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peachyhalstead · 1 year ago

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married man | j. halstead

request:Can you do a Jay Halstead x Reader. They are both married and have a child together. The child just started pre-k or kindergarten and since the reader is heavily pregnant Jay has been dropping off and picking up their kid. And maybe like the single moms are flirting with Jay since they think he might be a single dad but they get surprised when the reader picks the kid one day after giving birth.

pairing: established (married) fem!reader x jay halstead

word count: 1.75k

warnings: none??

a/n: dad!jay dad!jay dad!jay !!!!! they have a little boy (his name is dylan) and a newborn girlie (what should her name be)

------

Grumbling as the alarm went off, you blindly reached over and whacked Jay on the chest. “Why’s it have to be so loud?”

Jay chuckled, silencing his phone’s alarm. “It’s not even that loud, babe.”

You glared at him through narrow eyes. “If I wasn’t about to pop right now I’d give you a piece of my mind.”

Letting out a hearty laugh, Jay got out of bed and folded his portion of the comforter back up, trapping the heat for you. “Only a few more weeks, babe. Then you’ll be able to move without having to pee every two seconds.”

You slowly followed Jay, yawning and rubbing the nine-month bump as you headed into the kitchen to package your son’s lunch.

He had recently started kindergarten, and loved telling you and Jay about all his escapades with his classmates as he learned different things.

“I could’ve done that, you didn’t have to get up.” Jay said, popping a capsule into the coffee machine and starting it.

Shrugging, you zipped the lunchbox closed and set it next to the matching blue backpack, one hand going to rub at the sore spot on your back. “I knew I wasn’t going to be able to fall back to sleep.”

Jay noticed, and his hands slowly made their way to the exact spot that bothered you in your first pregnancy. “Who do you thinks going to ask me out today, hm?”

Laughing softly, you clicked your tongue at Jay. “You really enjoy that, don’t you? Miss getting hit on?”

Jay shook his head. “Don’t miss it one bit. Just enjoy seeing those soccer moms think their whispers are quiet.”

A few weeks ago Jay had mentioned that some of the moms at drop-off had been talking about Jay, commenting on his lack of wedding band and no significant other ever at drop off or pick up.

“Momma, when will you go to school with me?” Dylan asked, your son finally making his appearance in his pajamas.

“Soon, little bug. Once Little Sister is here, I’ll drop you off with Daddy some days.”

Dylan frowned. “Can Sissy come now?”

You huffed, wanting nothing more than to deliver the weight that seemed to be constantly on your bladder. “I wish, but I think she needs a few more weeks.”

Jay smiled into his coffee cup, phone chiming with a text from Hailey. “Come on, Dyl. Let’s get dressed so you can show your friends your new shoes.”

Dylan beamed at the thought, and followed Jay back to his room, leaving you alone in the warm kitchen. The aroma of coffee lingered as you found a chair to rest in, hand absently tracing circles over your distended belly.

A sigh of contentment escaped you; this was your world, and despite the groggy mornings and occasional aggravations - like trying to convince Dylan to brush his teeth properly - you wouldn’t change it for anything else. That was the beauty of family - it wasn’t always perfect, but it was yours. And that made all the imperfections precious in their own odd way.

The sound of Jay's voice pulled you from your thoughts as he asked Dylan to choose between two shirts. You smiled, knowing how seriously your little boy took these morning decisions. Sipping on some water and slowly standing up, you decided to start breakfast.

The scent of eggs and bacon soon filled the room, joining the still lingering coffee aroma. Dylan would be excited; he loved his simple morning breakfasts. As you were flipping an egg, Jay returned with Dylan in tow. Their matching grins caught your eye.

“What are you two up to?” You questioned playfully, adjusting your hold on your bump.

“Nothing,” they both chimed in unison, their grins growing even wider.

“Okay,” you drew out the first syllable, grabbing a plate and moving the eggs for Dylan to eat, blowing on them as you cut them into pieces.

“Eat, then Daddy will bring you to school.” You smiled, cracking a few more eggs and grabbing a tortilla and the toppings you knew Jay liked, quickly making a breakfast wrap for him.

Wrapping it in foil, you smiled to yourself as you heard Jay helping Dylan put on his sneakers.

“Ok, we gotta go, Little Man! Go give Momma a kiss.”

Dylan skipped over to you, wrapping his little arms around your legs, promising you he’d come home with a drawing to put in the nursery.

Thanking him, you smiled at Jay as he grabbed the wrap and his badge, stopping to press a kiss to your forehead. “Take it easy today, babe.”

“I will. Go break hearts and catch perps, Jay.”

——

Jay hid his eye roll as he followed Dylan to the drop off location, ignoring the looks from the few single mothers nearby.

“I mean, who in their right mind wouldn’t grab that ass? He’s such a good dad, too.”

Jay overheard one of the mothers and shook his head, stifling a laugh. He still found it amusing and somewhat flattering to know that he was the topic of their little gossip circle. But he also knew firmly where his heart lay - at home with you and Dylan, and soon, your new little girl.

As Dylan scampered off towards his classroom, he turned to Jay with a big grin. "Daddy, do you think I can tell Mrs. Johnson about Sissy coming soon?"

Jay bent down to his level, ruffling his hair affectionately. "Of course, buddy. I'm sure she will be thrilled to hear it."

At that moment, a pair of giggling women walked by, shooting him suggestive glances over their shoulders. He merely smiled politely before turning away.

Arriving back at the car, Jay pulled out his phone and saw a text from you: Feeling better now that the house is empty. How did drop off go?

He quickly typed back: Smooth as always. He's telling all his teachers about his soon-to-be little sister.

Satisfied, he started the vehicle and headed towards the precinct. His phone chimed again with your response: That's my boy! Take care at work, Jay.

He chuckled as he imagined you grinning at your phone, feet kicked up on the coffee table even though you often chided him for doing the same thing.

——

The routine didn’t shift for the next few weeks, but the gossiping mothers were surprised when Dylan was dropped off by Will one day, Jay at the hospital where you were currently resting with the newest addition to the family.

“Uncle Will, can we see Momma and Sissy after school?” Dylan asked, tugging on his uncle’s hand.

"Of course, buddy," Will replied with a soft smile, watching as Dylan's face lit up with joy. "I bet they can't wait to see you."

Once Dylan scampered off towards his classroom, Will indulged in a moment of silence. He was used to the emergency room's relentless noise and bustle, so the unfamiliar hush of the school yard in the early morning was a welcome respite. A group of mothers were huddled together, shooting glances his way. Perhaps he was becoming part of their gossip routine now too - he silently hoped otherwise.

Meanwhile, at the hospital, Jay could barely tear his gaze away from you sleeping peacefully, the tiny bundle in his arms a testament to your strength and love. His heart swelled in his chest at the sight; you looked more beautiful than ever, your face radiating an exhausted but blissful glow as your daughter, their daughter, clung onto his finger with her small hand.

Just then, she stirred awake and let out a soft whimper which turned into a loud wail. He quickly got up and started to gently rock her, not wanting her cries to disturb your much-needed rest.

“Hey there, little princess,” he cooed softly as he bounced her gently in his arms. “Let’s not wake Mommy up now.”

After a few minutes of gentle rocking and hushed lullabies - Jay trying his best to remember the ones you sung to Dylan when he was an infant, the baby quieted down, blue eyes peering up at her father.

“Hi, munchkin. You already have half of Chicago’s first responders wrapped around your finger.” He whispered, soft smile at his lips as he thought back to the replies from his team when he sent the photo of the baby in the group chat.

"The other half is itching to meet you. Just wait until Uncle Will gets a hold of you. You're going to be spoiled rotten." He laughed softly, mindlessly tracing a finger over his daughter's tiny forehead.

His phone buzzed where he had left it on the bedside table. It was a message from Will letting him know that Dylan had been dropped off at school and asking if they could come by after school to see the baby.

Jay's heart swelled, even more, knowing his son was equally excited about his little sister's arrival. Jay quickly typed a response, assuring Will they would be more than happy to have visitors later in the day.

——

The day passed in a flurry of nurses checking vitals and bringing meals, phone calls from family and friends, and quiet moments spent marveling over their newest addition. Dylan was bursting with energy when Will brought him by after school, his wide eyes taking in everything with an infectious excitement that had everyone in the room smiling.

"Momma, Sissy is really small!" Dylan whispered in awe as he approached the bed, carefully peering over the edge of the bassinet.

You chuckled at his innocent observation as Jay helped him climb up onto the bed to get a better look. "Yes, she is," you agreed with a fond smile. "You were that small, too, Little Man!”

Dylan looked at you with wide eyes, shaking his head. “Nuh-uh!”

“Mhmm!” You replied, fixing his shirt as he squirmed to get another look at his sister.

“When can you and Sissy come to school?” He asked, looking at you.

Jay laughed quietly, and you looked at your husband. “Soon, Dyl.”

——

Two weeks later, you consoled the crying baby as Jay helped Dylan put his backpack on. “Can Sissy come meet Mrs. Johnson?”

Shaking your head, you carefully strapped the little girl into her carrier, softly rubbing her cheek. “Not yet. Maybe during the spring concert, but she’s still too little.”

Jay stood up and grabbed his keys. “She can help Momma and Daddy drop you off, though. That sound good?”

Dylan’s face lit up at the thought. “Yeah! Everyone will get to see her!” He jumped excitedly before Jay guided him out the door.

Satisfied with your successful early morning, you carried the baby carrier to the car and buckled it in securely at the back seat. Moving around was still a little tough for you but you were slowly getting the hang of things. You climbed into the passenger side, glancing back at Dylan who was squirming in his seat with anticipation.

The drive to the school was filled with Dylan's non-stop chatter about what he was going to show his little sister. Jay had a soft smile on his face as he listened to his son, occasionally glancing at you in admiration and shared joy.

Once they arrived in front of the school, Dylan unbuckled himself and carefully opened your car door for you. “Be careful, Momma!” He cautioned, making Jay chuckle as he followed behind with his son’s backpack.

You smiled, letting Jay go ahead with Dylan so he wasn’t late, working to unstrap your daughter’s carrier so Dylan could see her one last time before he was in school.

“Jay, haven’t seen you the last few days. Is everything okay?” One of the mothers who had tried to hit on Jay asked, faux worry on her face.

Jay wore a smile as he turned to the woman, Dylan's hand tucked safely in his own as they made their way toward the school entrance. "Yeah, everything’s great, actually. My wife just gave birth to our second child," he responded casually, nodding his head towards the car where you were carefully lifting the baby carrier.

The woman blinked in surprise before offering a tight-lipped smile, "Oh, I didn’t know... congratulations."

"Thanks," Jay replied with a nod before turning his attention back to Dylan whose bundle of excitement was barely contained. As Jay opened the door for him to enter he looked into the bright eyes of his son and smiled reassuringly, "You ready?"

Dylan nodded eagerly, already tugging on his father's hand to drag him inside. Jay followed docilely, striding up the hallway towards Dylan's classroom.

Meanwhile, you were still out by the car, struggling slightly with the baby carrier that seemed to weigh even more than your now two-week-old daughter. A few mothers noticed and stepped forward to help you, their faces lighting up at the sight of the infant bundled up against the cold.

"Oh she's absolutely adorable!" One woman cooed, and you recognized her from when Jay was telling you how one of them started to wear low-cut tops after he started doing drop off duty.

You walked with them to the doors, smile brightening when you saw Jay and Dylan at the door, the young boy wanting to say goodbye to his sister.

“Bye, Sissy! Bye, Momma!” Dylan smiled, giving his sister a kiss and hugging your legs, unaware that his farewells caused the mothers who had walked with you to gasp lightly.

Jay’s smile widened at Dylan's display of affection, ruffling his son's hair gently, "Alright, champ. We’ll pick you up later. Have a great day at school."

Dylan nodded eagerly before disappearing into the bustling school building with his teacher. The remaining mothers turned to you, their surprised expressions replaced by warm, slender smiles as they admired your little girl.

Back in the car, you laughed as Jay started the ignition. “Think I felt the daggers from some of the moms when they found out you’re married.”

Jay snorted, turning back to the road to your house. “Well, that or when they found out we have great sex. Either way, watch your back, babe.”

You gawked at Jay’s remark, hitting him in the chest. “Jay! Your daughter is listening!”

“Oh, she’ll hear worse when Ruz babysits her." ------ a/n: send requests if you wanna!!

#jay halstead x fem!reader #jay halstead x you #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead #chicago pd fanfic #chicago pd #one chicago

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tangyneon · 6 days ago

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inky, tawny, teddy!

Your tastes might be ridiculous... but Gojo's weakness for you?

Now, that's a whole new level of ridiculous.

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader tags: teen!gojo; teen!reader; tooth-rotting fluff; humor; gojo and you have been engaged since childhood because of an agreement between his clan and yours; neither of you really knows what that means now; pining looks so cute on gojo; denial too looks good on him; vaguely unestablished relationship; vaguely long-distance relationship; word count—895. warnings: none. this is a sequel of sorts to 'lychee pops!', but please feel free to treat it as a stand-alone if you wanna!! notes: many people asked me to write more for these two, so here it is, my loves!! hope you'll enjoy reading this, babes!! ❤️❤️

It's 10:30 at night, and Gojo Satoru finds himself standing in front of a vending machine.

But not for a snack, nor for canned coffee, and certainly not for that disgusting hot corn soup Shoko loves to sip, as if it isn't some crime against humanity.

No—this is the kind of machine that feels like it should be in a forgotten corner of a forgotten festival. Or maybe in one of the small shops that sell foolish knickknacks—things people don't really need, but they buy anyway.

Lit up by a single neon light—flickering, at that—the machine hums. Gojo feels a chilly breeze rush through the alley, sending a shiver up his spine and lifting his hair a bit. The night smells of rain on asphalt, of exhaust and smoke, of city life and its restless hubbub.

All the while, the boy—who should technically be asleep in his dorm right now; who could be anywhere else in this large, loud city—stays standing before the vending machine. Staring at the capsules filled with cheap things, idiotic things, hands shoved deep into his hoodie pockets and his mouth tugged down into a frown that is not quite a frown anymore.

This is stupid, he tells himself. Very, very stupid.

And yet, he stays right there.

He lets his eyes scan the chart of little plastic prizes—frogs, hearts, cats, stars—until something catches his eye.

A tiny teddy bear keychain.

White as snow, with round ears, stubby arms, and two black bead eyes that somehow seem to be staring right back at him.

Oh, wow, he thinks dryly.

Because the second he sees it, he thinks of you. His mind goes to the way you'd tilt your head, smiling softly because it'd remind you of the teddy bear you lost when you were a tiny kid. Even without you here, Gojo can already picture your fingers wiggling in that ridiculous little wave, a silent "I want it".

You would lose it over this thing.

The thought makes his lips twitch. Only a bit. Before he heaves a sigh as though he is being forced into something painful—even though no one is watching, and nobody is making him do it.

Nearly reluctantly, he digs a handful of coins from his pocket, then feeds them into the machine one by one—carefully listening to each sharp clink of metal—as if he is paying some kind of penance, eager for it to be over.

Soon enough, the coins are gone. And the capsule drops with a light, hollow, echoing thunk. He sighs again, then squats, pops it open and lifts the keychain by its thin gold chain.

It looks even stupider up close—this tiny white bear, dangling in the air, catching the glow of the neon light above.

Gojo stares at it for a moment.

Then—only because he feels the need to, for some reason—he mutters under his breath, "You better love this, dummy."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Gojo wraps it up the next morning.

He's not any good at this kind of thing, though. But then again, it isn't like you are either, so he does not really care—not that the boy would have cared, were you good.

He simply scrounges up a bleak envelope, shoves the keychain inside with a bit of tissue he finds at the bottom of Geto's bag, then studies it. He grimaces, then adds a folded scrap of paper.

don't get weird about it. just saw it and thought of you. it's stupid—just like you.

Sealing it, he scrawls your name and the address of your clan's estate on the front in messy handwriting, then goes to drop it off in a nearby red post box before he can change his mind.

And then—well, Gojo heads to his classes and forgets about it.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Gojo does not actually forget about it.

He thinks about it, all day and all evening—until the moment he is sitting down with his dinner, and his phone buzzes in his pocket.

Half-eager, and half-ready to feign distraction and indifference, the boy flips it open—then pauses.

Your face fills his phone's screen—you and your bright grin, your shining eyes, and the tiny bear you're holding up beside you. As if it has made your entire day. As if it is already the most precious thing you own.

Gojo just stares at the photo.

For one beat. For two beats. Maybe for a whole minute—he is not sure, nor particularly bothered, truth be told.

His thumb hovers over the keys. He wonders if he should send back some smart remark. Or a joke.

Eventually, Gojo moves his thumb away, finding himself smiling—not his usual wide, mischievous ones, but something smaller. Maybe even realer. The kind of smile that sneaks up on the boy, softening his whole face without him meaning it to.

"Ridiculous," he mutters—but the word comes out unbearably fond, more a soft little laugh than a complaint.

He stares at the bear's dumb face for a second more. Then, shaking his head, he slides his phone back into his pocket, and leans back in his seat, eyes drifting to the inky sky outside the window.

Wondering already—already—what he can send you next.

Because if this is what it takes to see you smile so brightly from so many kilometres away, Gojo reckons he'll buy out the whole stupid vending machine next time.

#jjk x you #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jjk fanfic #gojo fanfic #jjk #gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #[tangyneon's works]

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jkwrites-m · 26 days ago

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Skee-Ball

Part 2 - Mall Rats

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Genre: smut

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Surrounded by flashing lights and silence, Jungkook and Y/N shared an impulsive, intimate moment that deepened their already growing bond.

Warnings: MDNI, Explicit, 18+, kissing, cursing, fingering, public sex, unprotected sex, strip tease (?), missionary, oral (m. receiving)

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Jungkook’s suggestion to explore the nearly empty mall further felt like a dare. One laced with mischief, and I couldn’t resist.

The way he said it, eyes glinting with something wild and playful, made it impossible to say no. He reached out his hand like he was inviting me into a secret, and I took it without hesitation.

The deeper we wandered into the quiet heart of the mall, the more it felt like we were slipping into another world- one where time slowed, and only our footsteps echoed against the cold, tiled floors.

Most of the mall was asleep, the kind of sleep where lights still buzz but shops forget to breathe. Stores sat in silence, metal gates half-drawn, like they weren’t sure if they were open or closed. The hum of old air conditioning rattled in the ceiling, the only real sign the place was still alive.

The air around us buzzed, not with noise, but with something intangible. Anticipation. The thrill of being somewhere we maybe weren’t supposed to be. I could feel it in my chest. In my fingertips. In the way Jungkook kept glancing over at me, like he was waiting for me to crack a smile or challenge him to something.

Then we saw it.

The arcade loomed ahead, tucked at the edge of the corridor like a forgotten treasure chest. Its neon sign still blinked, barely, the letters flickering with fading energy- half blue, half red, all nostalgia. Inside, some machines were lit, others sat in silence. A claw machine hummed softly near the entrance, and the glow from the screen bathed the floor in shifting colors.

I stopped for a second, breath catching. “It’s still open?”

“Barely,” Jungkook said, tugging gently on my hand. “Let’s go wake it up.”

His hand brushed mine again as we stepped inside, his fingers lacing between mine for a heartbeat. That one small touch sent a jolt of electricity through my veins- sharp and sudden, like the moment before a first kiss or a drop on a roller coaster. My heart tripped over itself.

He walked ahead and let go, only to spin around and face me, walking backward with that confident smile of his.

“Ready for some fun?” he asked, his voice low and teasing. His eyebrow piercing glinted in the dim light, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“What did you have in mind?” I replied, playing along.

“A little game,” he said, his lips curling into that cheeky grin I loved. “Winner gets… whatever they want.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Whatever they want, huh?”

“Whatever they want,” he repeated, his gaze locking onto mine.

The arcade was a time capsule, filled with old machines and faded posters. Jungkook led me to a skeeball machine, dusty but still functional.

“First challenge,” he announced. “Whoever gets the highest score in one round gets to pick a dare.”

I laughed, feeling a rush of excitement. “You’re on.”

We took turns playing, our competitive streaks coming out in full force. I threw the balls with precision, but Jungkook managed to edge me out by a slim margin. “Looks like I win,” he said, smirking.

“Damn, you’re good,” I admitted, playfully. “Alright, what’s the dare?”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I want you to kiss me right here, in the middle of the arcade.”

“That’s lame. ”

Without another word, he pulled me close, his lips crashing against mine. The kiss was hungry, desperate, like we’d been starving for each other. His hands slid down my waist, pulling me tighter against him, and I could feel the heat of his body through his shirt. The thrill of being caught, of doing something so reckless, only fueled the fire between us.

When we finally pulled apart, both of us were breathless. “Give me a better dare,” I said, my voice shaky.

Jungkook’s grin was wicked. “Alright. Let’s see how brave you really are. I dare you to strip down to your bra and panties and dance on this skeeball lane.”

My eyes widened, but the idea sent a shiver down my spine. “What if someone comes in?”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?” he said, his voice laced with challenge.

I hesitated for a moment, then nodded. The idea of being so exposed, so vulnerable, was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. I quickly shed my clothes, leaving only my lacy black bra and panties. The cool air kissed my skin as I climbed onto the lane, the dusty surface slick beneath my bare feet.

Jungkook watched me with a mix of pride and desire, his gaze devouring every inch of me. “Dance for me,” he commanded, his voice rough.

I moved slowly at first, swaying my hips to an imaginary beat. His eyes never left me, and I could see the hunger building in them. I ran my hands over my body, teasing him, teasing myself. The arcade felt like our private stage, and I was putting on a show just for him.

“Come here,” he growled, stepping closer.

I jumped down from the machine, my heart pounding. He grabbed me by the waist, his lips pressing fiercely against mine. His hands roamed freely, cupping my breasts, squeezing my ass. I moaned into his mouth, my hands tangling in his jet-black hair.

“I want you,” he whispered against my ear, his breath hot. “Right here, right now.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I pushed him back against the pinball machine behind him, my hands working to unbuckle his belt. He groaned as I pulled down his pants, his thick, hard cock springing free. I dropped to my knees, my lips wrapping around him, teasing the tip before taking him deep into my mouth.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his hands gripping my hair. “You’re so good.”

I hummed in response, my tongue swirling around him, savoring the taste of him. The sound of his moans, the sight of his muscular body trembling with pleasure, sent a surge of power through me. I wanted to make him lose control, to push him to the edge.

“Stand up,” he commanded, his voice hoarse.

I obeyed, my legs shaky as I rose. He lifted me onto the pinball machine, positioning me so I was lying back, my legs spread wide. The glass was cold against my skin, but the heat between us was undeniable.

Jungkook didn’t waste any time. He thrust into me, filling me completely, his lips finding mine in a desperate kiss. The machine creaked beneath us as he moved, his rhythm relentless. I wrapped my legs around his waist, meeting his thrusts with my own, my nails digging into his arms.

“Harder,” I gasped, my voice pleading.

He obliged, his hips snapping against mine, the sound of our bodies colliding filling the arcade. The thrill of being so exposed, of anyone walking in and seeing us like this, only heightened the pleasure. I was teetering on the edge, my orgasm building like a storm.

“Cum for me, baby,” he growled, his voice raw. “Let me feel you fall apart.”

His words pushed me over the edge. My body shook as my orgasm ripped through me, my cries echoing off the walls. Jungkook followed soon after, his thrusts slowing as he spilled himself inside me, his lips pressing against my neck.

For a moment, we sat there, breathless and tangled, the only sound was our heavy breathing. Jungkook’s arms held me close, his lips brushing my forehead.

“That was… incredible,” I murmured, my voice soft.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to try that,” he confessed, his voice filled with wonder.

I smiled, feeling a deep connection forming between us.

What started as a game had turned into something much more- a shared secret, a bond forged in the heat of the moment.

There was something unspoken in the way he looked at me now, like he saw a part of me no one else had. The laughter, the sparks, the silence between our words, it all settled into something real. Something lasting.

As we dressed and left the arcade, hand in hand, I couldn’t help but feel like this was just the beginning. The mall lights still flickered, and the world outside carried on, unaware that something inside me had shifted.

The empty mall had become our playground, and I knew there were more adventures, and more dares, waiting for us.

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♡ requests are welcome ♡ taglist ♡

These characters are fictional and do not represent any real-life individuals. Their likeness is used solely for visual inspiration and does not reflect the actual person or their story.

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Posted: 05/26/2025

#jkwrites m #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook ff #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts ff #bts #bts ffs #mall rats m

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eriace · 16 days ago

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love, take two ; umemiya hajime

oneshot & fluff ↪ in which umemiya runs into his ex-girlfriend at a neighborhood festival after two years apart. what starts as awkward small talk turns into cotton candy, late-night teasing, and maybe—just maybe—a second chance at love. ↷ umemiya hajime ; windbreaker

↳ an order of peppermint mocha from @lady-snavely in the comeback cafe event !

UMEMIYA HAJIME DID not expect to see her at the festival.

He’d just crushed a yakisoba plate in record time, planning to chill with the Bofurin crew, when he caught a glimpse of that familiar face—same eyes, same little annoyed pout, same way she always squinted at the fireworks like they were personally trying to blind her.

Y/n.

She looked the same and completely different at the same time. Her hair was longer. She wore a summer yukata, sky blue with little paper fan patterns, and she was holding a bag of goldfish with her pinky finger like it might explode.

Umemiya did the reasonable thing. He panicked and dove behind a cotton candy stand.

“Smooth,” Suo deadpanned, arms crossed.

“I just need a second!” Umemiya hissed, peeking through the sea of children and sugar. “She looks... happy. What if she doesn’t want to see me?”

“Then she’ll tell you. Like a normal person,” Suo said flatly. “You dated her, not robbed her.”

“She dumped me because I forgot our anniversary to fix my damn bike, Suo. My bike.”

“...Yeah, that was dumb.”

Umemiya groaned, running a hand through his hair. But fate didn’t care about his awkwardness because the second he straightened up—

“Oh. It’s you.”

There she was. Right in front of him.

He grinned instinctively. “Hey.”

“You’re hiding behind a cotton candy machine.”

“I missed you,” he blurted out.

Y/n blinked. “What?”

“Wait, no, that’s not—crap. I meant I missed cotton candy. Yeah. The candy. Not you. I mean, I did miss you, but—” he trailed off, cheeks warming. “…This is going badly.”

She stared at him for a moment, then laughed. “Still a total idiot, huh?”

“Only for you.”

She blinked again.

Umemiya paused. “…That sounded smoother in my head.”

They ended up walking the festival together.

No pressure. Just slow steps and fast food. She teased him about his terrible chopstick skills. He mock-whined when she wouldn’t share her takoyaki. She won a tiny plush shark at the ring toss and promptly declared it her new favorite guy.

“He doesn’t forget anniversaries,” she said with a smirk.

“He also doesn’t have white hair or killer calves,” Umemiya huffed, flexing dramatically. “Bet he can’t do a wheelie.”

“He’s a plushie, Hajime.”

“Details.”

Later, as they watched fireworks from the bridge—just like they used to—Umemiya glanced sideways at her.

“Y/n,” he said softly. “You ever think about… us?”

She looked up at him, surprise flickering across her face.

“I mean,” he added quickly, “I know I messed up. A lot. But I’ve changed, I swear. I even set alarms for my grandma’s dentist appointments now. Like, three of them. I think about you all the time. Your laugh. The way you steal my fries. Even your weird obsession with soap operas where everyone has amnesia.”

“That’s oddly specific.”

He grinned nervously. “I guess what I’m saying is… I’d be stupid not to try again. If you’d let me.”

There was a pause. A long one.

Then she reached over and took his hand.

“I missed you too, you idiot.”

His heart stuttered. “So… round two?”

“Only if you promise not to propose with a vending machine ring this time.”

“Hey! That was sentimental!”

“It was from a gacha capsule labeled ‘cursed love tokens.’”

“...Still counts.”

That night, Umemiya walked her home.

Hand in hand. Two years older. Maybe a little wiser.

And as she leaned on his arm, smiling at something dumb he said, he thought—

Yeah. Round two was already perfect.

#windbreaker #windbreaker x reader #wind breaker #wind breaker x y/n #wind breaker x reader #umemiya hajime #wbk umemiya #umemiya x reader #windbreaker umemiya #umemiya fluff

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chocochipsushi · 1 year ago

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𝐌𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐊𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭?

SFW

🌸Word count: 600 words

🌸AU: your soulmate wore your Hello Kitty shirt by accident and now he doesn't want to return it

🌸Pairing: Toji x reader, SatoSugu

🌸A/N: I got the idea from this fan art that I saw and I just HAD to write this scenario!!! While writing it I thought it would act so well as an epilogue for the soulmate au!Toji piece so I decided to make it a series-ish.

<< Prequel, Part 1

“Who’s that?” Toji grumbles into your hair.

The doorbell rings once more. You nudge his arm that is around you and mumble sleepily, “Toji, you go.”

The doorbell rings again. Groaning, Toji reluctantly gets up, extracting his arms from around you. You hear him pick up a shirt as he leaves the room.

You’re about to fall back to sleep when you hear a screeching laughter and a bang. You’re jolted awake, so suddenly that you force yourself to get up out of bed. You stumble upon the closest clothing apparel and wear it, letting it engulf you. You leave your room haphazardly, wearing a shirt that is definitely not yours.

You rub the sleep out of your eyes and notice belatedly that you have guests streaming into your apartment, namely Satoru and Suguru. They’re doubling over in laughter, almost falling to their knees as they take their shoes off.

You’re listless as you watch them guffawing and crying, wondering what on earth they’re on about, until Toji shuts the door and turns around scratching the back of his head. The tight shirt he is wearing rides up and shows off his abs, catching you off guard. You blink again and scan your eyes slowly over his body, noticing how the sleeves of his top cling to his biceps. Not to forget the stretched out Hello Kitty face on the fabric.

Once again, it takes you a while to realise that he is wearing your pajama top. It doesn’t help that the two of you had worn a matching set of pink Hello Kitty PJ bottoms you’d bought so Toji literally has on a full complete outfit.

You clap your hand over your mouth to try to hide your smile. Toji narrows his eyes on you. He stares down at his pecs and starts pulling on the shirt. When he realises what the cause of Satoru’s and Suguru’s laughing fit was, he lets out the loudest, most defeated groan. You giggle behind your palm.

“I’d thought I was getting bigger,” he grumbles.

This only throws Satoru and Suguru into another bout of laughter. They’re even rolling on the ground. Toji, surprisingly, doesn't even take the shirt off as he steps over his friends and walks to the kitchen to make some coffee. You can see his midriff from how small the top is.

Going over to him, you look up at him focusing on making coffee. “Wanna switch, Toji?”

“Hmm?” he hums lazily.

He places a cup under the drip of the machine and pops the capsule in. Finally, while his coffee is being prepared, he leans his hip against the counter and turns to you. He eyes you up and down, taking in the image of his usually body-hugging t-shirt loose on you, making you look so small and soft and safe.

He turns the corners of his scarred lips down and shakes his head. “Nah. I like this shirt.”

You give him a look as you try to fight off your laughter. “My Hello Kitty shirt?”

Toji gives you another once over. Messy bed hair, sleepy eyes, pink Hello Kitty pajama pants, and his oversized black t-shirt. “Yep,” he confirms. “You can have my shirt.”

You chuckle and place your hands on his exposed stomach, sliding your palms up his abs slightly as you move slightly closer. You tip your toes and murmur cheekily, “You look so sexy, Toji. You should wear crop tops more often.”

Toji suddenly grabs a fistful of your shirt and pulls you against him, causing you to gasp in shock. Your eyes are wide in surprise as you gape at him. Then you receive a smack to your ass. He leans down so his lips are by your ear and says, “Now you know why I can’t keep my hands off you for more than a minute.”

You feel your face flushing with embarrassment and you know he can feel the heat radiating off you because he turns and gives you a kiss to your cheek, then your lips. He moans when he gives you a squeeze to your ass, always enjoying the feel of your tender flesh in his hands. As he moves away with his hand still fondling to your bum, his other one picks up his ready cup of coffee. He stares at you over the rim of his cup as he takes a sip.

“Want me to make you some tea, baby?” he asks gruffly.

You shake your head shyly. He hums and leans in to leave a chaste, coffee-scented kiss on your forehead before he stops touching you to go over to the kitchen island. He rests his cup and palms on the marble top as he peers over the other side to watch his friends lying on the ground, no longer laughing, now catching their breaths.

“Coffee?”

At Toji’s voice, the two men look up at him, only to drop their gazes to his ridiculous shirt, and they are sent into another endless loop of laughing and chortling.

“Get out,” Toji finally snaps, having had enough of their mockery.

<< Prequel, Part 1

#toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x oc #gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x oc #gojo x you #geto #geto suguru #geto x you #geto x oc #geto x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #brainrot #satosugu

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seungkw1 · 2 months ago

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heroes — chs [TEASER]

💿 heroes - david bowie 🎶

🪐 pairing: chwe hansol x gn!reader 🪐 theme: sci-fi au 🪐 teaser wc: 2.2k 🪐 teaser warnings: none, but the full fic will contain elements of horror 🪐 a/n: this fic is loosely based on the movie Alien (1979), one of my all-time favs!! and who better to star in it than our favorite Movie Guy™️ chwe hansol. i'm honestly having a blast researching and writing for this one, so i hope u guys enjoy it as much as i do :) p.s. release date is tbd, i’m gonna be v busy these next several weeks but i am hoping to post by end of may, pls bear with me <3

You’ve been Captain of the Atlas IV for five years now, so a months-long interstellar cargo haul like this one is standard work for you. But when you’re mysteriously woken prematurely from your cryogenic sleep-stasis to find yourself still in the middle of deep space, nowhere near your destination planet, it’s up to you and your Pilot to figure out what triggered the Emergency Revival System - before it’s too late.

hisssssss

Your brain begins to awaken as you re-enter consciousness. Somewhere in the back of your mind you recognize the sound of the sleep pod unlocking, signaling your long journey through the depths of space must be coming to an end - but right now the only thing you can think about is how dead you feel. Waking up after such a long, artificial sleep is always physically challenging, but nothing you’re not used to by now. You give yourself a couple minutes to lay there, still half-lucid, letting your body slowly readjust from the months-long cryogenic sleep cycle. You listen to the ambient sounds of the ship. The noise is loud, but low - mere background noise that you’ve grown accustomed to. The mechanical rumbling of the engine amidst the otherwise silent ship brings you a strange sense of comfort, a contrast to the usual chatter of the crew and beeping and blooping of machinery. You decide to take a few more moments to enjoy the peace and quiet before you have to get back to work.

Suddenly, you are flooded in the sterile brightness of the ship’s interior lighting as the capsule lid is opened - nearly blinding you even behind closed eyelids. You reluctantly open your eyes to, to see-

A face, staring down at you.

You jump a little. You blink a few times as you sit up, still processing the identity of the face’s owner. Then it registers: it’s your Pilot.

“Jesus Hansol, you fucking scared me.”

“Sorry, Captain,” he apologizes. He just stands there, upright, so still that he could be mistaken for a mannequin if you weren’t paying too much attention.

“Why are you standing over my pod?" you grumble, still adjusting to being roused so abruptly.

He looks at you, his demeanor calm as always - but based on the concerned look in his eyes, you guess he’s going to tell you that there’s a bit of a problem.

“We have a bit of a problem.”

“Yeah, I guessed that much. What-”

Before you can ask anything, he’s already spun around on his heels, making a beeline back to the cockpit. You stumble out of the pod and quickly don your coveralls before hurrying after him.

You enter the control room, its many processors and screens humming all around you. At first glance, everything seems fine - all machines are fully operational, no blinking lights, no alerts going off. Somehow, you find this more worrying than if all the alarms were blaring.

Hansol hovers over the main computer. You join him, stepping up next to him to get a good look at the screen. To an untrained eye it would be incomprehensible, but you could interpret the map in your sleep. You take one look at the coordinates and the issue is glaringly obvious.

“Shit.”

Your whisper is barely audible, but Hansol gives you a stoic nod.

“Yeah.”

You’ve captained the Atlas IV for five years now - you’ve been on so many of these routine, months-long cargo expeditions that you’ve stopped keeping count; every last detail of its operations is ingrained in your memory at this point. The ship is programmed to wake up the crew in stages upon entering a 0.5 parsec orbital radius of the destination planet (Pilot first, Captain next, and then the remaining crew), allotting plenty of time to communicate with the ground crew and prepare for landing.

However, the blinking blue light indicating the ship’s position is nowhere near the destination planet. It’s not even near any planet - you are in the middle of fucking nowhere.

The system is designed to wake the crew early if an emergency arises - a critical built-in safety measure - but there’s no emergency. Aside from the fact that you’re deep in interstellar space, there doesn’t even appear to be a minor issue at hand.

You look up at Hansol, who is patiently awaiting your response.

“Why was the Emergency Revival System triggered?” you ask hesitantly.

He stares at you for a second before responding.

“I don’t know.”

“And is anything malfunctioning? At all?”

He shakes his head.

“I’ve run all diagnostics twice - nothing. If there’s a problem somewhere, it’s undetectable.”

You grimace. Hansol lets out a sigh. You both know you only have one option here.

“Well, guess we better start combing the place. Find the problem ourselves.”

He nods resolutely. You head to the supply room together, gearing up in silence. You grab as many tools as you can carry - anything you might need to repair… whatever the issue is.

“Alright, I’ll start at the fore, you start at the aft. Take your comms - radio me if you find anything, no matter how trivial.”

You prepare to head out, but the silence filling the room stops you. You turn around to see Hansol, geared up head to toe with supplies, holding two pulse rifles. He extends one to you.

“Why-”

“Just in case.”

“We’re the only ones here, and everyone else is still in stasis. Who would I possibly need to shoot?”

“Nobody. But you never know what you might come across.”

“Hansol if there was anyone, or… anything else on this ship we would know about it,” you reply, but not confidently. You know he’s right. Weird shit happens in deep space sometimes - better safe than sorry. You take the rifle.

“Be careful, y/n.”

Normally if a subordinate addressed you informally, you would scold them. You have a good camaraderie with your crew, but you still demand respect. But you and Hansol have known each other for years - although you were never super close, you were still in the same class at the Academy. You did all your basic trainings together - and that kind of shit builds an unspoken bond. You wouldn’t necessarily consider him a friend, but truthfully you do see him as your equal. Being on a first name basis with him just comes naturally.

You give him a firm nod. “You too.”

He clips his rifle to his utility belt. “Meet you in the middle. Unless I find something first.” He shoots you a playfully-smug grin. “Which I will.”

You roll your eyes, but you grin back at him. “Hey, take your fucking time, it’s not a competition.”

“I know,” he says as he exits the room. His voice echoes from the hallway. “But I’m still gonna win.”

[two hours later]

You wipe the sweat from your brow as you shut the large panel door. You’ve checked what feels like a million controls and systems at this point, but - frustratingly - everything appears to be in order. Still no insight into what’s going on.

With an exhausted groan you sit on the ground, leaning your head back against the wall. You grab your canteen and chug some water. This type of work isn’t hard, but it’s fucking tiring. Not to mention boring as hell. At least you have an old mp3 player to keep you company, but you’re still too alone with your thoughts for your liking. As level-headed as you normally are, your mind can’t help but wander, imagining every terrible thing that could possibly happen. You try to push those thoughts aside, knowing you’re probably overthinking it. But the worries still linger.

You close your eyes, zoning out to the sound of David Bowie’s voice in your ears:

I, I can remember (I remember) Standing, by the wall (by the wall) And the guns, shot above our heads (over our heads) And we kissed, as though nothing could fall (nothing could fall) And the shame, was on the other side Oh we can beat them, for ever and ever Then we could be Heroes, just for one day

“Captain! Come in Captain!”

You jolt upright. You curse yourself, realizing you must have drifted off to sleep for a bit. It takes you a moment to process where the voice is coming from - but then you notice the red light of your comms lighting up on your wrist.

“Hansol, come in.” you reply, bringing your arm up to your face.

“Geez, I was starting to think something happened to you.”

“Sorry, was just taking a rest. What’s up?”

“I found… something.”

“What do you mean ‘something’?"

“It’s easier if you see for yourself. Meet me in Cargo Bay 7.”

“Roger, on my way.”

The large pneumatic doors to the cargo bay open with a deep whoooosh. The coldness of the hangar stings your face as you step into the freezing room. Hansol’s head pokes up from behind several rows of large crates, his breath visible in the frigid air. He waves you over to him.

“What is it?” you inquire as you approach him, but as you step around to where Hansol is facing, you see it. Along the side of the crate, where the door is meant to be sealed shut, is a large hole ripped through the multilayered titanium walls. The shredded-up metal protrudes outwards in a peculiar manner, almost as if…

You lean in to get a closer look at the busted door. Hansol’s arm instinctively shoots out in front of yours to stop you from getting too close.

“Be careful - we don't know what's in there.”

You give him a firm nod. You retrieve a crowbar from your toolkit, sticking it into the small opening. Hansol lifts his pulse rifle into position, pointing it at the crate. Slowly you heave the large door open.

The beam of your flashlight illuminates the crate’s interior. In the center of the crate sits a biocapsule - not unlike the ones you use to enter stasis during long journeys, though notably larger. The capsule’s exterior is fitted with several, heavy-duty locking devices that appear to have been inadequate, given that the glass lid is almost entirely missing, accounting for the thick shards of broken glass strewn all over the floor. Dozens of tubes and wires connect the capsule to various bizarre pieces of machinery, presumably keeping its former occupant in stasis or something of the like. But now, it is vacant. Whoever - or, whatever - was in there, is gone.

“Okay, this is fucking weird,” you say, turning to Hansol. “Live cargo isn’t even permitted on this ship. What do the logs have listed for this shipment’s contents?”

Hansol lifts his arm and activates what looks like a sleek wristwatch. The watch projects its hologrammatic display into the air in front of his face, featuring a small keyboard. He types in the crate’s serial number into the interface.

“Um,” he starts, his face remaining placid, but you can see the confusion in his eyes. “There’s no record of this container in the system.”

“Like… at all?”

He types in the number again, checking if he made a mistake. But the projected screen once again only says 0 results found.

“Nothin’.”

You furrow your brow. That should be impossible - crates go through two checkpoints to ensure they are registered correctly before they are even allowed on the ship.

“Search the lot number.”

He types AT-07 into the device. It brings up the general cargo bay information - shipments are sorted into different bays depending on the type of contents they carry.

“‘General Plumbing Equipment’,” he reads from the screen.

You let out a short laugh.

“Plumbing equipment my ass.”

“Yup,” Hansol agrees. “This has gotta be contraband.”

Despite all the weird shit that’s been going on, the man has remained cool as a cucumber the whole time. You’re reminded why you’ve hand-selected him to be your Pilot for the last six missions.

“So, we have no idea what this is or where it even came from.”

Hansol nods. “Affirmative.”

You take a closer look at the hole. Crude, jagged edges line the gashes where the wall was torn asunder. Worse, however - deep scratches lay engraved around the hole’s perimeter, distinctly made in sets of three; they look eerily like claw marks. It looks exactly like what you’d expect a titanium crate to look like if something large broke out of it. But, the impenetrable thickness of the walls renders the crate nearly indestructible. Whatever being was held here - it is capable of gargantuan strength.

“What could have possibly done this?” you ask - not necessarily to Hansol, for you know he doesn't know either. You really would rather not find out, but that doesn't seem like an option at this point.

Hansol stares into the bizarre crate, mind racing with theories and questions.

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it.”

You turn to face your Pilot. His demeanor is unchanged, but he looks undeniably concerned. As are you.

“Well. What now?”

Hansol gives a slight shrug.

“It's your call, boss.”

“Right,” you sigh. Being in charge of decision-making is something you've gotten very good at over the years, but it certainly is a burden sometimes.

A sudden few beeps resonate from Hansol’s wristband. He lifts his arm to read the notification.

“The rest of the crew is waking up now,” he informs you.

“Shit. We better go brief them on the situation.”

Hansol nods in agreement. He puts his flashlight back on his tool belt and pulls his pulse rifle up again - safety still on, but ready to fire if needed. You do the same, silently praying to any god who might be listening that you won't need to use it.

But you're not too optimistic about that.

TAGLIST: @miniseokminnies @kyeomiis @tinycatharsis @hannieween @smiileflower @exomew

#ren's fics #vernon #svt x reader #svt fics #vernon x reader #svt vernon #chwe hansol #vernon imagines #vernon scenarios #vernon fics #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen fics #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #scifi au #alien au

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owlisbuffering · 4 months ago

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Cheap Thrills

Inspired by this post by @a-twistedheartslonging and by my own experience

Word count: 667

Pairing: Ruggie x reader

Tags: fluff, flirting, being silly, pre- established relationship

You turned to leave Sam's, your errands completed for the morning, and a couple of small machines caught your eye. Just like the ones from your world, they were full of small plastic capsules containing cheap toys or stickers and rings. They only cost a couple coins and you'd gotten some change from Sam, so you wandered over. Ruggie, your errand partner for the morning, looked over your shoulder. "Whatcha gonna get?"

You hummed as you looked between the machines. An idea suddenly came to you, and you pointed to one on your right. "I like these rings."

"Seems like a waste of thaumarks if you ask me."

"Hush, you." you shushed as you put your money in and turned the handle. There were a couple of thunks and your capsule rolled out.

You popped the capsule open and let out a happy "oh!" You held it up so Ruggie could see it better from his vantage point where he still lingered at your shoulder. "Look how cute it is! It's perfect."

The plastic ring certainly looked every bit as cheap as it was, but it had a yellow floral design that reminded him of dandelions. He loved that you were so happy with such a simple little thing, especially one that hopefully reminded you of him, and he couldn't keep a soft smile from his face.

The smile quickly became a look of confusion when you turned to him, grabbed his left hand, and slipped it onto his ring finger. The hole in the molded plastic was small enough that the ring wouldn't go past his first knuckle. Undeterred, you took it off and slid it onto his pinky instead and grinned.

"Now we're engaged."

Ruggie's face took on a playful smirk. "I don't think so."

"Why not?" you pouted.

"You can do better than that. Come on, prefect. Ask me properly."

Your eyes widened briefly, but without missing a beat, you sank onto one knee and gently took his hand with the ring in both of yours. You slipped the ring off and started gently caressing his hand while you began dramatically, "Ruginald Cornelius Bucchi-"

"Cornelius?" Ruggie snorted.

You went on as though he hadn't said anything.

"Would you do me the greatest honor- and make me the happiest prefect alive- and marry me?"

He pretended to think about it and sighed. "Oh, alright, I guess."

You let out a small cheer and slipped the ring back onto his pinky, giving his hand a little kiss as a finishing touch.

He wasn't expecting that. Ruggie could feel a blush starting in his cheeks. You had gotten up again and were dusting yourself off, so maybe you hadn't noticed. He cleared his throat.

"But I hope you realize I don't come cheap! I expect donuts every Saturday."

You hummed. "Dang, that is steep. I don't think I can afford you."

Heaving a dramatic sigh and putting his hands behind his head, he said, "Well~, I guess I can cut ya some slack in light of the help you've given me with past errands. Donuts this Saturday and we'll call it even. To commemorate our engagement. Shishishi!"

You smiled brightly and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Done. I can handle that much for my fiancé."

With a little laugh, you grabbed his hand and pulled him along with you to finally exit Sam's and start back towards Ramshackle.

Ruggie was slightly dazed as the two of you walked along. A lot had happened in a few short minutes. You had kissed him? You were holding hands? How much of this was commitment to the bit and how much was maybe something else?

He could feel his tail wagging and he adjusted your hands so his fingers intertwined with yours. When you smiled at him and squeezed his hand, he decided the answer didn't matter.

He looked at the plastic ring on his pinky and smiled, too.

Maybe it wasn't a waste of thaumarks after all.

#i still have the ring #twst #twisted wonderland #twst ruggie #ruggie bucchi x reader #ruggie x reader #twst ruggie bucchi #twst fluff

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adinathinternationalindia · 10 months ago

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youtube

Digital Capsule Counting Machine

A sensor-based counting mechanism powers the digital capsule counting machine known as a electronic capsule counter or “digital capsule counter.” The machine has a special purpose sensor that counts capsules in pre-defined counts and closes the flap when counting reaches the predetermined counts. The best feature about this capsule counter is that, unlike conventional disc-based capsule counting devices, it does not require replacement parts when altering the sizes of the capsules and tablets.

When there are more counts, the electronic capsule counter is most often used. This machine can count up to 500 or 1000 counts, which is more than traditional counting machines can accomplish. This machine works well when it’s necessary to count a variety of sizes and forms. Adinath is one of India’s top manufacturers of capsule counting machines because of its innovative technology, sturdy construction, and reasonable prices.

#electronic capsule counter #digital capsule counter #capsule counter #disc-based capsule counting #capsule counting machines #Youtube

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bluemoonsunrise · 7 months ago

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Demons and Savages

pairing: tsu’tey and human!avatar driver (fem presenting)

content warnings: graphic language, violence, alien vs human differences, unconventional grief, the RDA sucks, enemies to lovers. (also, i don’t like to capitalize sentences on tumbler :3)

word count: …idk :P

pov: 2nd person so you can add yourself in. for writing/plot purposes, your character is named eris ramsey. i’ll use the name sparingly but i can’t take myself seriously writing y/n— so please just work with me here. i promise it’ll be worth it. (i hope)

———🌌———

SUMMARY: earth was dying and your sister was, too, but cancer killed her faster than humans were killing earth. when she passed, she not only left behind an empty apartment full of memories but a billion dollar avatar without a driver. in a desperate attempt to not waste that money, the program she had spent the last five years preparing to join recruited you— her twin. of course, you agreed. there was nothing left on earth for you. there was nothing left on earth for anyone— that’s why people like your sister were sent off to pandora.

when your sister had spoken of pandora, it seemed like a dream.

the RDA promised it would be like a safari adventure.

truth was that pandora is beautiful. beautiful and unlike anything else across the whole of the universe. it is breathtaking— and that’s because what chases you through the forest hunts with the intent to kill; so you best run like hell even if your lungs are on fire. beasts and monsters of all kinds lurk out of sight waiting for the right moment to kill you dead— but none are as dangerous as him.

the blue shadow with the bow.

chapter one

— assholes and arrows —

it was hard to imagine that you were 4.37 light years away from earth.

what the hell even was 4.37 light years? obviously, you knew you couldn’t throw a rock and hit earth, but it was still mind boggling that it took long enough that they had frozen you whole so that you wouldn’t die in the amount of time it took you to get to where you were going. had your sister known just how far away she would’ve been had it been her in that cryo-capsule?

of course, she did.

she was the scientist who knew how far a light year was.

she was the scientist that had devoted the last years of her life to the avatar program without knowing it.

god was cruel— but people were even crueler.

at your sisters funeral, you had not expected two men-in-black characters to approach you. you had expected to leave the service with your sisters ashes in an urn but not that and a brochure of pandora and the program on it.

the program that now needed you to pick up where she left off.

were you supposed to say no? it was too late for that now. you were 4.37 light years from home. the only thing you could do was get off the aircraft and try your best to be even a teaspoon as smart as your sister.

as soon as you stepped out of the aircraft, you were a fish out of water. soldiers in massive metal suits walked the runways carrying giant guns. AMP suits, as they were called. machines the size of buildings were shot with arrows and needed repairs. the RDA extraction facility — lovingly nicknamed hell’s gate — was brutalist. the massive colony was an eyesore, churning out dark gray smoke into the pretty blue sky.

surely, the men in charge would happily rot this place into nothing, too.

it took three days to figure out your way around. around the colony. around the avatar labs. around the social hierarchy that the people living here had factioned themselves into.

it took three days to feel comfortable. to feel comfortable in your link-pod. in your avatar body. in your crew consisting of one grumpy, cigarette-dependent scientist, a goody-two shoes scholar, and an paralyzed man with a big mouth.

once grace augustine stopped bitching about how she got stuck with two dead scientist’s twins, things started to seem alright— because if there was any relief in hell’s gate, it was jake sully.

jake was the universes way of apologizing to you for all the shit you had to go through to get where you were. native language exposure, protocol training, avatar study, and a program explanation all in one month before they stuck you in a box and express shipped you to the blue moon.

it had wrecked your brain. all the studying and the work and the cramming wrecked your brain entirely. you felt like mush after they had unfroze you because you felt like mush when they had frozen you.

at least you got training, though. poor jake was picked up a week before the ship left.

the only training jake had was military. he was a marine. despite being wheelchair bound now, you his tactical skill was of value when in his avatar. he was the happiest out of the whole crew to have been gifted one of those big blue bodies. his legs worked again.

jake opened up briefly about how he got injured during his deployment years back and hadn’t done much since. in his avatar, jake could never stay still. in his real body, it was still hard to keep still. while jake could do poppa-wheelies and drift around hallway corners in his wheelchair, fire a gun with alarming accuracy, and had the mental fortitude of a nuclear war bunker— he was going into this thing virtually blind and deaf.

because poor jake had lost his twin, too.

tommy had been shot.

bang.

gone just like that. days before his big trip, too. wrong place at the wrong time is what jake had said. all tommy’s life’s work was gone just as fast as your sisters was— even though cancer killed her slowly.

in the end, it didn’t matter.

all it takes is one second to die.

all it takes is one second to make the biggest damn mistake of your life and almost get eaten alive by a leathery, nightmare-inducing, panther-looking thing on your first ground excursion.

grace had prepared you for taking samples. she taught you how to use the log device and the tablets. she went over how to input data and file in her research. what she hadn’t prepared you for was the off chance that a monster larger than a car leapt out from the bushes and chose you as it’s afternoon snack.

and that off chance chose you today like god had chosen mary.

“oh shit! oh fuck!” you gasped as you ran as fast as your feet could carry you.

it was not very fast.

avatar bodies were a work of scientific genius— but no one cared to think about how much training the body would need to be able to perform well.

a shrieking roar told you that the monster was still behind you.

that and it’s thundering paws hitting the ground as it chased after you.

this was karma.

it was karma for enjoying animal planet reruns on the shit-box tv in your apartment. you would sit on your couch with a bowl of over-done popcorn drenched in salty butter in your lap while you watched lions chase gazelles.

at least the gazelles were fast.

why the fuck weren’t you fast!

your throat burned alongside your lungs. you couldn’t breathe. your vision tunneled. your legs ached. you could hear your heart in your ears. sweat poured out of you like bullets.

“run!” grace had shouted.

jake had unloaded a whole clip firing at the panther-like beast— but the damn thing had dodged and ducked behind trees.

that’s why it chased you.

because it had seen you cowering behind a tree.

one stupid mistake.

one stupid second.

claws swiped at your backpack and it sent you toppling over. teeth dug into the pack and with one violent shake, you flew up into the air.

you hit the ground hard. all the air gasped out of you. your ears rang. but you had time. the beast tore your pack to shred and you didn’t stick around to see it realize that backpack à la carte wasn’t tasty.

“oh jesus!”

swinging your arms like a mad man, you steadied yourself at the cliffside. a raging, rushing waterfall hammered into a river below. far below.

a feral snarl sent you whipping around.

backpack was not tasty, it seemed.

the pandoran-panther leapt into a sprint.

and you leapt off the cliff.

the water below felt like a wall. croosh! bubbling, swirling rapids rushed around you. it clogged your nose and burned. you struggled to kick your feet in the current.

swimming was a luxury on earth. what water was clean enough and who had money to go to a pool? only the ultra-rich liked pools. poor people liked old tv specials like animal planet.

instinct and the sway of the current helped you surface. you gasped like a baby taking their first breath. coughing out the water in your mouth, you fought hard to stay above the water. with your arms extended, you caught hold of rocks. you used all the strength your avatar body had and you hauled yourself up onto the rock.

all you could do was breathe.

in and out. fast and deep. over and over again. in and out. in and out. all that mattered was air even when the beast above snarled and screeched at you from the cliffside.

“fuck…you…” you panted.

while you could’ve passed out from exhaustion there, you couldn’t. you forced yourself onto your feet and leapt from the rock to the riverbed. you fell face-first into the mud. it didn’t matter.

nothing mattered but staying alive.

if the avatar died, you’d be shipped to an RDA labor prison to pay back the billion dollars it costed as best you could before you died.

keep moving, you told yourself. if you moved, you lived. movement is life. an actor named brad pitt had said that in an old zombie movie your dad had once showed you.

movement is life.

that became your mantra.

it was funny. running through the forest for you life, it was just funny that with all the money the RDA pumped into mining and space travel, no one could equip the avatar drivers with GPSs?

irony.

irony and karma.

the fear didn’t kick back into you and rattle your bones until the sun began to set. you tried to find shelter as fast as you could. all you had on you was a knife and a flashlight at your hip. the panther had taken your backpack and tore through it like it was clocked into their shift working for the TSA.

the TSA used to at least give your bag back to you.

you’d be getting no such treatment because you had no such luck in a place like this.

a place like pandora.

it was gorgeous. during the day, pandora was utterly jaw-dropping. at night— you didn’t want to know.

whether it was beautiful or not, it wouldn’t matter. it was horrifying. it nearly brought tears to your eyes as you stumbled through the forest with only your flashlight to guide you.

twigs snapped in every direction. a pack of cackling creatures ran through midnight brush. insects whirred and buzzed. massive leafs rustled in the breeze.

every noise made you jump.

every noise made you grip your knife tighter.

hurrying through the dark, you made more noise than you realized. ragged breaths. rustling clothes. loud footsteps. you may as well have been calling out for any dangerous creature to come and eat you whole.

when you exhausted yourself, you finally stopped.

in a clearing between massive trees, you fought to catch your breath. while standing in the open may have been stupid, at least you could see what sprung out at you first. whether or not you could fight it off was something you would deal with if it happened. for now, you breathed.

you clicked off your flashlight and you breathed.

lowering to a crouch to rest, you kept quiet and you kept vigilant. your breath soon returned. you knew to keep calm. while the anxiety you felt now was primal, it was still just anxiety. with each breath, you focused your mind.

you needed a plan.

you couldn’t keep running in the dark. you had to find somewhere to hide until morning. a cave. up in the trees. somewhere. somewhere away from danger.

the forest was glowing.

it was only once your heart had calmed and air actually got the chance to reach your brain that you realized the forest around you was glowing.

you felt your tail flick as amazement bubbled up inside you. you turned to look at it. you forgot you that the spindly blue thing. it fascinated you almost as much as your braid did.

at its core, this whole thing amazed you.

standing in an avatar body of a navi in the bioluminescent forest of pandora was amazing. while part of you had felt guilt leaving earth— pandora was a wonder you would choose again and again.

you got to your feet and admired the way the grass lit up as you took small steps. you smiled as glowing bugs buzzed by. the more you looked around, the more their was to see. truly. with your flashlight off, the forest lit itself. wonders of all kinds became visible.

a soft laugh escaped you as something white floated around your head. it reminded you of a jellyfish. a small, luminescent jellyfish. you spun as it circled you. your tail flicked and your ears perked as the fascinating little thing seemed to interact with you.

all the fear you felt was gone— but unbeknownst to you, you were in the most danger of your life.

in the tree above you, an arrow was begging to fly free from his bow and strike you through the chest.

as the small jellyfish creature landed in your hand, the sun would’ve felt ashamed to not be as bright as your smile if it were up.

the moment lasted only a few seconds. the floating creature hovered over your hand only for a fleeting moment before it moved up and up and up into the air.

you followed it with your eyes.

your little jellyfish friend was not the only thing you saw.

you could see his gleaming, glaring yellow eyes.

you could see the massive silhouette of his body.

you could see his bow that he held half-drawn.

all the shock you felt seeing his blue shadow in the night was nothing compared to the pack of wolf-like monsters that sprang from the dark and attacked.

teeth and claws ripped at your legs. taking out your ankles first, the pack of monsters knew how to hunt. when you fell, one of the large ones leapt at you. your hands shot out to catch the ugly mutt and protect yourself anyway that you could.

an arrow shot through its head and blood splattered across your face.

a gasp escaped you as the blue shadow jumped from the tree above and sprang into action. arrows flew as fast as bullets. one. two. three dead before you could even fumble for your knife.

a knife was nothing compared to him.

he alone with his teeth bared scared off the pack of horrifying wolves.

you could hardly breathe.

in utter silence, you watched as the Navi male retrieved his arrows. he was mumbling to himself. soft hisses escaped him as he pulled each arrow free from the kills he had made.

“thank you…” you whispered. tried to. you could hardly hear your own voice.

the beads in his hair clicked as he moved. he did not look at you. he didn’t have to. the scowl on his face sent a shiver of fear racing down your spine.

like a newborn deer, you tried to stand. the pain in your legs made you wince. again, you tried to get up but the pain only worsened.

a hiss sent you rigid.

you didn’t have to look up at him. he was crouched beside you with no taste for personal space. he grabbed your legs and tore the fabric around your knees off. you opened your mouth to shout at him but his scowl shut you up.

if he was going to kill you, he would’ve.

if he was going to hurt you, he would’ve.

he was checking your injuries.

“it’s bad, huh?” you asked in a whisper, “it’s really bad, isn’t it?”

he said noting.

all he did was prod at the wounds with his large, calloused finger.

“hey!” you kicked him lightly. “that hurts!”

he grabbed you by the bend of your knee and shoved. your head hit the ground hard as you fell back. tears wet your eyes on reflex. a soft groan escaped you. anger boiled in your blood. you pushed yourself up on your elbows intent on cursing him out.

you stopped as he wrapped your wounds in the fabric he ripped off your pants.

you grit your teeth and kept quiet. it hurt like a bitch. the rough, gritty fabric was unkind to your wounds. despite his never-ending scowl, he was gentle.

“thank you…” you whispered for the second time. this time he heard you.

“do not thank.” he hissed, his voice a deep, sharp slash in the space between you. “you should not thank for this. this is not good. this is sad.”

“i— i’m sorry?” you offered, just wanting him to know that you appreciated his kindness.

he only scowled at you.

when he stood, panic rushed through you. before your mind to race to any awful thoughts about how he may abandon you now, he extended his hands.

you hesitated.

he huffed out of his nose and curled his lip.

you reached for him instantly.

“ah— fuck…” you muttered as you stood. it was an awful stinging pain. it shot up your legs as you put your weight on them.

“very painful?”

you looked up at him as he placed his hand on your waist to support some of your weight.

tall.

so, so tall. a head and a half taller than you. it almost had you tongue tied. all you could do was nod. for a stupid, dumbfounded moment, you nodded like a idiot.

by the look in his eyes, he seemed to think you were exactly that.

the male grumbled. under his breath, he seemed to curse. your brows drew together as he turned around and crouched down. you stood still. your ears pinned back and you tilted your head. his tail began to flick. sharp and fast.

you had a cat once.

cats flicked their tails like that when they grew angry.

he reached back, grabbed your arm, and gave it a harsh tug. a gasp escaped you as you bumped into his back. the realization dawned on you when he brought your hand over his shoulder to his chest.

he would carry you.

carefully, you hooked your arms around him. with a fluidity that stunned you, he rose to his feet. you weighed nothing to him. even as a massive navi avatar yourself, you weighed nothing. his hands curled around your thighs and he hoisted you up higher on his back. you clung close and kept your head tucked toward his shoulder to try and keep his arrows from smacking you in the face.

“thank you— sorry.” you cringed. “sorry. not thank you. im sorry.”

for a moment it was silent as he walked.

“you are welcome.”

something tickled your belly at his response.

your heart was sprinting without you having to run from his acknowledgment alone. your head spun as it tried to keep up with all that had happened. he had leapt from the trees and saved you with no hesitation. he had tended to your wounds. he carried you to safety.

you couldn’t pull your eyes off his face.

his features were sharp. he had a sharp jaw. he had sharp ears. his flat nose was pointed down at the end, still making it sharp. his eyes were sharp. his lips. his teeth. his voice.

everything.

he was like a dagger.

heat rose to your face as he turned his head to meet your gaze. for the first time, he did not scowl. not at first. for a moment too fleeting, he was cat-like. he seemed to look at you just as closely as you looked at him. his pupils dilated and his ears perked— but his face soon became a disgruntled scowl as you stared at him too long and he jostled you as a warning.

you looked away. “what is your name?”

“tsu’tey,” he said after a moment of debating whether or not to answer.

“tsu’tey.” you repeated. it was fun to say. it made you smile. “my name is eris.”

“okay.”

his blunt, simple reply made you laugh. his ears pinned at the sound and he turned his head to look at you. he seemed bewildered by the fact that you laughed. embarrassment made your ears ring.

“uh…so…how old are you?” you asked, trying to keep the awkward tension at bay.

“cannot answer. don’t know how to say it like you.” he said with a small shake of his head.

you bit your lip. you were going to humiliate yourself but you may as well try.

“age?” you asked in navi.

tsu’tey looked back at you. a smile curled across his lips that disarmed you entirely. “i am twenty-five.”

“twenty-five? that’s cool. i— i’m also that. twenty-five, too. we’re the same age. that’s so…cool.” you stammered, at a loss for coherent words.

his smile dropped entirely and he shifted you on his back.

you had never wanted to die more.

“you must be getting ill from their claws. fever is common. we must get to the tsahik quickly.” tsu’tey said with a single nod of his head.

of course, yes.

your state of bumbling idiocy came from wounds— not that fact that a giant blue man had saved you and now carried you to safety on his back. it was a fever that made you hot, not the way his fingers felt around your thighs or the way his skin felt like velvet under your fingertips.

maybe you were having a stroke, too.

burning toast?

no, that was just the earthy, spicy scent of him that made your mouth water.

it wasn’t until he put you down that you had any idea of where you were. there was only one place you could be. you had read about it in the prep books that had once belonged to your sister.

the tree was larger than life.

hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of feet in the air, home tree towered the way colossus of rhodes could’ve only dreamed to.

you hissed under your breath as the weight on your wounds sent sharp pain through your legs. as you looked up at him, you realized there had been softness to his sharp features this whole time.

that softness was gone.

a startled yelp escaped you as he grabbed you by the end of your braid and pushed you forward.

“ow! hey!”

his voice was lethal. “walk, demon.”

with him guiding your every move, you walked. your face burned as you entered home tree. hundreds of navi turned and gasped. they chirped, calling out to inform others there was an intruder in their home. soon, the inhabitants were all too close trying to catch a glimpse of you.

tsu’tey hissed as hands stuck out to touch you. he barked orders in navi that were lost to your ears. so much was. hundreds of voices spoke at once. the chattering was deafening— and so was the sound of your racing heart as tsu’tey brought you in front of the chief.

your mind blanked on the navi title he held — as it had blanked on every word — but you knew who the male decorated in feathers and beads was. his large bow was hooked around his back. his old, sunken face was a masterpiece of stoicism.

beside him with her tail flicking was none other than the tsahik you were here to see.

tsu’tey let you go but he did not go far. not far at all. his hand curled around the hilt of his knife. if the order was given to kill you— it would be him who snuffed the life from your lungs.

you felt like you had been dropped into the middle of the ocean. you were fighting to stay steady. the pain in your legs had you wobbling. the conversation you found yourself in the middle of was lost to you ears. you could only pick out a few words.

kill her?

a question from the chief.

no.

an answer from tsu’tey.

eywa has given a sign.

your head snapped as those words left his lips. you looked up at him, your ears perking. as he met your eyes, his ears pinned back.

you understood. how much he didn’t know, but you understood. you knew more than he imagined you could’ve.

“you are injured.”

you turned your head as the tsahik approached you.

with a slow nod, you signed ‘i see you.’

a collective gasp was one that even tsu’tey shared in.

the tsahik’s tail swayed and she looked back at the chief. he had an expression you found hard to read. without another word, the tsahik grabbed your arm and guided you along. you swallowed your whimpers as you kept up with her long stride.

these people and their grabbing…

you glanced back over your shoulder to see tsu’tey let go of his knife and kneel before his chief.

“sit.” the tsahik demanded as you entered her hut.

slowly, you sat down on one of the mats. the hut was full of herbs, oils, and hanging flowers. a small fire burned in the center of the room. around it, mats lay in a circle. a small wooden table is where she stopped. she gathered medicines and supplies.

“what attacked you?” the tsahik asked.

“uh…i— i’m not sure.” you said with a shake of your head.

“describe.”

you swallowed thickly. closing your eyes, you tried to conjure any glimpse you could remember. “they…they were like dogs. six legs. black teeth. growling and cackling like hyenas. there was a pack of them.”

how the hell would she know what a dog was let alone a hyena?

idiot.

“nantang,” the tsahik said as she turned. she kneeled in front of you and seemed to smile with her ears, as if she found this amusing. “sky people like you named them viperwolves.”

“nantang…” you repeated softly. you’d surely remember that word.

“how did tsu’tey find you?” the tsahik asked as she unwrapped the makeshift bandages from your legs.

you grit your teeth as the air stung your wounds. you tried to sit still. “i was with my group. the other avatar drivers? we were out in the forest doing research with dr. augustine. grace. do you know her?”

the tsahik nodded once. she stuck her fingers into a jar of greasy ointment and began to lather it on your wounds. a soft grunt escaped you at the sting.

“i got separated,” you said through your teeth. you focused on telling your story. it distracted you from the pain. “there was this huge fucking thing that attacked. massive. all black. had these face-flap things that look like this.”

you tried your best to mimic what it had looked like with your hands and the tsahik stared at you with wide eyes.

you dropped your hands and fought the urge to strangle yourself as embarrassment churned in your gut.

“palulukan.” the tsahik said. she wrapped your legs in leafs and tied them with long grass-line twine. “i do not know what your people have called it, but it is very dangerous.”

“yeah,” you said with a small nod. “palulu…yeah, it was that thing. it chased me. i had to jump off a waterfall and i got lost. he found me in the forest playing with um…”

“it was small,” you raised your hands to show the size of the tiny thing. you traced your palm. “it could fit here. so small. it was white. it looked…like a jellyfish.”

the tsahik stopped.

she looked at you.

with blown pupils, she looked at you.

“atokirina…” she murmured.

your brows furrowed. “ato-what-now?”

the tsahik stood suddenly. she placed her hand on your head before she left her hut. you sat in silence. your ears pinned back and your tail swayed across the woven mat.

had she just patted your head?

maybe you weren’t as doomed as you thought you were.

alone in the warm hunt, staying awake began to get hard. it smelled like heavenly incense. the stinging in your wounds disappeared into a cool clam. the fire warmed what the icy river and night air had chilled.

if it weren’t for the urgency to know this body would be safe and the hunger that rumbled in your belly, you had every intention of falling asleep. not only was the body tired but you were tired.

how you could you not be with all that had happened?

not just today.

with everything.

her face was like a bruise on your soul that you hated to see even in your mind. looking at your own face in the mirror was just as hard because it looked like hers.

would your sister have been able to survive the palulukan? would she have had the guts to jump off the cliff? how the hell had you even had the guts to do that? on earth, you worked a shit job servicing food at a drive-and-dine and spent your nights watching old tv cartoons. where the hell had all your courage come from?

looking back; though, you’d always had some courage.

your sister had none.

and she would’ve been eaten alive.

guilt burned in your stomach as that thought resonated in your mind. you pushed it away as best you could. you pushed it all away. none of it mattered now. nothing about earth and your old life mattered. there was only here and now.

just as your eyes drooped shut, the beaded curtain pulled apart. you turned your head to find not only the tsahik but tsu’tey. him and his awful scowl.

“get up, demon. you come with me. it is decided.” tsu’tey said gruffly. he reached for your arm.

“what?” you asked, shaking your head.

“eywa has given us a sign, dreamwalker.” the tsahik said as she crouched to your level. she pulled a thorn from her chest piece and stuck your arm with it. she licked off the blood and smiled. “you are to stay here where we can keep our eyes on you.”

you rubbed at the small hurt on your arm. looking between the two of them, all you could do was nod. you wouldn’t pass up their hospitality. especially not if you knew the body would be safe here.

“tsu’tey himself saw the atokirina bless you. you are his student now. he shall teach you our ways.” the tsahik said. “it is decided.”

you looked up at him.

he scowled at the fire.

how fun…

“alright,” you said as you tried to heave yourself up. your body weighed a thousand pounds and your legs ached still, but you could move a bit easier. “it is decided then…”

tsu’tey shot the tsahik an annoyed expression but she only waved her hand. he huffed under his breath and grabbed you by the arm. he tugged you out of the hut.

“hey, man, c’mon!” you said, pulling your arm from his grasp. you glared up at him. “stop pulling me around. i can walk just fine.”

he only stared down at you. his tail swayed behind him and his ears perked. you could’ve sworn that you saw his lip curl into a smirk.

he turned and walked off.

fast.

“hey!”

you nearly had to jog to keep up with him. when you caught up to his side, he was smirking. this was a punishment. what an asshole!

“you are slow.” tsu’tey said without looking at you. his voice was always so sharp. his accent was thick and it made your ears tingle. “you are weak.”

“climb.” he said, flicking his head towards the center column of home tree. a spiraling, colossal root that acted as a staircase.

you grit your teeth. you hated heights but you hated that smug look on his face even more. you began to climb. he followed behind you. he watched you like a hawk. while his cold, challenging demeanor was as rough as sandpaper— his attentiveness was so sweet it could’ve rot away all your teeth.

he grasped your waist as you slipped. steading you on your feet, he kept you in place. you looked back at him. his hairless browns seemed to raise. it was like he was saying, ‘careful, demon.’

you brushed off his hand and continued on. you had no idea how far he was expecting you to go. you refused to look down. your breath was jagged in your throat and you had never felt more tired. just as your muscles couldn’t take anymore, he tugged your arm. together, you walked along a thick branch as wide as a runway. you followed him into a hanging hut.

it was small. three baskets by one wall. a woven mat across the floor. a bed of furs. small holes in the ceiling to let strands of light in. it was cozy. it smelled of him. you liked it.

“remove those clothes.” he said as he crouched over one of the baskets. he dug through it.

you eyes widened. “excuse me?”

he looked back at you. “remove. the. clothes.” he said again. this time, as if your were an idiot.

when he stood, he held a garment made of beads and a long loincloth similar to his own. standing before him now, you realized just how much of him you could see.

he was broad. impeccably so. his long limbs were slim and his frame was slender but he had muscle. you knew he did. you felt it as he grasped you and carried you through the forest.

bands decorated his arms. a woven leather corset was snug around his ribs. it probably was meant for something tactical but to you it looked like a corset. his waist was small. his legs were long and powerful. around his neck was a collar-like necklace made of hundreds of beads.

his blue skin held the most interesting stripes. his tail was long. a lot longer than yours. it flicked impatiently. his hair was braided back, except for a few pieces with red breads hung by his face. the long braid of his queue flowed down his back. in the dim light of his hut, his freckles glowed.

“now, demon.” he demanded again, throwing the garments at you.

“turn around.” you said, jutting your chin at him.

he narrowed his eyes at you and shook his head. “what?”

“turn.” you said, gesturing the action with your finger.

he scoffed.

“have you no sense of privacy?” you asked with a scowl that seemed to amuse him.

“privacy. human word. meaningless to me.” tsu’tey spat as he passed by you. he made sure to hit you with his shoulder as he exited his hut.

“savage…” you muttered under your breath.

as you undressed yourself, you could hear him pacing outside. he must be paranoid. did he think you would stab him in the back if he turned? wouldn’t you have done that in the forest?

or maybe privacy really wasn’t a thing to him— to any of the navi. less so than humans, at the very least. they did only cover their gentiles with loincloths and breasts with beaded tops. they showed far more skin than the average human did.

dressed in such a thing now, you felt entirely out of your comfort zone. the string of the loincloth rode up your ass. you had to adjust it for it to feel comfortable. the beaded top you wore hid your perky blue nipples, but not much else. while navi breasts were small, your chest wasn’t flat. the human dna used to create the avatar gave the body extra features.

five fingers. hairy eyebrows. the queues extending out from the nape of the neck and not the top of the head. the male avatars had more muscle. they were bulkier than navi-born males. the female avatars were aerodynamic and slim like navi-born females, but their chests weren’t as flat. compared to your real body, the boobs on your avatar were nothing. but the boobs compared to the populaces normal, it was definitely something more.

as you exited his hut, tsu’tey turned. the cold, harsh scowl he wore faltered. you felt something warm tingle in your stomach as his eyes mapped the whole of you. his pupils dilated and his ears perked up as his eyes landed on your chest.

you swatted at him— or tried to.

he caught your wrist and tugged you along. you did not protest. protesting with him did you no good. that was something you learned quick.

“tomorrow, i teach you how to ride.” tsu’tey said as he led you back down the main column of home tree.

going down was much scarier than going up. you gripped his hand and stared at the back of his head the whole time. while he was tense, he did not pull his hand from yours.

“ride what?” you dared to ask. your heart was in your throat.

“pa’li.” tsu’tey said. he glanced over his shoulder. “you call them…horse.”

a horse? that should be easy enough. you used to watch old western specials as a kid. nothing too terrifying about a horse, right?

instead of walking back down to the ground level, you entered a large hollow section of the tree. hundreds of navi gathered. sitting down all together, you realized they were eating.

you could’ve cried. thank you, lord! your stomach felt hollow with hunger for the last hour.

“sit.” tsu’tey said, pushing at your shoulder.

you sat. the navi beside you seemed to shy away. you looked up at tsu’tey but he was gone. he was off to the side gathering food off a long wooden table. when he returned, he handed you the leaf piled with meats, berries and nuts without a word.

you ate in silence across from him. he sat with the tsahik and the chief— the olo’eyktan. you remembered the word. beside them, a strikingly beautiful navi woman. she ate without lifting her gaze.

as her ears pinned back, you knew she could feel you staring. you were quick to look down at your food.

it tasted better than anything you ever had before and you ate with haste. the pain in your stomach ceased and you ate your fill. it was rude not to clean your plate. you made sure to eat every last bite.

when you finished, you looked up to see tsu’tey watching. your ears perked as he flicked his head. you followed his gaze to the long table full of food. it took you a second but you realized he was asking you if you were still hungry.

meeting his gaze, you shook your head no.

he nodded once.

the clan ate all together— and they slept at the same time, too. filing up through the main column, people separated into their designated beds. hundreds of hanging hammocks and nests filled the space between the internal branches. single navi slept alone. pairs slept with each other. families shared nest-like hammocks.

“come,” tsu’tey said, guiding you onward.

as you followed him, you couldn’t help but feel a pair of eyes deadlocked onto the back of your head. looking over your shoulder, you saw her again. the female navi. she climbed down into her own hanging hut and disappeared. when she was gone, that’s when you remembered tsu’tey was an impatient jackass who would yank your arm if you didn’t pay attention.

he nearly did but you reacted just in time.

“what’s her name?” you asked. you flicked your head in the direction of her but.

tsu’tey followed your gaze. his shoulders stiffened and his lips twitched. not a smile. a frown. “that is neytiri. daughter of olo’eyktan and tsahik.”

“this is yours.” he said with a lazy point towards a hanging hammock. it was nearby his hut. a branch below. “you sleep now. tomorrow is going to be long.”

“aye-aye, captain.” you said with a salute.

tsu’tey narrowed his eyes as a puzzled expression took over his face. you swallowed hard. slowly, you signed to him.

‘i see you’.

he only huffed out a small goodbye. you watched as he climbed his way to his own hut. he did not look back at you. he disappeared inside and the flap shut.

you sighed and carefully slipped your way into your hammock. it was comfier than you thought it would be. warmer, too. the warm air and soft breeze made it easy to feel drowsy as you laid down. the gentle sway of the hammock made your eyes heavy.

it felt like you had fallen asleep. black muddled behind your eyelids before bright, tunneling white.

all you could see was white.

there was a loud, incessant ringing in your ears.

“c’mon, kid, wake up.”

the white blinding light began to morph into shapes. into colors. into people. a ginger haired scientist. she moved her flashlight in and out of your face, patting your cheek.

“hey,” grace said, her voice coming in clear. “snap out of it.”

sense rushed back into your brain as she snapped her fingers beside your ear. your eyes widened and a gasped cleaved it’s way out of your chest. the whirr of the machine purred in your ear. the bright lights of the room were harsh after the gentle luminance of the pandoran forest.

“are you okay?” grace asked, pushing your hair behind your ears. it was the kindest she’d ever been. “how are you feeling? is the avatar safe?”

“i— i am. i’m good…” you said. your voice was hardly a whisper. your breath came hard and fast. even then, a smile curled onto your lips. “doc, you’re gonna do backflips when you find out where i am.”

[thanks for reading :3 this is a lot of fun to write and i have a lot planned <3 tsu’tey is an underappreciated king and a slow burn romance fic is exactly what the world needs i fear :) see ya next chapter! —moony]

next chapter >

#tsutey #avatar 2009 #james cameron avatar #avatar 2009 fan fic #human reader #Avatar driver reader #Navi x avatar driver #tsutey x you #slow burn #angst #yearning #jake sully #neytiri #enemies to lovers #found family

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sweetchestnutdaydreams · 8 months ago

Text

◤Burnt Toast◢

Character: Spencer Reid Genre: Humor, Fluff Word Count: 1,479 words Warnings: None, just light humor and fluff Summary: You’re determined to make Spencer breakfast in bed, but things don’t exactly go as planned. Chaos ensues in the kitchen, but Spencer finds it all ridiculously endearing.

The morning starts gently. Sunbeams filter through the curtains, slipping timidly into the room, while the comforting warmth of Spencer’s familiar body is pressed against yours — a rare luxury, with his unpredictable schedule. You stay there, silently watching him, fascinated by every detail of his face. His features are soft yet deeply masculine, a perfect balance. His brows furrow slightly in his sleep, and you can’t help but smile as his lips whisper words only his dreams can understand.

It’s a beautiful sight, one you want to burn into your memory to hold onto until the next time. A less dramatic option would be to grab your phone and take a picture, but you’re too scared to wake him. You slip carefully out of bed, pausing at every creak of the floorboards, holding your breath. Any louder breath from Spencer makes you flinch. After what feels like an eternity, you finally reach the kitchen.

With your hands on your hips, you glance around the room, thinking about what you could prepare for your boyfriend for breakfast. And not just any breakfast—breakfast in bed. Because you woke up before him, he had a long week, and he deserves a treat for that—though, really, he always deserves a treat, but this time you have the perfect excuse to make sure he doesn’t feel bad about it.

You’re not the best cook, but it can’t be that hard to whip up a perfect—edible—meal for your love, right?

You start by rummaging through the fridge, pulling out eggs and bacon before grabbing the bread and setting everything on the counter. Each movement is deliberate, like you’re walking on eggshells, afraid of waking Spencer by accident. Everything is going so well.

It’s when you get to the coffee—the simplest thing in the world, really—that things start to go wrong.

You put Spencer’s favorite capsule into the machine, place the coffee cup, and press the features. The button blinks as usual, so you turn your attention back to the eggs sizzling in the pan.

The spatula slides under one of the eggs, the yolk wobbling dangerously, and you flip it over awkwardly. The pride you feel at your successful maneuver is cut short by a shrill noise. You jump, eyes wide, and rush toward the coffee machine. You frantically press all the buttons, none of which you understand, but nothing stops the noise. Finally, you yank the cord from the wall, the motion so abrupt that the cup dislodges.

Crouching, breath caught in your throat, you blink dumbly before pressing the curse object to your forehead and muttering another obscenity. You glance at the hallway, straining your ears, but there’s no sign that Spencer’s been disturbed. A sigh of relief escapes you as you set the cup back.

Your gaze falls again on the stupid coffee machine, and you decide to abandon that part of the plan. After one last murderous glare at the thing, you open the bag of bread with a resigned sigh and slip two slices into the toaster. You set the dial to the middle, push down the lever, and this time, you stand your ground, arms crossed.

Go ahead, try me, you think, glaring intensely at the toaster as if daring it to fail.

The crackling of the eggs in the pan, followed by the unmistakable smell of burning, snaps you back to reality. You hastily turn off the burner and grab the pan. But your grip slips, and you catch it just in time, but too late: the burned eggs slide off the edge and splat onto the floor in a defeated thud.

“Seriously?” You mutter with a click of your tongue, exasperated. The universe clearly decided you would never make breakfast for Spencer.

You head to the sink to wash the pan, then wipe the edges a bit too aggressively. On your way back, you, of course, slip on the eggs you forgot to clean up.

A surprised yelp escapes you as you fall hard on your butt, the pan clutched against your chest in an absurd reflex. A sharp pain shoots through your back, and as you try to get up, your knee lands right in the sticky mess of egg white and yolk. You grimace, frustrated, before heading back to grab something to clean up the disaster.

This is why you hate cooking, you tell yourself as you kneel (carefully) to clean up the mess. The kitchen itself seems out to get you. Once the floor is clean again, you try to ignore the gross, sticky feeling on your arms and pajama pants, debating whether or not to cook more eggs for Spencer.

That’s when the smell of burnt toast hits your nose. The smoke reaches you just before the alarm goes off. Your heart leaps into your throat, and you act on instinct, grabbing a towel to wave away the smoke from the detector. It takes just a few swipes, a couple of quick beeps, and you still cling to the vain hope that you haven’t woken Spencer.

You run a hand through your hair, stopping when you feel your strands stick to your fingers. A groan escapes you. Of course, you forgot to wash your hands, and now you have egg in your hair.

“My love?”

Spencer stands in the doorway, his voice thick with sleep as he rubs his eyes. He still seems half-asleep, not fully registering the chaos. You offer him a guilty smile and a nervous laugh.

“I hope I didn’t wake you…?” you mumble, hoping the disaster is less obvious than it looks.

He hums as his gaze sweeps across the mess—from your clothes to the floor, to the counter, and finally to the stove. His eyes linger a little too long on your hair, and you can see the corner of his lips twitching.

“Don’t laugh!” you threaten, pointing a finger at him, but his lips are already trembling, barely able to contain his laughter.

Spencer presses his lips together, but he utterly fails to suppress his chuckle. He steps closer, and though you cross your arms in a pout, it takes everything in you not to melt as he wraps his arms around you and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“What is all this?” he asks, his hands rubbing your back.

“… Surprise?” Spencer laughs again, squeezing you a little tighter as you sway gently, side to side. You give up your pouting, burying your face in his chest, and wrap your arms around him. “I wanted to make you breakfast.”

“Oh?”

“In bed, " you clarify.

Spencer murmurs a soft "I see," and holds you close, as if this moment is all he needs. The chaos in the kitchen, the egg-stained pajamas, it all seems to disappear. You stay there, unmoving, savoring the simple warmth of being together until he finally pulls away, letting out an exaggerated sigh, as if giving up an internal battle.

“Thank you for the surprise, sweetheart,” Spencer smiles at you, cupping your face in his hands before giving you a soft kiss.

You frown, but another kiss is enough to smooth your expression. “I messed everything up.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And I woke you up,” you continue, frustrated by his indifference.

“So?” His long fingers find their way to the back of your head, gently tilting it until your eyes meet. His hands massage your scalp tenderly, making it hard to concentrate on your words.

“It’s—um,” you stammer, struggling to find your words. His gaze is gentle yet intense, and his soothing caresses make it difficult to focus. “It’s rare that you get to sleep in.”

Spencer kisses you again, more firmly this time. It makes you melt, like it always does. He sighs into your mouth, content, as you relax, your shoulders easing and your hands naturally finding their way around his neck. His arms move down to your lower back, pulling you even closer.

When you finally part, breathless, Spencer presses his nose against yours. He trails small kisses along the curve of your cheek, making his way down to your jaw. He lingers softly before murmuring into your ear:

“Thank you for the surprise, Angel.”

“You’re w-welcome,” you murmur, still dazed.

Seemingly satisfied, Spencer plants one last kiss on your temple before pulling you toward the bathroom. You blink, following him obediently, a little lost.

“Spencer?”

“Let’s start with a shower, okay?” He throws you a playful, teasing look over his shoulder, and you suddenly remember the egg still stuck in your hair. “Afterward, we can take breakfast in bed. Together.”

How could you possibly say no to that?

#criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #fluff #humor #one-shot #my writing

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electric-ocean-explorer · 1 month ago

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Law x Vegapunk!Oc

"Second Chance"

Warnings: SFW, Angst, Fluff, Past trauma, Law is bad with fellings.

Word count: ~1.700

Synopsis: A story of found family, emotional healing, and a dangerously carefree robot who tries to challenge Law's emotional walls in very odd ways.

Notes: Yanno I can't hold myself. Again.

Everything was going smoothly aboard the Polar Tang that morning. It was nearly time to surface to refresh the air when the sonar picked up something unusual.

“Captain! We’ve detected a strange object on sonar. Something very dense near the surface,” Bepo announced, turning to Law with a hint of nervousness. “Should we investigate?”

Adjusting the periscope, Penguin blinked at the sight. “Looks like a capsule… but it’s kind of dented,” he commented, frowning. His expression quickly shifted to concern. “Captain, you need to see this.”

What Law saw made his stomach tighten. Etched on the side of the capsule were the words: “Dr. Vegapunk – Punk 7.”

He had to decide quickly: ignore it and carry on with the mission, or take a gamble on this strange artifact. At best, it could hold valuable information against the Marines; at worst, a trap that could endanger everyone on board. He had to tread carefully.

“Surface,” Law commanded, the corner of his mouth twitching into a faint smirk. It was a high-stakes bet — and he was willing to take it.

The Polar Tang rose to the surface in seconds. Its decompression systems, designed for strategic retreats amidst Grand Line chaos, functioned flawlessly. As soon as they emerged, they spotted the strange metallic sphere floating in the distance. Law was already standing by the hatch.

“Room. Shambles.” In a blink, the capsule appeared on deck.

“Solid ground detected. Emergency protocol initiated" announced a metallic voice as the object began to open automatically.

From inside emerged a small, humanoid-looking girl (insert your imagined features here). One side of her face was marked by what resembled a crack. Slowly, she opened her eyes, pupils adjusting to the light.

“Are you… Dr. Vegapunk?” she asked in an innocent tone, tilting her head as if she genuinely didn’t know what to expect.

Law didn’t answer right away. He’d expected a weapon, a machine, classified documents, maybe even a dangerous chemical… but a girl? That wasn’t part of any calculation.

“Mochi mochi?” She waved her hand in front of his face, making him flinch slightly.

“I’m not Vegapunk. I’m Trafalgar D. Water Law. Identify yourself immediately.”

“Punk 7, at your service!”

Law kept a stern expression, but his eyes were already scanning every inch of her. His internal diagnostic instincts kicked in: vitals, structure, threat level. But before he could speak again, the girl hopped nimbly out of the capsule and stretched her arms like she’d just woken up from a nap.

“Ahhh, it feels good to be out of that awful thing! How long was I asleep? No wait… did I sleep for years?” She looked around with childlike curiosity, approaching the ship’s railing with wide eyes. “Wow, this is the real ocean?! Amazing! I’ve only seen simulations! Hey, do you guys have turtles? They still exist, right? Oh no—what if they went extinct while I was sleeping?!”

Law frowned, completely thrown off. It’s not every day a potential World Government weapon emerges from an experimental capsule asking about turtle extinction.

Bepo, equally baffled, leaned closer to whisper, “Captain… what now?”

Meanwhile, the girl, blissfully unaware of the tension around her, turned to the crew, hands on her hips and beaming like a cheerful radio host. “Good morning, good afternoon, and good evening, mystery crew! Pleased to meet you! You can call me Punk 7… or just Nana! It’s friendlier, right?”

“Captain, can we keep her?” Ikaku was already hugging her, teary-eyed.

“Enough!” Law cut in. “First, I need to know who — or what — you are, where you came from, and why you were in that capsule.”

Nana paused, raised a finger as if about to give an excellent explanation… then made a thoughtful face. “Hmm… good question, Mr. D. Water Serious,” she said, then gave herself a playful bonk on the head and laughed sheepishly. “Hehe, I kind of… broke?”

Law arched an eyebrow. “What do you mean, ‘broke’?”

“Oh, you know. Classic existential glitch, maybe a few corrupted files here and there, some missing data. Totally normal after being locked in a capsule on standby mode with probable head trauma.” She shrugged with an overly calm grin. “I don’t fully remember my purpose. But I do have a great sense of humor and an updated joke database!”

“That… is not at all reassuring.”

“And it shouldn’t be!” she declared, throwing her arms out dramatically. “Because if there’s one thing humanity fears, it’s when their creation develops its own opinions.”

Law stepped closer, cautious. “Do you remember anything useful?”

Nana placed a hand on her chin, thoughtful.

“Hmm… I remember lights. Lots of lights. And a voice—probably Vegapunk’s—saying, ‘This should work.’ Which, you know, sounds sort of hopeful. I also remember a lab… and music. They used to play a song to calm me when tests went wrong. Oh, and a banana bread recipe! Though that one might’ve come from a pirated cooking program…”

Law crossed his arms, his brain aching from trying to process her nonsense. She was worse than the damn Straw Hat. “So you have no idea what your real purpose is?”

“None! But hey, maybe the universe sent me to you guys for a reason!” She pointed to the sky excitedly, then shrank a little. “Or maybe I just hit the wrong button in the capsule. Both options are equally likely.”

Law sighed. She was a walking enigma, possibly one of Vegapunk’s secret projects, but oddly… she didn’t feel threatening. At least, not yet.

“We’ll monitor you closely. Until we understand more about who — or what — you are, you’ll be under observation. And don’t go snooping around the submarine.”

“Understood, Captain Grumpy!” She saluted dramatically, nearly slipping. “Punk 7, official mascot of the Polar Tang, reporting for duty!”

Penguin chuckled to Shachi. “I give her three days before she touches the main engine.”

Shachi replied without looking away from Nana, who was now mimicking Bepo’s gestures.

“Three? That’s optimistic.”

. . .

Silence ruled Law’s lab, broken only by the sound of instruments and pages turning. The room was sterile, precise, like the man himself — everything in order, nothing out of control.

Until…

“Captain, have you considered that if this place had a bit more color, patients might feel more comfortable?”

Law didn’t look up. “No. And stop putting glitter in my workspace.”

Nana, hanging upside down from the ceiling pipes (for some reason), made a dramatic pout.

“Aww… you never let me add personality to things! This place looks like a depressed dentist's office.”

Law finally looked up, glaring as if he could teleport her across the ocean. “This is a submarine operating room, not an amusement park.”

“And that’s exactly why it needs a touch of life!” she said, flipping down with an unnecessarily acrobatic and loud landing. “By the way, when was the last time you slept more than three hours?”

“None of your business.”

“Aha!” She pointed at him like she’d just solved a mystery. “I knew it! You’re one of those self-sabotaging leaders!” She started mimicking him. "I'm too strong to need rest! Caffeine is my only friend!’”

Law rubbed his face in frustration. “I never said that.”

“And I never said you did.”

Whether he liked it or not, Law was aware: Nana had completely disrupted his routine. She invaded his space, challenged his logic, made up wild theories about the crew (“Bepo’s probably a Revolutionary spy disguised as a mascot!”) and, worst of all… she asked questions. About him. About how he felt. About what he wanted.

And that was dangerous.

Not because she was malicious, on the contrary. Nana was like a ray of sunlight wrapped in cracked metal, still determined to shine. She laughed easily, spread chaos like it was confetti, and somehow… she was filling parts of Law he didn’t know were empty.

She reminded him of Corazon.

Not in looks, not exactly in behavior. Corazon was clumsy in a quiet way, always trying to put out fires — while Nana loved to start them. But there was something… a similar light. A spark that refused to die, even in darkness.

Law hated it.

Because every time she smiled at him like he deserved it, something inside him hurt. An old pain, deep and lingering. As if the universe was testing whether he could lose another light. “Not again” his mind whispered every time she made a joke at his expense or bumped into him just to get a reaction. “Don’t get attached.” He couldn’t afford it. Not anymore.

But Nana didn’t understand those boundaries. She kept cracking his armor. And worst of all — she made him laugh. Something he hadn’t done, not truly, since…

Since he saw Corazon’s body bleeding on the ground.

Law closed his eyes briefly, still sitting on deck, ocean sounds in the background, Nana beside him staring up at the stars.

"You remind me of someone I can’t forget", he wanted to say. "You make me want to protect someone again. And that terrifies me." But he didn’t.

“Hey,” Nana broke the silence, gently nudging his arm. “If you could change something about your past… would you?”

He took a while to answer. “I don’t know,” he said at last, voice low. “Sometimes I think yes. Other times… I think it made me who I am.”

“You know, I don’t have a past. But sometimes I think that just means I can be whoever I want. A mess in progress,” she joked, but her smile was smaller.

Law looked at her. For the first time, not through the lens of caution or logic — just with quiet humanity. “You’re not a mess. Just… under different circumstances.”

She turned to him, surprised by the quiet confession. “You’re really getting soft, Captain.”

“Shut up, Nana.”

She smiled, not mocking this time. A small, grateful smile. Almost reverent. And for once, Law allowed the silence to exist between them, not as discomfort, but as something necessary. As if maybe, just maybe, her presence wasn’t a threat.

But a second chance.

#fanfic #sfw fanfic #one piece #onepiece x reader #op x reader #law x reader #law x oc #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar one piece #onepiece fanfiction

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