#not under a read more cause its so short anyway

[ddejavvu]

jake with a shy!reader i feel like that man would be so down bad he’d be unrecognizable to his friends

Tailgating by the beach means sand in your hair (and everywhere else), a trash can full of beer bottles, and a whole lot of wipeouts. For most.

For you, it means Jake’s sweatshirt bunched up under your head like a pillow as your back rests against the metal grooves of his pickup’s bed. Your pinky is intertwined with the man’s own as you stargaze, avoiding the cloud of smoke billowing up from the bonfire.

“That one looks like an F-35.” He informs you, pointing at a constellation that is definitely not a fighter plane.

“I think that’s Draco.” You hum, “Not sure, though.”

Jake turns to you with a furrow in his brow, “That little shit from Harry Potter?”

“No!” You shriek, louder than you’re used to speaking. Jake has a way of making you forget your reservations, giving you the courage to speak up around him.

“It’s a constellation.” You quiet yourself, feeling Jake’s pinky tighten around yours. “I read that it was supposed to be in the sky tonight.”

“You read up on the stars?” Jake turns to you, propped on his side in the truck bed. It must be awful on his hips, but he does it anyways to gaze at your side profile.

You give him a front view, turning your head to stare back at him, “I didn’t do it on purpose, I just saw it on Instagram, I think. On someone’s story.”

He hums in acknowledgment, but neglects to return to stargazing. He’s yougazing now, his eyes tracing the curve from your chin to your cheek, then sloping down the bridge of your nose.

“Do you think-”

You’ll never know if you and Jake share thoughts on whatever matter is in his head, because a sudden thud against the mouth of the truck bed makes you startle, and Jake nearly breaks his neck sitting up to see who made the noise. You draw yourself upright but slower, more cautiously.

It’s one of his squadron members, you’ve seen the guy before in passing, but you don’t think he’s ever noticed you. He’s on the shorter side, and he’s quickly flanked by both Coyote and a taller, unknown counterpart.

“Hangman,” The short one snickers, “I was betting you were passed out somewhere with a bottle in your mouth, not schmoozing some poor woman in your truck.”

You’ve met Javy before, albeit briefly when you’d passed in the hallway of his and Jake’s shared apartment, and in the few terrifying seconds of confrontation your eyes stray over the man’s shoulder and meet Javy’s. He sends you a kind, sympathetic smile at the antics of his friend. You feel safe around him.

“What’s your name, honey?” The taller man leans over the side of the truck bed, a smirk on his face, “Last one was Brenda- no, Brianna.”

“Payback, that was months ago.” Javy snaps, and even though you know it’s true, Jake still looks guilty. He’d confessed in you that he wasn’t exactly a saint when it came to past relations, but all that mattered was the present for you; that you were the only one in it, and he’s stuck to that without a problem.

“I’m not schmoozing her, Fanboy.” Jake drawls, a vicious look in his eyes, “We were trying to have a private moment.”

Fanboy elbows Payback incredulously, shit-eating grins already on their faces, “Sex in a pickup! On the beach, in public. Jesus, man, there’s nothin’ you won’t do.”

“I won’t hesitate to break your nose if you don’t shut your mouth,” Jake seethes, and his free hand tenses into a fist even if he’s more bark than bite. Fanboy doesn't flinch, but Payback's smirk dims.

"Lay off, man." Coyote elbows Fanboy, "It's not like that."

"The only reason you've never met'er before is 'cause I knew you'd act like this," Jake scoffs, "Doesn't mean she's some cheap fling."

You desperately want to intervene, but you don't have the words to do it even if you tried. There's a thousand swirling in your brain, but there's a stopper in its drain to your mouth, a thick clog of panic.

"Well what is your name?" Payback repeats his question, more considerate this time. You're glad he seems to have dropped his bravado, even if you're not sure Fanboy has.

"Y/N," You manage to speak, glad that you know your own name well enough to utter it even when your brain doesn't cooperate. You don't say much else, though, and Javy fills in for your silence.

"She's Jake's girl," Javy smiles at you, happy to see his friend settling down, "She's not big on talking. Not to assholes like you, anyways."

"Well that's great," Fanboy's demeanor is much nicer when he's not goading his teammate, "'Cause Jake never shuts up. Sounds like a match made in heaven."

"I'm gonna send you to hell if you don't leave us alone," Jake glares pointedly at Fanboy in particular, but the expression is extended to Payback as well, "I wasn't kidding, we were having a conversation."

"That's our cue," Coyote informs the other two, who knew but weren't willing to give up their teasing leverage. He rings an arm each around their necks, bidding you a kind goodbye as he leads them away.

"Darlin'," Jake turns to you as soon as they're gone, like a guard dog that eases out of attack mode, "I'm so sorry. They don’t mean any harm, just- they seriously don't know when to quit, 'probably comes from bein' so aggressive in the air. I'm sorry they were so pushy."

"It's alright," You nod, "It's not your fault, Jake. I'm not angry, I just- I was a little embarrassed."

"I know," He hums sympathetically, leaning in to peck your lips, "I know baby. Listen, now they've met you, they'll probably back off. And if they don't, if you see 'em around somewhere and they try messin' with you, you let me know and I might accidentally fire on 'em in an exercise."

"I don't think you should murder your friends," You tamp down a smile at Jake's suggestion, because the last thing he needs is encouragement, "But I hope I don't see them when you're not around."

A hundred feet away, down on the smooth, wet sand of the shore, Coyote finally lets Payback and Fanboy go, shoving their heads down with the force of his grip around their necks.

"Ow, dude!" Fanboy gripes, but he deserves it the most, "If I'm gonna break my neck it's gonna be in the air, in some sick-ass stunt maneuver."

"Your sick ass needs to learn to shut up," Coyote scoffs, "He's serious about that girl, man! And I wouldn't be surprised if she was running for the hills now."

"C'mon, Coyote, we were just teasing," Payback pleads his case, but Coyote narrows his eyes.

"You can't tease her, not like that. Hell, the first time she ever came over I made a joke about wearing noise-cancelling headphones for them and she couldn't look me in the eye for weeks."

"The first time she came over," Payback's brow furrows, "He's been bringing her around your guys' place?"

"I told you he was serious," Coyote throws a glance back over to Jake's truck, where his hand is pointed in the air once more, "Know any other reason he'd be stargazing right now?"

Fanboy's face wrinkles in a confused grimace, "Stargazing? He's way too douchey for that."

"He's way too in love not to," Payback marvels, "Holy shit. That's- I can't process that, man, that's weird."

"Get used to it," Coyote takes a swig of his beer, "Y'know he's been lighting candles in our apartment for her? I mean, it's nice, 'cause it gets rid of his nasty laundry smell, but candles. Hangman, candles!"

Fanboy rears his head back, "What scent?"

"Lavender."

"Lavender?"

"I know!"

[ohdeerfully]

Headcanons! Alastor with a plush demon reader :3 like readers sinner form is a plush! Because I love height differences and it sounds real cute

-🃏🐱

hi 🃏🐱!! i wrote this more platonically, so it could be read either way, but i might write a more romantic flavored one too :3! sorry its rather short, i hope you enjoy it anyway!

edit: after rereading the request i realized u asked for headcanons but i wrote a whole oneshot im </3 *knocks on my head and it sounds hollow*

Alastor x Plushie!Reader

PLATONIC fluff TW: none! readers kind of a weirdo by accident

join my discord!

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It was no surprise that you became popular in hell very quickly after manifesting. You were often stopped in the streets by people wanting to squish your soft skin, and some people wanting selfies.

I mean, who wouldn’t fall in love with a living stuffed animal? You were very likely the first of the kind.

There was one demon, however, that seemed immune to the charm. No matter how many times you stood on his lap, your giant squishy paws pressed onto his chest, looking at him with your shiny button eyes… he just would not yield. And it frustrated you to no end.

So, you had made it your life—or, death—goal to get him to squish your plushy skin. Even if you had to force him to.

It started with you merely sitting next to him at every opportunity, swinging your legs against the cushion of the couch. Your legs barely reached over the edge; you were quite short. Sitting next to Alastor felt like sitting next to a skyscraper. 

You would lay down, sit up again, roll onto your back, over and over again, trying to get his attention on you. He wouldn’t ignore you, per say, as he would respond to your conversations politely, albeit a bit condescending in his typical manner; but, his hands never left the comfort of being folded neatly in his lap.

It got to the point where you were practically laying yourself on top of him, getting desperate now. But, every time, he would simply grab you under the arms and easily set you a foot or so away from him. He would give you a quick pat on the head, but you wanted more than that. Every pat on the head felt like a cruel reminder that he wanted nothing to do with you.

Your frustration has even caused you to get upset with Niffty a few times. While on one hand it was awesome to know another demon that was of similar height, on the other hand it pissed you off at how easily she seemed to grab his attention. Though, she was also just overall more insane—it’d be hard for anybody to ignore her.

You had to admit, though, that the lack of his attention only made your intrigue in him grow exponentially. In a Hell where you were stopped on every corner of the road, in every store, Alastor stood out to you. How come, of all the demons out there, even some of the cruelest in the Pride Ring, the one demon you were actually interested in… could care less about you? Sure, the only reason you were interested in him was because of this very fact, but still! Why?

You had gotten fed up. Alastor was in the midst of, again, picking you up off of himself, when he paused holding you midair at the look of fury on your face. You saw his grin widen in a sinister manner, and his eyebrows quirk quizzically. 

“What a huge expression for a face so little,” He laughed shortly. You hated the way his laughter crackled with radio static, and how it practically mocked you.

“You. Are such. A jerk!” You cried, swinging your legs in an attempt to kick his chest. You missed by a longshot, as he held you out as far as his arms could stretch. He only continued to watch you, amused.

“Just pet me!” You cried. You immediately halted after saying that, arms frozen mid-flail. You realized instantly how weird that was to say, especially to Alastor. And he knew, too, evident in the way his eyes narrowed at you and he rushed to place you down on the floor. You struggled to maintain eye contact when he stood back up, his height being the actual physical manifestation of impending doom. His hands brushed down the sides of his coat.

“I believe it makes sense for you to be a stuffed animal,” He said matter-of-factly. “Because of how utterly childish you are.”

You couldn’t help but stomp your foot at his statement; and his grin stretched at being proved right. But, like, come on! Yeah, what you said was kind of weird as fuck, but you weren’t in the wrong or anything! It’s only natural.

His gaze shifted up and ahead of himself, and your shoulders slumped in defeat. Another failed attempt.

That was, until you felt a clawed finger touch against your head and briefly scratch at your velvety skin, right behind your ear. You looked up, shocked, towards Alastor’s unreadable expression. The touch was very brief, and he stood and walked away without another word, leaving you standing there awestruck.

You shook yourself and bounced after him, trying to call his attention again but he ignored you. You opted to just follow him around for a bit, at least until he made it obvious you should leave him alone. He had his hands folded behind his back, a tune humming in his mouth as he walked down the halls. Alastor would never admit it to you, but he did find you rather cute, in a similarly chaotic way to Niffty. You weren’t quite as unhinged, but you had an entertaining amount of spunk and confidence, which he found sort of funny—so much personality squished into one tiny body. You sort of reminded him of a stuffed animal he had when he was a boy.

[oozedninjas]

Blame the Chemicals in the Mind

Summary: Mad scientist!Donnie discovers he has developed twisted, unwanted feelings toward his best experimentation specimen.

A/N: General verses, but I placed something about each version of Donnie, let's see if you can find it! Also, I heavily kept in mind 2012verse and Bayverse for some reason? Anyway, this will have multiple parts but it can be read as a one-chapter thing too :)

Please do not spam like. Reblogs are appreciated! ♡

Warnings: NSFW / DARK CONTENT/ smut/fem!Reader/ after the kraang apocalypse/Donatello and reader are both mid to late twenties /dub-con/eventual Yandere topics/experimentation/torture/blood and violence/trauma bonding/Stockholm syndrome/blood extraction/panic attack (reader's)/twisted hurt-comfort/between-the-lines humiliation/ mentions of the use of a feeding probe/sensorial overstimulation and deprivation/ Regarding smut: humping/creampie/DUB-CON/ dead dove do not eat

This is 18+ dark content. If you click on keep reading you have agreed you want to read this content.

His ever-present gaze penetrated the tank's glass, fixating on your orbs. It was a constant company, greeting you upon waking— whether immersed in the computer's screen a few paces ahead or absorbed in a stress ball he kept in hand to stimulate his thoughts. He consistently stared, as if that alone could propel him closer to a cure for the three monstrous things that so closely resembled him. 

Donatello observed them through the fortified cells he constructed, initially intended as a security measure. He sighed deeply. The laboratory never felt as desolate as it did now, as if hopelessness swept through, resonating through his body. Gradually, despair eroded small fragments of his sanity, leaving nothing more than a faint echo of who he used to be.

He needed to find a cure soon. And so he pinched, tugged, injected, and inflicted upon your body a distinct form of torment every day. Each one an inch closer. However, despite your best judgment, you lacked the strength to keep on resenting him.

Exhausted from enduring numerous stings and side effects, your brain, perhaps as a survival mechanism, clung to words of reaffirmation. Praise. Approbation. Plaudits. They seemed to breathe sanity back into your inner self, preventing your poor state of mind from sinking deeper into the dark.

Such an exquisite test subject!

So remarkably compliant and subdued, aren't you?

I'll create an antidote, and they'll be back, and it'll be thanks to you.

You seem unwell today.

His voice was distant from under the water but he sounded somehow concerned. "Let's take the day off. You can't die just yet. Finding others like you is proving increasingly challenging."

You didn't want him to ignore you for the rest of the day. You wished he wouldn't. You could endure a slight pinch if it meant feeling something. Lately, the increasing sensory isolation was becoming more and more nerve-wracking. You must have wished too fervently, for just as he had not entirely turned away, the power abruptly ran out.

Donatello gasped. The blue light of your tank framed his face. A menace, yet fixable. The hitch: replacing the lab's battery required using the one in your tank. Both were designed with separate energies after an incident— an unfortunate electrocution during a short-circuit caused by an electric storm. Test subject 83q1q didn’t make it.

The wisest course of action was to empty the tank, replace the battery, and secure you elsewhere until he could find a new one. Your body throbbed with tickles of anxiety and anticipation upon noticing his intent.

As it drained, you descended to the bottom of it. He opened its side, causing all the tubes to tilt down. Donatello pulled them off. You inhaled as soon as he unplugged them from your throat. A coughing fit almost broke your rib cage right after a sharp, reckless gasp for air.

An overwhelming sensation hovered over you. Abruptly, everything was too much. Too much air, too rough floor, too much pressure on your skull, too loud— You can't breathe. You're choking. Your ears are beeping. Someone's screaming. You can't breathe, you can't breathe, you can’t— He's touching you. You tensed. Would he return you to the tank? Where's the needle? The last time he touched you, there was a needle, or something sharp, and it hurt. You brace yourself. 

Donatello began making even circles over your bare back.

"Deep breaths," he said. His voice sounded different. Steadier, warmer. "Follow my own, here," he pressed your hand to his plastron. His inhalations were even, soothing.

"That's right, you're doing well—maintain your focus right here."

Your view briefly smeared your palm over his chest before properly adjusting. Your head pulsed as if your skull rejected your brain. Your mind was a jumble of many things barely held together. But you’re breathing, you’re alive, nothing hurts.

"Well done. Now, tell me five things about yourself," he asked.

The piercing cold scraped your bones like long-stirred claws. Nothing hurts, not quite much.

"My name is Donatello,” he began to set an example. “I am a scientist. I aim to fix the Kraang predicament. I like purple,” he paused, realizing there was nothing more about him worth mentioning. Then, against logical reasoning, he added: “I miss my brothers.”

Squatting, embracing your naked, soaked silhouette in a failed attempt to stop shivering, you listened; forcing yourself to clutch onto his voice, scarcely discerning his words but making the effort. On the verge of giving up on obtaining an answer, Donatello motioned back. Your nails dug into his plastron just then. He tensed.

“My name is—” your voice quivered, mind spinning, searching. You told him. “Chest… hurts. Head, hurts. I’m cold.” Your weakling tone disturbed you, hoarse, broken, reduced to a raspy mutter. “I’m… alone.”

You were unexpectedly a jarring mirror he reflected in. Donatello tilted his head, musing.

"Well done. It wasn't so hard, was it?" he articulated, displacing your hand. "Now come here, you ought to wait inside the cell until the battery is efficiently substituted and operational—I still need to find another to power the tank, though.” he added between his teeth, more to himself than to you. “Anyway, be glad, you'll rest," he finished, offering you a towel.

You took it, hesitantly. Soft, cold fingers brushing with rough, calloused ones. Donatello retracted his hand upon the brief contact. For half a second, he seemed misplaced. Something shifted thereafter. As if the lab’s loneliness somehow extinguished just by having another breath residing there. As days elapsed, he worked diligently to replace the burnt pieces and connect the battery. This task, which would have taken only a few hours with all the needed resources, was now hindered by the aftermath of the world nearly ending. 

You braced yourself every time he approached your space, yet, pain never came with him. Instead, there was something, something more, something close to a kindle glimpse of a strange fascination. Donatello couldn't grasp why, but he started bringing you food instead of using the feeding probe.

“I help bring them back,” you said one fine day, after long contemplating the scattered photographs of four turtles attired in different colors, enjoying life before the apocalypse.

The sound of the welder stopped, as did the sparks that created different patterns of light around. He looked at you, understanding that it was not a reiteration of your role; it was an express wish, a genuine interest, as if you actually had a saying on the matter. It was, in a way, touching.

“Yes, you will,” he paused briefly, contemplating for the first time going slightly out of his way to give you something. But what? Perhaps something to wear? No, keeping you naked meant you wouldn't dare to set foot outside. It had to be something else, something more.

Donatello pondered for half a heartbeat before pulling the protective lenses up.  “Hey, on a scale of one to ten, how cold would you rate your cell?”

***

The day came when he finished fixing the lights. The sudden brightness forced a hiss out of you, too sharp. He adjusted it, toning it down to a level you could bare. He found an extra battery as well, which meant you would return to the tank. You would hurt again, but it’s fine; he gave you purpose. He fed and warmed you, and listened to you. He gave you gentle head pats— 

He’s good. 

He doesn’t care if he hurts you.

It’s alright. He gave you purpose. 

He doesn’t care if you cry.

He keeps you warm.

Donatello took some blood samples, followed by platelets, in between a couple more tests. You felt dizzy jumping off the chair, narrowly holding on to the edge of the table so as not to slam against the floor. The tank light loomed over you. Bit by bit, you gestured towards the two-meter cylindrical vessel, your heart rate suddenly plummeting. The dreadful prospect of sensory deprivation gnawed at your insides. Your breaths became erratic, resonating loudly in your ears, and the sensation of blood swirling in the pit of your stomach heightened. You won't feel, you won't eat, you will hurt. You can't breathe. You gasp for air. It’s alright, it’s alright-

"I was thinking..." Donatello's voice cut through the oppressive atmosphere, and you clung to the sound as if it were a lifeline. "Since you've behaved— what if I don't send you back in the tank? What if you stay here a bit longer?"

You turned, your eyes widening in astonishment. 

"Would you like that?" he asked, not facing you, an awkwardness in his demeanor, as if it were the first time in his life he had asked for company.

"Yes," you gasped.

***

You couldn't pinpoint when it happened, but it didn't matter. You lay on his lap, resting as he worked, your body bare, absorbing the warmth of the room he had carefully heated for you. You cherished the rare moments he allowed you this close to him, savoring the seconds of feeling human once again through simple acts like cuddling. It made the aching in your body subside a smidgen.

The embrace elicited subtle signs of contentment, slowly fading into gasps, later morphing into moaning. His breath hitched upon hearing them. Donatello wasn't the best at navigating feelings. But these sensations were not exactly that. They couldn’t be. No, it was more like a palpitation triggering a primal response to your scent, your warmth, and the gentle quiver in your voice.

He scoffed. Deep thought on the matter didn’t change that his cock throbbed with each breath rolling off your mouth. He tried to shake the heat of his head, but why? Why should he resist? There was no purpose for not indulging. In fact, it could be beneficial.

He let his hand travel across your back. His touch made you shudder. He puffed, a nerdy sound he hadn’t heard himself make since the first time he watched a porn video. 

“Come,” he said, tugging you to sit upright.

You raised your head from the crook on his neck to face him. “To the operating room?”

“No, just here,” he muttered.

Donatello adjusted you over the lower half of his plastron before reclining the chair back. Your nude pussy pressed upon its wetness. He groaned. Warm fingertips clung to the upper sides of his shell, seeking balance. He stroked your hair. You waited. Nothing hurt.

Donatello placed both hands over your love handles, moving you back and forth so your cunt rubbed over his needy slit. It throbbed, his hard cock soon to emerge from it. He whimpered, breath hitching when you followed his lead, hypnotized by the exquisite friction over your clit. A few more humps and it came out, pulling a deep growl from him. You looked in astonishment as it rose against your abdomen. tick, long and glistening in a creamy transparent liquid. Your inner thighs soon soaked in it. Nothing hurts, no…, in fact- it’s good. Fuck, so good. You sighed, unable to stop grinding over his newly released member, absolutely thriving in the delicious way it numbed everything into bliss. 

Donatello’s head fell backward. His mouth curved slightly at the corners in a somewhat twisted smile of enjoyment. His earnest, soft moaning mingled with yours feverishly. 

“That’s so hot— I want more, I want to be in you, I know you’re so warm inside,” his voice was desperate, drunken-like. 

In one motion, Donatello pulled you up. Your back hit the cold desk. You sensed the keyboard under your head. It hurt. You snap back, eyes open wide. He grabbed your waist. Six strong fingers kept you in place as he lined with you. You puff, suddenly tensing.

"You want it too, right? In theory, it should feel good. You're too wet for it not to, don't worry, you've been good. It won't hurt." 

The question lingered. You don't know. You don't want to hurt. Would he be angry if you forced him to stop? Could you do that? Would he put you back in the tank? You're dizzy. 

He moved the tip of his cock along your soaked cunt, focusing on your soft nub, making circles over it. Your legs opened wider in response. His voice quivered as he whimpered, yours followed. You clenched around nothing. 

"You're not saying no, are you?" he panted. "So I assume you must want to, right?" 

Your hole stretches with his size sliding in. You groan, dragging your nails over the desk. 

"Ah— it hurts! It hurts!" you blurt out. 

"Bear it. The ache isn't supposed to- last too long. It'll feel good once you get used to it. You're good, you can bear it, you ca-nm,"

His body steamed, and his mind burnt with it, slowly melting the last drops of rational thinking. "You're so tight," he thrust once, twice, and thrice. 

You reached for him, clinging to his quivering voice, his praise, his— fuck he's so deep in you. his pace knocks your breath out. It hurts. It fills you so well. It hurts. Feels hot. His moves are steady, building heat in your belly. Pain's giving out. You clench around him, sucking him deeper. 

Donatello jerked forward, mouth gaping, eyes shutting. Both forearms held him up over the desk. He was now close enough for you to embrace him, so you clamped one hand to his shell and the other to his shoulder. Both legs hugged him near. With each new thrust your clit rubbed to his plastron sending waves of volts through your veins. 

"Yes," you breathed, barely above your own moaning.

Donatello grinned, "I knew you liked it,”

“Yeah—ah, faster, harder,” you pleaded, head thrown back as he fucked you.

He granted. Making his pace even crueler. His content smile never faded. 

“Your little cunt loves this so much! I can feel you squeezing me so tight, fuck, such a good testing subject, about to be my favorite cumdump.” 

Your muscles tensed in anticipation, the heat in your core about to burst. The sound of wet skin slapping reached your ears as your toes curled. 

His breath staggered as he spoke. "Ah- I can't stop. I'm coming, fuck, yes, yes-mnn," 

The hot loads filled you all the way to your womb. You embraced him, his ragged breath right in your ear. He enjoyed it, you did good, all feels right, more, more— You came with a loud moan, sweet pulsations carried the bliss from your belly through your temples, melting you.

He stayed still for a while, holding you in his arms, absorbing the warmth from your body. You both descended from the high together. Your scent mingled with his own, and for a fleeting moment, something tingled within him—the creeping onset of a feeling. He scoffed. It meant nothing. What are feelings if not chemicals in the mind, fueling instincts? 

"Go clean yourself up," he instructed, letting off your legs. "We still have some tests for the day."

[system-to-the-madness]

Scars Like Cobwebs on Your Face - Fushiguro Megumi x Reader

Pairing: Fushiguro Megumi x Reader (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) Genre: fluff Word Count: 2 246 Warnings: SPOILER FOR UP TO CHAPTER 213, facial scars, mentions of past wounds and blood Summary: The first time, Megumi spots the scars on your face

Masterlist

It was the first warm day of spring, when Megumi noticed the fine scars on your face. The two of you were sitting outside at one of the tables underneath the blooming Sakura blossoms. The sun had gained its strength back in the last couple of days, and finally it was warm enough to sit outside. Megumi was glad he had recovered from the whole ordeal of last autumn and winter enough to spend the first real day of spring outside with you. Even though right now you were working on a project Gojō had given to the two of you.

Megumi wondered if his white-haired and cockier than ever teacher couldn’t have spared them this stupid project in the last week of their first year, especially since it had been less than a month since Megumi had woken up after the final battle in Shinjuku. But Gojō was annoying and had given them the task anyway.

The classroom felt strangely empty without Kugisaki there, but Yūji made up for it with being more energetic than ever. Much to Megumi’s surprise Yūji had even been the first one to finish his part for the group work, and since he had been sent on a small mission, this left Megumi and you to add the finishing touches. Not that Megumi was complaining about the time he got to spend with you. No, much on the contrary. He was very pleased to get some alone time with you, even though he would have preferred spending it by talking about almost anything other than homework.

A soft spring breeze was tucking at the cardigan you had wrapped around your shoulders, and absentmindedly you pulled it back into place, ignoring the strand of hair that had blown into your face and now clung to your cheek. Megumi wished he could reach over and brush it behind your ear, but his heart stuttered at the mere thought of it. Unthinkable to actually do it. But his eyes stayed glued to your face, watching as you leant closer over the paper, writing tiny signs neatly into the lines. 

The sunlight caught delicately on your lashes, making them glow, and the shadow of a few blossoms painted faint shadows on your skin. It was then that Megumi noticed the fine line that stretched from the side of your nose down to the corner of your mouth.

He blinked, surprised that he had never seen the scar before, and leant in a little closer; just a little so you wouldn’t notice while being focused on your course work. The scar was several shades lighter than your skin tone, and left and right of it, Megumi could even see the small puncture wounds where it had been stitched. His heart hurt at the thought that at one point you had been injured badly enough to having had to get stitches, especially in the face. He wondered when it had happened. During the culling game? He was fairly certain that you hadn’t had this scar last summer. He had spent enough time staring at you to know.

His eyes skipped further over your features, as if searching for any other imperfections he had not previously spotted, and stopped on another, short but equally fine line under your right eye. It was slightly discolored, barely noticeable even in the bright light of the afternoon sun, but now that Megumi really looked at you, he could just about make it out. Even though the wound had long healed, the proximity to your eyes unsettled him. How close you had been to losing your eye to whatever had caused that wound! Megumi’s eyes flickered over to your left side, almost as if to assure himself that your other eye was fine, had never been as close to losing sight as the right one.

Instead of comfort, he found another thin line under your eye, this one even closer to your lashes. And there, very faint but definitely there, were small scars on your eyelid. On your eyelid! Which god had looked out for you when you had been hurt that day, whenever that had been?

Megumi worried his bottom lip between his teeth as he kept studying the fine scars on your skin, when suddenly a thought popped into his head, that made him almost physically sick. Had he been the one who had caused these scars? Had that happened during the short battle you and Yūji had fought against Sukuna? Had Megumi’s own hands caused these scars that now spread over your face like thin cobwebs?

“You can ask, you know? I won’t be mad.”

The sound of your voice tore Megumi out of his thoughts. You glanced at him from the corner of your eyes, not turning your head to look at him. It was then, that Megumi realized just how close he had moved, his nose almost bumping your cheek. His breath caught in his throat, but instead of pulling away, he only tilted his head. The motion caused the distance between your faces to increase by a fraction, but you, instead of pulling away fully, turned your head just enough to be able to look at him better, immediately narrowing the gap again.

Megumi swallowed.

“Ask what,” he wondered, feigning innocence.

You rolled your eyes, before focusing back on him, your gaze tracking his as his eyes flickered back to the scars.

“Don’t play dumb Fushiguro. We both know you’re not.”

“I’m not sure I want to know the truth,” he answered, more honestly this time, the way your tongue darted out, wetting your lips not escaping his attention. He wondered what they tasted like.

“Just ask.”

“How did you get these-”

He didn’t finish the sentence, and instead reached up with his hand, brushing the fingertip of his index finger over the scar by your nose and then over the one underneath your left eye. Had your breath just hitched? He quickly pretended to cover the slight contact up by tucking the strand of hair out of your face where it had still clung to your cheek.

“Sukuna,” you answered, and Megumi felt his heart plummet. “He kicked me off that roof and straight through the window of an office building. I was able to catch the worst impact, but not the glass splinters.”

Megumi felt his throat close up. It had been him, who had injured him, his own hands had hurt you, caused you pain. How were you even able to stand looking at his face? He tried hard to get his breathing back in check, his hands tensing into fists involuntarily, nails digging into his palms painfully.

“Stop it,” you whispered, and Megumi wondered if you had leant even closer. Your warm breath fanned cover his skin comfortingly, your familiar scent filled his nose and calmed him down. “Stop. I know what’s going on in this head and I don’t like it.” Your warm hand came up to the side of his face, your thumb brushing over his cheeks softly, before it fell back into your lap. “I don’t like it. Not one bit. Megumi, it wasn’t you, who hurt me. And I don’t blame you.”

“But if I- if I had tried to-“

“Shut up.”

For the fraction of a second Megumi was tempted to answer with a stubborn ‘make me’ just to find out if you’d kiss him to shut him up, like in this one movie you had watched together the other weekend, you and him sitting somewhat closer than he usually would have deemed acceptable between friends. But to him you were not just a friend. And he was not ready for the feeling of disappointment that would settle in his chest if you didn’t kiss him to shut him up. But he didn’t have much more time to think about it, because after a short pause you continued talking.

“I don’t blame you. Nobody does. I’m just glad you’re back with me.”

His eyes widened slightly at your words. Not back with ‘us’, but back with ‘me’. His cheeks burnt up with a blush as you watched his reaction before you nudged your nose against his very softly as if you were scared to overstep a boundary. But you didn’t even have to move in to nudge him like this, that was how close the two of you had gravitated towards each other already.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

Your voice was only a whisper, your lips already so close to his that he could literally feel them move around the words they formed.

“Do you want me to,” he asked back equally quiet, his heart beating hard in his chest.

“I’ve wanted you to kiss me since last summer, but thanks for noticing,” you teased, making him almost laugh.

“Sorry,” he whispered, “for making you wait.”

And with that he lent in the last fraction of an inch, eyes fluttering closed, pressing his lips to yours firmly.

He could feel the shiver than ran through you, how you shifted closer to him, one hand coming to rest on his knee beside you, the other reaching up to his neck. Cool fingertips ghosted over the baby hair on his nape twirled them for a moment before wrapping more tightly into his longer strands. A strange sensation of victory settled in Megumi’s heart as he, spurred on by your touch, found the courage to reach out too, settling his hands on your waist. He struggled to understand how he got lucky enough to find himself in this position, how he deserved to sit under cherry blossoms and kiss you. It hardly seemed possible that you returned his feelings, but your lips against his, your hand in his hair, the little shivers that ran through your body every time he shifted his palms against the rigid fabric of your uniform assured him of your feelings.

There were no words needed, and when your tongue nudged against his lips almost hesitantly, there were no words left in his head anyway. All his focus was on you, the rest of the world had stopped existing, as far as he cared. Whenever he peeked out from underneath his lashes, he could see your skin, your own lashes fluttering against your cheeks, resting on these fine scars he had only noticed today for the first time.

His nose was filled with the scent of your hair, his heart beating so loud in his ears that he struggled out make out the uneven, almost shaky breaths you took as you pressed closer to him. Your lips tasted sweet, like the iced tea the two of you had shared at the vending machine before coming here, and Megumi wondered if his lips tasted the same. Underneath his palms, he could feel the shifting of your muscles, your warmth seeping through the fabric. And suddenly it was all too much. Not that he could ever get enough of you, but his senses seemed to go into overdrive, and Megumi pulled away, leaning back while gasping for breath, his eyes widened.

“Megumi,” alarmed you pulled your hands away from where they had rested on his body, and immediately he missed your touch. “What’s wrong?”

A smile tucked at his lips then, one of these rare smiles, that you once had told him you liked seeing on him so much.

“Just- overwhelmed,” he admitted, and he watched you bite your lip, almost as if you were ashamed. Gods, now he knew what your lips felt like on his, what they tasted like. He wanted to taste them again.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, sitting back properly again from where you had shifted to be closer to him.

“I’m not,” Megumi shook his head. “So you don’t be it either. I just… I’ve gotta get used to it. If you want.”

You looked up at him again, your eyes shimmering with something Megumi had seen in your expression only a few times before. He hadn’t been able to put a word to it then, but he was now: love.

“Absolutely,” you nodded, a smile growing brighter on your lips.

Megumi was pretty sure his heart was about to give out with how frantically it was beating. He had liked you almost for a whole year, practically since the day you had showed up for the first class of the school year. You had had him wrapped around your little finger from the first day on, with how clever you were, how you handled his sarcasm and shot right back, with how you took no shit, dealt with Gojō and everything else really. And now that you knew of his feelings for you, you had not turned him down. How had he gotten so lucky?

“Can I kiss you again,” Megumi asked, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

When you nodded, he brought his hand up to your chin, cupping it softly, and leant in again, placing a soft, lingering kiss to your mouth. Nothing as deep as the first one, but just enough to catch another taste of the sweetness of your lips.

“I could get used to that,” you whispered, as Megumi pulled away from the short kiss to be able to look at you, his thumb ghosting absentmindedly over the scar between your nose and your lips.

He nodded in agreement and smiled again.

“That can be arranged,” he chuckled and leant in again.

@delzinrowe @hugesimp1234

[hollybell51]

here me out. Adam Warlock and sex pollen.

It's ok - one

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Part two

Adam Warlock x AFAB!Reader

Marvel Cinematic Universe, Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 3 (outside canon)

Word count: 4.6K

Summary: foreign flora has an unexpected effect on your human physiology.

Content: sex pollen and associated DUBCON, fuck-or-die, smut, maybe very slight perviness (but I don't think it's creepy or really triggering), Adam being down bad, SMUT. Gratuitous smut. Non-explicit masturbation, handjobs (kinda), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Adam's a virgin, reader isn't, bit on angst, unresolved, there will be part 2. Maybe some out of character-ness, but it's hard cause he only had like 10 minutes screen time so what I've written is based on my own interpretation and what I've read since I watched the movie

Notes: I hear you anon! I actually haven't done sex pollen before, though I always found it kinda fun, so this was new to me. I actually wrote a part 2 which I'll post with this, and that's much of the same xx. Also sorry I haven't done anything in ages, I've been super under the weather and busy so I haven't really had time lmao. Anyways, have fun with this!

“Hey, did you get through those notes?” Your voice echoed in the stillness of the forest, seeming to bounce off the lush petals of the giant flowers towering overhead. The local flora was all supersized, bigger than anything Adam had ever seen, and filtered the harsh light of the planet’s nearest star in sickly sweet hues of pinks, greens, yellows and even blue. 

“Breathable atmosphere, mostly docile wildlife. Predators are nocturnal.”

“Ok, just… How much longer are we gonna be out here?” 

Adam turned, letting the machete you’d armed him with – “bush bashing. Gotta learn those life skills, huh?” – hang by his side. You were panting, face flushed and beaded with sweat as you planted your hands on your hips and frowned at him. Even like this, speckled with bright yellow and orange pollen and clearly uncomfortable, Adam couldn’t ignore the odd swooping sensation in his gut. It was like someone was constantly pulling a rug from under his feet. 

He checked the time displayed on the tablet. “Two hours. Maybe less. Are you ok?” 

You groaned, but nodded and walked the few paces to stand beside him. “Goddamn flower dumped its load all over me. You sure this shit is breathable?” 

The atmosphere. Right, you were joking about the humidity. “If you don’t mind a bit of a steam,” he tried, smiling at the short bark of laughter the remark conjured. 

You tapped his machete-holding hand, jerking your head towards the wall of fleshy greenery. “Nice. Let’s just get this over with.” 

Adam simply nodded. The falling feeling had been replaced by something warm and sticky, the simple touch and your laugh flowing like syrup to sit low inside him. It had been like this for a while now, since he’d started really talking to you, spending time with you, noticing things about you. Like your hair, now dusted with fiery plant spores and stuck to your forehead, and how it caught the lights of Knowhere just right when you sat down beside him to eat. Or the little wrinkles around your eyes and mouth when you smiled – really smiled. The High Evolutionary had disliked wrinkles and other physical signs of ageing, viewed them as imperfect and a blight on existence. Adam could have stared at yours all day. 

“Can I see that?” 

Again, Adam stopped and turned. You were craning at the tablet, your hand absently running around the collar of your suit. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Just… It’s really hot. Do you feel that?” 

Adam shrugged. Temperature wasn’t a huge concern to him, but you looked truly uncomfortable now. “Humidity can often make it feel hotter than it is.” 

“I know, but…” You grimaced, pulling your collar down further and wriggling your shoulders. “I feel really hot. Worse than before.” 

Adam frowned. He knew humans were often sensitive to their environment, much more so than was practical, but you seemed more affected than you should be. There were places on Earth hotter than the current reading, you’d told him that, so why were you–?

The comm on his wrist buzzed, Rocket’s voice crackling across the emergency frequency. “Warlock? You copy?” 

“Yeah,” Adam replied, still watching you. You were taking a semi-restrained drink from your flask, no doubt aware that it had to last the whole trek and back. 

“Is (Y/N) with you?” 

“Yeah, why?” As he watched, you held the back of your hand up to your forehead, then your cheek, then your neck. The suit still seemed to be bothering you. 

“Are you on the ground?” 

“Yes.” 

“You need to get out of there.” 

Adam didn’t think he was imagining the urgency in the raccoon’s voice, distorted as it was over the distance. He was in an entirely different corner of the galaxy, after all. “Why? What’s wrong?” 

A pause, then, “The flowers, they’re… uh, they’re kinda…” 

“They are very powerful aphrodisiacs!” Ah, Kraglin, just as worried-sounding as Rocket. “They can be harmful to humans!” 

Your other hand had joined the first on your face, but it didn’t seem to be doing a lot. You’d managed to get the zipper on your suit down, the neck pulled down to expose your shoulders and collar bones, the skin there just as flushed as your face. 

“What?” 

Rocket groaned, but Kraglin either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Aphrodisiacs,” he repeated. “If she breathes the pollen her body temperature will rise until she develops a fever, and if she doesn’t have sex she could die.” 

His entire (relatively short) life, Adam’s mother – and pretty much everyone else – had been more than generous in pointing out that he was lacking, that he was slower than he should be, that he was not up to the same speed as they were. It was because he’d left the cocoon early, he knew that, but he’d never really felt that much slower. Maybe a little, but he’d always understood where he’d gone wrong and why. This was totally different. For the first time, Adam felt like he was lagging behind. 

“What?” he asked again. “What do you mean if she doesn’t have sex she’ll die?” 

“Makes ya horny, genius. Means what exactly that. Fuck or die.” Rocket took over, clearing his throat. “I’m reading off the notes, bit further down. It’s small, so you might have missed it. It says it works normal for most species, but humans are more fragile so…” 

Yes, that made sense. Adam couldn’t remember that in what he’d read, but he’d also been distracted by your legs slung across his and the little wrinkle that had appeared between your brows as you’d carefully packed your bag, sliding everything perfectly into place. He’d wanted to just reach across and run his thumb over the line, smooth it away forever. 

Now, that same bag thudded as it hit the ground and you frantically fanned yourself, eyes closed. There was no telling if you’d heard the conversation, but Adam didn’t want to waste time finding out. 

“Ok, I’ll, uh, get her back to the ship.” 

“She ok?” 

He paused for a moment, then settled on, “yeah, she’ll be fine.” 

“You got this, golden boy.” The radio crackled and fell silent, and that was that. What a great help. 

“(Y/N)?” he ventured, picking up your pack. “Did you get all that?” 

You nodded, wriggling to get the zipper further undone. Your back was beaded with sweat, and in any other circumstance, maybe Adam would have let himself dwell more on the soft contours of your spine, the roll of your shoulder blades, the harsh line of your bra strap in contrast to your smooth skin. 

“I’m really… It’s so hot, holy shit. Why’s it gotta be so hot?” 

“I think that’s the fever bit. Come on, we should get back.” 

You drew a sharp breath when his hand met your back, your whole body tensing. 

Adam withdrew at light speed. “Sorry, I didn’t–” 

“No,” you cut him off, “no, it’s fine. I’m fine.” 

“Ok.” 

It couldn’t have been more than half an hour since you’d set out, but it felt like a long time to get back. You were slower, for one, stumbling and muttering apologies whenever you became disorientated – which was often – and wriggling like your clothes were full of insects. Your breath came heavy, your skin becoming more and more flushed as you drew closer to the ship, and you looked so uncomfortable it made something twist inside Adam. 

“I heard it,” you panted, stepping clumsily over a root. “What Kraglin said.” 

“Oh,” was all Adam could think of. 

“You don’t— You shouldn’t— You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

“Hey, no, it’s ok. You’ll be ok.” 

“I’m– fuck, Adam.” 

“You’ll be ok, (Y/N). We can sort this out.” 

“I don’t wanna force you to do anything–” 

How cruel could the Universe be? Adam wondered as he patted your shoulder – then regretted it when you stumbled. You were the first person he’d really wanted anything with, the first person he’d thought about and imagined and, dare he say it, fantasised about, and now you were worried you were going to somehow hurt him or make him do something he didn’t want to. It was sweet, bitterly so, and ironic enough to feel like a punch in the stomach. If anyone should be worried, it should be him. After all, how were you ever going to look at him the same way after this? How was he going to look at himself the same way?

“I’m so…” You broke off as you emerged into the clearing where the ship was parked, a sob – relief or something else, Adam couldn’t tell – torn from you. 

Your legs were shaking now, your skin so hot Adam could feel it through the material of your suit. He helped you quickly aboard, avoiding your eyes as you peeled the suit from your shoulders and pushed yourself against the cool wall. The pollen still lay over your hair and clothes, insultingly cheerful and innocent. 

He sighed. “We should get rid of that.” 

“Huh?” 

“The suit. It’s got pollen all over it.” 

“Oh, right.” You said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, peeling the material from your body without a second thought. Well. Adam hadn’t expected that. Trying not to watch as you sunk down to the floor, he shoved the offending clothing into the disposal to be dealt with later. 

“You should probably take a shower. There’s pollen in your hair and… on you.” 

You nodded, legs pressed firmly together, arms spread over the cool surface at your back. “Yeah, sure, I… Can you… Fuck, Adam, I’m sorry I—” 

“It’s ok, (Y/N), don’t worry.” It felt like a ridiculous thing to say, but seemed to help a little. “What do you need me to do?” 

“I need…” You trailed off in a low whimper, your legs shaking now. You didn’t even seem to notice you were in nothing but your underwear. “I…” 

Again, that twisting feeling. “Do you want me to come with you?” 

“Yes.” The word fell from your lips with a relieved sigh, your head tipping back. 

So Adam went with you, helping you into the tiny decontamination spray shower, trying to avoid touching you as much as possible – not for lack of trying on your part. You seemed to gravitate towards him, pressing your body into his hands wherever they lay, leaning hard against him. Your breath was still laboured, your face still pink, but it seemed less painful now that you had direction and were free of the suit. You’d stopped wriggling, anyway. 

You sighed as you sank down to the floor, your fingers vice-like around Adam’s. His free hand found the taps easily, turning on a cool jet and directing it to the pollen in your hair. It flowed down your neck and shoulders, an orange river spiralling into the drain. 

“I’m sorry,” you said for what must have been the millionth time, your own free hand pressed between your legs, tension radiating from every line of your body. “I’m so sorry, Adam.” 

“Hey, no, don’t be. It’s going to be ok.” He crouched, ignoring the water as he reached across to lay a hand on your forehead. You practically whined at the contact, your fingers tangling even harder with his, skin hot despite the cold water. 

“(Y/N)?” he said softly. 

“Hm? 

“Rocket, uh… Rocket said the pollen’s an aphrodisiac.” 

“Yeah, I – fuck – I know. Trust me.” 

“He said it works, um, strongly on humans.” Adam paused, heart pounding. Why did it have to be you, of all people? And why him? “If you don’t,” he continued, “you know… The fever might get high enough to kill you.”

“Oh fuck, come on!” Water sprayed where your foot slapped the shower floor, your voice echoing. 

Adam had never felt worse about anything. “I’m sorry, I should have checked the notes first, I didn’t even consider–” 

You didn’t seem to care. “So now I’m gonna overheat and die?” 

“Unless you have sex. With someone.”

Your head thudded on the wall, a sob flopping wetly from your throat. “Fuck this. Does it have to be with someone? Will it work if I just… do it myself?” 

“Uh, actually, I don’t know. Maybe.” He paused, unsure, then, “Do you want to try?” 

“Yeah, yeah I—” You took a shuddering breath, blinking through the water dripping over your face. “Yeah.” 

Adam nodded, standing. “I’ll… I’ll be around. If you need anything.” 

“Thanks.” It was barely a whisper, so wretched it made his heart hurt. You released his hand, and he turned quickly to leave you alone, your relieved moan following him out the door. Adam didn’t like this, not at all. You weren’t quiet, though he supposed that wasn’t your fault, and he hated, really hated the heat your moans and gasped curses sparked in him. It was wrong, so wrong, and he should not be here. But he couldn’t leave you. 

“Fuck, fuck oh my God–” you cried eventually, a wet thud echoing through the wall. “Oh my– fuck fucking fuck!” 

Adam listened carefully, unsure whether or not he should…

“Adam?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t…” You broke off in a sob, genuine fear lacing your voice. “Fuck.” 

“(Y/N)?” He stepped back into the shower, pausing only for a moment to take in the mess that was you. Your hand was still between your legs, thighs spread wide, panties crumpled in a wet bundle in the corner and your bra pulled halfway down your torso. In any other situation, it would have been the hottest thing Adam had ever seen. 

“I can’t… It didn’t work, I’m still so hot, why am I so goddamn hot?” 

Adam cursed as he crouched beside you, taking your free hand only a little gingerly. He cursed fate and circumstance, himself for not reading the notes properly, Rocket and Kraglin for not miraculously having a cure, and you for still looking so fucking beautiful while you were quite literally dying. He swore that if – when – he and you got out of this, he was going to burn that whole jungle. 

“We’ll fix this,” he assured you, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. 

You sighed at the contact, shifting closer. 

He frowned. “Is that…?” 

“Feels better when you touch me,” you murmured. 

That was going to haunt his dreams, he just knew it. This whole ordeal was going to haunt him, and probably not in the way it should have. He already knew he’d be seeing your shoulders silky with the water, your back slicked with sweat and the smooth curve of your thigh for months, let alone everything else. Wrong wrong wrong wrong, he reminded himself. 

“Do you…” He stopped. It was absurd. It was wrong. It was not something he’d ever live down. 

Your eyes were open, overly bright and dark with want, searching his face like he held all the answers. You were still so flushed, hair plastered to your forehead and dark with the water, lips parted and so, so pink. 

“Do you want to have sex with me?” 

“Yes.” The syllable was torn from you, ragged and desperate, followed quickly by another sob. You shook your head. “I don’t want to pressure you, don’t wanna make you do something you don’t want to.” 

He could have laughed. How were you still so focussed on that of all things? It brought that syrupy feeling back, only now it was darker, hotter, and tinged with guilt. 

“It’s ok,” he said softly. “(Y/N), it’s ok. Don’t worry.” He carefully moved his hand to your face, pushing the wet hair off your forehead. 

You leaned into it as you had before, your eyes closed. “Then yeah, I… Fuck, Adam, I want you so bad. You have no idea how much I want you.” 

It wasn’t you. Not really. He did his best to ignore the spread of the tingling warmth, his own want, as he helped you to your feet and did his best to dry you – again, as gently as he could. You just let him, casting your bra away when he paused at it, still struggling to stand and trying your best to get as close to him as you could.

Vaguely, Adam wondered how the hell this would actually work. He hadn’t had a lot of experience with much of anything before he met you and the other Guardians, let alone sex, and he had no idea if you had either. He somehow doubted you were in the same position as he was – you were gorgeous, after all, and so friendly it was a wonder he hadn’t ended up head over heels for you sooner. 

He really wished this wasn’t happening. He wished you really did want him, that he’d worked up the guts to ask Quill about Gamora and how that had gone before he’d taken off, then told you about his feelings properly. If he’d gotten that far, he was sure you’d have shown him how it went with the same patience and care you’d shown him everything, and he’d have liked to have taken his time. He’d have liked to kiss you, touch your pretty hands and hold you close, feel you all over and let you take the lead, tell you about the things he thought about you and everything you did to him. 

But it was happening, and you were probably not going to want to talk to him after it had run its course. At least you’d be alive.

You’d stumbled to a bed – one of the standard fold-out ones – beside him, and now he sat you down on its edge. You hadn’t released your hold, pulling him down with you, hands flying straight to the fastening of his own damn suit. 

“Is this ok?” you breathed, practically vibrating with anticipation. Your hands were flitting everywhere; his hair, his neck, along his jaw, his face, his own hands. You were very clearly trying very hard to make yourself slow down, wait, and Adam’s heart melted. 

“Yeah,” he said, “it’s all ok. You do what you need to.” 

A sigh of relief, a soft “thank you,” and then you were clambering into his lap and peeling his clothes off like it was nothing, your lips hot and hard against his. Adam hadn’t kissed anyone before, but he’d seen enough movies – most of them with you – to know that this wasn’t how it usually went. There was little technique or rhythm, more your tongue licking into his mouth, teeth occasionally knocking against his, so forceful he wondered if it was hurting you. 

You’d completely stripped him remarkably fast, and now your hands explored his shoulders and arms, trailing goosebumps down his chest and stomach. You fit perfectly over him, and he allowed himself to run his own hands up your back, down again, over your hips, finally settling in the curve of your waist. How often had he wondered what it would be like to hold you there? 

You moaned, the heat at your centre slick and wet against his own rapidly hardening dick. And now you were moving, too, grinding against him like your life depended on it and why had nobody told Adam it could feel like this? 

You’d broken the kiss, your lips swollen and even redder than they’d been before, your hands now in his hair, fingers tugging ever so gently. Adam had to stifle his own little sound of pleasure, bending his head to kiss at your neck and those collar bones he could look at forever. You gasped a “yes” when his tongue darted out to taste the skin, the faint tang of sweat mingling with the sweetness of the water that had dripped there from your still-damp hair. 

Your fingers tightened in his own hair, the delicious pull sending more heat straight down. You directed his head in that direction, too, arching your back until his mouth found the soft mound of your breast and he licked, then on a whim, sucked. 

“Oh, yes, Adam–” you panted, your movements becoming even more frantic. 

“Hm?” 

“Oh, that’s– that’s so good.” 

Did you know what you were doing to him? Adam supposed you didn’t, sucking again at a different spot, licking it, placing a kiss there, moving on. Rinse and repeat. 

Then your hands disappeared from his hair – that was a shame, but this wasn’t about him – and the next moment your fingers were wrapped around his cock and you were stroking it better than he ever had, your palm a million times softer than his, sliding easily with your own slick. 

“Can I?” you were asking. “Please, Adam, can I?” 

You could do whatever you wanted, Adam didn’t care. If he’d thought about it, he’d have realised that he actually liked the idea of you having your way with him, using him for your own pleasure, taking what you needed from him. But he didn’t think about it, he was too caught up in the smell and taste of your skin, the little sounds you were making, the wonderful movement of your hand. 

“Yes,” he breathed, “yes, go ahead, (Y/N). Please, just– just go ahead.” 

You were moving, rising on those wonderful thighs and your hand was moving too, something hot and slick rubbing over the head of his dick and then holy shit Adam’s mind went blank. If he’d thought you felt hot before, it was nothing compared to this. He groaned in unison with you as you sank down, taking him fully and gripping his shoulders, your breath fanning his face. You fit perfectly around him, squeezing spongy and smooth, and nothing could have prepared him for it. 

You braced yourself on his shoulders, rising off him – for a second he wondered if that was it, if you were pulling away – before you sank back down. You did it again, then again, and again and again until the only sounds in the room were your breaths mingling with his, your unrestrained little moans and his own half-stifled ones, the slap of your skin on his. 

Adam held you close, hands still anchored to your waist, transfixed by the silken heat of you and the brush of your chest against his, the bounce of your breasts and solidity of your body on top of his. 

“Feels so fucking good,” you panted. “No idea, so fucking – shit – good–”

“(Y/N),” he choked, unable to form a single coherent thought. 

“You’re so good, Adam oh my God.” 

Something was building in his stomach, he could feel it. The warm syrupiness was gone, something hotter and harder and so tight coiling in its place, growing with each moan and sigh and whispered curse from you. It was so much, almost too much, and half of his brain wanted you to stop right there. But the other half, the half that created those late-night daydreams, real dreams, half-formed ideas and scenes in his mind… That half wanted you to go harder, slam your hips down faster and say it again, tell him he felt good, he was doing well. 

“Making me feel so fucking good,” you murmured, as if you’d read his mind. “You’re so… ah, fuck, Adam, I’m so close–” 

Close to what? he wondered vaguely, but the praise was spinning that coil faster, faster, tighter and faster until– 

“Adam, oh, Adam—!” 

It snapped, electric and white hot and rolling up his spine like a damn shockwave. He could hear you crying his name, your movements slowing and your body spasming around his. He’d cum before, of course he had, but never like this. That had been small and so quick he hadn’t even realised what was happening until he was spilling into his hand or the bedsheets, confined to his dick, never spreading through his whole body and never with that glorious buildup. This was something else entirely. 

After what felt like an age, Adam’s mind returned to his body. You were shaking, collapsed against his chest, your arms wrapped around his shoulders and his around your waist, your face pressed into his hair, his own nestled in the junction of your neck and shoulder. You fit so perfectly against him. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice husky even to his own ears. 

You didn’t lift your head, but he felt you nod. 

“Are you sure? You’re shaking.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’m fine. I feel better, actually. How about you?” 

Adam just nodded, unwilling to move. He could feel himself softening inside you, but didn’t want to lose the warmth and the feeling that he was yours, that he was fully with you. But… “Do you want me to stay?” 

No response, then a deep sigh. “Yes,” you whispered. 

Adam ignored the butterflies and the spark of hope that conjured, opting instead for practicality. He could feel the rapidly cooling sweat on his own back, the coldness of your damp hair, the mess of spend around the place where your body swallowed his. 

“I’m going to clean you up,” he said softly, “then I’ll come back. Alright?” 

“Ok.” 

Slowly, reluctantly, he lifted you off himself and set you down further back on the bed. You whined at the loss of contact, curling in on yourself and shivering. But you weren’t so hot anymore, the flush had been replaced by what he could only describe as a glow and the overly bright look had vanished from your eyes. You really did look better. 

After a moment’s hesitation, Adam rose and turned away, making for the cabinet where the medpacks and other supplies were kept. You wanted him to stay. You’d told him he felt good. You’d held him afterwards, let him hold you, and had made no move to make him leave. If anything, you’d looked disappointed when he’d broken the contact. But still, you weren’t yourself. 

He paused, a horrible thought crossing his mind. Was he going to end up like Quill? Hopelessly chasing a woman who didn’t feel the same way about him? He hoped not, he’d seen how miserable the man was. But you weren’t hard the way Gamora was -- as much as Adam knew her, anyway, which wasn't much. You were soft and open, and you did care about him, he was sure of it. At least you had. 

Shaking his head, Adam returned to the room with a damp cloth in hand. 

“(Y/N)?” he asked softly, pausing at the door. No answer. 

You were where he’d left you, he saw as he stepped around it, still curled up on your side. Your eyes were closed, the rise and fall of your ribs deep and even. Asleep. The surge of tenderness surprised him, strong enough that he was sure he’d been swamped by an actual wave. You really were beautiful, even damp and naked, lips swollen and hair mussed. 

He was careful not to wake you as he brushed the hair off your face, wiped away the worst of the mess, and then pulled a blanket over you. He wondered briefly if he should stay with you, slide down beside you and wrap his arms around your waist, warm you with his body heat and be there to tell you it was all alright when you woke up. 

You shifted, heaving a deep breath and adjusting your position minutely, and that decided it. Adam couldn’t disturb you, as much as he wanted to, and there was still your suit and discarded underwear, not to mention the original task. On an impulse, he bent and placed a soft kiss on your forehead before turning, scooping his own clothes off the floor and making for the shower. 

[opal-owl-flight]

Can you please tell us more about Neo4. What's their background.

“I need your help.”

Thing is -- I dont exactly own that character! Hes owned by @pastille-pain ... I asked them abt his deets, so here it is under the readmore!

His recruitment by 3 is also under the readmore :) (+more notes abt pre-sploon3)

(From my pal)

My Precious Soy Sauz

Aka croissant

Where he comes from is inkopolis

Lived there his whole life actually. A very sheltered kid due to being raised by grandparents that were in Octaria at one point. So they wanted to make sure nothing really happened to him

An only child but he had his cousin (Nakji, Takoyaki) of the three, he'd be the middle child with Nakji and the youngest.

He's got two friends (three if we count malachite -- the smallfrt) outside of the platoon. Dulce, and (unfortunately) Scara

He dating Melon (oc of mine), we know this

Kinda funny it started as her just battling with him cause he was good but then it turned something more

His time before the platoon was mostly

"Hey are you related to that Sauz idol?" Or "hey, you related to that Sauz wrestler?" It got annoying very quickly so he started introducing himself as croissant and nothing else

Aside from that, if he wasn't turfing he was at home reading or watching shows. Guys a very boring person

He's a pretty big OTH fan...

All this above is still the same even while being apart of the platoon minus the constant questions about his relatives and adding college into the mix

He can do some really cool shit when he's focused (like absolutely demolish competition in turf) but he's also easily distracted so I think you can imagine how that goes

His stress relief is shopping (mostly window shopping, very rarely does he actually buy anything)

He never gets too mad but we know the face if he does

Fun fact, you will never catch this man in pants

Short and anything else

Not pants

The only time he's ever seen wearing pants is in his agent gear and that's cause it's what was given to him.

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

Heres a bonus too, of 3s recruitment of him!

It was a turfing match, and theyve been watching the krak-on user the whole round. They took note of how he responded to stress, to bad calls, and how he acted on his own following calls he had judged as bad. Once it was over, they followed the team into the lobby.

They stand tall against the doorframe theyre leaning against, presence as cold and as commanding as ever.

(Nevermind that Croissant is taller AND older than them, that squid is intimidating as FUCK)

A whistle, calling the team over.

"|May I have a word?|" they sign, "|Ive been watching your team turf for the last few rounds.|"

Scara, the team captain, spits a "Who the FUCK are you."

3s eyebrows raise in surprise. But they should expect it... casual turfers dont usually know their name.

They went to the smaller leagues for a reason. If something happened to a big name in the scene, and its found that they had something to do with it-

No. No. They mentally shake their head. They are NOT picking this person because they are going to be fucking canon fodder.

"|Who I am is not important. Not much, anyway.

I am... interested in one of your teammates.|"

a nod towards Croissant. "|As a krak-on user myself, his performance has impressed me.|"

"Has he now. You seen our losses?? Are you making fun of us??"

"|He has great potential.|" they sign, ignoring the outburst. "|I would like to...|" theres a slight pause. "|...train with him.|"

"I can train my team perfectly, all by myself. Get lost."

They give a cold stare back. "|Im sure that has worked very well for you thus far.|"

The captain didnt seem to want to back down. 3 continues, ear twitching.

"|This request was not aimed towards you, anyway. Im asking him.|"

"BUT-"

"|I want to hear HIS answer.|"

A test. 3 saw that Scara was pushing him around and the only reason they won the match was bc Croissant decided to go his own way. Will he go his own way now?

"Well I know he'll choose to stick with me-"

"Oh I'd love to train with you I like helping others :D"

"You weren't supposed to say that."

3 nods. "|It begins now. Come. We have much to discuss. And as for you.|"

They clack their beak. "|Captain to captain. You need to listen to your teammates more.|"

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

Once they are in a more private space...

"|Training is only one part of the deal.

I apologize for not being upfront. This is a matter of national security, and I cannot mention much about it beyond base.|"

I suppose Croissant hasnt heard...or at least, isnt into much of the so-called Hero of Inkadia thats plastered everywhere in Inkopolis? If he was, hed at least start thinking of all that being like... "wait all that media was based on something real???"

(3 mentioning national security and a base may also inspire thoughts of "wow this squid's a fucking nerd...")

"|You are free to reject my request if you feel unfit for the task at hand. But where are my manners? I have yet to formally introduce myself.

Topside, I am known as FOR3VRFRSH. Here, I am the Captain of the New Squidbeak Splatoon.

I suppose youve heard of such a force...? No?|

Mm.

|Just know that we keep Inkadia more or less safe from nation-destroying threats.|"

He accepts the offer... but he also wasn't thinking too hard on it cause he saw an opportunity to step away from Scara and took it immediately.

3 nods, beckoning him towards the sewer line. As they walked backwards into base, they signed to him. "|From this point onwards, you will be referred to as Agent...Four.|"

Theres a very slight waver of their hand as they signed the number.

"|You show much promise, from what Ive observed in turf. Dont disappoint me.|"

"The only person I disappoint is that guy, but he's just very critical-"*

Theres a glint in 3s eye, a look of amusement... "|...Overly critical is putting it lightly.|"

"I promise to do my best still."

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

3 introduces him as the new Agent 4 and I feel Marie just scrunches her nose a bit. Then sees the look in 3s eye...

To the folks from the regions around 3s home (Callie, Marie, Cuttlefish), theyre not subtle about missing her.

[chirpthingz]

EVERYBODY WAKE UP!! Cellbit revealed a bit on how knowledge is described to change people in the supplement (I apologize for mistranslations, I am short of time atm and also Thrilled to read this):

At 60% NEX: Your view of reality is altered. In the details, you see the sigils, patterns and codes that form the natural laws of everything. As a consequence, the distortions of reality caused by entities on the Other side become even clearer. The pupils of your eyes become whiter as a result of seeing more and more through Knowledge, and not through your own eyes. You begin to see paranormal auras, as if you were permanently under the basic effect of the Third Eye ritual. however, seeing through Knowledge distorts your perception of what forms Reality; you become permanently obfuscated (<- i have no idea what that word means, something like to be made unclear/obscure?).

At 75% NEX: Your eyes reflect the light like details engraved in gold. You see the rules. The currents of Reality. Everything is predetermined and has never been so obvious. In fact, it's pathetic not to be able to see this, how inferior and humiliating must it be to live like a chained insect without understanding what awaits you ahead? Wait, are those thoughts even yours? The paranormal sharpens your perception even more, at the expense of your vision. You begin to perceive dangers as if you were permanently under the basic effect of the Threat Detection ritual. However, trying to see reality in its basic form seems increasingly tiring, your penalaties for the condition obfuscated increase to -2D.

At 90% NEX: Yours eyes shine gold. Observing reality is no longer meaningful to you, it is nothing more than a memory. It's ignominious to know that you didn't even consider this something important. The degrading life of the vassals of the chains, being dragged by Fear, is not something that should interest you anymore. You are not like them. They do not know. You became blind so you could see. The light of reality begins to attack your eyes. When you are not in darkness, instead of being obfuscated you become blind. However, your perception of the Other Side strengthens; you can cast the Scry ritual. You don't need a surface reflection to conjure the ritual; the target's information forms in your head.

(Note: cellbit also mentioned this is how a majority (all?) of the Escriptas are affected by this. Most likely not to a large extent though, because I doubt many of them reached 75%).

-----

Ok done, thoughts time. I'M SO HAPPY THIS IS EVERYTHING I COULD HAVE HOPED FOR WHEN IT CAME TO THE INTERPRETATION ON HOW AFFINITIES AFFECT PEOPLE. I love how as you get closer to knowledge you almost disconnect from those around you, feeling like their "ignorance" makes them unworth of someone's time. Also?? Hello?? The going blind to be able to see through knowledge (which then distorts your perception because you naturally see more of the paranormal than reality) is so fucking cool. Anyways, I wonder if this could also be an insight on how the Magistrate, idk, perceives people/reality?

Also- omg I cannot wait to see Bagi interpreting this for Carina. I NEED IT.

[pauking5]

Runaway 🏎️ Chapter 1

Pairing: Naozumi Hiyama x fem reader oc

Synopsis: There's no place for women in the world of racing. Let alone rally. Until you show up - the daughter of a racing legend who lost everything out of nowhere - ready to stir the pot of competition and throw fuel to Naozumi's fire, burning wild in more than just one way. Just how far will you go to take your rightful place in the world of rally, restore the team to its glory and change things for the better?

Genre: racing AU, enemies to lovers, rivalry, suspense, a whole lot of teasing, gender power games, dating in secret

Word count: 4.5k+

A/N: Here it finally is. I can't believe I got to write about one of my passions in this way. Though I love rally, getting the technicalities right was rough but I researched as much as I could on it so it feels like the real thing, though there might be some minor inaccuracies, not really affecting the story.

This one has been in the works for a good period of time and though this first chapter is short and fast-paced, there's so much more coming. Trust the process cause god knows I do. I hope I can make Naozumi justice and I can't wait for you to read the next ones. Enjoy lovelies.

Now Playing: Edge of Seventeen - Wuki

Next Chapter 3 Chapter 4

It's not about how fast you go.

It's about how long you go fast.

Fast like-

A knock reverberated against your helmet, interrupting the pre-race mantra before you even finished reciting it, bringing you back to the chaos prior to the race start.

Chaos you wanted to avoid at all costs.

Blinking your eyes open, you took in the smell of burnt rubber and the atmosphere, fully packed with the deafening roars of the crowds in the stands soaring over the music heard all the way to your station. Another voice joined in the noise, demanding your attention.

"Raiko, are you ready?"

Letting out an exasperated breath, you waved off whoever spoke to you and closed your eyes again.

"Give me a minute, will you?"

Okay, where was I?

It's not about how fast you go-

A drilling noise came from your right, annoying the living daylights out of you.

Ah, fuck it. Since we keep getting interrupted...

How about I tell you a little bit about me.

Name's Raiko Suruki.

Yes, that Suruki. Here we go again.

I'm the daughter of the famed Hiro Suruki, five times Japan World Rally Championship winner, consecutively if I may add.

Proud podium sitter for thousands of times.

Also kind of a living legend of the primetime of the rally world.

The same Hiro Suruki that started one of the best teams in the history of Japanese rally, snatching six more titles under his directory. WRC'S Golden Boy.

After his personal fifth title, he decided he wanted something more. Something that would fulfill him, beside his love for driving at the most insane speeds known to man and having his first and only child - that's me, in case you didn't know.

Anyway, without any second thoughts or doubts, he retired from the sport out of nowhere, changing the fireproofs for the laid-back team principal shirt and a cheap very 'dad' baseball cap. At barely 35 years of age, he took the biggest leap of faith of his life and Suruki Racing was born out of fuel and passion for rally.

He poured everything he had into the team and built it from scratch, taking it so high in his prime that everyone wanted a piece of it. Be it driving in a seat for the team, changing parts as a mechanic or simply having shares in it.

It was basically the shit. The pinnacle of rally in the whole of Japan.

The team became a national sensation. So many influential people, from mere businessmen to politicians, even foreigners were so interested in it and helping it expand. It genuinely felt like the only way for him was up, flying like a rocket towards the legends' hall of fame.

It went like that for a while. He was beaming with happiness, unable to understand where all that luck came from. But like everything good, it didn't last. Once he started to question it all, it was like a switch flipped inwards and it all fell to ruins.

Everything started going wrong.

All of a sudden, the cars started missing parts the night before races. They had engine failures mid-race in almost every stage, followed by DNF's on every scoreboard.

And those aren't even the most shocking things that happened. You name the disaster and it definitely happened to Suruki Racing at one point. Disastrous, life-changing, career-ending type of things.

The mess piled up more and more and it showed despite dad's efforts to stay afloat.

Contract deals with sponsors started falling through, losing funding for a lot of parts and investments in equipment. Then the drivers got fed up with the constant failed races and blamed the car or the team if they felt like it. They terminated their contracts way before their terms were up under the pretense that they wanted different things... which were not related to Suruki Racing. The mechanics chose to stay, well, a few of them anyways, but it wasn't enough.

The team ripped at the seams and slowly but surely ran into the ground and dad couldn't find at least one reason why it happened.

It was like a curse you couldn't get rid of and I saw it happen first-hand.

The late nights he would spend in the garage trying new parts that kept failing with every test on the car. The way he would go as low as begging the drivers to come back offering them money he didn't have because no driver, rookie or experienced, didn't even bat an eye once the name of the team was mentioned.

Lost, penniless and with a heavy heart, he had to watch the one thing he loved the most on earth rust little by little, no matter what he would do to prevent it.

Mom called it karma for his reckless racing days because as talented as he was, the road forgives no one. That you can be God's favourite and still lose everything. And he didn't want to understand that. He never did.

I was too young to help back then. Too young to understand what Suruki Racing meant to him. Too young to do the only thing I could to save it.

Until now.

So, let's try that again, shall we?

Name's Rai Suruki, driver for Suruki Racing 2.0.

Another knock to your helmet, echoing in your head louder than the first, brought you back to the real world for good this time. Mechanics rushed around you to finish the set up on the car before you were called up to take your spot in front of the race marshal, which from a quick glance at the scoreboard would be soon.

Looking to your left, you were met with a set of dull brown eyes, messy jet black hair, a funky moustache and an extremely creased forehead for his middle age, all belonging to your co-driver, Don Tanaka. He's another legend of the sport.

Former training coach for some of the current biggest teams in the WRC, with a CV of experiences surpassing most people that have been in rally for longer. On top of all that, he is an even bigger friend of your father's. When he called him up asking for an old favour to train you, he couldn't say no.

But if it was up to commenting, you'd say he was one of the biggest fools for giving up a lavish salary with so many perks for one favour, especially for your old fart of a father.

Driving with him was great, but training with him was hell on Earth.

"I was doing my mantra," you reasoned, trying to get him off your case.

"Your mantra sucks."

He is an absolute joy to be around, isn't he?

"Well," you turned to him in your seat with a tight-lipped smile, "you're the one choosing to be co-driver to a young adult at your ripe age of 40. If I was you I would've picked something more calming, like gardening."

Bringing his hand to his chin in thinking, he sat in silence for a moment before he spoke.

"That doesn't sound so bad right now," he went on trying to push your buttons.

"Oh, shush," you waved him off, turning back to the wheel.

If there was one thing he liked doing, it was keeping you in check by poking fun at you. He was like that one uncle you could always go to with your secrets or to ask for extra pocket money, but in return he liked to tease the fuck out of you for it. Every. Single. Time.

As much as you hated his antics, you did kind of owe him a lot. He was the one who caught your talent for racing early on, back when you would drive plastic mini cars made from scraps around the team garage like you had years of experience. A few drifting maneuvers around old tires done like a pro at the cool age of 8, and he was sold on you and your potential.

Amongst all the teasing and the pain of having to train like a man, you've spent enough time with him to know you could count on him for literally anything. He was the best co-driver you could ask for and you wouldn't want anyone else in that seat directing your fate for the world.

He knew what it took to annoy you greatly in order to deliver on the dirt track and prove yourself. Especially now, since you were the only woman on highly occupied male territory.

Racing is a man's world. With as many female advancements in motorsport as there were today, the majority of the community was still not convinced that a woman could drive better than a man or even compete alongside a whole grid of their species. They can regard you, acknowledge your existence, but they would never accept you.

Your father knew your entry to the championship would stir up a lot of unwanted attention, besides the fact that he was basically reviving a cursed team and you happened to be the poster face for it this time around. It sounded like a catastrophe in the making.

Frankly, you were ecstatic to get to drive an actual race car outside of the junior series and helping the team get back to its rightful place, restoring its deserved glory. But you knew it wasn't going to be easy work. Especially, since public enemy number one - the press - was going to try and tear you to sparkly shreds for a lot of reasons. An attack that they started before any official information was out.

A few months ago, when the announcement of Suruki Racing's comeback after ten years of inactivity hit the WRC, the media had a field day with it.

They criticized your father for being a nutjob that didn't know when to quit. They smeared Don Tanaka's name like he didn't make most of the drivers currently selling their dying papers. They even tried to get paid scoops from anyone involved with the team in the slightest.

But the team had one wildcard left to play before pulling the curtains for good and giving them the satisfaction that they ruined it.

You.

The press didn't know about you. No one in the other teams knew about you. Thanks to your father's extremely private life, no one even knew of your existence.

The only people that did were your team in the garage, from the mechanics to your PR agent.

Even walking into the circuit grounds this morning, long hair down over your shoulders, sporting the team gear in plain sight, no one batted an eye at you. Even if they did, they would think you were involved with technical or marketing - though even that was a rarity in this universe - or worse, just another groupie looking to get one of the drivers under your hood.

Your father wanted to give everyone a show they'll never forget by having you drive the first race in the calendar without a proper introduction. No car reveal. No interviews. No pre-race press conference. Just a car and its driver.

This way they would judge your driving before they actually got to judge you for being a woman at the wheel of a three hundred horsepower beast. He trusted you and your judgement on the track far more than the lousy press setting you up for fail. They would get a proper car show and speech after the race anyway.

It was out of the ordinary but that kinda summed up Hiro Suruki and his bipolar personality.

The distorted sound of a megaphone, followed by the voice of the race marshal called you to the start line.

"Car 7, Rai Suruki for Suruki Racing, you're up next!"

You could already see everyone turning their eyes to your station, booming cheers going quiet, turning into sharp murmurs.

Time to get this show going.

Rolling up your windows to block the world, you put the car in gear and drove to the start line, waiting for the green light. Looking out at the lines in the road ahead of you spotting the first hazard ahead, the nerves climbed up your spine faster than your engine could pump the pistons for pressure.

You prepared for this for most of your life, but if you were being honest, it all got a little too real now, sitting with your foot hovering above the gas pedal ahead of the moment that could make or break your career before it even started. The very moment that could be a step forward to restoring your father's name, getting the team back on track in a new age of rally racing. The moment for a change.

No pressure, right?

"Raiko," your co-driver called your name, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the road, gloved fingers tightening on top of the wheel with a small snap. "Do you remember the course?"

"Yes."

"Good. All set?"

"I think so."

"Raiko, look at me."

"You're not my style."

"Raiko," his voice turned more serious and deep with warning. With another sigh into the small, cramped space for breathing your helmet provided, you turned to him.

"You've got this. Let's prove everyone wrong."

He was right.

Let's prove everyone wrong.

The race marshal started the countdown, walking from the front of your car to the side, each number in the count descending with your nerves. You loosened the hold on the wheel, stretched your legs to the pedals and let out a deep breath.

"3."

It's not about how fast you go.

"2."

It's about how long you go fast.

"1."

Fast like lightning.

"GO!"

A soon as the lights went green, you hit the throttle and took off into the dirt, raising the dust behind you. You skidded off to the side a little due to the gravel but you got control of it before anyone could notice.

Tokai was a pretty difficult course to rally depending on which stages got picked for the day. More forest terrain gave way to hard roads, receding in wheel control, gaining insane suspension pressure. This one was more of an open valley terrain, which was a bit safer, but the later you got the okay to race, the more dust and gravel from other drivers would pile up in front of you, making visibility dangerously low. The corners were way too tight and one second off from Tanaka's directions or a mishap of your footing could cost you and put your car on the sidelines.

"5 left over crest," Tanaka paced you for the upcoming hill and you prepared to release the throttle.

"1 left 100."

Wheels back on the ground, you resumed pressing the pedal as a hairpin portion came into view. The cloud of dust in front of you was chalky and you had to get through it before it raised higher. Putting the car in second gear, you got ready for the drift portion.

You had to be extra careful here. The mechanic in chief told you to go easy as the rear could send you into oversteer, throwing off the balance of the car and fuck up the race completely.

Listening to your gut, you waited for the right time then tapped the brake, cut the wheels and pressed the throttle, sliding across the portion. Loud cheers and whistles erupted as the crowd in the stands got up to watch you complete a perfect drift.

"3 right don't cut."

Reduce pace and prepare for a possible road hazard.

You slowed down and sure enough a bump in the road came up. If you missed that one and took it at 120 kmph, it would've projected you off the track, crashing the car hard into the rocky wall like a cereal box. Thankfully, you swerved around it, feeling the car lift off the ground on the left for a bit before it fell back down.

"6 right very long."

Hard left into a tight corner.

"Cut 8 left."

Tight corner requiring you to follow a straight line in the curb.

This was the last and worst corner on the track. You were lucky it didn't rain because this is where your car can skid off into the stands. You caught the straight line pretty fast, cutting a few seconds off your lap time without slowing down.

Following the rest of Tanaka's directions and focusing on the rest of the road, the race finished before you knew it. You liked the state you were in as you drove, mind clear of everything else because as soon as the adrenaline in your body decreased, your brain got bombarded by all kinds of issues.

Did I push the new suspensions too hard? God, I hope I didn't scratch the rear in the hairpin. Was my timing too off on that last corner? I should've practiced it more.

Driving back to your team's station, you sent all those worries at the back of your head and got out to watch the screen showing the score board just as it updated to display the new track times since you were the last to go.

1. Akira Shinkai - Sigma Racing Academy - 1.23.40

2. Naozumi Hiyama - Spica Racing Factory - 1.23.59

3. Rai Suruki - Suruki Racing - 1.24.25

"WE BAGGED THIRD PLACE?!" you yelled throwing off your helmet onto the car seat.

"WE SURE DID," Tanaka high fived you, beaming with energy just like you.

"That's 15 points on the first stage! Well done, lightning strike," he ruffled your hair as you snickered, nose scrunching up with a smile at the gesture you were already accustomed to.

"The car held up a lot better today than in testing. Maybe we lifted the curse," you wiggled your eyebrows at him at which he flicked your forehead. "Ow, what did you do that for?"

"Don't jinx it. We still have two more stages to go."

"But-"

Before you could say anything else, you were interrupted by angry shouting coming from the station next to you.

"I told you to not touch the third gear," yelled a strained voice.

You walked to the side of your station, peeking your head by the team banner, and watched the heated exchange between one of the drivers and his mechanic. Your eyes wandered to the car sitting in the middle, not one hand touching it for the regular post-race check up. From the different strokes of sky blue layered over stark white, the red and blue sponsor stickers and the carbon spoiler, you recognized it to be Spica Racing's.

"It doesn't matter now," shouted another voice, so annoyed and sure of themselves as if they owned the place. "I got a good lap record this time."

"What would you do if you had to retire in the middle of the race?" shot the mechanic, chastising the driver for being careless.

He got up in his face, towering over him though the other was much taller than him.

"We won't win if I don't attack!" he yelled back, throwing his hand in the air to make a point. "The moment I think of being scared I will lose. I won't make that mistake. So just do your job and fix the car."

With that final remark, he rounded the car to walk away from the station until he noticed you in the corner, now standing in full sight just at the line between your stations.

Quickly replacing the scowl on his face with what was probably his natural smirk, he came to you, stopping short of the barrier separating you.

"I don't do autographs, but for you I can do more than that," he added a daring wink, flashing his cocky smile at you.

Ew.

Taking a small step back hoping his vibes wouldn't envelop you, you uncrossed your arms from your chest and lifted an eyebrow at him.

"I don't want your autograph."

Taken aback at your response, he backed up slightly too and looked you up and down, taking in your deep blue and dark gold team fireproofs and the suit tied messily around your waist. The old, way out of fashion colours seemed to ring a bell.

"Suruki Racing...," he started doubtful, "the shithole that revived from the ashes? Are you a mechanic, a co-driver or something for them? If you are, why don't you jump ships? I wouldn't mind having you on my team instead," he finished his speech of intent with another shit-eating grin.

Who the fuck was this guy?

The audacity that wafted off him must definitely make him popular with the ladies.

"I don't think we've met before," you extended your hand out to him, curt and polite, like a normal person would do, introducing yourself.

"Rai Suruki, driver for Suruki Racing," emphasizing your role in the team so he got it through his head that you weren't some bimbo.

If you were, you'd make sure your fist decorated his face in pretty red tones before anything else.

He straightened back, smirk gone from his face in all sense of the word. It got replaced by some kind of curiosity. Looking between you and your palm hanging in the air he looked confused to say the least. He's heard about female racers before and seen some working in technical around the place, he's just never seen one stand against him on track.

Tired of being polite to someone who obviously has never heard about manners, you were about to retract your extended hand when he caught it in a firm grip and pulled it towards him, just holding it instead of shaking it. The move sent you forwards, almost barreling into him when your reaction response kicked in to steel you a safe distance away.

Maybe Tanaka's intense survival program pays off sometimes.

"So," he began and you wondered if he was about to say something intelligent or spew more shit with that mouth of his. He decided to choose the latter. "You're the one driving the Beetle dupe right there?"

Eh, come again?

Your eyes widened at him, looking at where his finger was pointed to confirm that he was pointing at your car and not anywhere else, then you whirled your head back at him appalled.

"B-Beetle dupe?!"

"I thought you were a guy."

Wouldn't be the first time I heard that one.

You took your hand back from his hold, wiping it on the sleeves of the suit hanging on your hips in the hopes that it would wipe off the disgust you were feeling too. It didn't but it was worth a try.

"It's the name," you replied through gritted teeth.

He backed up some more to scan you again, though more attentively this time, like you were some kind of illegality, cooked up from the pits of his imagination. You gave him your best front, hardening your jaw and rolling your shoulders backwards, proving you were more than a pair of boobs and a vagina, which was apparently his deranged first impression of you.

You deserved to be here. No amount of stares from the male specimen, surprised or with sinful intentions, could ever make you back down from this. This was yours to take on. No man could take this from you. Not him anyway.

So, you stared him down too, trying to find something else beside the extreme big dick energy and unsurmountable lack of scruples surrounding him. Struggling to see anything else but some disdain in the way he crossed his arms over his broad chest, a rich prick attitude from how he shifted on his legs like the world owed him golden lingos every time he breathed, and some leftover rage from the screaming match with his mechanic still present in the tick of his jaw, you let your eyes meet his own in conclusion of your very own analysis.

Yeah, there's nothing else in there. An ambulant douchebag. Just like I thought.

Flashing cameras were suddenly thrown in your faces, interrupting the intense stare-down between you. The press and some people, potentially fans of other teams by their t-shirts, surrounded you from every corner of the plastic barrier around the two stations, pushing each other over the race marshals that tried their hardest to keep them away. It wasn't long until they pushed over the barrier.

Too absorbed in the chaos, you didn't notice he leaned down to your ear but when you did, you stilled in your shoes, all blood draining into your pounding stomach. He spoke close and low, so only you could hear his words.

"Don't get too comfortable around here, rookie," he whispered, hot breath hitting the shell of your ear making shivers run down your extremely clothed spine. "Let's see how long you last in here because this season might just be your first and last."

Pulling away with another one of his smirks that were starting to get on your nerves, he regarded you once more before he walked off in amusement to his cool-down room, giving you a full view of his broad back.

Oh, just you wait -

A reporter shoved into the human barrier of orange and green safety vests reaching the railing, yanking it back and forth repeatedly until the poor plastic seal broke off, letting everyone else pool in around you.

Uh-oh. This wasn't good.

They packed around you like wolves on their prey, all shouting different things at you while shoving their big cameras, recording devices and phones in your face. The flashes blinded you, turning the world white and too bright for it to be natural light from the clouded sky above.

Your hands shot up on instinct to cover your eyes from the flaring lights as your ears focused on filtering through the blaring sounds of camera clicks and voices. Then the countless questions registered clear as day, hitting you like a truck at full speed.

"Are you Rai Suruki, daughter of Hiro Suruki?"

"Where did your father get the money to restart the team?"

"Is your car even going to last a season?"

"Do you consider yourself a challenge to the rest of the drivers?"

I guess that was it for mystery, dad.

Some of the other teams passed by the ruckus, sparing quick judgmental glances or sending disgusting sneers your way like that was the way they initiated your welcome ceremony at the gates of the jungle.

If this was any other series, you would've been so welcomed by the rest of the grid and treated somewhat better by the media and the fans. But this was the World Rally Championships.

Driving was dirty.

Talk was filthy, full of disrespect and unspoken trials of envy between each driver.

The press competed to see who would get your head on a pike first and parade it as the story of the century.

Respect was fought for, not earned.

It was a different game. One where you needed to play even if you didn't want to so in turn you wouldn't get played. Survival of the fittest truly.

You steeled your gaze, waving the reporters off and digging a hole through the crowd, successfully escaping away to your pit crew. Helping with packing up bits and pieces and taking your own stuff, you headed back to your team quarters, aware of the intensifying stares belonging to the rest of the teams still around their stations, talking about the first day in this season's calendar being an interesting one.

You had a feeling you and the team were the hot topic of conversation since you could feel their eyes searing deep holes into your back, burning hotter and doing more damage than flame-lit arrows aimed straight at you ever could. Tanaka wrapped an arm around you giving you his curled moustache smile, sympathizing with you.

Looking up at the sky darkening in mauve and pink, you let a small smile grace your lips. At least today was done. Your rally racing career has officially started. The team was back in business.

However, this first stage was just one of the many challenges still to come. Who knew what else was on the way?

As you trudged on the warm asphalt, warmed by the mid-spring warmth of March, there was one thing you knew for sure.

This is gonna be a long season.

Next

Thank you for reading :) As always leave a like, comment or reblog!

[vvynia]

a. anderson x black reader

pairing: beautiful hardworking provider abby x loving housewife reader

genre: fluff w/ allusions to smut.

word count: mmm idk but it’s short i promise

warnings: due to sexually suggestive content, mdni under any circumstances. otherwise, just pure fluff and maybe a twinge of angst if you get a microscope. also not beta read. if you see a grammar or spelling error, lemme know and i’ll appreciate it.

author’s note: this is my first time writing on tumblr! i was feeling excited and had a lil creative spark so here we all go. this was a draft for a good month and i spontaneously finished it instead of starting my nutrition assignments lol i hope ya’ll like it !! 💕

nah cause imagine being abby’s little housewife, basking in your femininity every. single. day. wearing long flowy skirts because you want to. learning to knit and sew and alter all types of clothes in your spare time because you want to. absentmindly mentioning some new hobby or skill that’s piqued your interest to abby over the dinner you made.

that night, you two shared in your routines because abby left work early that evening, trading a little shift-time with a coworker on an you owe me one pass. she didn’t hesitate to let everyone know that it’s because she wants to spend time with her wife.

she gets undressed as you draw a bath. it smells of ylang ylang and lavender with a dash of gardenia. epsom salts are added to soothe her muscles cause lord knows you do zero heavy lifting during your day or else abby glowers and coos about how “you could’ve just asked me, baby.”

working a well-lathered sapo sponge into her skin because the love of your life deserves the absolute BEST pampering and if she won’t give it to herself, you sure will.

you two head to bed that night in married bliss (after abby initiates slow, languid sex, of course. how could she not when your breasts were right in front of her while you ran that prickly ass cloth over her shoulders? she’s from around the way, she leaving with something)

you wake up before abby most days to prepare her a nice, warm breakfast (cause she loves and takes care of you so its the least you could do, really, to show how much you appreciate her), and today is no different. you try to be as quiet as possible but abby sleeps like an on-call soldier, like she’s in an active warzone and the enemy could strike at any time sooooo nine times outta ten, the faint cadence of sizzling applewood bacon’ll have her stretching out of bed.

but anyways she comes to you from behind as you mix a little pumpkin spice into the pancake batter, nestling her palm into the nook where your waist and right hip meet. her hair is down this morning, so when she bends to press kisses along your left shoulder, the tips brush along the neckline of your satin camisole. its a miniscule thing of material, hem reaching as far as the apex of your thighs. even the soft patter of her tresses against your body would be enough to tickle you, and they do just that.

you shy away, giggles on your tongue and happiness dripping from your wide eyes. you tell abby to shoo if she’s going to make breakfast harder. she smiles.

moments like these remind abby why she works so hard even on the days that demand more out of her—physically, mentally, emotionally.

she’ll do anything to make sure she keeps getting to hear you sound so pretty, so carefree.

[licorice-tea]

Apricity

Pairing: Sabo x reader

Content: fluff, a little kissing, gender neutral reader, short and sweet <3

Word Count: 0.7k

A/N: just a little something i wrote about sabo! i rlly thought about making it longer, bc usually i write at least 1k words or so even in one shots, but i am happy with it as it is now. i hope you like it too, thanks for reading! :)

Apricity

The warmth of the sun in winter.

Sabo drags you out of bed at the “ass crack of dawn.” Or at least, that’s what you describe the time of day as when you complain about him waking you up so early. You grumble and groan until it’s clear you’re not getting out of this early morning excursion.

“The sun is barely up!” Yet, it still momentarily blinds you with its rays when you walk out onto the deck.

He holds your hand- be it to share warmth or so you don’t turn back, you’re not sure. “It’s about a third of the way to its high point-“ then he turns so he’s walking backwards to face you, “and if the sun is up, we should be too.”

The two of you come to a stop on the starboard deck. “No,” you move one of his hands to your waist, “I should be tucked in bed under my warm covers” then the other, “with my warm boyfriend,” and finally looping your arms around his neck, “and we should both be asleep.”

Sabo smiles and nuzzles his face into your neck. “I’ll keep you warm.” His hair tickles your ear, but you can’t giggle as you’re still trying to be annoyed with him.

“Hmph.” His hands start to rub up and down your sides as the two of you take to swaying in some type of rhythmless dance. “You don’t even like this kind of cold weather.”

“I know.” Sabo finally shows his face again, much to the chagrin of your chilly neck region (and to the pleasure of your eyes.) “But, I do like when it’s cold and I can feel the sun on my face or back.”

His confession is just cheesy and poetic enough to make you smile, albeit softly. “Hm… Like a cat?”

“How dare you! I think I’d be a lion if I were an animal, at the very least.” Sabo says this all very matter-of-factly, causing you to fall into a fit of quiet giggles in his arms. His eyes track your movements- your smile, the way your eyes crinkle, the very sound of your laughter- while wearing a smile of his own.

You quiet yourself again, still grinning brightly, and shrug. “Still a cat.”

He just stares at you for a moment after that, and you think you must have something on your face. “Sabo? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” His blonde hair falls over his eyes as he shakes his head to reassure you. “Everything’s perfect, love.”

Such a simple little pet name, but it still manages to make you blush. You push the hair out of his eyes and end up cupping his face in your hands. Now you’re the one staring, but he doesn’t seem to mind the intent observation. “What was that thing you said about the sun earlier?”

“Hm? That I like how the sun feels in the winter?”

“Yeah.” You place a chaste kiss on his lips. “I think I get what you mean.” It’s freezing outside, and the wind chills every exposed inch of your skin, but none of that seems to matter right now. From the way his smile and his eyes shine; warming you from within, while also squeezing you gently to share his body heat… it’d be impossible to not understand the feeling he describes.

“Good.” Sabo kisses you back, gentle and slow. Like you have all the time in the world- which, you suppose you do. It certainly feels that way when everything is cold; it’s the type of weather where you really just want to stay in bed all day. And yet, here you are outside, entertaining your boyfriend’s desire to feel the sun in winter. “But I like kissing you more, just so you know.”

With the sweetest expression you can muster and a tilt of your head, you ask; “Does that mean we can go back to bed?” Alas, your question is only answered with laughter.

But hey- maybe winter isn’t so bad anyway, when you have the warmth of the sun right in your hands.

[fields-of-grimes]

Dirty Thoughts | Carl Grimes

Request: Could you possibly write a fanfic where Carl has a real big crush on the reader and thinks very ‘Adult’ things about her and the clothes she wears only makes it happen more, and the reader likes Carl back. But one day they are hanging out by themselves and he gets a boner but tries to hide it as much as possible but the reader notices and tried to talk about it then it turns into him confessing and the reader says she knew he liked her but not that much. Then it ends in something smutty. [ the reader is experienced, no pet names] IF YOU DONT ITS OKAY!!<3333(that’s very specific and I’m sorry:()

Carl grimes x fem!reader

CW: smut

EVERYONE IS 18+

—————————————————————-

Carl looked out his window, biting his lip as Y/N walked past his house in a crop top and shorts. His mind instantly became flooded with images of her lying on his bed, begging him to touch her.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his bedroom door, he jumped at the noise. He cleared his throat before walking to the door, he opened it and held back a gasp as Y/N was revealed on the other side.

“Hey Carl, whatcha doing?” You asked him. He swallowed quickly before answering, “Nothing much, what um what about you?” He asked trying his best to not sound so awkward.

You giggled slightly biting your lip looking into his eyes, you always had a crush on him ever since Rick saved you from Woodbury and brought you back to he prison, you and Carl instantly clicked and became best friends, somewhere along the line you caught feelings for him, you knew he liked you back but you thought it was only in a friendly type of way, you thought he could never like you back the way you liked him, maybe thats was why you dressed the way you did, to get him to see you the way you saw him.

You were brought back to reality by Carl’s hand waving in front of your face. “Hello? Earth to Y/N anyone home?” He asked laughing.

You blushed slightly and nodded. “Sorry i must’ve zoned out for a second, anyways i wanted to see if you wanted to hangout for a little bit?” You asked him smiling a little.

He nodded and moved out of the way so you could enter his room, he stared at your ass, as you walked to his bed. He shook his head a little attempting to rid his mind of the thoughts of fucking you right then and there, and sat next to you on his bed leaving a very noticeable gap between the two of you.

You leaned over to grab a comic, your shirt riding up showing a lot of under boob, Carl gasped as he felt himself getting hard. He quickly grabbed a pillow and placed it over his boner hoping you didn’t see it. He grabbed a comic and began reading it.

You bit your lip and slid a bit closer to him, leaving a smaller gap between the two of you, your arm accidentally hit the pillow moving it slightly, Carl didn’t notice that it had moved but when you began reading the first page of your comic, you saw his boner out of the corner of your eye. You began blushing and cleared your throat.

“Um Carl?” You asked looking over at him. He hummed slightly letting you know he was listening. “You’re um, you uh, i can see.” You stopped talking trying to find the words, he looked up at you confused. “English please?” He said laughing. You swallowed hard blushing even more before speaking. “You’re um well you’re pitching a tent.” You said motioning your eyes to his boner.

His eye followed your motion and he gasped before covering it and leaning over covering his face with his hands. “Oh my god im so sorry, i uh i read a sex page in my comic.” He said, you just sighed knowing he was lying. You got all of his comics for him since you were older by maybe 3 or 4 years, you kept all the explicit comics to yourself knowing Rick and Michonne would not appreciate you giving him rated R comics, even if he is old enough to know what sex is.

“Bullshit, i get your comics for you, i know what they are before you get them. Talk to me what caused it i wont laugh or make fun of you i promise.” You said rubbing his back comforting him.

He sighed and looked at you. “You caused it, i like you a lot Y/N, fuck i think im in love with you, and every time i see you i just want you touch me, and when you showed up in this wanting to hang out i just started thinking about how much i want to have sex with you, and i sound like a idiot, you must hate me now.” He said putting his face back into his hands.

You looked at him shocked, all this time you thought he only liked you as a friend, you never knew he thought about you that way. You put your comic down and looked at him. “Okay.” You said grabbing the pillow and throwing it off the bed. You bit your lip as you stared at his boner, you felt yourself becoming wet.

“What?” He asked looking at the pillow then back at you. “Y/N what are you doing?” He asked as he watched you move so you were straddling him.

“You said every time you see me you want to fuck me and you want me to touch you, so i can either suck you off and then we can fuck or we can just skip the foreplay and get straight to it.” You said as you rolled your hips on his erection moaning softly.

He bit his lip and placed his hands on your hips helping you move them, groaning softly himself. “Let’s do the first one please.” He said leaning his head back.

You got off of him and helped him take off his pants and boxers. Your eyes widened as ou were nearly smacked in the face by his erection. If anything Carl was definitely not on the small side. You wrapped your hands around his length pumping him softly before taking him into your mouth, bobbing you head up and down at a steady pac. He moaned loudly but quickly covered his mouth silencing his moans incase his dad or anyone else was home. You slowly started to massage his balls, bobbing your head faster as you felt him twitching in your mouth, he soon after came down your throat. You pulled away swallowing his cum.

He reached over you and opened his nightstand pulling out a condom, he sat back down and slid it on, helping you out of your clothes. You gave him a shocked looked. “Why do you have a condom in your drawer?” You asked. He blushed and looked away for a second then looked back at you. “I had a dream about this happening and stole some from Glenn incase this ever really did happen.” He said blushing harder as his eye fell to your breast.

You giggled and kissed him softly before straddling him, with one hand you grabbed his shaft positioning the tip at your entrance before sliding it into you, with the other hand you had it tightly gripped on his shoulder. You winced at the pain, this wasn’t your first time, you had a lot of experiencing unwillingly at Woodbury but Carl was most definitely on the larger side.

“You okay Y/N?” He asked as he was fully inside you noticing the pure look of discomfort on your face. “Yeah I’m okay, its just been awhile since ive done this.” You said as you started to bounce up and down at a steady pace, moaning softly. Carl’s hands were placed on your hips groaning in pleasure as he helped you bounce up and down.

Carl kissed you silencing both of your moans in fear of someone hearing. You moaned into his mouth, speeding your pace up, the feeling of your stomach tightening caused you to break the kiss, “Carl I’m close.” You said whining in pleasure wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closer. He held you tightly and nodded into your chest. “I think i am too.” He said sucking on your nipple, you moaned loudly before cumming all over his length, he shot his load into the condom before laying backwards taking you down with him.

You looked at him smiling, “This does mean we’re dating now right?” You asked him, he laughed before nodding. “Yes it does.” He said as he slid out of you, you laid next to him lying your head on his chest.

“Carl? Y/N?” You heard Rick’s voice coming from the hallway, you both quickly got dressed and sat on the bed just as the door opened. “Hey what’re you two up to?” Rick asked looking at the both of you.

You shrugged and looked up at him. “We’re just reading comics nothing to exciting.” You said before looking back down at your comic. “Alright well Maggie and Glenn are having us over for dinner, just wanted to let you guys know. Don’t have too much fun.” Rick said as he closed the door.

You and Carl looked at each other before bursting out in laughter.

————————————————————————

I’M BACK!!!!!! Sorry for the shitty ending i didnt know how else to wrap it up

[jude5bellingham]

Jude is sitting on the apex of a dune, leaning back, using his arms to support his weight, taking in the waves of sand created by the worms. Although he missed the sights of the rugged terrain and water that caladan offered, arrakis had its own unique charm, with the wind slowing down, the sand and spice being dragged in the air looking almost mist-like. You approach him silently from behind, but he starts before you can say anything.

"a messiah?" jude can only scoff and shake his head, the idea that he is a messiah is so ridiculous to him. He was hardly equipped to lead his house (when he was a duke-to-be), much less a population of religious fanatics who believed him to be their prophesied saviour.

Your eyes stay set on him, unblinking. You don't say anything, hoping that the silence will give him the time and ability to digest his fate. You hope that in the silence, that he will hear it.

"they can't be serious..." his gaze drops to the floor, suddenly understanding the gravity of the situation which he is in. Your gaze drops with his as you're unable to do anything other than nod, you're sure that he desires some form of comfort but you aren't able to provide him with it, not now, especially not now. he stands up, his back to you, staring at the horizon in front of him created by the varying dunes of sand.

"Tell me..." he starts, keeping his back to you, standing completely still, "do you believe, honestly, that I am the messiah? Your messiah?"

You take a step to stand next to him, huffing a breath out as you do, carefully sifting through the words running through your head to attempt to form a sentence light enough for him to hold onto for now, fearing that a heavier statement may only cause him to bend under its weight.

"I don't know..." you begin, Jude's head turning to look at you, "I think a messiah is just about hope, you know, something to believe in…"

His eyes watch as your chest rises and falls while you think carefully about your choice of words, treading lightly around the idea of him being a hero, prophet, and messiah. He juts his bottom lip out to urge you to continue your train of thought, he’s sure that whatever words you speak next will be far more intelligible than anything he has going on in his brain currently anyways.

"You've seen it Jude. The way people look at you, the looks that your presence commands…” You turn towards him as you speak, finally meeting his gaze, “You inspire hope and I think that’s more than enough.”

“Even if it's false?” he turns towards to look at the horizon again, his question leaves his lips as a quiet mumble, fearing any answer you could possibly give him to his question.

“Hope is never false.” you state, copying him and looking at the horizon, “Not to the believer.”

He can't help but chew on his bottom lip, thinking about it all. so ridiculous. all of it. Just a while ago he was the son of the Duke, now he is expected to lead the Fremen to freedom. How was he supposed to manage that?

hi this is a short part from my dune!jude au 😭 i havent proofread it but im about 3k words in but i wanted to see if i'd get any engagement!! thank you so much if you've read this far 🤍🤍 please let me know your thoughts

[fanta2y]

Quiet Moments

omg guyss its another yuuji fic teehee i am very much obsessed with him at the moment, and his character is just super fun to write and dive into !! hopefully you guys think this is accurate! and if you guys couldn't tell this is DEFINITELY inspired by that one tiktok audio (ifykyk)

@archive-network ( hmm what could this possibly be ??? )

cw: none

word count: 1k

His arms were warm around you, his face nuzzling into your neck as you both laid in bed. A comfortable silence settled over you. You could feel his breath cascading down your neck, could almost hear his heartbeat as it beat against you. The simple reassurance that he was still alive was enough to bring an almost sad smile to your lips. 

After everything you both had been through these past couple of weeks, with the death of friends and mentors, the constant battles that made your hands never really stop shaking. It was these small moments of just breathing in each others company that helped soothe the aching in your bones. 

“You know I had a weird dream the other day.” Yuuji whispered into your shoulder. You giggled at him, humming a questioning tune to let him continue telling you about this weird dream of his. 

“We were condiments.” He said simply, his voice deadly serious. It made you choke on your own spit, sending you into a coughing fit while simultaneously laughing. He chuckled away beside you as you tried to regain your breath. 

“Yuuji, what the hell?” You turned in his hold to look at his face, his eyes gleaming with mischief and amusement at your reaction. You rolled your eyes at him, playfully pushing his shoulder. 

“No seriously!” He doubled down, his voice pitching up in almost a whining way as he tugged you even closer into his embrace. You didn’t think you two could get much closer, having practically every revealed piece of skin touching one another. 

In any other situation, you would be complaining about being too hot. You naturally ran a bit hotter than normal, so cuddling was something you reserved for very cold nights. But recently, you pushed through the heat that seemed to consume you just to feel his flesh on yours. 

“Well what condiments were we?” You asked, humoring him and his filterless thoughts. It was endearing hearing him think aloud when he was around you, letting himself just fully relax in your presence made your heart soar. 

“I dont….really remember.” He contemplated, his eyebrows furrowing as he attempted to think back into dream land. You watched with amusement dancing across your features. 

“Your definitely ketchup.” You replied suddenly, nodding your head, overdramatisizing the thoughtful look on your face as you gave him a fake once over. He was startled at your sudden confession, a smile tugging on his lips as he looks at you.

“Why ketchup?” He muses, returning to his spot between your neck and your shoulder. Leaving soft kisses in his wake. You shiver under his minstrations, causing him to smile against your skin. A giddy giggle leaving him as his eyes meet your again, loving adoration swirling within the honey brown. 

It makes your heart skip a beat, your brain short circuting and you struggle to find the words to answer his silly questions with your even sillier reasonings. 

“Ketchup goes with everything. But like everyone likes it best with fries, of course.” 

“I dont know I like it more with chicken.” 

“Yuuji- anyway…so like I’m the fries to your ketchup.” 

He pauses, the whole conversation feeling silly and a grateful the distraction from everything else swirling around in his mind. But he could read the confession deep within the metaphor and the silly analogy. 

It made his cheeks heat up and made him want to squeeze you even closer, pinch your cheeks under his fingers and babble about how cute his girlfriend was. 

And thats exactly what he did. 

You attempted to swat his hand away, already knowing what was coming just from the look in his eyes. But you, of course, were unsuccessful. Your cheeks now pinched, almost painfully, under his grip as he spoke to you like you were a small animal. 

Although you tried to seem like it was annoying, and that you didn’t like the attention he gave to you like this. Both of you knew it was just an act you put on to keep some semblance of your dignity in tact. 

After he frees your face from his fingers, you go back to being entangled into eachother. Legs intertwining, your head resting on his chest. Listening to his slow, calming heartbeat. It almost lulls you to sleep. 

“What condiment am I?” You ask him, peering up at him through your eyelashes. 

He paused for a second, thinking it over. His mind filtering through all of the condiments he knew in his head with an almost laughable amount of seriousness. 

“Mayonnaise.” He blurted after a long period of silence. You raised your eyebrows, a bit confused on the choice. 

“Why mayonnaise?” You questioned, your hands slowly moving up to entangle themselves in his pink locks. You gently tugged on the knots that formed over days of not having time to brush them out, little piece of rock and gravel still sticking onto certain pieces. 

His eyes fluttered shut at the calming feeling of your hands carding through his har, your gentle fingers sending soothing tingles down his spine. He hums, his thoughts effectively turning into mush the second your hands go anywhere close to his hair. You like to joke and call it his ‘off button’. But it really was the truth, the second your hands touched his hair he practically melted into you. His brain basically shutting down. 

“Well because…its like…” He swallowed, trying to fight through the exhausted fog that now crept into his minds. Your hands lulling him into a relaxed state where he could just fall straight to sleep in your arms. And hes sure he would have the best sleep of his life right here. With you to protect him from all the bad dreams.

“Mayo is a underrated condiment, and only certain people truly understand its greatness.” His voice was soft now, taking a gravely hint due to the sleepiness that crawled up his throat. His eyes still blissfully closed as you continued playing with his hair. 

You laughed softly at his explanation, shaking your head at him. A blush appearing on your cheeks at his sweet words. You felt his breaths even out as slept took him away, leaning down to kiss his forehead gently. Murmuring your goodnights to him as you laid back on the pillows behind you both. 

With a soft smile on your face you closed you eyes and dreamed of better days. It was moments like these that made everything worth it. 

authors note: omg thank you guys for all the love on the little sukuna drabble i posted i did not think yall were gonna eat it up they way yall did im blushingggg :)) but i hope you guys enjoy this and thank you so much for readingg !! as always, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

[thelov3lybookworm]

Little Fawn

Summary: Y/n faces the consequences of ignoring her grangran's advice.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: here's something short for all my lulu girlies ❣️

(also thank you @clairebear08 and @berryzxx for helping with lulu's perfume eheheh 🤭)

Anyways, enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Do not leave the home at night or walk the streets alone at night. Especially in the middle of the night.

That's what everyone said, including Y/n's own grandmother, who had taken her in after her parents death when she was only a child.

They had been killed by the very being Y/n had always been warned against.

Vampires.

Even thinking about them sent a chill down Y/n's body.

She hurried her pace, pulling her coat tighter around herself, keeping her eyes downwards, glaring at the worn and chipped cobblestones under her feet as if they had caused her a personal offence.

She was already in a bad mood because of her friend, who had forced her to stay long after she was supposed o have returned.

Y/n worked in a local restaurant as a chef. Creating intricate art in food from raw materials brought her immense joy.

That was one of the things Y/n had inherited from her mother. Both of them had loved cooking, and always gave their best into whatever they created.

Y/n paused at the mouth of an alleyway, considering her options. She could either take the long but used route, where she could see that people were mingling on, or take the shortcut, which right now, looked abandoned.

Y/n knew her grandmother always yelled at her to not come home late at nights, and if she had to, to not take the road where not many treading.

But...

Who was going to tell Y/n grandmother?

Y/n turned on her heel, speeding her pace as she started up the lightly inclined alley.

Completely missing the sign that said read-

Body found. Do not tread. Supernatural presence suspected.

•○🌑○•

The alleyway was usually was filled with people and bustling crowd, eager to get wherever they were going to. At the very least, it would still be filled with the chatter from the nearby homes and restaurants.

But tonight, it felt eerily... quiet.

It was so silent Y/n could practically hear the breathing of the earthworm six feet underground.

I need to stop exaggerating so much. Y/n thought to herself as she walked briskly down the street. She had already covered half the distance now, just half more and then she would be home, safe and sound.

Y/n started to think about the book that she had been reading about food and wondering about how she could help her restaurant grow when the sound of a metal scraping against the ground came from behind her, making her stop in her tracks, every part of her body freezing.

Silence, thicker than her brother's thick skull descended over the area, and a shiver wound its way up Y/n's spine. She willed her legs to move, to take her back home, but it seemed like they had developed a mind of their own. They did not move, even as every pore and cell in Y/n's body screamed at her to run.

It was either that, or there was an abomination staring at her.

Y/n knew it could be the other option, but she always liked to think of herself as an optimist, and so, she just hoped that her brain was toying with her.

Even as all the signs pointed to it being otherwise.

The scuff of a boot sounded behind Y/n, letting her know that she was not alone. The scent of a sweet musk mixed with undertones that reminded her of fall surrounded Y/n until she was drowning in it.

Good thing, right?

No.

She felt their presence just as the person was right behind her, their breath fanning over Y/n's neck. Y/n suppressed a shiver, trying to lean away.

No matter how positive a person, right now, all positiveness in Y/n went right out her ass.

A vampire was breathing down her neck. And Y/n did not know what to do.

She also did not have the small device that her grandmother had brought her on her, having considered it an unnecessary weight.

Oh how she condemned herself right now.

Y/n tried to lift her hand, finding it very easy to do so. Experimentally, she lifted her leg, and she could... move.

But now she did not want to, knowing it would do her no help but get her killed faster.

I should have told grangran that I love her.

That was all Y/n could think of as she turned, slowly.

Her eyes met gold and russet, the brutal and cruel scar drawing her gaze. The high cheekbones, the ethereal beauty did not really register, because Y/n was too busy wondering how those fiery strands of hair would feel between her fingers.

"Hello fawn." The deep voice of the man- vampire- shot right to Y/n's heart and flowed though her bloodstream.

Y/n began to look towards his eyes, then stopped herself as her grandmother's sayings swirled around her mind.

Whatever you do, never meet eyes with a vampire. It's like giving them invitation to bite.

So Y/n focused on the red locket that hung from his neck, staring at the thing intensely as she finally faced him fully.

She felt him smile. "Hmm. Interesting. You know not to make eye contact." He laughed a little. "I wonder who taught you that. Knowing how secretive the information is, you should not have known it."

Y/n's blood turned to ice.

What is he talking about?

He chuckled again when Y/n ignored him. "Oh fawn, you are so adorable." She glanced up at that, even as she tried not to. It was like someone was forcing and controlling her.

She still did not look into his eyes, so she was proud of herself for that.

She watched his lips curve into a sadistic smirk, and light glinted off of something sharp as he ran his tongue over it.

His canines.

Y/n sucked in a sharp breath, hey eyes flying to his.

She realised her mistake then, her eyes going wide.

"No..." She whispered, unable to look away from his eyes as she took a step back. Those beautiful fucking eyes.

His smile grew wider, delight rolling off of him.

"Oh my fawn. Don't be scared." His smile said something completely different, something akin to run.

Y/n watched him advance, continuing to retreat. The cruelty on his face made her blood chill but boil at the same time.

She jolted when she realised she... liked that look. Like he was going to rip her apart but at the same time let her light up the world in flames as he stood by, cleaning his nails.

She liked that knowing that, and it was so utterly wrong.

And, oddly enough, Y/n wasn't complaining.

He stepped closer, his eyes shining.

"I will take good care of you my fawn."

One second, he was standing a little distance away, the next, he was standing toe to toe with her.

And the next, his teeth sunk into flesh like hot knife on butter.

•○🌑○•

General Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe

Lucien Taglist: @mirandasidefics @fell-in-luvs

[scarlet-fantasies]

OBNOXIOUS EREN WHEN ???

Hi anon!

Gosh sorry I took so long, but I finally came up with something. And its lengthy so that's the good part. I wish I could make content faster but I just get so tied up. But anyways, I will try to write more and faster since I have break for a couple of weeks. :)

writers block plz dont attack me

-Scarlet

Obnoxious Bf Eren Hcs

::Description::

Eren being an obnoxious boyfriend and you, his gf, being annoyed/embarrassed 25/8 by him. Just a lot of things he does that you have to put up with that can be hot, annoying, or even embarrassing.

::𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬:: sfw & slight nsfw

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑡

𝐼𝑛𝑏𝑜𝑥 𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛

𝐶𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑡𝑜 𝑗𝑜𝑖𝑛 --> 𝑇𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

© 𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑒𝑡-𝑓𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑒𝑠 // 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑙, 𝑟𝑒𝑢𝑠𝑒, 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠. 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑢𝑛𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑤𝑖𝑠𝑒. // 2021-𝑃𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

💚Run, right now!

💚If you’re his first love and he knows, he brings it up to tease you. In front of his or your friends.

💚One time you were with Mikasa and him and you did something for him and he had to tease.

💚“Cause I’m your first love, hmm right?”

💚“No.” You'd eye roll, already annoyed with him.

💚“Yeah it is, liar. C’mere.” He’d smirk pulling you into a headlock and ruffling your hair and telling you that he’s your first love. “It’s cause you like me, admit it, I'm your first love.”

💚“Let me go, you’re ruining my hair Eren!” You'd complain, trying to get out of his grip.

it was totally harmless tho

💚He loves squishing your face and calling you cute to make you get upset. He does it to annoy you and see you flustered if you are the type.

💚When you have sleepovers with Mikasa he intervenes and tries to get in on your girl talks. “So who’s this crush you had before you met me, babe?”

💚“Buzz off, this our girl time.” Mikasa would argue as you avert your eyes and hope your friend can get him to leave.

💚Eren will sometimes causally walk by you and instead of saying hello he playfully bites your ear.

💚"You know 'hi' is nice too." You'd complain with your hands up in a bit of defeat in trying to explain to him that his antics were not in any way romantic.

💚Speaking of biting he likes tackling you down to the floor and biting you playfully.

💚He won’t wrestle but kinda fights you in a way, he just likes to see you try to move him or get out of his hold. He likes seeing you use your strength on him and then he just easily turns you around or stops you with like no effort.

💚Would arm wrestle with you for sure just to show off his muscles.

💚He’s literally so annoying that before you do it he has to take his shirt off so you can see his toned body.🙄

💚Pokes your sides all the time!

💚Loves to point out that you like him or have a crush on him. Or even that you think he’s hot.

💚“Aww my girl has a crush on me.” He’d grin, leaving you to eye roll.

💚Or even, “So I’m hot, huh? What do you like about me so much?” He’d smirk, causing you to look away.

💚“I don’t know—“

💚“Hmm, you don’t know?” He’d tease.

💚“I never said you were hot—“

💚“You’re not a good liar.”

💚If you’re short he loves to make fun of you by calling you fun size and by holding objects above you so that you can’t reach it even when you jump.

💚Or even if you have a baby face or you look younger than you are because of your height or appearance he teases you about you being a kid.

💚Like one time you were out at a restaurant and looking at the menus before ordering and he was like, “you’re supposed to order from the kids menu.” He teased with a huge smirk on his face making you kick him under the table.

💚Or he just likes to ruffle your hair and he’ll call you kiddo even tho you’re not.

💚When he is over he’ll look around the room and if you have something “girly” or “personal” he’s gonna tease.

💚“Babe, can I read your diary?”

💚“No, it’s personal.”

💚“Why not, it’s when you were 12 I’m sure you wrote about really cute things.”

💚“I was weird at 12!” You’d admit, snatching the book away.

💚“What? I doubt it, I bet you were cute.”

💚“I thought these were for kids.” He’d point at the stuffed animals.

💚“Aww you have a night light, are you scared of the dark?”

💚And when he sleeps over he’s just more annoying by making fun of your pjs if there not sexy.

💚“Aren’t those kid pajamas?” He’d laugh seeing you wear this fluffy pajamas with a bear print.

💚“I get cold.”

💚“You look so cute, babe. C’mere.”

💚When you’re brushing your teeth for the night he offers to do it for you but he just put tooth paste on your nose.

💚He’ll also lock you in place when you cuddle so you can never get up

💚When cuddling he likes to hold you in different positions and he’ll even do that leg flip challenge just to smack your ass cause you didn’t even know what it is. So he gets away with it.

💚It was literally extra embarrassing when his brother walked in too.

💚“Damn I need to knock.” Zeke would say before leaving you two be.

💚Sometimes he just tells you to pick something up so he can comment on your butt.

💚Will eat something gross and then kiss you since you don’t like the taste.

💚Tries to hug you when he’s sweaty and you get upset.

💚He also loves to not shave his facial hair just to see you get upset when he starts to poke you just for a kiss.

💚Because he’s taller and maybe towers over you he’s stared down at your chest cause he could see and pulls it to look more.

💚When he walks past you he sometimes lifts your skirt up.

💚If your laying in the bed he grabs you by your ankle sometimes.

💚Will make fun of your baby pictures. “You looked so adorable being that mad, you still give the same face.”

💚Calls you a big baby and you always argue about it.

💚Flicks your forehead for no reason or when you tell him a concern of yours.

💚“Silly girl, I know you didn’t mean it.”

💚“Ow, Eren.”

💚If you ask him to braid your hair he will put the hair in your face to give you a mustache

💚He actually likes to do your hair tho.

💚When you argue and you turn your back to him he turns you to face him.

💚Tickle fights that have no limits, like your skirt could ride up fully and he doesn’t care.

💚He’d even tickle your boobs if he has access to it.

💚Sits on you like you’ll be laying on his bed or couch and he just decides to put his body weight on you.

💚“Eren get off!”

💚“This is my bed.” He’d sass.

💚“Im not a bed!”

💚Puts you over his should and slaps your ass

💚Points out your jealousy, “I didn’t think you could be any cuter, but you being jealous is really adorable babe.”

💚Finds all your reactions so cute that he just has to do something all the time.

💚He loves pretending to drop you

💚He randomly pulls you on top of him

💚Bc he is taller he puts his shirt over your head sometimes and you get so annoyed.

💚If you have a ponytail he will pull on it.

💚He has a very obnoxious laugh and so you hear quiet often when he is teasing you.

💚One thing he does when you get upset and try to fit him is wrap his arms around you so you can’t budge.

💚He will wrestle you, i fact he’ll even do arm wrestling with you.

💚And if you’re really weak he has let you win once or twice and if you’re strong he’s lost but says he’s distracted.

💚He will make bets about it.

💚“If I win, no pants.” He’d smirk, knowing he’s probably going to win now.

💚“That isn’t even fair . . . Fine then, if I win no kisses for a week.”

💚“You’re on.”

💚Because you two have been together for a while He sometimes gets curious about the panties your wear and pulls back your pants just to see what you have on.

💚And if he gets really comfortable he sticks his hand in and tries to massage your ass.

💚One thing he loves doing is asking if he can touch your butt when it’s really being on display by you bending down or whatever.

💚“Can i feel how plump it is?”

💚“Eren!”

💚“What? I thought it looked cute.”

💚“It’s not!”

💚“Yes it is.”

💚Or he just teases you about how much you have.

💚“I wonder how much it weighs.”

💚“Shut up!”

💚“It really looks like a bit.”

💚He defiantly clutches your ass.

💚Eren loves seeing you oblivious so he always says suggestive things.

💚He makes bets with you and you usually lose

💚You two steal the blanket from each other so to end the war he just grabs a hold of you instead.

💚He makes jokes about putting a kid leash on you or squeaky tracker to not lose you in a crowd.

💚If you’re shorter he sometimes will pretend he doesn’t see you by continuing to look up. “Babe where are you?”

💚Will undo any bow or clip in your hair randomly or even something that needed to be tied like now of a shirt or on pants.

💚When he hugs you sometimes and pulls you in a for a deep hug he unclasps your bra.

💚Sometimes you can sense it and try to stop him but he always catches your hand or moves fast enough.

💚You sometimes call him werewolf and he gets so upset he’ll chase you around until your tired.

💚He has sometimes told you to give him a piggy back ride by jumping on top of you, to which you end up falling forward since you don’t expect the weight.

💚“Eren, get off.” You'd complain.

💚“Babe, it’s your turn to carry.”

💚“I can’t!”

💚He likes to make jokes that you need to learn how to kiss so he sometimes tries to instruct you while kissing you. “So then closer, closer, and now look at me—don’t laugh, you’re supposed to focus on kissing better.” He’d scold still making you giggle as he tried to “guide” you.

💚“This is silly.” You’d laugh earning a big grin from him as he cupped your face with his hands.

💚“You’re so fucking adorable.” He’d say before crashing his lips onto yours.

💚If you are ever feeling embarrassed or feel shy to say something, he loves embarrassing you more.

💚~~“What’s the matter, cat caught your tongue?”

💚~~“You know you’re cute when you’re embarrassed.”

💚~~“Aww, look at you getting all red.”

💚Takes your pens or pencils without asking and tells you that if you want them back you have to say the magic word

💚Sometimes he takes the one that's in your hand just to see you annoyed with him.

💚Randomly gives hickies anywhere while trying to do things and you won’t really notice until it’s too late he’s done more than just kissing.

💚Points out the hicky he gives.

💚“It looks nice.”

💚“Shut up.”

💚“It looks so nice, I’m gonna show my brother. Ze—“

💚“No!” You’d shout immediately covering his mouth.

💚“I’m kidding, babe. I would never.” He’d laugh.

💚Randomly scooping you up and holding you in his arms.

💚Bring up embarrassing moments that you’ve had only with him.

💚“Remember when your nose bled while I kissed you.”

💚“That was because of the heat!" You'd remind.

💚“Sure.” He’d eye roll.

💚Or even, “Do you remember when you tripped over that rock at my house and you were about to cry?”

💚“I wasn’t going to cry.”

💚“Yeah right. You had teary eyes.”

💚“I was in pain.”

💚“Remember when that lady thought you were a kid? At the park?”

💚“Why do you always remember the weird stuff?!” 😭

💚Wants to see your baby pictures and asks for copy’s so he can keep them in his books as bookmarks and that when he reads a book he can look it and show you it.

💚“Awww this is when you had your diaper changed.”

💚“What?!!”

💚“I’m kidding, it’s a picture of when you liked bubble baths, you even had a rubber ducky.”

💚You’d frown, finding it to be a bit embarrassing as he just went on.

💚“It’s not much different now, you still like baths—but I took your ducky’s place now.” He’d smirk, making you blush.

💚Though being playful you'd respond, "Maybe, but you're not as cute as him."

💚He keeps a lot of the pictures and you beg him to get rid of them but he just won’t.

💚Speaking of which he loves randomly taking pictures of you when you’re caught of guard just to keep for himself.

💚When driving he sometimes revs the car and even when he says he won’t he’s just lying all to get you to scream.

💚He hits on you all the time even tho he’s dating you.

💚Won’t tell you if you have crumbs or whipped cream on your cheek he thinks you’re too cute. Well that doesn't last because he thinks he can just lick it off and you look at him with a really serious face of like 'seriously, were are in public?!?!?!'

💚Even if you two are married he’s still obnoxious no matter what because he will just randomly ask things like:

💚~~“Babe, do you wanna make little Erens?”

💚~~“Sex?” While you’re like trying to relax and it’s just so awkward 😂

💚He mostly says it because he’s joking tho and to see you get shy or annoyed, kinda depends on your mood.

💚Loves talking about you and how hot you are to him.

@bi-effing-simp @lucifugovs @xxghoulishspritexx @sp00ksic0la @keithandlevi-ontheroof @songbirdgardensworld

@bubs-world

::Previous Post::

1

[ropes3amthoughts]

Kabru Joins Laios’ Party

Description: What if Kabru was able to join Laios’ party. That’s it that’s the whole fic. I just like putting Kabru in situations.

Relationships: Laios & Kabru, Laios & His Party, Kabru and Laios’ Party, Kabru & Rin

Words: 9,637

Chapters: 1/? (Probably never gonna be finished)

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Swearing? Trauma? Drinking? I don’t really think there’s anything like big that needs a warning but if you guys think I should add one I can

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergent, Takes place Pre-Canon, Dungeoning? Idfk, Kabru being a little freak /affectionate, Eating monsters (sort of), Kabru suffers more than Jesus, Friendship, Kabru being a fake ass bitch, Kabru and Laios are like the main guys but the other party members are there too, By other party members I mean the ones from pre-canon, Very brief appearance from Rin, Author does not know anything about alcohol or cooking or much of anything in general really, Wait now that I think about it should drinking be a tag because there is a scene with drinking even tho it’s like small drinks and nobody gets drunk, man idrk what to say about this like read it if you want to and if you don’t then don’t, I have never posted fanfic before, No Beta

A/N: I don’t have AO3 so that’s why I just formatted this like AO3 but on here. I am not much of an author lol so please do not have high standards for this at all. I planned for this to be like five chapters but it was really hard to write just this one so I don’t know if I’ll write the others. This is written kind of awkward but hey it’s just for fun and posting something is better than nothing or whatever the saying is. Anyways, fic under cut.

Kabru’s sole purpose in life was to prevent anything like the Utaya tragedy from happening again. He was lucky enough to have been spared, he would never make the mistake of taking that for granted. He would always feel indebted to whatever force decided that Kabru, the outcast kid with monster eyes, who only caused others trouble, was worth saving when everyone else had been slaughtered mercilessly.

The only way to be worthy of this life was to spend it saving others, doing something now when he did nothing then. After all, what would be the point of his survival if he did not use his dedicate himself, his knowledge, his life to preventing an incident like Utaya from ever happening again? That incident that took his world, shredded it into little pieces, and left him behind, let him live when he didn’t deserve life. It’s not something he’d wish on anyone else, it’s something he could not let happen to anyone else.

He’s on the right track now though. He had situated himself on an island off the shores of Kahka Brud. It was a cursed island with a growing dungeon and a Mad Mage responsible for it all. Kabru was going to be the island’s savior, defeat the Mad Mage, lift the curse, seal away the dungeon and its monsters, and prevent a tragedy from unfolding again. He was going to protect people. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he failed.

He also couldn’t just let anyone else do this, since whoever defeats the Mad Mage would become king, and a selfish, uncaring, immoral ruler, or the elves taking power, would not work in the interest of the people. Those types of people didn’t know what they were doing. They didn’t understand the short lived races, they wouldn’t make the right decisions, they had no good intentions. Only a certain type of person would be fit to rule. That person was certainly not Kabru, but with the way things were going, he might have to step up or else the wrong person would.

Kabru wasn’t stupid, he knew he needed a strong, well rounded party to even be able to descend into the dungeon to find the Mage. There were plenty of strong parties, but finding a party to join, however, was difficult. Not only were these groups tight knit and hard to get into, there was the larger issue at hand, that these parties were greedy, corrupt, and morally bankrupt. Kabru had no intention of working with a filthy party, he was only willing to work with someone who was committed to killing monsters and dispelling the curse over the dungeon.

Kabru follows many leads, but every single of the parties he observes is unforgivably corrupt in one way or another. With the constant failures over the past year, he’s been considering giving up on finding a party and instead making one of his own. He hasn’t given up yet, however, since he’s been hearing interesting rumors as of late; rumors about a selfless party, the Touden party.

The Touden party consists of six members: Laios and Falin Touden, the leaders of the party, Shuro, an Eastern man, Namari, a dwarf warrior, Marcille, an elf mage, and a halfling, Chilchuck. Kabru has heard many rumors of them and personally observed them himself. From what he’s heard and seen, he, frustratingly, can’t come to a conclusion about the party.

It’s difficult to figure out because he sees good things, like the the Touden party compensate past party members, but then he also sees those past party members use the money to fuel the black market. He hears that the Touden party has done great things in return for nothing, but he also hears that they’ve made things worse for others. He can’t get a definitive answer, at least, not from being a mere observer. He needs to talk to them directly.

It is the Touden party, but, from what he’s heard, Laios Touden is the main leader. He’s the one calling the shots. If he conquered the dungeon, he would be king. Is he someone Kabru could trust with that responsibility? Is he someone Kabru would want to assist or someone Kabru needs to take care of?

Kabru really has no idea. He just needs a window to talk to him. The Touden party is often seen around town and frequenting bars before and after heading into the dungeon. Before they go on their next dungeon expedition, that’s when he’ll talk to him. That’s when he’ll get his answer.

That’s what Kabru had foolishly thought, anyways. To his shock, Laios had payed him no mind, no matter what he did. Kabru could ask to talk to him directly, he could sit next to him, he could steal Laios’ gold and pretend other man had dropped it, he could pretend to accidentally bump onto him, he could ask for directions, he could bat his eyelashes and flirt with him, he could say he recognized him from somewhere, he could offer to buy him something, he could say he needed help, and none of it would work.

Every time, Laios would simply brush him off, ignore him entirely, or tell him he’s busy. Nothing got a reaction out of Laios, he was simply uninterested in Kabru, no matter what he said or what persona he put on. At first, Kabru wondered if Laios was egotistical and he thought he was too good to be talking to people like Kabru, but he saw Laios talk to a handful of other people who Kabru himself didn’t even know. Maybe Laios really just didn’t want to talk to Kabru and only Kabru. If that’s the case, why?

When he tells Rin about his poor luck with the Touden party, she goes on an angry rant about how Laios should respect him more. She tells him that he’s a great person and Laios should consider himself lucky to even talk to him. Kabru is amused by her outburst, but he thanks her nonetheless. She promises they could make a party of their own if things don’t work out. He says he’ll try a bit longer, but if not, he’ll take her up on it.

He has been trying for a while now. It’s been months since he started investigating the rumors, a little over a month since his initial attempt at conversing with Laios, and a week and a half since his conversation with Rin. He’s had no luck getting Laios’ attention and it has been far too long. Kabru can’t give up though. Laios is a promising lead, the only one he’s had actually.

He’s sitting in the bar again today, eyeing Laios and thinking of how he could approach him. Laios is with his party right now, so Kabru would have to wait until they’re separated. He thinks he’s in luck when Falin starts to get up, but none of the others move.

He sighs, but then the realization starts to set in. Falin, Falin Touden, has gotten up and is sitting at the bar counter by herself. Falin Touden from the Touden party is all by herself and could easily be talked to.

Kabru is struck with an idea. Laios may be the leader, but Falin is also a Touden, so there’s a chance she holds power over the party too. And here she is, all by herself, with empty seats beside her. If he couldn’t get anything out of Laios, maybe he could get it from Falin.

Kabru takes a seat next to her as casually as he possibly can and orders something. While the bartender is working, he looks over to her naturally, as if he were simply looking around at his surroundings. She picks up her glass, sips at her drink, makes a little mmm sound, and turns as if she is going to stand up and leave.

“What did you get?” He asks her, thinking maybe small talk would work on her when it failed with her brother. Falin jumps when he speaks to her, and then turns to look at him.

“Oh. Uhm. I got the uh…bourbon.” She says quietly and awkwardly, but she speaks to him! She listened to him and responded to what he said! This is way more progress than he made with Laios, but he doesn’t know if she’ll continue to talk to him. Kabru tries not to get his hopes up too high, but he at least hopes talking to her will make her stay at the counter with him for a minute or so and he can get even a little info.

“Is that one good?” He asks nonchalantly.

“Y-yeah. I uh like it.” She stutters, fiddling with her glass and looking away from Kabru. The bartender hands him his drink and a silence starts to fill the air. Kabru takes a sip of his own drink and thinks how he can keep this conversation going.

“Oh! I had a feeling I knew you from somewhere! You’re Falin, from the Touden party!” Kabru exclaims as if he had suddenly come to the realization and not intentionally approached her for this reason. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Kabru.”

“Nice to meet you too.” She says meekly.

“I’ve heard a lot about you and your party. Good things of course. How’s adventuring going?” He looks to her

“It’s good.” She says, taking a sip from her drink.

“That’s nice.” He smiles, then takes a sip from his drink. “Hey, your party wouldn’t happen to need any help, does it?” He asks as if he had randomly thought of it while drinking. It did come up in his mind while he was drinking, but truthfully he had considered joining the party to gather information for some time. While he was unsure of whether or not he wanted to join the party for good, it could be a good way to figure things out.

“Uhhhh no? I don’t think so?” She answers.

“Well, if you do, I could always lend a hand. I’m proficient with a variety of weapons and I have experience with dungeons.” He says trying to sound casual. He doesn’t want to give her the impression that he’s full of himself.

“That sounds useful, but I’d have to ask the others.” She tells him. She takes a big sip of her drink to finish the last of it, sets the glass down gently, and stands up.

“Alright then. Good luck with adventuring.” He tells her. He gives her a smile and she awkwardly waves goodbye to him before returning to her table. He does his best to watch the party indiscreetly as he finishes his own drink.

When Falin sits down, everybody’s eyes are on her.

“Oh, there you are, Falin!” Laios greets her, breaking the awkward silence. “You were taking a while.”

“I didn’t mean to.” She says apologetically.

“Who was that guy?” Marcille interrogates her, leaning in close.

“I don’t really know.” Falin answers truthfully.

“Really? Why was he talking to you so much then? What were you guys talking about?” Marcille continues to press, she’s always been rather nosy.

“Have you never seen someone get hit on in a bar before? It’s pretty obvious that’s what was happening.” Chilchuck speaks up.

“No way! Falin wouldn’t have stuck around if he was flirting with her!” Marcille starts bickering with Chilchuck.

“Was that guy really flirting with you?” Shuro asks.

Laios hasn’t said anything about the guy, but he’s looking at her curiously. She looks around at the party. Marcille has shushed Chilchuck and is looking at Falin expectantly. Chilchuck just grumbles and returns to his drink. Namari isn’t interested in the drama either, so she’s also focused on her drink. Shuro has an odd expression on himself. It’s like everyone, minus Namari and Chilchuck, wants to know.

“I don’t think so.” She answers.

“What was he saying to you?” The elf asks.

“What did you say?” Shuro asks before Falin is able to respond to Marcille.

“Uh, well, he wanted to join the party? I told him I’d ask you guys.” Everybody all looks over to the guy who wants to join the party after she says it, sizing him up.

“He doesn’t look very strong.” Namari remarks.

“I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere before.” Chilchuck says, making a contemplative face as if he was trying really hard to remember where he’s seen him.

“I think I do too.” Shuro states.

“Really? I don’t recognize him at all.” Laios says.

“Why does he even want to join?” Marcille asks bitterly.

“Uh, he said something like he heard of us?” The short haired mage replies.

“That’s a stupid reason. Tell him no.” The blonde huffs.

“I can’t do that. He seemed like he really wanted to join, I’d feel bad if I said no.” Falin admits.

“Ugh. I’ll tell him then.” Marcille stands up and walks over to him.

“Wait!” Falin follows after her.

The others have started to get up too now because they’re curious and/or their drinks are finished.

Kabru, meanwhile, is frantically planning out what to say to everyone. He’s never gotten this far so he has to make sure he says all the right things. He composes himself and pretends as if he doesn’t notice the party walking up to him.

“Hey! You!” The elf, Marcille, confronts him. He turns around on the stool to look at her. “Whatever your name is!”

“My name is Kabru.” He introduces himself with a polite smile. He hopes maybe that will help him because Marcille sounds pissed. He hopes he didn’t leave a bad impression on Falin that consequently warped the party’s perception of him.

“Ok, Kabru.” She says a little flustered, much to Kabru’s relief. “Well, we were all talking and no, you can’t join our party, so leave Falin alone.”

“Uh, she doesn’t mean that?” Falin says squeakily.

“I do mean that.”

“Marcilleeeee, he seems nice.”

“Kabru.” The halfling takes the chance to talk to him while the two girls are distracted with talking to each other. “Why do you want to join our party?”

“Your party is renowned for its strength. I admire you all, I want to help you.” He says it sincerely, although he doesn’t quite mean those words. “I already have my own gear. I know some basic spells too, so you wouldn’t have to worry about using mana on me. Additionally, I’ve been to the dungeon before, I know how to handle myself. I think I could be a valuable member of your party, if you’d be willing to have me.” He says, hoping he sounds convincing.

“Well, it’s Laios’ decision.” Chilchuck shrugs.

“Wait, we should talk about this first!” Marcille squeaks. The party gathers in a vaguely circle shape, not at all far away from him, and whispers about him. He hears only bits of it, like “…wouldn’t be efficient,” “I don’t care,” “…bigger party is better, right?”, “Do you see him? He��”, “…maybe he…”

After about a minute, the party separates from the circle.

“We’re going to delve into the dungeon. We’re going to fight a dragon on the seventh level. Is that something you can handle?” It’s Laios who talks to him this time. Laios is finally talking to him. Kabru needs to make the best possible impression he can.

Kabru stands up from the stool. He makes unwavering eye contact with Laios and says “It is,” in the most intense voice he can manage. Kabru has never made it further than the third level and he’s never even seen a dragon before, but he says those two words with the conviction of someone who has killed dozens of dragons before.

“Well, I guess he can join.” Laios says with a shrug. Kabru feels like a weight has lifted from his shoulders. He feels so light. He feels dazed. It’s finally happened. He’s in. Everything else goes by in a blur, he hardly even remembers filling out the paperwork.

“We’re going back to the dungeon tomorrow at eight.” Laios tells him.

“I’ll be there.” Kabru says.

Laios nods and then just heads out of the bar. The other party members give him a look, some say bye, and then the rest of them head out too. The door shuts and Kabru is left alone in the bar.

Now that he is alone, Kabru is overwhelmed with all the things he needs to do to prepare. Tomorrow? He did say he had gear and was prepared, and he was, but that was rather soon. Well, if they were planning to go tomorrow, then he really wasn’t to throw off their schedule. He should be glad they let him join on such short notice. He rushes off to gather his things, get more supplies, and tell Rin where he’s going.

Kabru wakes up at five in the morning. He packs his things as if the party is leaving in three minutes rather than three hours. By the time he’s packed and gotten himself ready, it’s only five seventeen.

He decides to head over to the market. He wants a book about the dungeon so he’ll know what to expect. He has a few, but he needs more knowledge, knowledge about what to expect deep in the dungeon. It would be terrible if he was jarred by everything the party encounters on the lower floors, he needs to be as prepared as he can for someone who’s only been to the second level.

He finds a book for a fair enough price. By the time he’s bought the book and headed over to the meeting spot, it’s only five twenty six. He’s the only one there at this time, so he decides to read the book in the meantime.

If he’s going to help them kill a dragon, he really needs to know more about dragons and their weaknesses. He flips to the chapter about dragons and skims the contents, trying to commit only the key words to memory. Dangerous breath, huge, some have impenetrable scales, jaws that could bite clean through bone, weak spot under the neck.

“Good morning.” A voice says, causing Kabru to tense up, startled. He looks up from the book and realizes it’s Shuro. He puts the book away and stands up straight.

“Good morning to you too.” He greets back.

Shuro must not have planned to say anything else after that because there is only silence. It’s just the two of them there, maybe he could take this opportunity to get to know him better.

What Kabru learned from yesterday is that he has to work his way up to talk to Laios. Laios only talked to him after Kabru had spoken with Falin, then Marcille, then Chilchuck. Kabru needed to secure his position in the party to get Laios’ attention, and the way to do that was through the other party members.

Shuro was probably the second easiest to talk to, since he had not been against Kabru joining the party and was willing to talk to him. Falin was probably the easiest to talk to since she had been the one willing to talk to him and vouch for him last night, but he had a feeling if he got too familiar with Falin it would ruin his chances of getting close to Marcille.

Marcille was probably the second most difficult to talk to, second to Laios. Marcille seemed to be angry with him, which would make getting close to her difficult. He thinks the reason she’s angry with him is probably because she feels protective of Falin since the two are such close friends.

Namari would probably be fairly easy to talk to, since she didn’t seem to dislike him, but then again, she didn’t approach him. He thinks Chilchuck would be the third most difficult to talk to. Chilchuck seemed to be suspicious of him, but he was willing to have a civil conversation with him. He seemed to be the “smart one” of the group, so he might be hard to get close to.

That being said, Kabru has a perfect opportunity right now to be friendly with Shuro, and if it goes well, which it probably will, it will make the others feel more comfortable with him. Then he’ll slowly be able to bond with the party members until he gets to the top, where he’ll finally be able to figure out who Laios is, what makes him tick, and if he’s someone worthy of defeating the dungeon.

“I don’t think we properly met yesterday. My name is Kabru.” Kabru introduces himself again, just to be polite. He offers out a hand.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Toshiro.” Shuro? Toshiro? says, shaking his hand.

“Sorry, you said your name is Toshiro?” Kabru asks to clarify.

“Yes. Why do you ask?” Toshiro questions his question.

“I swore the others called you by a different name is all.” The shorter man says.

“Ah, they call me Shuro. Laios told them that was my name and I never had a chance to correct them.” Toshiro explains awkwardly.

Kabru feels like he’s won at cards. Toshiro has opened up to him, he knows his name when nobody else does, and he learned something about Laios as well. He wonders if Laios is uncaring for his party members if he didn’t bother to learn Toshiro’s name.

“That’s terrible.” Kabru says sympathetically. Suddenly, he gets an idea. “Do you want me to tell the others?”

“You don’t have to. It’s really not so bad.” Toshiro reassures him.

“Doesn’t it bother you, though?” Kabru asks, curiously.

“Somewhat.” He mumbles.

“If it would make you feel better, I could definitely tell them.” He offers again.

“It wouldn’t be a bother to you?”

“Not at all!”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” Toshiro says gratefully.

Kabru smiles. People are a lot like safes. You want to get close to people like you’d want to get into a safe. You can’t just open up a safe, however, you need a key, a password, the right little gadget or combination to open it up. With people, you need words.

If you say the right things, people will open up to you and that’s when you can get close to them, find out what they’re thinking, figure out their motivations, understand them more than they could even understand themselves. When you say the right thing, it’s a feeling like a safe clicking open, you know you can get in.

Toshiro thanking him is like that click. Toshiro isn’t going to be totally loyal and open to him now, but he has a basic level of trust for Kabru. He has a positive impression of Kabru and is more likely to be on his side. He can use this, he thinks giddily.

About an hour later, at seven fourteen o’clock, Chilchuck shows up.

“Good morning.” Toshiro greets Chilchuck.

“Good morning, Chilchuck.” Kabru also greets Chilchuck, wanting to be polite.

“Hi.” Chilchuck responds simply.

Chilchuck is much more closed off, harder to talk to. Kabru thinks of a way to tell Chilchuck about Toshiro’s name, but not too awkwardly and bluntly, and also give a positive impression. He thinks for a few minutes, but then he’s got it.

“Do you know if the others are coming anytime soon? Toshiro and I have been waiting for a while now.”

“Half the party is always late.” Chilchuck huffs. “You guys will probably-wait, what did you say?”

“I just said that Toshiro and I have been waiting for a while now.” Kabru repeats innocently, putting a subtle emphasis on Toshiro’s name.

“You mean Shuro?” Chilchuck questions, looking between Kabru and Toshiro.

“Kabru is right. Shuro isn’t my name, it’s Toshiro.” The long haired man admits.

“Huh? Then why did you-Laios.” Chilchuck says Laios’ name with disdain.

Kabru is going to ask what about Laios, but then Marcille shows up.

“Hi!” She says cheerfully.

“Marcille, did you know Shuro’s name is actually Toshiro?” Chilchuck asks her, still appalled. Kabru feels relieved that the other party members are spreading the word so that he doesn’t have to.

“What?! Is it really?!” The elf questions Toshiro, who nods in response. The three of them start animatedly chatting at this revelation. Kabru simply listens.

“I can’t believe we’ve been saying it wrong this whole time.” Marcille remarks. “I can’t believe that Laios told us your name wrong…actually I can believe it.”

“Is Laios…not a good leader?” Kabru asks, trying to think of the most nuanced way to phrase it.

“He’s alright, he just doesn’t really notice little details.” Marcille answers.

“He doesn’t notice big things either. That guy is dense.” Chilchuck adds.

“He has good intentions, he just doesn’t… execute them well.” Toshiro tells him.

“He’s awful with people, but when we’re in the dungeon, he’s competent enough. He’s an ok leader.” The halfling concludes. The others seem to agree with this.

At eight o’clock, there is no sign of either of the Toudens or Namari. The others reassure him this is normal, albeit annoying.

At around eight forty, Namari shows up. This is, apparently, earlier than she usually shows up. Namari talks with them too after she learns of Toshiro’s actual name.

At nine thirteen o’clock, more than an hour after the original meeting time, the Touden siblings finally arrive.

“Wow, everyone’s talking today!” Laios exclaims.

“It’s because Shuro’s real name is actually Toshiro.” Namari tells him.

“It is?” Falin asks, opening her eyes in shock.

“Laios told everybody the wrong name.” Marcille says, giving Laios a flat look.

“He did.” Toshiro confirms.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Laios asks, he sounds a little hurt.

“You always talked over me.” Toshiro says. The whole party is looking in an accusatory way at Laios now.

Something about this situation, Laios being doubted by his whole group, makes Kabru ecstatic. The whole party has probably lost some respect for Laios over this. He has an idea now, if he can put pressure on the party’s relationship with Laios, not enough to break the party apart, but enough to strain it, he can knock Laios down a few pegs.

When Laios is down, he’ll be more willing to talk to Kabru, he’ll be desperate. Kabru can promise to restore his image, which will gain Laios’ favor and trust. Then, Kabru will finally be able to get to know him. All he needs to do is get close enough to everyone to be able to encourage them to speak out against Laios, then his plan will fall into motion. It’s perfect.

“I’m sorry I got your name wrong.” Laios apologizes sheepishly.

“I forgive you.” Toshiro says.

“You should be sorry for being late too.” Chilchuck scolds. “Do you know how long we had to wait for you?”

“I’m sorry I made everyone wait.” Laios apologizes again. “Let’s go to the dungeon now.”

The party seems to accept this, but there’s still a bit of tension in the air. Kabru feels immensely giddy. This is all going as he planned.

When they’re in the dungeon, Kabru makes sure to volunteer himself as much as possible, thought not to an obnoxious extent. He offers to kill small monsters in the way and the group lets him. He’s definitely making his way up the ranks.

After hours of traversing the dungeon, Laios calls for a lunch break. They’ve made good progress, they’re a good way through the second floor and it’s only the first day. Getting through the dungeon is a lot faster when Kabru has a skilled and coordinated party who can easily defeat monsters and navigate their way through the dungeon.

The party sits down in a circle in a little tucked away area, somewhere the monsters probably won’t find them. Marcille makes a magic circle to warm up the meal. The party chats a little bit and Kabru watches their dynamics closely.

Marcille sits at the middle part of the circle so she is able to tend to the magic circle. Right next to her is Falin, who’s helping out. Laios sits next to his sister and is unloading some things from his pack. Toshiro is sat next to Laios, he has an expression on his face like he’d rather be sitting somewhere else. Kabru himself is in between Toshiro and Namari. Namari is next to Chilchuck, who is next to Marcille’s other side.

After a few moments, the meals are heated up and distributed. It’s nothing fancy, just some rice and meat in a bowl. Kabru eats it without a word, the others have also fallen into silence as they eat.

Everyone finishes with their meal fairly quickly. After a mere half an hour, they had prepped a meal, eaten, and then packed their things back up and were ready to travel again. The party was making lots of progress and with very little trouble. Kabru thinks that maybe the party could actually push through the whole dungeon and defeat the Mad Mage.

They travel a few hours longer, until the dungeon started getting dark. It’s strange, how the second floor appears to have a sky, and with it, day and night cycles, even though it’s deep underground. They’re a bit more than half way through the second floor, they could probably make good distance on the third floor by tomorrow. It wouldn’t take long for them to reach the lower floors at all.

Kabru doesn’t feel tired at all, he never feels tired at night. He has a feeling of restless even more so than usual, however. He needs to keep up appearances, he needs to get close to the party members, he needs to impress them, he needs to be informed, he needs to do so much.

The party sets up their bedrolls and heads to sleep, reassuring Kabru nobody needed to keep watch and such an early level. While the others settle down and fall asleep, Kabru lies still in his bedroll, wide awake, for maybe twenty minutes. He listens to the breathing of the others’ slow until he is sure everyone is asleep.

When he’s absolutely sure, he slips out of his bedroll as quietly as he can, grabs his book, and walks off a small distance away from the party. He knows a simple light spell, which he casts, summoning a small glowing orb. He only needs a small light, large enough to read but not large enough to disturb the others or attract monsters.

Speaking of monsters, he’s going to face a lot of them, and as they head to lower floors, he’s going to be more and more unfamiliar with them. Monsters are only a problem if you don’t know what you’re dealing with or you freeze up. If Kabru can just figure out their weak points, he can deal with them easily, like solving a puzzle.

He flips the book to the third floor pages. He’s read about the third floor a few times before, but it wouldn’t hurt to refresh his memory. This floor is maze-like, consisting of winding stairs, and it has lots of tricky monsters and undead. Nothing seems to be too much of a problem, plus the other party members are probably equipped to taking out monsters like these.

Kabru has a much less intimate knowledge of the fourth floor, but he knows the basics. It’s a floor mainly consisting of water, with water walk spells being the only efficient way to traverse it. Kabru knows how to cast water walking, so he can handle himself just fine. The monsters there are all aquatic and can maneuver around in the water quickly, which can be rather difficult to fight.

The smaller ones shouldn’t be so difficult. The fish monsters can just be cut apart and with mermaids he can always just cover his ears and avoid them. The bigger ones might pose an issue, but then again they all have vital organs that can be stabbed, similar to the way an animal would. No matter the size, they can be killed. He would kill them.

He flips to some of the illustrations of the monsters and thinks to himself how he could kill some of them. Cutting off the heads would probably work for most of them, most living things need them, but it wouldn’t prove effective for ones with, for example, two heads or ones that were large enough that it would be difficult to get a clean cut.

Demi-humans would probably be easy. The anatomy and organs should be relatively the same to humans, although they were monsters, so he couldn’t know for sure. Even if the vitals weren’t exactly the same he could probably-

“Is that a monster book?” Someone suddenly says right next to his ear, making him jump to the point he drops the book on the ground and lose control of his light, causing it to fizzle out. He inhales sharply, reaches a hand for the dagger on his side, and spins around to look at whoever is speaking to him. They probably could’ve killed him anyways if they were that close, but he couldn’t know for sure.

He squints his eyes to adjust to the dark. When he realizes who he’s looking at, Kabru is stunned. It’s Laios, he thinks. Then, he thinks shit shit shit.

Kabru thought he may have gotten caught. He had thought of some excuses for if he was caught but the book went unnoticed, like he was keeping watch, he was going out on a walk, or he had to go to the bathroom. If the book was noticed he’d say something like he wanted to refresh his memory or you could never be too prepared.

The thing was, he planned the delivery of these excuses for someone else. He’d have thought maybe Toshiro or Falin would have looked for him if he was missing since he’s talked to them, or maybe even Chilchuck since the halfling had been suspicious of him, but Laios was not someone he prepared for. Laios was the last person he expected to go looking for him.

After all, this was Laios, who had ignored him for months on end. Laios whom he had never properly talked to. Laios, whose party Kabru had just joined the day before, and given the party’s discussion in the morning, he didn’t seem like someone who would notice if one of the members went missing, especially not Kabru. He hadn’t expected to be able to talk to Laios for at least another week.

“Oh no! Your book!” Laios says, picking up the fallen book with the same tenderness most people would use to hold a small wounded animal or perhaps a newborn baby. He gently brushes the dirt off its pages and, rather than handing the book back to Kabru, starts squinting to see the illustrations in the dark.

Kabru starts to panic. What if the reason Laios is out here because Laios is onto him? What if he knows Kabru really isn’t all that experienced with dungeons and he’s trying to act more skilled than he is? What if he knows Kabru just joined the party to try and get an opportunity to talk to him and isn’t quite sold on his leadership or really anything about him?

What would he do if Kabru didn’t think he was worthy of being king? Most adventurers were cocky and thought it was some inherent right of theirs to conquer the dungeon. Would Laios be upset? Would he try to kill him? Kabru keeps his hand near his dagger, just in case.

It’s been only a few seconds, but Kabru can’t just sit here quietly. He needs to say something, do something. He has to seize this opportunity to talk to Laios.

A question of why Laios is here has started to form in his mind, but he’s interrupted by Laios asking him “Why do you have this?”

“Just in case, you know?” Kabru responds almost immediately, giving a casual smile as if to make the excuse seem more natural, despite the fact it can’t be seen very well in the dark. He wasn’t sure if the excuse would work with Laios, he wasn’t sure of anything about Laios at all. “Why are you out here?” He decides to ask, hoping maybe he can better understand Laios.

“I woke up and I realized someone was missing. I was a little worried, but then I saw you over here with a monster book and I was curious.” Laios says nonchalantly, not looking up from Kabru’s book.

What is there to be curious about? Does he know Kabru doesn’t really know how to handle

the dungeon? Does he know Kabru wanted to test him, peel back his mask and see what kind of person Laios really was? When Kabru was trying to figure out Laios, was Laios really onto him first? Was he in control of everything all along?

“Can I have that back?” He asks, hoping to take it away before Laios can come to any conclusions as to why he has it.

“Yeah.” The blonde replies, looking at the pages a bit longer before handing the book back over to Kabru. Kabru feels like sighing in relief, but he doesn’t dare make any sort of indication as to what he’s thinking or feeling. He’s rooted in place still, wondering if he should start heading back or not.

Laios doesn’t quite seem to know what to do next either. He’s still just standing there, maybe contemplating what to say. It’s silent for a few moments, the two of them just standing there, facing each other in the dark.

“How do you feel about monsters?” Laios finally speaks up.

Kabru hates monsters. Monsters are violent disgusting beasts that kill people without rhyme or reason. If he could, he wouldn’t be anywhere near them, but he has to in order to kill them; kill them before they can kill others like they did at Utaya.

He doesn’t say that aloud though because something about Laios’ question makes him think. It’s phrased casually, but there’s an undertone to it that makes it seem like Laios is looking for a specific answer. He thinks if he answers it correctly, he could get closer to Laios, weeks early than planned.

Most people hate monsters, it’s only natural. Monsters kill humans of all races, what reason is there to like them? Logically, the answer should be something like “I hate them” or maybe even a more passionate and detailed answer regarding his distaste for them, but then again, is Laios Touden most people?

“Sorry, can you say that again?” Kabru asks. He heard him perfectly well the first time, but maybe if he pays close attention the second time, he can figure out what Laios is thinking.

“Uh, I think I said what do you think about monsters?” Laios answers, sounding unsure of himself. That was in fact, not what he asked the first time. “It’s just…you were reading a monster book where nobody else could see,” He continues. “I’m just curious why you’d do something like that.”

Kabru’s heart skips a beat. Oh shit, is he on to him? Does he know Kabru is not some experienced adventurer, but rather a novice has barely scraped his way to the third floor with a party of his own? Does he know that Kabru has spent a ridiculous amount of money on revival fees because he’s died to monsters so many times before? Does he know that Kabru really doesn’t know what he’s doing in this dungeon?

Kabru is usually good at thinking of quick excuses on the spot, but he’s completely out of his depth right now. He doesn’t know what Laios is thinking. He doesn’t know the right words to say to Laios. He really doesn’t know anything about him at all. The whole point of trying to get his attention and join his party was to figure that out! And now everything might be ruined, just when they had started!

“I didn’t want to wake anybody up with the light.” Kabru manages eventually, after a suspiciously long and awkward pause.

“But why a monster book?” Laios asks. He wonders if he could sneak away or hit Laios over the head and then, in the morning, convince him it was a dream. Shit, he’s so screwed. “Sorry if it’s personal, I won’t tell anybody.”

“I was reading about monsters because…it’s-they’re…interesting.” Kabru tries. He has a feeling that answer won’t be enough for Laios. Laios, instead of pressing more, is dead silent for a few moments. Kabru wonders if that was the wrong answer.

“You like reading about monsters too?” Laios asks. Like is absolutely not the word he’d use to describe it, but it’s the word Laios would use, so Kabru has to agree with it. If he pretends to have something in common with him, Laios should open up to him.

“I do.” Kabru lies.

“Oh.” Laios says. Kabru is unable to tell what that’s supposed to mean, which causes him to panic internally. He thought he answered what Laios wanted. Did he say the wrong thing? “You-do you like monsters?”

A normal human would ask a question like that in a shocked and derogatory tone because it’s strange and appalling to like something like a monster. Laios asks it in a way that sounds shocked, but it doesn’t sound like he means anything bad by asking it. He seems genuinely curious and Kabru isn’t sure what to make of that.

“Why do you ask?” Kabru decides to deflect.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Laios asks, possibly deflecting his deflect.

“Of course.” The more he learns about Laios, the better.

“I’ve never told anybody this before, but I really love monsters.” Love? Monsters? “I love the way they look, the way they sound, the way they live. I’m really curious about them, I think they’re really cool.” Laios admits.

At first, he’s relieved because Laios was not onto him and he really just wanted to tell him this. Then, Kabru thinks that’s the weirdest thing he’s ever heard anybody say. He wonders why Laios feels that way. Did a monster save him as a child? Actually, a better question would be: did he get hit over the head as a child. How could Laios see anything worth loving in monsters?

Kabru has so many other questions. He feels like he understands Laios even less than he did before. There’s only one way to figure it all out.

“I never thought I’d meet someone who feels the same way.” The lie feel clunky on his tongue. The implication that he loves monsters leaves a sour taste in his mouth, it feels wrong to even imply such a thing, even if it’s not true.

Laios looks at Kabru as if he is every star in the sky, a strip of the universe folded neatly into the shape of a human. Kabru feels immensely relieved. It seems as if that had been the best possible thing he could have said.

“I have a monster book too.” The blonde says quickly. He fishes the book out of the neck piece of his armor. “Can you make a light again?”

That’s probably a good idea, squinting at Laios in the dark is exhausting. Kabru murmurs a few words under his breath, causing a small light to spark to life once again.

Kabru is surprised to see Laios’ book looks like a children’s picture book. It also looks like a cookbook? He wonders what to say first about it.

“I can show you some pages.” Laios says, getting close to Kabru’s side so that their shoulders are touching, and opening the book up in between them.

The pages are covered in small notes. Curiously, the notes seem to be strategically placed to ensure they didn’t overlap with the original text or images. The pages have recipes and flavors on them, making Kabru almost entirely sure it is a cookbook.

“Is that a cookbook?” He asks, amused.

“Yeah!”

Kabru wants to laugh at how absurd this all is. He’s finally talking to Laios and it’s going like this? Laios loves monsters and Kabru is pretending that’s how he feels too. And now Laios wants to eat monsters too? And his basis for monster cuisine is in a children’s book? It would be funny if Kabru wasn’t going to have to pretend that’s what he wants too.

“That’s really cool.” Kabru smiles as he lies. “I’d love to try some sometime.”

“You know,” Laios starts, a glint in his eyes, “we might be able to right now.” Laios animatedly flips through the pages and Kabru can feel his heart sink in his chest.

“This section is for the second floor.” The blonde tells him, slowly flipping through the pages so Kabru can see them. Kabru wearily eyes the contents. He’s got to say something to deter him.

“But how would we eat monsters if we can’t cook them?” Kabru tries. He thinks that’s one of the weirdest things he’s ever said, just about every single sentence he’s said in this conversation is one of the weirdest things he’s ever said.

“Hmm.” Laios goes, scrunching up his face in thought. Kabru thinks he’s safe, but then Laios lights up. “Man-Eating Plant salad.” He says, holding up the page. “You don’t have to cook salad.”

“That’s so nice and convenient that you found a monster that you don’t have to cook.” Kabru says optimistically, but really he feels the exact opposite. He wonders if it’s too late to hit Laios over the head and run.

“I know, right? I’m pretty sure there are some Man-Eating Plants just over here.” Laios says, standing up and tucking the monster cookbook back into his armor. He motions for Kabru to come with him and Kabru reluctantly follows. Kabru desperately hopes that Laios is wrong and there are no Man-Eating Plants.

Very disappointingly, Laios is correct. There are lots of Man-Eating Plants, actually. Kabru hopes he can sneak away when Laios isn’t looking.

“With all these, it might be difficult to pick off just one.” Laios remarks, turning back to look directly at him. So much for getting away.

“Should we go back then?” Kabru asks, sounding like he’s asking a genuine question, but really feeling immensely desperate.

Laios doesn’t say anything right away. He looks over at the plant monsters, which are softly illuminated by the light spell. His eyes are following a small monster that creeps near the Man-Eating Plants. Kabru watches too, trying to figure out what he thinks is so interesting.

The small monster reaches for a fruit and yanks it off. It begins to nibble on it. The Man-Eating Plant which the fruit had come from grabs it with its vines and traps it. The small monster cries out and squirms, but it is snared too tightly to escape.

“Oh!” Laios says, excited once again. “Those fruits seem like they come off really easily!” That’s what conclusion he got from that?

“How would we even get them?” Kabru asks, dread settling in his stomach.

“I could distract them while you grab a fruit. If you grab it as sneakily and as quickly as you can, there shouldn’t be any problems, but if they do get you, I could cut you down.” Laios says confidently. Kabru wants to try and point out a flaw, but it is very unfortunately a solid plan.

“Alright.” Kabru says, accepting his fate because clearly nothing can deter Laios from eating monsters. He slips off his armor to be quieter and neatly stacks it in a pile. The two of them quietly approach the Man-Eating Plans.

Kabru creeps closer while Laios stays back. Kabru steps low and quiet until he’s reached the monster fruits. He tries to pluck one off, but it is, unlike Laios had exclaimed earlier, very difficult to pull off. The Man-Eating Plant shifts above him. Kabru swears in his mind.

Suddenly, Laios starts making a bunch of weird whistling noises and waving his arms around. Kabru stares at him in disbelief and wonders what the absolute fuck that man is doing. Kabru then remembers he’s supposed to get the fruit and go. He pulls out a knife, slices it off, and then bolts away.

He thinks he’s made it, he’s almost back to where Laios is at a safe distance, when suddenly he’s pulled off the ground.

“Laios!” He calls out as he’s being pulled further and further from the ground.

“Hold on!” Laios shouts back, running past him. Kabru bitterly wonders if Laios is going to leave him to die. Maybe Laios was someone who was cold and selfish all along and, even though he was interesting, there was nothing worthy about him at all.

Then, the vines unfurl and Kabru starts to fall. Laios starts rushing back his direction again, awkwardly sheathing his sword as he goes. He holds out his arms as if to catch Kabru, but Kabru hits the ground about a half a minute before he even gets over there. It wasn’t too bad of a fall, nothing is broken, maybe not even bruised, but it still hurt.

As he sits up, he realizes he still has the monster fruit in his arms. He’d have thought it would’ve gotten crushed, but no, it’s practically in perfect condition. He really can’t escape this, can he?

“Are you hurt?” Laios asks him.

“No.” Kabru says.

“That’s good.” He looks at the damned monster fruit still in Kabru’s arms. “The fruit! You saved it! Nice job, uh...you.” Laios says awkwardly as if he was going to say Kabru’s name but had drawn up a blank.

“Did you forget my name?” Kabru asks him.

“…No?” Laios says, very obviously lying. Kabru doesn’t know why he expected Laios of all people to remember his name. Laios didn’t know Toshiro’s name despite knowing him for months, after all.

“I’m Kabru.” The dark haired man reintroduces himself.

“Kabru.” Laios repeats, trying to familiarize himself with his name. He’s silent for a moment, then says, “Hey, now that I think about it, we don’t have any bowls, so it would be kind of hard to make salad.”

Kabru is a little pissed they did all that for nothing, but he thinks he could pass out from relief at the fact they aren’t in fact going to eat monsters.

“We can still have the fruit though! Fruit is pretty tasty on its own!” Laios says cheerily. Kabru wonders why he even bothered getting his hopes up. He makes a mental note that Laios is awfully resilient and good at problem solving, for better or for worse, though in this case it’s for worse. “Can you give me that fruit? I’m gonna cut it in half.”

Kabru defeatedly hands him the fruit and goes to put his gear back on. Laios places the fruit on the ground and slices it with his sword. Laios did a terrible job of cutting it in half, it looks much more like seventy-thirty than fifty-fifty, but Kabru can’t complain when Laios gives him the smaller piece.

“You can try it first.” Kabru says because if anybody is dying tonight from food poisoning from eating monster fruit, it’s not going to be Kabru.

Laios takes a big bite out of the fruit. “This is really good!” Laios says with a mouth full of fruit. “It’s like sweet, but then sort of sour? It sort of tastes like a normal fruit, though. I expected it to taste different since it’s from a monster.” He sounds sad when he says those last two sentences.

Kabru watches him warily. He doesn’t seem to be dying or having any sort of side effect. Plus if it were like a normal fruit, it shouldn’t be so bad. Besides, the fruit is from a monster, not a monster itself, so it’s really not that weird to be eating it, right? Laios is looking at him expectantly.

Kabru waits a few seconds, just in case Laios suddenly falls over and dies. He does not. He seems completely normal and healthy, in fact. Kabru is unfortunately forced to take a small bite of the fruit (that isn’t a monster and is barely even related to monsters at all and is almost just like a normal fruit). It’s overwhelmingly sweet at first, but then it does have a sort of tangy aftertaste. It vaguely reminds him of pineapple.

“It’s nice.” He says, taking another small bite of the totally normal fruit. It’s pretty good, actually. Laios has almost eaten half of his fruit piece already.

“Do you think the flavor is different depending on what the Man-Eating Plants eat?” Laios wonders aloud. “Like if it was eating lots of giant rats, do you think it would gradually adjust the flavor to more effectively attract them? Maybe this is some monster’s favorite type of fruit and that’s why they taste like this.” Kabru feels like spitting out the fruit after being crudely reminded of its monster origins, but he manages to swallow it.

“You think the flavor is like this because it’s some monster’s favorite?” Kabru asks him, amused.

“Well, it had to have been liked by something the Man-Eating Plants eat.” Laios reasons. “Maybe it’s a combination of flavors that multiple monsters liked to attract more of them! That could be why it’s sweet and sour!” He’s talking quickly and his pupils are dilated, he seems to be really enjoying this conversation. Well, it could hardly be called a conversation when Laios is doing all the talking and Kabru is just nodding along. He rambles a bit more, cutting himself off occasionally to bite the fruit.

Laios finishes his fruit and looks up at the dark sky. “We should probably go back soon.”

“Good idea.” Kabru stands up, abandoning his barely eaten fruit. He really wants to rush off back to the camp, go to sleep, and pretend this wasn’t as weird as it was. He walks slowly next to Laios, though.

“That was fun.” Laios says. He’s looking at Kabru like he wants him to say something.

“Yeah, it was really nice.” Kabru half lies. He was glad he got to find out more about Laios, but he didn’t enjoy being attacked by a monster and then eating monster fruit.

Laios is still looking at him funny, like he wants him to say something else. Kabru is unsure what Laios wants from him.

“Uhm.” Laios says, stopping a little bit before the camp. Kabru stops as well, looking at him curiously. Laios is still giving him that weird look.

“What is it?” Kabru decides to ask instead.

“Well, that was fun right?” Laios repeats himself, awkwardly.

“Yes?” Kabru repeats his response, but in a more concise and confused manner.

“So…maybe we could do something like that again? Well, there’s probably not gonna be anything like Man-Eating Plants on lower levels, but maybe we could just look at monsters? Or talk about them?” Laios asks shyly. Kabru is struck again by how weird this all is.

“That sounds great. Let’s do that.” Kabru says with a smile. Laios looks like he’s going to say something, but he ends up just smiling and nodding.

He starts walking back to the camp again. Kabru follows. The shorter of the two dissipates the light again as they get closer.

“Goodnight, Laios.” He says as they reach the cave.

“Yeah.” Laios says in response as he heads over to his bedroll. Kabru wonders if Laios even heard what he said. He hears Laios snoring softly not even a minute after, so maybe he was just really tired.

Kabru settles into his own bedroll and stares up at the ceiling, thinking about what just happened.

Kabru hates monsters, he’s always hated monsters and always will, but he’s so intensely curious about Laios’ affection for them. He just has to know, he needs to know, why and how Laios sees them like that. Laios loves monsters, but he kills them. He loves monsters, but he wants to eat them. It’s a unique type of adoration that Kabru can’t connect with anything else. It’s fascinating.

Sleep catches up with Kabru eventually. His eyes are heavy with drowsiness and his head heavy with thoughts of Laios’ feelings about monsters. As he drifts off, he finds himself thinking not about why Laios likes monsters, but rather what had happened in an entirely non-analytical manner, he was just simply recalling the fresh memory.

He closes his eyes and sees himself sitting down in the grass, with only the small light illuminating himself and Laios, the taste of sweet and sour (not technically monster) fruit in his mouth, and the sound of Laios excitedly rambling on about…well, monsters. He couldn’t really avoid the subject of monsters when it came to Laios, but that’s good. Kabru is figuring out what he likes and what he’s thinking, he’s making so much progress with him.

Even if Laios is rambling about things like the taste of monsters, everything is going smoothly, in Kabru’s favor. He’s on the right track so things aren’t so bad. When he thinks about it like that, it’s almost pleasant.

Kabru is figuring things out, figuring Laios out, figuring out if he’s worthy of conquering the dungeon. Kabru will decode him and, when he does, then maybe everything will be alright. Maybe Laios will be a good person, conquer the dungeon, and become a good king, with Kabru supporting him every step of the way. Of course, Kabru will be prepared to face whatever reality he’s met with, but, just for a moment, it’s nice to dream.