.

But for right now, your soles remain anchored to the ground, adamant on showing him that you aren’t just going to be a baby and cry, even if tears are threatening to escape.

You spoke as firm as can be, your voice cracking a little. “Just go away.”

It takes a moment before you can hear him finally walking away. All you can imagine is that his uncaring smirk is back like nothing happened.

A minute or two passes, and when you’re sure he’s gone, tears stream down your cheeks. You wipe them with the end of your sleeve, sniffling helplessly.

You just want to go home.

#x reader #fanfic #angst #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #bully x reader #anime x reader #miya twins #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #x female reader #anime

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sad-not-glad · 9 months

Note

could you do a soft Dom Steve x sub bucky x soft Dom sick reader?

where bucky wakes up all subby and wants his mama. he goes to look for her and cannot find her, he starts to cry but then Steve comes around the corner and tells bucky that mama has the flu and is lying in bed to sleep. Bucky than ask Steve if he can help mama feel better. Steve says yes, they spend the day helping the reader get better.

Hey love!! I’m so sorry it took me a while to get back with you, but it’s finally here! I wrote reader’s illness so it could either be just a bad flu, or a chronic illness since I deal with those and flare ups can be terrible aha. The ending is a little rushed and not my favorite but… I’m too lazy to fix it. Hope you enjoy!!

Soft Dom Steve x Reader x Sub/Little Bucky

Warnings: Bucky is scared of being abandoned, but that doesn’t actually happen. Illness. Other than that, just a whole lot of fluff.

(Part of the Sharing is Caring AU)

Blinking awake, Bucky was met with the comforting space of the shared bedroom. Steve’s sketches were littered on the walls, a couple of your nicknacks spread around. Even his own collection of books, stacked neatly on the shelf in the corner.

He could feel it, already brewing inside. The need to be coddled and cared for. The need to be nothing more than a good boy who pleased his Mama and his Captain. But they weren’t here. The bed was empty, only slightly warm. A whine huffed up from his chest as he rolled over on his back- where were you both? You were supposed to be here, covering your baby boy in kisses and compliments.

Bucky shuffled onto his feet, taking his time collecting comfortable clothes before putting them on. One of Steve’s sweaters you had stolen and been wearing for a week, it smelled like both of you. His softest sweats, the fluffy socks with silly cartoon cats on them. You and he had almost convinced Steve that a cat would be a great addition to the little family you had made together.

All cozied up and surrounded by the scent of his lovers, he stepped out of the bedroom at last. The little apartment area was quiet, which was unusual. If you and Steve were awake first, it usually meant the team had come for breakfast. Meaning lots of noise. So the silence piqued his curiosity, urging him further down the hall. He checked the bathroom, empty. So was the office, and even the little storage closet that you loved so much. (Mostly because it’s where you hide all the good snacks)

You both must be in the kitchen, he thought to himself. He needed his Mama, he needed his Captain, he needed to be a good boy and receive praises from you both. That he was kind and sweet, how proud you were and how much you loved him. Bucky was already thinking of breakfast, he would probably find his Mama and Captain cooking something. Maybe he could help! He was good at mixing things, and stealing the yummy bits when nobody was watching him. He was a renowned fruit thief.

Much to his disappointment though, Bucky found the rest of the house empty. The living room, dining room, kitchen, he walked through them all four times. And the only trace of life he found was a discarded soup can next to the sink. The silence was deafening, but somehow the heartbeat in his ears was louder. It felt like the ground had been pulled from beneath him, falling down a spiral of anxiety.

Were you hurt?

Maybe there was a mission nobody told him about?

Had you two gone out for breakfast without telling him?

Did you leave him?

Was he… alone?

It was as if the walls were caving in, stomach cramping with terror and bile rising in his throat. Bucky hadn’t even realized he was crying until then, but once he did it was like the tears wouldn’t stop. He was gasping for air, vision blurry as he wiped desperately at his eyes. Maybe this was his fault somehow. He was needy and damaged, never a good combination in his own opinion. Wasn’t he doing better though? Clearly not if his Mama and Captain both had left him-

“Bucky?”

He spun around wildly, already reaching out for the voice of his Captain. Bucky was swept up against a firm chest and the cries let loose. Steve was gentle and patient, petting his hair and shushing his tears until the poor man was able to form coherent words again. “Thought…I thought you were gone.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Steve sighs, pulling back so he could clean the brunette’s face with gentle hands and a soothing voice.

“We would never leave you, and you know that. (Y/N)- Mama is sick, baby. She’s not feeling good today, we were in the guest bedroom so we didn’t disturb you baby boy. M’ so sorry, I should have let you know.”

The guest bedroom, that made sense. He hadn’t even thought to look in there, it was never used for anything. None of you had family to visit, and all your friends also lived within a reasonable distance for daily visits. Bucky looked up at his Captain, eyes still wet with tears, face red and puffy from crying already.

“Mama’s sick? Can I help her be better?” He felt so small, he really just wanted to be useful somehow. Especially if his sweet Mommy wasn’t feeling good. You didn’t get sick often, but when you did it was never pleasant. Bucky had seen it on occasion, the underlying illness in your body flaring up with a vengeance. It left you nauseous, weak, miserable. And he didn’t want his Mama to be miserable.

“Of course baby boy, you want to help make her some tea?” He gives a little nod and is rewarded with his Captain’s charming smile. They take their time making the tea, Steve giving his baby boy extra love for the fright he endured and explaining a little more. You had been throwing up- and Bucky needed his sleep. He had been on too many missions lately. So you insisted on moving to the spare room, hoping he could get some extra rest. Next time he would definitely have to write a note to make sure your sweet boy didn’t worry like this again.

The tea was finished with no spills. Bucky held the mug close to his chest and walked carefully down the hall, his Captain following with a fond chuckle. He was shuffling his cat socks, pausing if the drink shook too much with that cute pout of concentration on his face. Once at the door he stopped, and Steve could see the gears in his boy’s head turning. How was he supposed to open the door? Sure, he could hold the mug with just one hand. But… it was hot, and he was holding it with his sleeves. The mug would slip away before he could open the door, and all his mama’s tea would be on the floor.

His pondering was answered as a large body wrapped around his back. Reaching around the man, Steve turned the knob and gently pushed the door ajar before urging Bucky inside. He knew that seeing your baby boy would immediately help you to feel better.

Bucky peeked through the gap, eyes landing on the mess of sheets and pillows on the bed. There was a small bin at the side, there in case you got sick. Discarded soup and water on the nightstand, curtains pulled tightly together. You hadn’t even noticed him yet, face buried in the sheets and you wrestled with the ache in your bones. His heart pulled together, his poor Mommy. You were clearly miserable.

As quietly and carefully as he could manage while still balancing your tea, Bucky shuffled his way inside. He could hear you groan from your spot on the bed, moving a little faster at the sound until he arrived at your beside.

“Mama…?” There was a shuffle, and you peered out from the sheets. The sight you were greeted with was just…precious. Your sweet Bucky, wrapped up in your favorite sweater to steal from Steve, a mug that smelled nearly diving held carefully in his hands. He was watching you with a nervous smile, presenting the tea for you to drink. “Here you go, made tea so you feel sick no more.”

Heart melting in your chest, you took the mug and gently set it to the side on the nightstand. Bucky was confused, you could see the pout forming as he began to think the worst. But before your baby boy had time to spiral, you lifted the blankets and reached out for him. “Thank you, sweetheart. But right now Mommy just want lovin’ from her best little boy.” The smile that lights his face could heal anything as he slid into the space provided, curling his large body up against your chest. You smoothed back his hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead before fussing with the blankets. Steve stepped up, taking over and tucking the comforter around you both with a fond grin. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, now that I have my baby.”

The blanket shook with a little giggle, you and Steve sharing a small kiss. Sick days were unavoidable sometimes, but they were always easier with both your boys at your side.

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mcflymemes · 1 year

Text

PROMPTS FROM RED, WHITE & ROYAL BLUE * assorted (and slightly adapted to suit this meme format) dialogue from the book by casey mcquiston, adjust as necessary

on purpose. i love him on purpose.

i've always thought of myself as a problem that deserved to stay hidden.

i'm going to have you offed. you'll never see it coming.

take anything you want and know you deserve to have it.

get in there.

you're literally putting your dick in the leader of a foreign state.

before you, i was all right letting everything happen to me.

i can't believe even mortal peril will not prevent you from being the way you are.

sorry, are we not? did i skip ahead again?

you've been warned.

he died as he lived: avoiding plans and sucking cock.

my life is a cosmic joke and you're not a real person.

hey, have i told you lately that you're brave?

i honestly have never thought i deserved to choose.

we're gonna make it work. you and me and history, remember?

if you finish that sentence, i'm gonna spend tonight in jail.

but the truth is, also, simply this: love is indomitable.

i actively wish for the sweet release of death.

yes, good, carry on.

i won't hear a word against it.

we're gonna do it together.

i said you look great, baby!

i meet you in every dream, and when i wake i cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness.

i'm so in love i could die.

you can take your legacy and your decorum and you can shove it up your fucking arse.

i wonder if it's too late to swan dive off the roof.

i'm learning all your hidden depths today, sweetheart.

you must invent an entirely new system.

a curious thing about grief is the way it takes your entire life, all those foundational years that made you who you are, and makes them so painful to look back on.

he's proof that it doesn't matter where you come from or who your family is.

i've bloody well had it!

we can unpack the ironic symbolism later.

that's beyond our sense of decorum!

i'm not afraid of anything i feel. i'm afraid of saying it. i'm only afraid of what happens when i do.

aw, you do care.

if there's any legacy for me on this earth, i want it to be true.

straight people probably don't spend this much time convincing themselves that they're straight.

the moment you first called me a prick, my fate was sealed.

you are the absolute worst idea i've ever had.

should i tell you that when we're apart, your body comes back to me in dreams?

can you perhaps stop putting your sodding life in danger now?

what are we even defending here?

history will remember us.

when i sleep, i see you.

i hate this so much.

every person who bears a legacy makes the choice of a partner with whom they will share it with.

we're just gonna fucking fight.

he is my choice.

i can appreciate that maybe this isn't your fault.

i've been gay as a maypole since the day i came out of mom.

when i wake up in the morning, it feels like i've just been with you.

i can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache.

your spine's a ridge i'd die climbing.

for a few moments, i can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all.

the phrase 'see attached bibliography' is the single sexiest thing you have ever written me.

i promise you, one day we'll be able to just be, and fuck everyone else.

give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart. there's so much of you.

i want to set myself on fire, but i can't afford for anyone to see me burn.

you see, for me, memories are difficult.

never tell me the odds.

i wish there weren't a wall.

jesus christ, it's like they can see into your soul.

you're it, okay? i'm never gonna love anybody in the world like i love you.

i'm finished. i don't care.

god, i want to fight everyone who's ever hurt you.

the whole world watched, and history remembered.

are you quite finished?

just so we're clear. i'm about to have sex with you in this storage closet to spite your family.

you insane, hopeless romantic little shit.

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indiweb · 4 months

Text

승한 、 SEVEN MINUTES WITH BRACEFACE. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀╰⠀ft. loser nerd!hong seunghan.

cuidado ⋆ she!her pns. fem!reader. suggestive. [.4k]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ﹙ 라이즈 ﹚

" GOSH , Y'ER SO FREAKIN' PRETTY. "

waves of ecstatic admiration blow like breezes on the seashore. eyes locked and hearts stopped , gazes of raw adorning gush out like a weeping festival. the vibrant doe-eyes nerd!seunghan has for you , unlike any other. heartstrings putter much of a harp in an orchestra , your mere stare absolutely suffocating.

glances pondering afar ; no matter what class you two shared , nerd!seunghan seemingly always found you within the horde of classmates. like a needle in a haystack , he pretentiously found you with ease , lingering glimpses being stolen at any given moment you seemed to wisp his peripheral.

eyes bore a striking glint , milky way irises any man could get lost within. mouth—watering , plump lips , he could ever dream of touching. pleading. kissing. like forbidden fruit plucked from a ripe tree , nerd!seunghan craved your existence ; a blossom longing for the sun.

── sketched , fantasies compiled his notebooks , each as detailed as the next. desires flailing in the wind like dried petals. self awareness wasn’t friendly , he knew that vigorously. status quo was in ; glasses , not so much. braces alike , the hierarchy kept his confidence at ease , knowing his place amongst the ranks.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀seated diligently atop the food chain , you nevertheless flashed smiles at the boy who remained alongside the prawns. flaunted grins that led to shared breaths being swapped within the enclosure of a five-by-five storage closet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀sleek digits sank into the skin of his flesh , guiding his neck closer to your own whilst lips overlapped one another. groans shared breaths , feet stumbling over the other. arms reeled behind as he stripped himself of his jacket. your thumbs caressed his jaw , pulling him back with yourself prior to thumping into the wall.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀fireworks eroded his insides , a jungle of organs entwining within each other like rabid animals. blemished hues tattered his fair skin , like a rainbow after a storm.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀insobriety , one would think. inebriation. intoxication? though your precious lips said otheriwse. as temperance as his own. a tempting sobriety , it told him you wanted it as much as did he. nothing more could send him into a frenzie , his paced actions hastened with some lenience towards your thighs.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀wild fire spread faster than thoughts. rougher than lots. how his sudden change in direction alluded moans from you. his skilled aiding a back arch into his grasp. wrapped arms snaked his shoulders much of a cobra to its prey , passion infusing itself between the two of you. not a moment was spared as tongues danced along the insides of mouths , lathering them in each others essences.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀hissed whines sputtered your distended lips , sparks decorating your flesh whilst his fingertips delved your hips and marked them as his own. carnal desires eloped his mind , aggressions growing and sensuality bestowing.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀" ca— can i? " pleads laced his rotted words , eyes targeting the hems of your cardigan.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀" whatever y’want , bebé " haste yet sultry , your words guided his eager inclinations , seunghan lowering himself with kitten kisses trailing your clothing.

SINCERELY , YOURS TRULY Ξ ©SEUNITAS, 2024

#★̶̲ 𓍢 ⋆ r. éymbles !#kpop #kpop x reader #riize #riize x reader #seunghan #seunghan x reader #riize seunghan #hong seunghan #kpop drabbles #kpop headcanons #kpop bg #riize x imagine #riize imagines #riize smut #riize scenarios #riize fluff #female reader

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adhd-coyote · 2 months

Note

Hi hello! Good morning!

Could I interest you in my Seventeen/Fives agenda and #32? 💜

Good morning, you may indeed! I had a lot of fun writing this one ;3

32 - A kiss while someone watches

Fives can’t get his fucking head on straight.

Your head has never been on straight, Fives, the little voice that sounds like Echo’s teases. Fives mentally flips him the bird. He’s having a difficult fucking time right now, alright? His brain is swimming in whatever drugs they’ve put in him, his head is still pounding from fucking brain surgery, and all of Kamino is on high alert looking for him. This is the only time he’s regretted tattooing his number on his forehead. It’s easy to blend into a crowd of people who share your face until you have a marker to set you apart.

He sends a silent apology to the Shiny he’s shoved into a storage closet and slips out, clad in stolen armor. It’s lighter than what he’s used to, missing all of the extra weight that comes with his ARC kit, but it’ll help him blend in, and right now that’s the most important thing.

There’s chips in their heads. Godsdamned mind control chips in every single vod’s head. Gods, Fives feels like he’s gonna be sick.

Keep it together, Fives. You’re a fucking ARC Trooper, act like it.

Easier said — or thought — than done.

Fives forces himself to take slow, even breaths as he marches down the hall in perfect form. It’s difficult, with his foggy head and racing heart, but he manages. Squads of troopers run past him, unaware how close their prey is, and Fives prays to the little gods that they stay unaware.

“Everyone’s looking for you, verd’ika.”

Fives freezes. Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. Alpha-17.

He should have kept walking. Gods, why did he freeze? He could have played it off, now he’s given himself away-

“The hell did you do to cause such a scurry, huh?”

“Please,” is the first word out of Fives’ mouth. “I’ve- I’ve found something, something important, they’re gonna reconn me, sir, please, you can’t-”

“Easy, verd’ika.” Alpha-17’s large hand cups the back of Fives’ neck. On instinct, the tension bleeds away from Fives’ limbs, leaving him pliant in 17’s hold. He looks up, terrified, and meets eyes that look softer than Fives has ever seen before. “C’mon, let’s get you outta here.”

17’s hand leaves his neck and Fives is left scampering after him as he stalks off. He feels like he’s back in ARC training, trailing behind 17, desperate to prove himself worthy of Rex’s recommendation. “Off-planet? You- You’re helping me?”

17 looks back at him, eyebrow raised. “Did you forget I trained you? You’re a smart one, verd’ika, even if you don’t look it. I knew something was up when they wouldn’t tell us why we were after you. But you’re a long talker, and we don’t have time for that, so I’m just gonna have to trust that you’ve got a good reason.”

“I do!” Fives assures, struggling to keep up with 17’s long strides. Normally, he wouldn’t have any issue, but the drugs have made his thoughts slow and his limbs heavy. Alpha-17 puts a hand to the small of his back and pushes him faster. Fives stumbles, but manages to keep up without falling. He realizes the way they’re positioned is deliberate- Fives is between 17 and the wall, and 17’s bulk hides most of him from view. Not to mention that Fives looks a lot less suspicious walking with him than by himself.

“Here.” 17 drags him into what Fives recognizes as a private hangar. He immediately clocks someone else — General Ti — and straightens, hoping beyond hope that she won’t recognize him, already knowing she does.

“Good, you’re here. I’ve prepared the ship for takeoff, you need to leave right now.”

“Wh- What?”

Alpha-17 rolls his eyes and nudges him forward. “She’s helping, too. Got one of those weird Force feelings or whatever.”

General Ti nods, offering a soft smile. “Yes. The Force wants you to escape. So you must leave, now. 17 and I will stall them.”

“Oh.” Fives swallows around the ball in his throat. “Thank you.”

Alpha-17 snorts. “No thanking, verd’ika.”

He takes Fives’ helmet and lifts it away. Fives doesn’t get a chance to wonder why he’s done that, because suddenly there’s a large hand cupping the back of his neck and lips pressed to his. He’s still trying to process that when 17 pulls away, smirking, and squeezes his neck. “Go on, get going. Don’t get yourself killed, and there might be more of that later, verd’ika.”

“Y-Yes sir,” Fives stammers out, reeling. He’s got so much emotional whiplash right now, and no idea how to handle it.

“Fives.” Oh shit, right, General Ti is still here. And saw that. Shit. “There is enough supplies to last you a week on the ship. Go, now, and hurry.”

“Right.” Fives nods quickly, and with one last look at Alpha-17, scrambles aboard the ship and prepares to take off.

Kiss ask game

#ask game #kiss ask game #kiss prompt #arc trooper fives #alpha 17 #fives/17 #star wars #the clone wars #tcw #clone troopers #cloneshipping #fanfiction #my writing

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twistedwonderlandshenanigans · 2 months

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Pet Sitter AU

So anyways ummm I've had this locked and loaded for a while. It's not complete. Buuuut it's a comfort AU for me so I shall talk about it when I need it most! (Like rn) I have more I'll add eventually, but if you have any world-building questions lmk!!!

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The premise/the basis of all this is Cater needs to get away from home when he's finally at his breaking point and ends up leaving, no plans, nothing packed, just his wallet, his phone + charger, and the clothes on his back. He ends up calling in an old favour to Trey, a classmate he hasn't seen or spoken to in years, who comes to pick him up off the street and lets him stay in his apartment he shares with Che'nya until Cater can get back on his feet.

Cater recognizes he needs to get his shit together, but he's a depressed mess and has largely been isolated from other people besides his family, so when another person in the apartment needs a last minute pet sitter, he figures it's a small enough task he can handle.

this is based off of this comic

In which Idia has a skrunkly ass stray cat named Meat Spud (Cater does not want to touch it whatsoever bc it has. no fur. He's used to his sister's big fluffy spoiled cats)

The Apartment

So like. Idk, my brain liked the idea of each floor of an apartment building being more luxurious than the floor below it. Im by no means an architect or have any bg in this stuff, apologies if it like. Irks anyone sldkjfhlskdjf

it's a 15 story apartment building with roof access

- First Floor - Apartments are one bedroom, a kitchen and a living room, as well as a small "porch" area outside. There are communal bathrooms + laundry. Unfurnished Rent is ~$560 a month (about 20 apartments are available) There's also a communal deep freeze for anyone who needs more room for their food, but the apartment is not responsible for any losses that may occur.

- Second floor - Still one (larger) bedroom/kitchen/living area, but you get your own bathroom (woo), but the shower is like. the same design as a public shower, you know? like just the spout coming out from the wall. Tenants are still expected to use the laundry room on the first floor though. Small balcony/outdoor area. Comes with a bed + couch. Rent is ~$610 a month (about 15 apartments available)

- Third floor - options for two bedroom apartments become available, but the rooms are Very Small. Balcony is about the same size as the second floor. There is room for a small dining area. The bathroom has a free standing shower. Rent is ~$660 a month (Also about 15 apartments available) Rent has some variation depending on whether you get a furnished or partially furnished apartment

- Fourth floor - More spacious in general, better options for two bedroom spaces if needed, there is a gym on this floor which kinda cuts into how many apartments are available. Most are partially furnished, but there are options available/the lease is negotiable to a certain extent. Still just a free standing shower in the bathroom. Yes there's still a balcony. Rent is ~$700 a month (only about 7 apartments available because of the gym)

- Fifth floor - Tenants finally get their own laundry machines lkjshdfkjdf woo, more spacious, etc. they get a bath + shower combo in the bathroom + a decent sized balcony. They can opt in/out for once a month room service for an additional $50 a month (this increases by $10 the higher the floor but remains an option). Rent is ~$800 a month (about 10 apartments available)

- Sixth to eighth floor are all about the same, just getting slightly bigger (like by 1-3 square feet) as they go up, but they all become two bedroom options. Rent falls between ~$850-$870 with about 8 apartments available on each floor.

- ninth to twelveth floor are all about the same, they get a shower and a bath in their (2) bathrooms, like they're separate from each other, they have walk in closets in the master bedrooms, and they get a storage room. They still are 2 bedroom. Rent falls between $1100 - $1350 a month (only 6 available on each floor)

- there is a thirteenth floor, but it's not an option on the elevator. The owners of the apartment are superstitious and don't rent out any rooms on the thirteenth floor, but wanted to HAVE a thirteenth floor bc...in the event there are ghosts or something in their apartment they would be stuck on the floor with the most energy?? Idk man. Nothing is furnished. Just empty rooms. "Empty" Rooms. :)

- The fourteenth floor is like. luxury apartments. they get the whole shebang with walk in closets for every (3) bedroom, full bathrooms (2) huge livingroom, huge kitchen with up to date appliances, and once a month there's a full course meal that's just brought to the tenants for dinner. They're living the high life for the same price a lot of people are sharing a house with four people withs flkjshdlkjfsdf Rent is ~$2000-$2100 a month. There are only 4 of these apartments, the balcony wrapping around each one

- and of course, the fifteenth floor. Literally. It's like having an actual house to live in but you get a great view of the city from above. It's ridiculous. four bedrooms, 3.5 bathrooms, like it's just big and beautiful and bright. as for the food, it's "complimentary" (factored into rent) and happens every other week. Or it would if the people living up there didn't opt out of it lsdkjfhlksdjf the apartment owners don't care it saves them money. Rent is ~$2500 a month.

And you might be like. hey. that rent doesn't actually sound that bad.

I know.

I know. Like I share Half a house with four other girls and the total rent per month is $3100. My rent alone is $575. But I wanted to be nice (I did not plan out the rent before this and I simply do not care enough to change it I think I'm being "reasonable" with it)

ONTO THE CHARACTERS

Okay:

Basement

- Jamil (22) – Yeeeah baby he gets the whole basement to himself. Almost. Like there’s a section for all the maintenance and storage stuff, but he gets to live at the hotel rent free because he’s friends with the owners (the Asim’s), and works for them at the front desk. He doesn’t even have to do the cleaning. It’s the freakin’ dream. In order to actually make money though, he does have side gigs so he can deck out the basement however he wants + do what he wants for fun. He has plans to keep snakes eventually, but he’s saving up for his dream enclosure as well as the extra heat lamps he would need for down there.

First Floor

- Ace (21)- Ace's mother divorced their dad she found out about some of the bad habits he had been up to. Just a little over a year ago, his mom became extremely ill and his big brother Jack became the main provider of the family, trying to take care of their mom and his little brother. Ace knew he wasn't outwardly being a burden, but he still felt like one and decided to save up and move out. Shortly after moving out, he lost his job, so he's desperately been searching for another one, but also been doing what he can as a little entrepreneur. Nothing's been super successful yet, which has been super discouraging but he has a couple repeat clients for his stickers that he makes. He also has 4 pet hamsters which he keeps on a live stream most of the time, (they're all named after card games). All he has for furniture is a desk, two rickety old chairs he probably found in an alley somewhere, his mattress and a dresser. His place is a bit of a mess with the stress he's under, and he's had to ask Jack for money a couple times which only makes him feel worse.

- Riddle (18)- Riddle has been playing violin since he was just A Baby (like 3) and had been on fairly good terms with his mother. She encouraged him to move to the city as a means of giving himself more opportunities, and she would pay for his rent. A few months in, Riddle realizes oh shit. I'm gay. And decides to come out to his mother because he has no reason to believe she wouldn't take it well. Well. she doesn't. She immediately disowns him and stops paying his rent for him. He can barely pay for one month on his own, and decides he needs a roommate. He did not really....do any digging into his roommate because he was just desperate to have one...(eventually, when things get better, he gets a pet hedgehog)

- Ruggie (21) - Riddle's Roommate :) He's the only reason Riddle's apartment is furnished, because he manages to find things on sale or on the street or whatever and clean it up. He thought Riddle was joking when he said he wanted to be a musician In This Economy. Ruggie doesn't mind one bit sleeping on the couch. He keeps himself sustained through whatever means necessary. (Doesn’t really want a pet because of the cost, but likes Riddle’s hedgehog a lot)

Second Floor

- Rook (24) – Rook is a blue collar worker, I think in construction? He owns a really old, well behaved golden lab and a brand new, very energetic bichon frisee puppy. They absolutely adore each other. He has no contact with any of his family.

- Deuce (19) – Moved out to be closer to work. He’s currently an apprentice as a mechanic, but on the side he offers blastcycle modifications (so long as they’re legal), and also babysits! He ends up adopting like 4 German Shepard mix (unknown, they’re not purebred) puppies with his roommate because they were both too much of bleeding hearts to give them away or sell them once they found them. It was already tight, (spaciously), because their one bedroom was already split in half with a paper divider, but they surrendered the livingroom to the puppies. Money wise, it is a little tight.

- Epel (19) – Deuce’s roomie. He was the one who found the puppies. He tried to leave them, he really did but Then He Couldn’t. Epel’s family supports him because their farm is successful, it’s not ‘a lot’ but they send him about $150 a month just to help out in the big city. Epel met Deuce at work, his lease was almost up and asked if he could move in because Deuce was venting a little bit about rent. Epel is apprenticing as a fabricator – he’s already a pretty good mechanic because of the upkeep he had to do on the farm, but fabrication seemed fun, profitable, and secure so he decided to try it out. Lowkey has a goal to get into all the trades as an apprentice eventually. He also has his own blastcycle and does late night delivery service as a side gig.

- Jack (19) – Moved to the city to go to school. He wrote home about how he felt really…lonely without his family, and his mom ended up gifting him a Samoyed puppy the next time he came home. She sends him money for all puppy related expenses, and he works part time at a fast food restaurant to help sustain his rent. He’s going to school on a scholarship for his athleticism, and could technically afford a nicer apartment, but he’s trying to be smart with his money. He’s also working to develop his own fitness trainer app because he wants to help people exercise to feel good, not necessarily to loose weight or anything.

- (Nameless OC) – She’s like a 75 year old widow who has a crush on her upstairs neighbour on floor 4. She’s adorable, she’s a little Korean grandma. Every now and then her daughter comes to visit. Her daughter is the one who ends up adopting (human) Grim + Gidel (both friends with Ortho) (Jack helps her bring up her groceries a lot)

Third Floor

- Jade + Floyd (21) – They actually live in a single room apartment, because they toured both a two bedroom and single room and found that they could make more use of bedroom space in a single room. They’ve never met Azul in this AU (I’ll explain this later in ‘relationships’) and are fairly new to land. Jade’s side of the room is all terrariums, his isopods and springtails are his baaaaabies. Floyd has a huge glass enclosure on his side of the room for his Albino Burmese Python. He thought it was a ball python when he first got it. Uh. Yeah. He puts in a lot of work and sourcing people who can teach him how to care for it properly, he’s a great snake dad. When it’s available, Jade will feed the shed skin of Floyd’s snake to his isopods. Floyd also retains some of his strength from having been a mer, so it’s not entirely uncommon for him to answer the door with a snake scarf. They’ve both got working Visas for now to be on land, and Jade is working towards figuring out all the paperwork to become land citizens for both of them. Jade works in a greenhouse, but also sells custom terrariums, Floyd works at a pizza place and LOVES it.

- Trey (23) – He works at his parents bakery basically for free, as they make sure he has enough to cover his rent, groceries and phone bills. He only moved out to escape the chaos that is his household of (hc) 11 children. He is a volunteer firefighter, and the apartment Loves him because he brings leftover treats the bakery can’t sell anymore and just gives them out. Also just. The third floor smells great, all the time because he’s always baking something or other.

- Che’nya (22) – A bit of a freelancer, Trey isn’t even entirely sure what Che’nya does for work, but he always pays his rent on time so he doesn’t really care. Most of the time though, Che’nya works at a coffeeshop. They don’t have a pet in the apartment, though Che’nya kinda wants one.

Fourth Floor

- (Nameless OC) – 76 year old Korean grandpa. Has a crush on the lady two floors below him. They’re adorable and will end up together eventually sldkjhlksdf

Fifth Floor

- Azul (22) – Also a musician, he plays piano and has mommy’s money sustaining him for the most part lmao He’s managed to land a few gigs here and there, but it’s not really enough to keep him going. He ends up getting work at a museum as the person at the front desk and really enjoys it. He gets a couple perks that really make the job worth it (free lunch + 2 museum passes a month so he can go in for free with a friend. If he had any friends) He has a rather impressive tropical fish aquarium.

I don’t have anyone I Want on the 6th floor

Seventh Floor

- Silver (23) – Was raised in the foster care system, but never adopted. He vaguely remembers being taken off the streets and somewhere warm by some black and pink long-haired Guy but that’s about it. He’s always been pretty resourceful, and runs his own, small pajama company, has been since he was 18. He mostly gets to work from home now which is really nice. He owns 2 bearded dragons. He only has a roommate because he didn’t see the point in having a wasted space of a bedroom. It’s kinda funny because it’s almost like there’s an invisible line in the apartment where you can tell which roommate decorated which side of the space sldjfhksdjf

- Sebek (18) – Silver’s roommate. It’s his first time living away from home and he doesn’t really know how to cope. He insists he knows what he’s doing, but Silver can tell he has a lot of life skills left to develop and tries to teach him in subtle ways. While this will be mentioned again later, Sebek is emo in this au LMAO. Sebek also insists that he doesn’t care about the bearded dragons, but he learns how to handle them and ends up loving them and helping Silver take care of them without being asked. Sebek’s dad helps him pay for half of his rent, but he’s responsible for his own groceries which…is where he finds it more difficult to be honest. Sebek was initially going to go into school to become a dental assistant, but he finds it. So boring. And kinda gross. So he ends up going to become a veterinarian. Is his ‘bedside manner’ the best with animals? No. But he’ll learn. Sebek currently works part-time as a parking attendant.

Eighth Floor

- Idia (23) + Ortho (9) (this is a lil. Depressy-espressy okay?) – A little over a year ago, Ortho was in a car crash with his parents. It ended up orphaning the Shrouds and left Ortho crippled from the waist down. Idia feels like he should carry some of the blame because he didn’t get there fast enough, he wasn’t there to protect his brother, etc. etc. but Ortho doesn’t blame him for anything. Idia did inherit the family home, but it felt too big and empty without his parents, and Ortho said he wanted a new space to try and reset. So they’re living off their parents will + business money still, Idia doesn’t really have to do much to keep it running so he can focus largely on Ortho. Ortho’s mobility is very limited early on, using only a wheel chair, but as he attends physiotherapy, he learns to use forearm crutches and he’s very optimistic about being able to walk again. Ortho attends online school, after having challenged a few grades, he’s working on grade 7 level homework/classes. Idia only takes in his cat, Meat Spud, about a month before Cater shows up. It’s a feral, horrifically mannered little gremlin but he Loves It and is the first thing in a long time that kinda shocked him out of his depression for a little bit. Ortho named it. He also refuses to touch it lsdjhlkjsdf but he finds it funny. Ortho deeeesperately wants a White’s Tree Frog because he’s done his research and knows he could handle it. He wants to name it. Cornelius. Also, the kid just generally. Loves frogs. Please let him info dump to you. Please. He knows So Much.

I got nobody in my mind until floor 13

- Lilia(???) – He’s the ‘ghost’ of the apartment. Not really. He is a squatter. Nobody knows how he got in. Nobody cares enough to shoo him out or complain about it because most people don’t even know he’s there. He’s got ‘pet’ rats. They’re city rats he’s befriended with food. It’s not that he doesn’t have money. Don’t ask me to explain him I don’t fully know how it works yet sldkjfhlskdjf

Jumping up to the 15th floor

- Vil (24) – A model, and actor and a successful fashion designer, Vil loved the concept of the apartment which was really the only reason he chose to move in rather than own his own place. He is trained as a falconer, and does have a ‘pet’ falcon. ‘Pet’ as in it is not captive bred, but it was a rescue. For the most part, it flies freely, and only comes back to the apartment for the sake of companionship or for a safe place to sleep. Vil mostly keeps tabs on it’s health. (I need to research this more but like it’s less of a pet and more just a wild animal Vil has favour with and he recognizes that.) He also has two Great Danes from the same litter named Iris and Poppy

- Vizzie (21) – She is a vtuber and Vil’s roommate (will go over this more in Relationships). In person, she is *largely* non-verbal. She’s more of a listener/observer. She has a ‘pet’ crow. Shortly after being friends with Vil she found an injured fledgling and followed instructions over the phone on how to care for it to transport it to a National Wildlife Rehabilitation Center, then decides she would like to actually like to become licensed as a wildlife rehab. Officer. When that crow was cleared to return to the wild, it ended up following her around anyways, so once she finished her certification she knew legally she *could* handle the crow if need be. She ended up getting permission to set up an ‘enrichment station’ on the roof, so ‘her’ crow can has a safe, man-made stimulation board basically and can bring any of it’s friends along, but it’s also not uncommon to see it sitting on her shoulder. It is trained well enough that she brings it into the apartment now and then, but most of it’s time is spent outside. It also loves delivering messages for her. It’s name is Ragnar.

- Neige (22) – You’ll never guess. Yeah. He’s a successful model, actor and fashion designer. He’s got permission from the owners to keep pigeons on the roof. You can imagine the commotion that happens when they see Vil’s falcon, even if Vil does stay on the opposite side of the roof when he interacts with it. He likes the apartment because it’s central so all the volunteer and charity opportunities are within walking distance. He ends up also bringing home a box of sopping wet kittens at one point, but gives all but one away because of his roommate.

- Leona (25) – Neige’s roommate. I think both his parents recently passed away, so the family business was passed onto his brother. Falena is concerned about Leona’s mental and physical health, so offered to pay his rent for him. Leona wasn’t going to say no. Currently doesn’t have a job. Doesn’t really plan to get a job. He will eventually become a lawyer (?). He ends up adopting the runt of the litter of kittens Neige brought home and named her Mgambo. She’s got a tortoise-shell coat.

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

Others

- Kalim (22)– his parents own the apartment. He wanted to live there, but they ended up buying him his own place. It doesn’t matter, he’s in the lobby every day, (no job), chattering away to Jamil and trying to contain his six ferrets and an African Grey Parrot that he keeps mostly on his shoulder. He isn’t the most responsible pet owner, but he loves them and tries his best. Jamil often gives him pointers, and he listens to all of them (most are to make Jamil’s life easier but keeps Kalim’s pets safer anyways)

- Malleus (??)– Not quite sure where he lives in the city, but he knows Lilia lives at the apartment and goes to visit him often. He doesn’t understand why he chooses to live the way he does, but won’t comment on it. He has a pet raven but Idrk how he got it. If it’s even legal. It is a happy bird though and that’s what matters most.

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I'll elaborate on more ships later but for now

Azul + Riddle – The twins instigate this lmao, they’re right in between the two musicians and love just laying on their balcony after a long day and listening to both of them practice. Floyd ends up yelling down to Riddle that Azul – the pianist above them, said his music lacks emotion, and Jade tells Azul in passing that while *he* enjoys his music, the little redhead on the first floor said that his music sounds amateurish. This sparks a competition between the two. Keep in mind. They can’t really hear each other. They’re both just swayed by the twins words . It ends up helping both of them, as Riddle realizes he’s always played the violin for his mothers approval, it’s always been mechanical to him, so he slowly starts to really tune in (hehe) to his emotions, why he chooses to play the violin, the sense of loss he feels with his mother, but still wanting to make her proud, and a part of his mind thinking if he can ‘beat’ Azul, if his mother knew, she would be proud, but that slowly becomes less and less important as time goes on. Azul, on the other hand, knows that he’s had less time than the many musicians to perfect his craft, but he’s mostly been forcing himself to learn impressive sounding pieces rather than really learning the basics and practicing them. Eventually there will be a night where they can hear each other, maybe like all the electricity goes out and either out of boredom or to try and lift people’s spirits they both end up playing, but it’s the first time they really hear each other play and they manage to make something beautiful. The twins then ‘ruin’ the moment after a beat of silence from both of them to ask when they’ll finally go on a date. Both immediately deny wanting anything like that. By the next week Azul mentions something about having a free pass to the museum and Riddle doesn’t think it’s a date until he Gets There and realizes it is.

Idia, Cater, Viz are a polycule, but Viz dates Ace as well

Jade and Trey are a thing

Deuce and Epel, maybe?

Vil and Leona

Who knows

Not me

The rest is still being workshopped

I'll elaborate on ships later

And character aesthetics bc Vil and Viz being the resident Goths are soooo important to me.

Anyways

Taglist:

@fluffle-writes @my-cursed-brain

Lmk if you wanna be added ^^

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det2x-fanfic-dump · 1 month

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SELF AWARE AU WHERE CHARACTERS ENTERED YOUR ROOM FILLED WITH MERCH

This is mostly a friendly rant or share of my random thoughts but I've been seeing self aware AU's and maybe webtoons/ stories, reverse isekais where character A from a fictional world wakes up in your world, spawns in your room, meets you and fell in love with you.

But hope you enjoy!

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Let's say, character A woke up in your room, in your bed and this character...let's say a character in which their world that deals with magic...(for example twisted wonderland)

Let's say Ace Trappola wakes up in your room alone, you're not in your room yet. He found himself lying on you bed that is unfamiliar to his.

Warning: The character might be creep out...

Since you are a fan of Twisted Wonderland, you clearly went to conventions and buy their merch. You would have plushies, dakimakuras, basically a shrine of TWST characters in your room.

Your room isn't that creepy where tons of TWST characters are posted on every ceiling and walls...it's just a plain room with a bunch of plushies and figurines in some corner.

SEEING YOUR PLUSHIES:

Ace sees your Ace Trappola Plushie, a plushed toy of his friend, Deuce, and other classmates and schoolmates of his lying on the bed next to him. His initial thoughts are...man...voodoo art?

Different sizes of plushies...different plushies with different clothes...too specific...Ace wondered...is the owner of the room can control him like a puppet in a string? He needs to get out.

SEEING YOUR DAKIMAKURA:

Let's say...you have numbers of dakimakuras...Ace saw himself in some pillow case giving a warm yet seducing gaze with clothes on. It's not bad...Ace considers himself a flirty guy at times so it's not bad...when he flips it around in hoping to see clues.

Boom!

He's blushing and swears where the fudge did that came from.

He saw other dakimakuras of familiar and not familiar faces. He doesn't want to see that.

SEEING YOUR FIGURINES:

He sees your collection of figurines...your collection of Twisted wonderland figurines included as well as other figurines from other animes and fandoms

He suddenly felt embarrassed but slightly creep out like..wow... is he famous or something? There's basically a colored and detailed statue of him, no matter the size.

What does he do to have these exist? He's just a regular troublemaker dude...

Pride befalls him as he snickered seeing both the regular figurines and the chibi ones.

SEEING YOUR COSPLAY:

You're a cosplayer and he's finding a way out. He is exposed to magic pathways and doors or maybe he wanted to open your storage or closet for clues but instead he find your cosplay collection.

He doesn't care of your costumes from different fandoms but he does find it exciting and weird to see a pair of the school uniforms and robes he uses at school. He wonders...from all the things that he saw now...are you stealing from his wardrobe...or anyone of his friends' wardrobe?

Ace saw your little TWST props like the magepen and relief befalls him to things that's familiar to him. He already have his own magepen but as he searches for more, you have a lot of them with different colors...

He wonders...are you a criminal commiting robbery of mage stones?

DISCOVERING FICTION ISN'T REAL

Superstitions and myths, magic and sorcery seems fictional in real life. They are not real and only based on rumors and if there is witchcraft in the real world, it's probably not the same magic that Ace is familiar with the use of wands or some catalysts.

Magic is a figment of just one's imagination and as a fictional character that became real. Ace has no magic now. He panicked for a while, he can be practical without magic but how can he go home.

MEETING YOU FOR THE FIRST TIME

You finally went home or decided to go your room now where the fictional character temporarily resides. As you open the door, you saw that fictional character and your initial thought...someone breaks into your room.

Said fictional character, Ace Trappola, upon first meeting accused you of being a bad person because of the plushies that he assumed voodoo dolls, your TWST cosplay that he assumed the items you stole. etc.

After a conversation, you finally understood each other's situation. However, you still find it weird when he introduced himself. You've read stories of isekai'd protagonists being sent to a different world. It's drawn in anime or manhwa, manhua style so you didn't realized how bizarre it is for a fictional character to have real human features.

You've seen CGI characters but they are still some 2D elements behind it.

In your thoughts, you think he's lying. You have doubts Maybe he's just a dedicated cosplayer who is so into LARPing but you can't embrace the thought of a stranger in your room.

With his permission, you pulled his hair. He's a real ginger head and he's not wearing a wig.

#twisted wonderland #ace trappola #SELF AWARE AU #fanfic idea dump #random thoughts #character sees your anime merch #character sees youre a dedicated fan

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sleepingsun501 · 7 months

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Shared Experiences

(Part 1, Part 2 tbd)

Pairing: OFC Sellé x Fives x OMC Aergad

Summary: Fives takes the chance at a threesome and being shared.

Rating: Explicit 18+ (Minors DNI)

Warnings: Threesome F/M/M, smut, bisexuality, hand-job, established open relationship between OCs, dirty talk, praise.

Word Count: 3.2k

Ao3 link

A/N: MINORS GET OUT OF HERE!! Hello everybody, it's been a while since I wrote much of anything. Been working way too much for my own good with not enough time to be creative. This has been sitting in my wips forever, and there will be a Part 2 eventually. For now, I hope you enjoy Fives being the bi king he is!!

Shared Experiences

Fives was no stranger to what went on behind closed doors in the storage closets and refreshers of 79’s. More often than not, he was the one who would run off to a vacant space with a willing partner in tow, but tonight, he had been pulled into the darkness of a hallway by a gorgeous, feisty Twi’lek woman.

“Fucking hell, Sellé,” he moaned, gripping the plush of her hips as she nipped at his neck. With her bright reddish-orange skin under the singular overhead light, she was nearly luminous in the dim hall, but her gold eyes were dark with want.

Sellé trailed her lips across Fives’ neck and jaw as she pressed a hand against his codpiece, holding his back to the wall. Even beneath the plastoid, she could tell he was getting harder as he rutted into her palm and grinned down at her.

“Take me right here, soldier,” she whispered against his sweaty skin. “I don’t want to wait anymore. Watching you all night has been torture.”

Fives shifted down to scoop her up, his hands full of her perfect ass as he pushed her little black skirt up her hips. In just a few steps, he was pressing her against the back wall, trapping her in a cage of blue and white armor.

She gasped as he pressed a thigh between her legs. The plastoid ridge put the most exquisite pressure on her sensitive folds and clit as he traced his tongue over the black ring piercing in the center of her bottom lip, begging for entrance.

Before he could draw a breath, Sellé invaded first, licking into his mouth and capturing his lower lip in her sharp teeth to pull him closer. He let out a sultry growl at the slight pain, but ground his hardening cock against her belly, wishing she had unclipped his codpiece first.

“Come on, Fives…” she begged with a needy gasp, gyrating her hips as his armor rubbed against her rapidly dampening core.

He pulled a glove off, chuckling and nibbling at her ear cone playfully as he worked her black lace panties aside. His goatee scratched against the hot skin of her neck as he prodded her entrance, and the drag of her nails in his hair sent a shiver rocketing from the crown of his head to the base of his spine. Every little sound she made went straight to his cock, and he was eager to feel more of her wet heat on his fingers.

He explored her folds expertly as she hooked her leg around his hip, pulling him closer and proving her impatience. Fives had no problem fucking her right there if that was what she desired, but her breathy whimpers suddenly turned to a fit of giggles, causing him to pause.

“What’s so funny, baby? Did that tickle or something?” he asked, confused and pulling back to study her. He was no expert on Twi’lek anatomy, but he had never had much trouble pleasing a woman of any species before.

Sellé bit her kiss-swollen bottom lip, looking suddenly adorably shy and trying to hide her smirk as her seductive gaze flicked past him. “No, but… we seem to have caught my boyfriend’s attention.”

Fives’ eyes nearly bugged out of his skull, and his stomach felt as if it had dropped to the floor.

“Your what?!” he exclaimed, quickly setting her firmly on her feet and whirling around. Although he had never been truly picky about his partners, Fives was no homewrecker and detested the idea of cheating. “You didn’t tell me you were here with someone!”

From the lights pulsing brightly just beyond the entrance to the hallway, he could make out the shadow of a tall figure leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed.

The seconds seemed to drag by as the figure lazily pushed off the wall and drew closer with long, slow strides. He could tell it was not another clone from the way the man moved, but Fives felt the panic start to rise in his chest when he noticed a crown of small, spiked vestigial horns encircling the man’s head.

Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit. He’s a Zabrak.

Fives had two options: either he was going to have to very convincingly talk his way out of this predicament, or fight his way out. Even with his venerable skills as an ARC trooper, the last thing he wanted at the moment was a scrap with an angry man of a species known for their natural brute strength.

“Don’t stop just for me,” the man suddenly said with a low chuckle. “I like to watch her have fun.”

Fives’ wary eyes flicked between the two of them as the man stepped into the dim light. He was a bit taller than Fives, leaner with a gentle grace about him, and looked as though he had no intention of picking a fight. As if to prove it, the Zabrak smirked at them as he affectionately brushed Sellé’s high cheekbone with his knuckle.

“Oh, please,” she huffed, rolling her eyes and distractedly playing with the end of one of her lekku. “You like to do a lot more than that.”

“Wait a minute,” Fives said, holding up his hands and looking between the couple again. He needed more information. “You’re both okay with this?”

“Relax, Fives, Aergad isn’t going to hurt you,” she said reassuringly, placing a hand on his vambrace and nuzzling up to him. “I like being shared, too, you know. Would you be interested in something like that?”

Fives gave Aergad an inquisitive look, his forehead wrinkling in surprise, and the Zabrak nodded suggestively.

The prospect of sharing a female partner, with someone other than Jesse for a change, had piqued Fives’ interest intensely. Although he was not entirely sure of the dynamic that existed between Sellé and Aergad, he was not about to pass up an opportunity to have a woman screaming with pleasure if she wanted him. Taking a quick, steadying breath, he made up his mind.

“I-I… uh… I wasn’t expecting this,” Fives’ stammered, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as an involuntary grin spread across his face, “but y-yeah, I’m game.”

Nearly giddy with excitement, Sellé stretched up on her tiptoes to kiss Fives’ scruffy cheek and began pulling him back out of the hallway. Aergad wore a cocky smile as he clapped him on the shoulder good-naturedly as he passed, following on their heels.

The crammed cab ride to their apartment was thankfully short. If it had been any longer, Fives would have pushed up Sellé’s tight skirt again and had her cockwarm him because she would not quit wiggling in his lap. The warm, sugary vanilla scent of her skin was intoxicating, and he particularly enjoyed the way she would dig her nails into his neck every time he gave her ass a squeeze.

“Easy, Sel,” Aergad said, playfully admonishing her. “I doubt he wants to cum in his armor.”

“He’s right, sweetness. I’d prefer to cum in you,” Fives muttered, kissing the little black, diamond-patterned tattoo resting at the base of her throat. As she ground her hips down into his lap again and giggled her approval, he hazarded a glance back at Aergad, realizing they had not yet discussed any ground rules. “That okay with you?”

Aergad’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he gave Fives a sexy wink while he unabashedly readjusted himself in his pants, watching Sellé squirm with delight.

“If I’m okay with it, he’s okay with it, handsome. It’s safe for you to cum in me all you want. Let’s talk more about this inside, though. We’re here,” she said, scooting off Fives’ lap and out of the cab.

As he followed them into the turbolift to their upscale apartment, Fives found it a bit odd that Aergad was so willing to let his girlfriend so lewdly seduce and fondle another man right in front of him—a complete stranger, no less. However, he conceded that unless they had anything other than a healthy open relationship, he would have been grappling on the sticky floor of 79’s.

Sellé practically dragged them both down the hall and shoved them inside the apartment when they got to their floor, and promptly asked Fives to help unlace the back of her corseted top. With such an edgy beauty proudly shedding her clothing for him, it was extremely difficult for Fives to take his eyes off of her.

She let the corset fall to the floor, revealing more diamond-patterned tattoos flowing along the curves of her back, and shivered as Fives traced them with gentle caresses of his fingertips. He pulled her close as his hands wrapped around her waist with her tattoos, kissing her neck and giving her waist an affectionate squeeze.

“Get that armor off, soldier,” she sighed as his hands came up to cup her full breasts. “I’ll be right back.”

Fives released her and watched hungrily as she scurried off down a hallway. But out of the corner of his vision, he could not help but notice the way Aergad’s violet eyes were drinking him in with a look of barely-contained lust.

He could not deny just how attractive the Zabrak was as he recognized that look, and it made his half-hard cock twitch as he began placing his armor in a neat pile next to the discarded corset.

Aergad’s angular face was covered in smooth, light tan skin marked with sweeping, symmetrical linework tattoos of a darker shade, and his striking eyes were stoking that ember into a flame in Fives’ gut. The tight fit of his clothes also left little of his lean physique to the imagination, and if he said the word, Fives would have been on his knees in a second.

After finally plucking up the courage and stripping down to nothing but his briefs, Fives turned to face his admirer and asked, “Like what you see?”

Aergad gracefully pushed off the table he had been resting on and slowly circled him, trailing his fingers across Fives’ burning skin. Fives felt his cheeks darken, and he shuddered pleasantly at the taller man’s light touch.

“I think you’re absolutely gorgeous,” he mumbled, his hands settling on either side of Fives’ neck as they came face to face. “I’d love to fuck you.”

Fives blinked in surprise and swallowed nervously. “Oh, I thought you might want me to do that,” he chuckled bashfully, briefly locking eyes with him before averting his gaze again.

Shrugging, Aergad caressed Fives’ pulse points gently. “Either way works for me. Sel’s only into males, but I like to keep options very open.”

He did not quite know what Aergad had meant by that, but he had a good feeling he would soon find out—a prospect that thrilled him more than he expected. He was suddenly overcome with the need to kiss the beautiful man in front of him, but instead settled for resting his hands against Aergad’s trim waist.

The rush of nerves must have made Fives’ heartbeat quicken because Aergad quickly shifted his hands to Fives’ chest to steady him.

“Hey, now,” he said soothingly, “it’s okay if you don’t want me. You get to decide, since you’re our guest. If you only want Sellé tonight, that’s fine. I’m… I’m sorry if I’ve come on too strong.”

“No! No, you didn’t. I-it’s fine, really. I just…” Fives found himself gripping one of the man’s slender, but sturdy wrists, soaking in the warmth of his palms and searching for the right words. “I’ve been with men before, but I’ve only been a top. You’re the first who’s ever said he wanted to fuck me.”

“We can share you, too, you know,” Sellé said quietly, reentering the room. Her slender arms encircled Fives’ waist, and she pressed her lips into his shoulder blade. “There’s no pressure at all. If you want to stop now, if you need some time, it’s all right. Whatever you want, Fives, you can have it.”

“I… uh… I’m not sure,” Fives replied, reaching down and holding onto one of her arms as well. “Never been given so many choices before… with anything.”

Being sandwiched between them was starting to become overwhelming in the best way possible. He was already so hard from the knowledge of both of them wanting him, and the warmth and feel of their bodies were keeping him grounded as his curiosity burned hot for the first time in a long time.

“Aergad?” Fives finally asked, swallowing nervously. “Kiss me?”

Aergad smiled brightly for a brief second before cupping Fives’ face in his hands and bringing their lips together.

Something deep and primal sparked in Fives’ brain as Aergad’s lips slotted with his own. He breathed in sharply and leaned into the kiss, but he let Aergad control it. The Zabrak’s lips were thin, but both tender and firm at the same time as they moved against his. Though it only lasted a few seconds, Fives could feel the desire rocketing through him. He could barely hold back the urge to chase him when Aergad pulled away.

“I think I’d like it if you shared me,” Fives confessed, left breathless and dizzy from the kiss.

With a pleased smile, Sellé came around to his front and took his hands, guiding him to their bedroom.

Fives had barely noticed before, but the whole apartment was incredibly spacious and finely decorated, and the bedroom was no exception. Later he would wonder what they did to afford such a place, but he kept his eyes mostly on Sellé, loving the way her bare, luscious body jiggled slightly with every step.

However, the oversized bed draped in nothing but plush white blankets and pillows was difficult to ignore. As she sat him down on the bed and crawled behind him, Fives was certain he had never felt a softer bed in his life.

“Wh-what should I be doing?” Fives asked uncertainly.

Aergad quickly stripped off his vest, revealing his athletically lithe torso and even more sweeping tattoos. He came to kneel between Fives’ parted knees, resting reassuring hands on his thighs. “Tell you what, since you’re new at this, we’re going to take this very slowly. Have you ever used toys on yourself before?”

His voice was like rich velvet, and Fives once again felt the excitement bubble in his stomach at the sight of the bulge visible through Aergad’s pants. “Yeah. A plug… just a few times, but nothing fancy.”

“Perfect, I have a few I can use on you first to warm you up. That okay?”

Fives nodded, struggling to control the arousal coursing through him from his core to the tips of his fingers and toes.

“Go get comfortable with Sel first,” Aergad murmured, stroking Fives’ cheek. “I’ll get everything prepped.”

As he strode off into another room, Sellé pulled Fives further onto the heavenly bed. She waited for him to settle into the cloudy pillows before straddling him and grinding delicately over his still-clothed cock, smiling at his contented groan.

“Fuck, you’re kriffing hot,” Fives hissed, eagerly running his hands up her body and bucking into her gently. It was also the first time he noticed the barbell piercings in each of her nipples, and he gently thumbed one to tease her, delighting in her little moan. “I still wanna cum in you before the night’s over.”

Sellé giggled, kissing the tip of his nose and leaning into his touches on her breasts. “That can be arranged. But first, some ground rules. In this room, we use the color system, and ‘red’ and ‘no’ mean we stop immediately. I may look kinky, but I’m not into anything non-consensual. Neither is Aergad. Do you understand?”

Fives nodded seriously. “Yes, I do.” Just from her tone, he could tell he was in experienced hands in a very safe space. Nothing would happen without him wanting it to, and it helped him relax further.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, either. This is going to be new for you, and Aergad and I have done this before, so if we see you slipping, we’ll stop and check in. Understand?”

“Yes,” Fives replied again. Her gold eyes were just as fierce as they were affectionate, and he felt himself wanting to melt beneath her from the fire coursing through his veins. If it had just been the two of them, he imagined he would have already made her cum on his tongue, and that desire to do just that quickly cemented itself in his mind.

A heartbeat later, Aergad reentered holding a small container full of various toys, lube, gloves, and bio-sheaths.

“All set?” he asked, kneeling beside them and lovingly petting down the full length of Sellé’s lek to make her shudder pleasantly.

As both Sellé and Fives replied affirmatively, Sellé shifted further up onto Fives’ abdomen, covering his hands with hers as they continued playing with her breasts and piercings. She began grinding her aching clit against the curls disappearing into his waistband, searching for the delicious friction between them.

Sliding up against Fives’ side, Aergad began slowly pressing a hand up his muscular thigh and teasing the edge of his briefs, pulling them down just enough to reveal the swollen tip of Fives’ already weeping cock.

“I’ll use my hands first, then we’ll work up to toys,” Aergad whispered against Fives’ shoulder, kissing his bronzed skin as tenderly as his words. “I promise I’ll be slow.”

Fives nodded fervently in agreement and gripped Sellé more firmly above him. “Need one of you to touch me. Please… touch me,” he gasped, barely able to believe how desperately he desired them both.

Fives thrust involuntarily into Aergad’s hand as the Zabrak pulled his underwear out of the way and grasped his cock, and his moan sounded wanton to his own ears. The callouses on his palm were a bit rough, but it was nothing compared to the relief of the pressure and warmth. As he looked at the man beside him, he was once again captivated by his violet eyes.

“You have a beautiful cock, Fives,” Aergad praised, his mouth watering at the sight of it. He released him to thoroughly lick his palm and adjust his grip before stroking him even more firmly. “So thick and hard. Look at him, Sel.”

Sellé twisted around and grasped Fives’ length behind her, joining her grip with Aergad’s. “Oh, he’s gorgeous,” she praised, deliberately pressing hard against the prominent, pulsing vein running up the underside. “Can’t wait to have you inside me and stretching me out, soldier.”

“F-feels good… so good,” Fives groaned, his every nerve tingling with need at their words. “Want… I-I want…”

“It’s okay, don’t be shy,” she said softly, slowing her movements to lean forward again and take Fives’ face in her delicate hands. “Tell us what you want.”

Fives could hear his heart hammering in his ears, but he gripped her thighs and pulled her up with surprising strength. “I want you to sit on my face,” he growled, once again finding his confidence and dying to taste her.

As soon as she shifted up onto her knees and straddled his head, Fives pulled her down and began devouring her like a man starved. He felt his cock twitch hard in Aergad’s grasp as Sellé let out the sweetest gasp of pleasure, and he knew he was in for the night of his life.

TBC

Part 2

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#arc trooper fives #OC Sellé #OC Aergad #twilek #zabrak #arc trooper fives smut #nsft #fives being a bi king #star wars #the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #arc trooper fives x ofc #arc trooper fives x omc

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chickenparm · 11 months

Text

live reaction (Wriothesley/f!Reader) pt 1

this is a continuation of this fic(livestream), though it's not necessary to really read that one. please be mindful that the reader does have gendered parts in this one in comparison to the previous entry.

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AO3 Link

Next Part

Wriothesley/f!Reader 3,279 Words - NSFW (voyeurism, mutual masturbation, mild pining, dirty talk, pet names used: good girl, praise kink, consensual all the way through)

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The answer to your sentencing doesn’t come.

No guards come to find you by bursting into your cell or accosting you in the production zone. No one even looks at you sideways, like you’ve done something as heinous as spy on the Duke having some alone time. In fact, a few days afterward, you almost wonder if it really happened at all.

An extra long shift at the end of the day makes your mind even more suspicious that you simply dreamed up something like that. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve had dreams about Wriothesley and whatever he’s got going on under those layers. So it starts to seem a little more convincing as you punch out and accept your extra pay, then trudge up to your cell.

The Coupon Cafeteria calls your name, beckoning you as you walk past it. You’ve been insanely lucky with your welfare meals over the past few days, and you’re wondering when that luck is going to run out. Probably tonight, if the weird sensation of impending doom is anything to go off of.

So you bypass it altogether, deciding to just go to bed hungry. Maybe that will reset things, you think.

The timing of your arrival in the Fortress of Meropide was timed rather nicely with some renovations and additions, meaning you got your pick of a large shared bunk room, or a private storage closet with a bed and dresser in it. Of course, you took your hole in the wall and relished in the feeling of shutting the door and enjoying the pitch darkness for a moment.

The Fortress is always loud. People talking, machines running below, fans pumping air through the building, maintenance banging around in the pipes. This little closet is the closest thing you’ve ever found here to silence, and even then it only muffles the cacophony.

But that’s fine, it’s better than nothing. Crime doesn’t pay and all that. Opening your eyes and reaching in the dark for a candle and matches, you pause. There, just above your bed, a blinking light of red - and then it shifts to teal.

And then it moves, just enough to show that it has pivoted on its anchor point. It’s watching you.

Warily, you light the candle and set it down, staring up at the new installation and wondering what the fuck is going on. This is supposed to be your cell, and it’s explicitly stated in the rules that no prisoner will be watched in the privacy of their dormitory. So why is a camera staring down at you from its position on the ceiling above your bed?

And just as you start to wonder if this is penance for your intrusion on the Duke, the smooth voice of his comes from the camera, just like yours must have through the one in his office. “Good evening. You’re earlier than expected.”

“I uh… skipped dinner.”

The camera whirs a bit, the lens protruding to show that it has zoomed in toward your face. Something about the Duke staring at you from somewhere else and barring you from his expressions feels unsettling and cold - likely how he felt.

“Oh? Not to your liking?”

“Maybe too much, I’ve been getting a bit too fortunate with my luck of the draw. Didn’t think I should push it.”

The sound of his laughter coming through makes your stomach curl pleasantly. You’ve never had the opportunity to have a conversation with His Grace; there just wasn’t any reason. Honestly, you’re still in the middle of your sentence, so drawing his attention was far too risky for your liking.

Too bad you watched him jerk off.

“You think that was good fortune? No, I pulled some strings. Simple enough.” Your mouth falls open as you look up at the camera, sputtering a few times before he interrupts you. “You can go back, it’s not closed yet. I’ll wait.”

He’ll wait. Like he’s sitting on your bed rather than staring at you through the camera. It feels like a trap of some sort, and you swallow before mutely shaking your head and murmuring that you weren’t hungry anymore. The sound he makes through the speaker is undeniably pleased, and you’re starting to wish he actually was here so you could get a glimpse of his expression.

“Good choice,” he answers, and you avert your eyes to stare at the rumpled bedding and wonder what the actual fuck is happening to you right now. Another dream? It has to be, you must have laid down for a second and passed right out when you got back.

When you don’t make any sudden movements, the Duke’s voice rings through, a little lower in tone, “Sit down. I think we have some interesting things to talk about, don’t you?”

Like the way you haven’t stopped thinking about the curve of his-

You sit down, head tilted a bit so you can look up at the camera from your seated position beneath it. When you’re as comfortable as you can be - not at all - the Duke graces you with something simple. “How long were you watching?”

“Uh… a couple seconds-”

“Try again. I’ve already pulled the records and can see the access time.”

Shit. Scratching at your chest nervously, you relent, “A few minutes, I think. Gonna be honest, Your Grace, kinda lost track.”

“Yeah, I bet,” and he sounds amused. “You found the only terminal still attached to that camera, it was meant to be deactivated years ago. What luck, right?”

You nod before you realize what you’re doing, then shake your head frantically. Not luck, but a curse, because you’re damned to suffer beneath his watchful eye as he all but interrogates you. And he doesn't even need to be here.

“I’ve been thinking, you know. What sort of punishment would be acceptable for invading the privacy of the Duke of Meropide?” He trails off, as if mimicking the way he thought about it all. “An extended sentence? Punishment via extra labor? A coupon fine? I’m sure you can guess I was very mad.”

“Was” is the word you cling to, your eyes nervously darting up to the camera. Surely from this angle you must look like a sufficiently cowed child, waiting for him to just tell you to pick one of those punishments like having to choose your own switch from a tree out back. But that never comes, and he continues his little monologue to seal your fate.

“But then I dug a little deeper, looked at the access logs, and put a few things together that didn’t quite fit before. Like… who exactly it was that was so interested in what I was doing. Six and a half minutes? Hardly an accident at that point.”

No, it really wasn’t, and you’ve been coming to terms with that ever since. That you’re a pervert that snooped on some unsuspecting guy. At the subtle accusation from him, and the overt one toward yourself, your shoulders hunch a bit and your gaze averts to the floor, only for him to say, “Eyes up here, please. We’re not done.”

Lightning-quick, you snap your eyes back up, looking at the unfeeling lens as it remains trained solely on you. Once satisfied, he begins again. “I looked at your file - cute mug shot, by the way - and thought that maybe this was a misunderstanding that can be smoothed over with a little give and take. You took, so you should probably give, right?”

“Sounds fair…” You trail off, leaving out the addendum that wonders what he’s planning on having you give. Must be one of those punishments, you’re certain of it. It’s not as if you have any real belongings, and your credit coupons are essentially worthless to the guy that could technically just print more.

The Duke’s approval practically leaks from the camera as it zooms in a little more, so much that you’re sure he can see the pores on your face. “I knew you’d be agreeable. Now, it’s a pretty even trade, I don’t intend to have either of us remain in debt toward the other. So go ahead and lay down on the bed.”

Limbs shaking a bit, you mindlessly do as he says, settling on your back and making sure you’re comfortable as you look up at the camera. When you do this all without a single complaint, he hums through the receiver, “Good. You follow directions well, that’ll make this easier for both of us. You won’t have to worry about a thing at all, just do what I ask, alright?”

He’s already asking a lot; blind trust isn’t easy to offer up. But despite your lack of interaction, you know enough about the Duke to convince yourself he’s not going to be malicious about whatever comes next. Still, you’re starting to grow uneasy, and you can’t help but try to assuage it yourself. “What if I… don’t want to? Is there some kind of trouble?”

“Trouble? No, none at all.” Your shoulders relax just as he further soothes you with, “I’m well aware it really was just an accident, and you just liked what you saw. Not gonna fault you for tripping and dropping your mind in the gutter. But… you’ll have fun with this. Promise.”

And his voice curls around those words with such a soft tone that it gives you pause, leaves you blinking widely up at the camera in quiet surprise. Gone is the teasing accusation, and in its place is a conscious effort to calm you instead of make you more uneasy. God, does it do something in your lower stomach that makes you just a little ashamed.

Wriothesley gives you a beat or two longer to voice that dissent, to tell him to get the camera out of your domicile. But it doesn’t come, and with a little grin in his voice that’s murmured through the camera, he says, “That’s my girl.”

The camera zooms out enough that you know it picked up the way your thighs pressed together. In the span of only a few moments, it becomes crystal clear what he wants, what he expects, and you wait patiently for him to give you that very first direction to cement the deal.

It’s not what you expect. A simple question of “Did you like it?”

Of course you do, but after your nod he stays silent, and it’s obvious he’s fishing for more than just yes or no answers from you. There’s a monologue in your lungs about everything you’ve been feeling about him since the first time you saw him during your initial check-in at the Fortress. Stubbornly, you keep that down, because he didn’t ask for that.

But the rest? That’s free game. Taking a sharp inhale of chilled air, you give him what he came for. “Yeah, you’re… real pretty when you touch yourself.”

“Pretty?” He sounds incredulous, voice changed slightly in a way that implies he’s moved closer to the receiver. “I don’t think anyone’s used that word to describe me before.”

“Open your ears then, boss, you’ll hear a hell of a lot more than that,” you murmur, biting your tongue in self-punishment for revealing just a little too much. But you continue, diverting his attention elsewhere, “you’ve got a nice cock, too.”

“Keep complimenting me, this might end up a little more one-sided than we agreed on,” he warns, and you almost want to keep going, to damn yourself in favor of really getting under his skin.

It’s smarter to keep that all to yourself, and instead you admit, “I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

“Mhm, I bet. Saw you almost smash your hand in the press down in the production zone.” It’s said to fluster you, and it works because you realize he’s been watching. That thought has you swallowing hard around the tightness in your throat, your knees pushing together again in a way that you know he’s explicitly aware of.

“Just thinking about it has you worked up, huh? Can touch yourself if you want, I don’t mind.”

And his angle is made clear, the intent behind all of this is uncovered, and you almost want to laugh. As if he needed this whole contrived situation to watch you touch yourself to the thought of him - he could’ve just asked.

But this is fun, interesting, thrill-inducing in a way that has your fingers shaking as you fiddle with the belt of your pants, your hand slipping inside to be greeted with entirely-expected wetness. Your fingers dip into your cunt, just a cursory pass that’s enough for a visceral slick sound to pass to the camera above.

A breath comes from the speakers, followed by a “shit”. Rustling comes from his end, the telltale buzz of a zipper being pulled down, before he nearly growls through the mic, “do you know what I did when you stopped watching?”

Broke the camera, threw a few books, accepted his own rage and likely embarrassment? Instead of spouting half-hearted ideas, you shake your head, voice culled with how your fingers stroke idly against yourself, imagining they’re his. Left with space to elaborate, he continues, “I kept going. Sat there embarrassed and angry as I stroked my cock, thinking about someone getting off on it.”

And it’s your turn to murmur an expletive, your eyes falling closed as you press a little harder with your fingertips, circling clumsily as you imagine his face tinged with red as he hunched over his own cock, fucking his fist to completion.

“Then I pulled your file, saw a cute little thing like you… couldn’t just let that one lie,” His voice is lower, strained as if he’s just as deep in the throes of pleasure as you. How would that voice sound against your neck, twisted in pleasured moans as that pretty cock fucked you open? Your fingers don’t do nearly enough justice, but you curl one inside awkwardly before huffing a bit and beginning to yank your pants off to get better access.

All of this to the quiet appreciative words through the camera, his eyes still trained on you as you bare your lower half, bending your knees and getting comfortable to give him a show just as good as the one he’d given you inadvertently. As if taunting him, you spread your legs a little more, dip your one hand down to use your fingers to spread yourself open.

“Oh, you’re cruel.” The camera shifts, zooming in. “Jeeze, you’re soaked. I really did a number on you, huh?”

“You have no idea,” you answer, looking up at the camera despite being well aware your face is not in frame. There's only one thing he’s looking at, now. Uninterested in torturing him further, you begin touching yourself again, smearing your own wetness along your fingers before slipping the middle one inside.

“Just one?” Wriothesley practically breathes it into the microphone on his end, filling your ears with his question that borders on desperation.

With a little grin, you ask, “What, think I can handle more?”

“Gonna have to, if you plan on handling me.” It’s not even cocky. He’s right, you’ve seen it. “Do another? For me?”

Your ring finger slips in without any hesitation, no discomfort from the sudden stretch thanks to your own arousal. He’s not even here, not even truly looking at you, and you’re this worked up? Then his words strike you, his implication of giving you more than just some long distance masturbation session through a camera feed.

The thought of his cock being wrapped up by you rather than his fist already has you dangerously close to finishing this a little too fast. The first real moan leaves you, thin and reedy, and a sound is picked up on his end that’s a dead ringer for what you’ve heard before. The steady, slick sound of his hand on his cock, stroking himself to the sight of you getting off on the memory of him.

“Wish I could see you,” you plead, your hips shifting as you grind your palm against your clit in time with the motions of your fingers.

Wriothesley’s voice settles over you with an implicit promise of, “next time, you will. I swear, I’m going to ruin you- mmh!”

You’re painfully aware that you’d let him, that he could split you open and you’d absolutely say thank you the whole way in. Hell, you want to sing his praises now, tell him about how he’s been the sole subject of your lust for the duration of your stay. And beyond that, even when you leave, there’s no way you’re going to forget about him anytime soon.

But you say none of that, you only whine his title breathlessly and tack on a little plea. For multiple things that go unsaid. He could come down here and get you off himself, fuck you stupid, really subject you to the kind of punishment you’d be happy to receive. To simply just let you cum, even if he wasn’t here to stop you.

You kind of like that he isn’t, that all you have is his watchful gaze and the knowledge that he’s pleasuring himself to the mere sight of you. Wriothesley doesn’t stop you when it’s clear what you’re asking for, only picks up his own pace and murmurs, “Do it, c’mon. Let me see. I want to know what your face looked like when you were thinking about what you saw.”

The camera zooms out, you’re fully in frame once more, and your face twists in exquisite pleasure at the knowledge he’s looking at you. That the Duke is desperate to cum and it’s all because of the little show you’ve put on as penance for your crime. Your hips lift, tense and desperate, teetering on the edge but not quite there.

Wriothesley helps you along inadvertently, a low moan coming through from his end that makes your hair stand on end, nearly vibrates your bones and makes your pulse hammer hard and quick as a rabbit, felt down to your fingers that curl against your insides that make you snap.

In the rushing of your blood in your ears, the world is drowned out beyond the quiet curse of him through the mic before you’re treated to the trembling sound of his orgasm, a few quick groans that trail off into a disbelieving laugh. Like he can’t believe he’d just done this, here, with you. Dazed, you can’t really blame him. It’s hard for you to believe that this still isn’t a dream, either.

The only sound that fills the small room is your quiet panting, Wriothesley’s soft breathing as he comes down just as slowly as you are. Even the rest of the Fortress seems silent in comparison. Eyes closed, you lounge and think a little too hard about it all. You’re spent enough that it doesn’t feel that awkward but you know it sort of is. What sort of thing do you say after something like this?

Blissfully, you relax further as Wriothesley breaks it first with, “You asleep?”

And you think about not answering, you really do. About avoiding an undoubtedly weird conversation but feigning little snores, but running away and being a coward was what resulted in all this anyway, so you crack an eye open and mumble a quiet “no”.

“Make sure you eat in the morning. Don’t skip it,” his voice is tired as he warns you, “and I’ll get the camera out while you’re working.”

“Mhm…”

“Still awake?” No answer, he laughs, “alright, g’night.”

#mind the a/n for content tags #wriothesley #genshin impact #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley/reader #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #f!reader #afab!reader #mdni #nsft

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