#I’D DIE FOR THEM I REALLY REALLY WOULD <3
Note
hello love! I just, like, devoured all your writings today and idk if your requests are open, but I really like seer!reader and I was wondering if I could request one with poly!marauders where reader is a slytherin and she has a vision of befriending them or being in a relationship with them?
I’d imagined she thinks it’s a silly vision at first but the more she sees the boys (as she’s friends with Regulus so is bound to run into them with him), the visions occur more and more until she finally has an official interaction with them and officially meets them.
Idk if that’s too complicated/confusing, if so, you don’t have to write it obviously 😅.
I love Seer reader!!! thanks for your request lovie <3
please note: my requests are currently closed as I finish exams and work through the requests that I currently have.
poly!marauders x Seer Slytherin fem!reader who Sees a relationship with them
“Tell me again why I have to sit at the Gryffindor table for lunch?” You protested as Regulus all but dragged you to the Great Hall and Barty skipped merrily-on ahead.
“Because I have to sit at the Gryffindor table for lunch.” He answered gruffly, strengthening his hold on your arm as you faltered in your steps.
“I don’t know, babes; have you ever considered just killing him? You wouldn’t have to reconnect with your estranged brother if he was dead.” Barty offered nonchalantly.
“For the last time, Barty, I am not killing my brother.”
“A decision we’re all suffering for, apparently.” You muttered petulantly as you entered the Great Hall; chatter and the sounds of cutlery and tableware permeating your senses.
“Don’t worry, Treasure. The faster we eat the faster we can get away.” Barty offered in consolation.
“I am not doing the heimlich on you again, Barty.” You groaned as you followed Regulus towards the wrong side of the Great Hall.
“Come on, they’re not that bad.” Regulus tried.
You and Barty both stopped to give him unimpressed glares.
“Lupin’s not that bad.” He corrected.
“Yeah, and then he ruins that by the company he keeps.” You grumble as you plopped yourself down unceremoniously at the Red and Gold table across from your three lunch dates for the day.
Listen, you were all for being a good friend, a supportive friend; you would die for Regulus Black.
You’re not sure that support extended to willingly eating lunch with Gryffindor’s.
But Regulus was determined to mend his relationship with his brother before Sirius graduated, Barty went just about anywhere Regulus went, and apparently you were single-handedly responsible for Regulus’ general sanity when it came to his brother and Barty.
“Hello Reggie!” Sirius called quickly.
“Don’t call me that.”
“What am I supposed to call you?” His brother bit back slightly less brightly.
“I call him sugar tits but I don’t think that’s universal.” Barty offered as he started loading up his plate.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Junior.” James offered cautiously.
“I bet it is, Potter.”
Sirius sighed as if he’d been dealing with the likes of toddlers all morning and not 37 seconds of Barty Crouch Junior. “The polite thing to say would be ‘it’s nice to see you too, James’.”
Barty froze with his fork half way to his mouth as he furrowed his brows at Sirius. “No it wouldn’t; it’s not polite to lie, Black.”
“I brought another friend you can try to converse with.” Regulus spat hastily.
“Pretend I’m not here; that’s what I’m doing.” You sighed as you resigned yourself to your fate.
“Well, this is off to a good start.” Remus said with a smirk as he flipped a page in his book.
You did suppose Lupin was the least…abrasive of him and his boyfriends. You’d had a chance to get to know him last year during prefect rounds; and while you didn’t appreciate how much he let his fellow Marauders get away with, he was relatively nice. In fact, if he had been in any house other than Gryffindor, you may have given him a chance.
His boyfriend’s, though?
You’d rather take your chances with the Giant Squid than spend your lunch hour with them.
Were they attractive? Sure. You may be contemptuous, but you weren’t blind.
But they always seemed to be on; there was never a moment of silence with those two nearby, and you often found yourself bracing for impact whenever they were around.
“Looking as smashing as ever, L/N.” James said as he shot you a wink.
Case in point.
“If I threw a stick, you’d leave right?” You sneered and turned towards your sandwich.
“Nice!” Barty cheered at the same time as Remus muttered “easy kitten; play nice.”
You started to feel the familiar sensation of your consciousness being pulled elsewhere. It felt as though you were being submerged under cold water, and the neurons firing in your brain were being gently lifted and ushered towards a new reality.
“What’s wrong dollface?” Sirius asked you earnestly.
You sucked in a shaky breath as you tried to hide the trembling in your hands. “I just don’t feel very good.” You whispered, not trusting your voice to get through a sentence without sobbing.
“Oh, my poor girl. Come here sweets.” He repositioned himself from laying on his stomach to sitting cross legged and opening his arms in invitation.
You quickly accepted his offer and curled up in his lap as he wrapped protective arms around you and began to rock you back and forth.
“You’re okay, dolly. You’re just fine.” He murmured with his lips pressed to your hair line. “D’ya wanna stay here with me and the boys tonight?”
You let out a pathetically embarrassing keening sound as you nodded quickly.
“Okay baby; consider it done.”
You sucked in a horrified breath as your consciousness returned and you were once again assaulted by the noises of the Great Hall.
Regulus quickly caught the glass of pumpkin juice you’d just nearly toppled and was holding your wrist tightly in his hand.
You thanked the deities for his seeker reflexes and that he seemed to already know what had happened; this was a relatively routine practice between the two of you this far along in your friendship.
“You’re okay.” He offered without even sparing you a glance as he took a napkin with his free hand to clean up what little you’d spilled.
He kept your wrist in his grip; tracking your pulse as he waited for your heart rate to slow down.
“Was it a good one!?” Barty asked excitedly, alerting you to the fact that it wasn’t just you and Regulus sitting here.
You looked up horrified to see Remus, James, and Sirius all looking at you with various levels of concerns.
“Was what a good one?” Sirius asked bemusedly.
Barty scoffed derisively. “She’s a Seer, Black. Fuck, you’re thick.”
“Barty.” Regulus scolded as he turned to offer you his full attention.
“Are you really?” James asked at the same time as Regulus asked “what did you See?”
“I have to go.” You muttered breathlessly as you grabbed your things and headed towards the exit.
“No fair! Why does she get to leave and I don’t!?” You heard Barty whine as you pushed through the doors to the courtyard.
You were going insane, surely. This was just a bout of madness. You needed psychological help, like one of those muggle mind healers. You could not seriously be having Sights of you dating the Marauders.
“Hey L/N!”
“Fucking hells!” You shrieked as you spun to see Remus and James approaching you, the latter having been the one to call your name.
James still had his ever present smile on his face whilst Remus approached you with slightly more caution.
“Not happy to see us?” Remus asked with a soft smirk across his face.
“I…well,”
Apparently your bumbling was particularly telling to your current mental state, if their furrowed brows and nervous glances to each other were anything to go by.
“No funny quip for us today? You’re not going to tell me that I look like something you could draw with your left hand?” James taunted.
“Go fuck yourself, Potter.” You said with half the amount of derision you’d intended.
“Why? You wanna watch him?” Remus asked.
Okay, everything you ever said about Remus being not as bad as his boyfriends?
Lies.
“For Salazar’s sake, L/N; you sure know how to pick ‘em, huh?” Avery sneered from behind you.
“Speak when you’re spoken to, fuck face.” You barked back.
Avery only scoffed in response.
“Hanging out with Baby Black and his crazy pet that follows him around wasn’t enough; you had to sully yourself with the likes of Gryffindor’s?” Mulciber continued for him.
“You know, I’d be mad too if I looked like someone who has fallen for every MLM scam known to mankind.” James spat; his face taking on a severity you’d never seen from the notoriously sunny-dispositioned boy.
You wondered what else you hadn’t seen from him.
You made a rather hasty and embarrassing retreat after that gave you some…inappropriate thoughts.
You’d been plagued with more Sights since then, having been avoiding them after more images of them fussing and fawning over you (and - perhaps more horrifyingly - you over them), and then out-and-out hiding from them after a particularly… steamy Sight you had.
“You cannot hide in the Slytherin common room forever, Treasure.” Barty sighed as he plopped down beside you on the couch and rested his head on your shoulder.
“Why not?”
“Because Regulus gave them the password to the common room.”
“He what!?” You shrieked as the door opened and in spilled three Gryffindors and one Slytherin.
“There you are, angel!” James cheered as he quickly made his way towards you.
Already with the pet names!?
“Did you really think you could hide from us, dollface?” Sirius winked as he and James took the settee across from you (causing a few younger year Slytherin’s to quickly vacate the area).
“Regulus, how could you?” You seethed at your now ex-friend.
“I’m tired of Barty bailing on me to hide out here with you. Also, I’m not a house elf and will no longer be bringing you your meals.”
You pouted at him before a surprised yelp left your lips as you were lifted up from your seat.
Remus took your place on the sofa and placed you in the space between his thighs.
“Lupin! What are you doing!?”
“Making your dreams come true, gorgeous.” Sirius answered for you.
“They’re not dreams, you absolute mumpsimus. They’re visions of the future.” Barty sneered.
“Even better then.” James continued as he now pulled a scowling Sirius into his side. “We’re starting our future together.”
“You told them!?” You asked Regulus disbelievingly.
“Well you weren’t going to.”
“That was the point!”
“Easy there, dove.” Remus whispered into your ear, causing a shiver to rack through you as your body traitorously melted further into Remus’ embrace.
The only way out of this was clearly going to be the death of you (via Remus’ smoothness, James’ loveliness, and Sirius’ boldness), their murders (at your hands), or stupidly drunk in love.
You weren’t sure which option was worse.
#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter#poly!marauders#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x you#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#james potter x reader#james potter x you#bartylus#regulus black#barty crouch jr#seer!reader#ellecdc fics
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frat!miggy headcannons !!
frat!miguel masterlist
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sfw !!
frat!miguel is the type to giggle and kick his feet up in the air when you tell him simple things like ‘i am so proud of you, baby’ or ‘look at how handsome you are, my big boy!’
frat!miguel gets jealous of small things. your fictional crushes. your girlfriends. your pet. your back spotter in the cheerleading team. gloria.
frat!miguel is also protective. very. to an extent where even you’re only standing five feet away from him at a party, his eyes will be locked in on you. arms crossed, nodding along to whatever his friend is saying in front of him. smiling like a lovesick puppy when he sees you laugh.
frat!miguel who would in seconds, kneel to tie your shoes when they see them undone. you don’t even have to ask.
frat!miguel plugs into his laptop, spending hours on his free time to look up cheerleading sports when both of you started dating. learning about the rules, routines, physical training, winning teams, tumblings, pyramids, etc. why, you ask? no idea.
frat!miguel is your own personal scary dog privilege. there is nothing about this man a golden retriever. especially at the gym. since you love wearing tight shorts and sports bra on leg days, he would stand a few feet apart behind. glaring to those who stares at his girlfriend’s juicy butt.
frat!miguel brings you flowers every weekend and send ones for your mother too. every once a week he goes out to play ball with your dad too. the man is surprised at how well your dad could throw.
frat!miguel who keeps stashes of condoms in his ‘special’ drawer since you stay over almost every day at the frat house. he figures that it’s better to be prepared than nothing. when really, he’s just one horny motherfucker.
frat!miguel who is so damn clingy that you have no clue on how to deal with it anymore. you could send this man a text of ‘bye, talk to you later, baby’ because you’re leaving for practice and he would spam you with
my miggy<3 : what? no!
my miggy<3 : wdym bye?!
my miggy<3 : princesa please don’t leave me!!!
my miggy<3 : i’d die💔💔💔
my miggy<3 : omg pleasepleaseplease come back
my miggy<3 : so you’re just going to let me die:(
frat!miguel who spends almost his entire junior and senior being fawned and gushed by other girls that he didn’t even think for a second to actually try. but for you? ask him to get you the moon, and he gives you saturn
frat!miguel asks you one day if he could be your boyfriend. not the other way around. not ‘can you be my girlfriend?’ because he’s threading lightly and he needs your permission
—
nsfw !!
frat!miguel is a large, large, man. he’s jacked bro. 6’9 and built like a damn linebacker. he’s big down there too, so it did take some time for you to get used to his size
frat!miguel loves fucking you. to no end. his stamina could go on for hours and he’s lucky enough to have you as his perfect match. ‘always fuck like damn rabbits’ is a review from glen
frat!miguel doesn’t care about whereabouts. if he’s horny and needed you, then you better get to it! (but of course, only if you’re comfortable)
frat!miguel prefers taking you from behind, he loooves seeing your ass bounce against him. it makes him lose his mind. guaranteed that it would be hard enough for him to last
frat!miguel is a sucker for eating your pussy. day and night, this man could have it for his five course meal. he loves it when you’re sitting on a chair, legs spread and tucked upwards while he’s just on his knees lapping at your cunt
frat!miguel loves having control but even more when you’re in charge. bouncing on his dick, not allowing him to touch you while rather just let him watch your tight pussy swallowing his cock.
frat!miguel gets off to your moans. they’re like music to his ears. how could one be so angelic and pornographic at the same time, shits crazy.
frat!miguel who has a breeding kink. he would go on about how he’s willing to knock you up during fucking, whispering in your ear that he’s going to put a baby in you.
frat!miguel is obsessed with your mouth. the head you give is top notch. you could do so much shit with your tongue around his cock than half of the girls he had before with their hands.
frat!miguel who’s lock-screen wallpaper is a selfie of you in the shower. hair wet, one arm covering your tits, puckered lips and doe eyes at the camera. head tilting to the side. it’s one you sent when he had texted you ‘what’s my girl doing today?’ during football practice. you look so damn cute and sexy, he just had to do it.
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Shibuya Swap Wednesday #8. The fic is currently 14 chapters and 78k and far from over. Turns out that when I sprinkle in bits of self-indulgent plot in Part 1, I'll have to follow through in Part 3.
Yay.
This is entirely SFW, somehow—canon!Yuuji meeting Chōsō after alt!Yuuji sorted out the whole brother business. Gojou's there to, uh, supervise.
“I’d like to have some time alone with my brother.”
“And I’d like your shared parent’s head on a platter, but only one of those is gonna happen.”
“You intend to hunt down Kamo Noritōshi.”
“Well, he’s going by another name right now. You’re familiar with it.” There’s an edge to Gojou’s voice that makes Yuuji crane his head to look at him. But Gojou’s staring right at Chōsō, his eyes gleaming behind the shades. “But not for long. Yuuji—the one from Shibuya, not my cute little student—said you have an ability to sense family via a blood connection. Can you track that parasite using it?”
Chōsō blinks, looking nonplussed. “It…doesn’t work that way. And I can only sense my siblings, not our parent.”
Yuuji can feel Gojou shrug, their bodies close enough for it.
“Worth a shot, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll find them myself,” he says, and two heavy hands come to rest on Yuuji’s shoulders. “Meanwhile, we need to figure out what to do about you. I wanted to see your reaction to Yuuji—”
“I feel like a lab rat, sensei.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Chōsō here is the lab rat,” Gojou replies without missing a beat. “You’re not violent. Or you’re one hell of an actor. Either way, it’s not enough. You know why, don’t you?”
Chōsō nods very slowly. “I understand.”
Yuuji looks between the two of them, but Chōsō’s somber expression is as unhelpful as Gojou’s bland smile.
“Sensei?” Yuuji prods. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”
“I want to tell you many things, Yuuji,” comes the unhelpful answer. “But I’m not sure now’s the right time. What do you think, Yuuji’s new big bro?”
Chōsō looks a little like he’d like to strangle Gojou. But under and over that, there’s an emotion Yuuji’s all too familiar with—guilt.
“I killed people,” he says, “at Shibuya. There’s good reason your teacher doesn’t trust you with me.”
“Honest to a fault, huh,” Gojou mutters.
Yuuji doesn’t say anything. He’s not very surprised. Gojou didn’t tell him details of how Yuuji’s other self rescued him, but he did say they Chōsō was among the people who trapped him. And Yuuji saw the state of the station. He could make an educated guess or two about what was in store for the civilians there.
It doesn’t make it better. It doesn’t make it right.
“You’re angry,” Chōsō says without surprise.
“Yuuji,” Gojou says, squeezing Yuuji’s shoulder, “is a very good boy.”
“Sensei,” Yuuji sighs. “Of course I’m angry. Innocent people didn’t deserve to die because the lot of you wanted Gojou-sensei out of the way.”
“No,” comes Chōsō’s quiet agreement. “They did not.”
“But—” Yuuji pulls his hand out from under Chōsō’s and steps away from Gojou too, putting some distance between himself and both men. “But your brothers didn’t deserve to die either. It was us or them, and I chose us. I don’t regret it, but that doesn’t make it right. I’m angry about what you did, but you should be pissed at me too.”
Chōsō’s expression does something that Yuuji can’t even begin to parse. Gojou looks an odd cross between amused and exasperated.
“Sometimes, Yuuji,” Gojou tells him, “you’re too noble for your own good.”
“I’m really not—”
“Thank you, Yuuji,” Chōsō cuts in, his voice quiet but choked; his eyes are suspiciously shiny. “But I meant what I said. Esō and Kechizu would never have fought you if they’d known the truth. You didn’t know either. They’d forgive you. It’s what brothers do.”
Yuuji shifts in place, with no idea how to respond to that. The sincerity in Chōsō’s voice threatens to choke him too.
Gojou has no such issues: “You know, I’ve never been unhappy I’m an only child, but I feel especially glad right now.”
“Sensei, don’t be mean,” Yuuji chides. “Please ignore him, Chōsō-san.”
“Don’t call me that,” Chōsō says, eyes all wide again. “Just Chōsō is fine. Or you could call me big bro—”
“Nope,” Gojou says.
“I wasn’t talking to you, Gojou Satoru.”
Gojou’s grin widens dangerously.
Yuuji closes the scant distance he put between himself and the other two, slotting himself between Gojou and the couch, directly in front of Chōsō.
“Chōsō,” Yuuji says firmly. “Sensei. Behave.”
“Scary,” Gojou whispers dramatically, leaning against Yuuji’s back. “Well, you two seem like you’ll get along fine. Very compatible crazy. But for now, you need to go back to sleep, Chōsō.”
“Huh, why?” Yuuji asks, looking up at Gojou and nearly slamming his head into his jaw; Gojou smoothly avoids the collision, resting his chin on Yuuji’s head instead.
Chōsō’s eyes have narrowed, as severe as the set of his mouth. “I’d also like to know why.”
“I don’t trust you,” Gojou says plainly. “I’m willing to tolerate you for Yuuji’s sake, but at present, we can’t let a special-grade curse—or a grade-one sorcerer, if that’s the path you want to choose—run around unchecked. We don’t have the manpower to safely contain you either, not until the mess you and your friends made is all cleaned up. Sleep or die, those are your choices.” There’s a pregnant pause and then— “Sorry about this, Yuuji.”
“I…don’t think I’m the one you should be saying that to, sensei.”
“That so?” Gojou asks, his voice dangerously mild. “So, what do you say, Yuuji’s brand-new brother?”
Chōsō’s expression is blank, in a severe kind of way. The shadows under his eyes seem darker, and the eyes themselves are pools of near-black, fixed unwaveringly on Yuuji.
He says, “I won’t ever hurt you.”
Yuuji blinks. “Thanks? I wasn’t worried though?”
“Unfortunately,” Gojou says, “your brother complex isn’t enough of a guarantee right now. Don’t worry. Once I’m back, you’ll have a very generous chance to be on your best behavior.”
“What happens to Yuuji in the meantime?”
“Nothing.” One of Gojou’s arms slides around Yuuji’s middle, just as his chin is lifted from Yuuji’s head, and then he’s being tucked against Gojou, snug and secure. All of Yuuji grows pleasantly hot. “Only a few others know about Yuuji’s connection to you and the parasite, and all of them are more invested in Yuuji’s safety than the rules. He’ll be fine, and as long as you behave, there won’t even be any complications.”
“I don’t think you need to keep threatening him, sensei,” Yuuji ventures. “I mean, you made your point.”
There’s a deep sigh, Gojou’s chest moving against Yuuji’s back. It feels so big like this. Gojou feels so big, like he could swallow up the world.
Yuuji tries not to think of this morning, of being tangled up in warmth and safety, of being touched—
“You have no flair for the dramatics Yuuji,” Gojou says mournfully. “The least you can do is appreciate mine.”
Yuuji pats the arm wrapped around him. “I do appreciate you.”
“You trust him.” Chōsō’s voice is very quiet, but it cuts through the air.
And it’s not a question, but Yuuji still says, “With my life.”
Gojou’s arm tightens.
“I see,” Chōsō says with a gravity that makes Yuuji’s spine snap straight; Gojou moves with him, accommodating the motion. “Then I choose to sleep, for now, Gojou Satoru.”
“Wise,” Gojou says softly. “Lie down then. This won’t hurt.”
Chōsō’s expression darkens like he doesn’t really believe that.
“It doesn’t,” Yuuji chimes in. “Promise. It really just feels like going to sleep.”
Chōsō’s eyes flit to him and stay, and Yuuji can see Chōsō soften all over. It’s a bit disconcerting. There’s so much there that Yuuji doesn’t even understand. He’s an only child.
He still feels like one. He can’t much imagine that changing despite Chōsō’s existence.
“I’m not worried about pain,” Chōsō says very gently. “But thank you, Yuuji. Please be safe.”
“Sure. I’ll, uh, do that.” He flashes Chōsō a thumbs up. “Good night?”
Gojou snorts and steps away from Yuuji, circling around the couch to kind of…loom at Chōsō.
To his credit, Chōsō doesn’t give anything away, though Yuuji can’t imagine he’s not unsettled. He can’t imagine ever being scared of Gojou, but he’s seen the way his teacher gets sometimes, the way his smile twists under radioactive eyes. He’s seen curses flinch from it.
Chōsō doesn’t flinch. He calmly lies down on the couch, crossing his arms over his stomach. Throughout it all, his gaze stays on Yuuji, flickering away only when two of Gojou’s fingers are inches away from his face.
“Night night,” Gojou chirps, tapping Chōsō’s forehead.
Dark lashes flutter, eyes rolling back. A second later, Chōsō’s face is slack.
“That was fast,” Yuuji whispers.
“It’s more delicate than it looks,” Gojou says in a normal voice. “I was impressed the other Yuuji knew how to do it. I’ll teach you some day. You won’t misuse it, will you?”
Yuuji blinks over at Gojou. “Misuse it how?”
“How innocent,” Gojou practically purrs. “Don’t you know what boys like you would do to a pretty sleeping thing? Or do you want to be the pretty sleeping thing?”
#goyuu#choso kamo#jjk snippets#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#wip wednesday#my fic#fic: how the story changes#divider credit: saradika-graphics
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girlboss gf + babygirl bf gotta be my favorite couple dynamic because it just works so well every single time. also no one does it better than them fr :’)
#I’D DIE FOR THEM I REALLY REALLY WOULD <3#the quarry#the quarry spoilers#the quarry game#the quarry laura#the quarry max#max brinly#laura kearney#laura and max#max and laura
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to whoever was on red team defending badwater last at 2am in the morning: i love you.
3 different teammates immediately chewed out this one pyro that was #1 on the leaderboard for making a slightly nagging comment towards the medic who was literally #2 on the leaderboard anyway.
(The medic was me)
(Thank you for defending my honor)
(Sometimes a found family is a casual badwater last red team and I think that’s beautiful)
#the pyro didn’t even say anything that bad which made it funnier#they still kinda deserved half the team telling them to ‘don’t be mean to med >:(‘#but. yknow. im used to it ig#it was really sweet tho#tf2#tf2 moments#to the other pyro that said ‘med I’d die for you’ I would die for you too <3#also to be clear I had 108 points. it was truly a Game (we lost)
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among us lifesteal au (explodes)
idk if i’ll do anything with this but i really like the idea of it 👍 here’s what i have atm
spoke: imposter (idk if he’d have a specific role yet)
mapicc: imposter & linked with ro
ro: crewmate & linked with mapicc
leo: the executioner
ash: the glitch
cube: the engineer
zam: the detective
clown: the jackal (no sidekick)
jaron: the jester
bacon: the swapper
planet: the shifter (maybe)
rek: crewmate with flash modifier
mid: altruist
clutch: crewmate with button barry modifier
red: crewmate (not sure if he’d have any modifiers)
#van speaks#i really like the thought process for a lot of these#like mapicc & ro have the lovers role (although im hesitant to call it that since i don’t want ppl taking it the wrong way)#but if you’re unfamiliar w modded among us basically they’re linked & if one dies they both die at the same time#so nothing romantic 👍#leo’s the executioner and his target would be red (s3 ref woghh)#<- also why i made mid altruist; leo gets killed by one of the imposters and mid finds his body & revives him only for leo to go after red#which isn’t exactly what happened in s3 but the imposters r the bad guys yknow#detective zam bc ofc yayyy#clown’s the jackal which is a neutral role but works by themselves#and can kill anyone#u can’t tell me that jaron wouldn’t love being the jester#he’s such a little shit /aff please get this guy in a modded among us lobby and get him to be jester#i think bacon would fit swapper well since he’d want to switch people’s votes around either bc he thinks they’re wrong or j to be silly#rek w the flash modifier helps him escape situations faster#i feel like clutch would try to abuse the shit out of button barry to the point everyone gets pissed and votes him off#red would have to be a crewmate since he’s leo’s target but idk if he’d have a modifier#if anyone has any suggestions 4 this i’d love 2 hear them <3#or if there’s any questions abt the roles i feel like i know them decently well <- has watched too much among us
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gonna be fr i don’t think “traditionally/stereotypically feminine” interests should be dunked on at all but also this is exactly the kind of thing that makes me feel insecure about ever having daughters (as someone who wants kids in the next ~6 years). idk why there is this expectation that if you don’t wear makeup/heels/nail polish/do skincare/etc you’re misogynistic and can’t bond with your daughters lol
#my mom didn’t do a lot of this stuff with me either and yknow what i didn’t want her to#i LIKED doing girly stuff with my older cousins and friends#idk anyway. not to have INTERNALIZED MISOGYNY but i am really hoping that#my future daughters inherit my tomboy adjacent highly neurodivergent brain genes so that they don’t resent me for wanting to bond w them#over literally anything that isn’t makeup and heels and bras lol#like. idk i cannot imagine acrually wanting to go bra shopping. i have never done this of my own volition as an adult#and i found it mortifying as a teen#like bra shopping for me is walking into a target and picking out 3 bralettes that could vaguely fit me and that’s it#i would rather die than step foot into a victoria’s secret. i do not know OR care what my actual bra size is beyond a target small/medium#and if my daughter wanted to go or was built diffeeently to me i’d do it for her but i wouldn’t…. specifically set it up as a bonding thing?
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rrggrrAAUAGGHG
#i would love to draw rn guys !!!!#unfortunately there’s people here and i’d rather die than draw in front of them <3#ughggg i hate this class#i can’t think either so i can’t like. distract myself#i’m bored out of my mind we literally did busywork all day too#like i really really just hate this class
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how to disappear. (opla!zoro x fem!reader)
synopsis: joining luffy’s crew made you believe that you’d finally escaped your former pirate crew and nightmare of a captain for good. that is, until a certain butler starts looking a little too familiar. good thing zoro’s keeping a close eye on you.
warnings: opla spoilers (ep 3), some direct dialogue from opla, mentions of verbal/physical abuse, kuro is just a weirdo tbh, reader is called a bitch, protective zoro, for the sake of the story sham and buchie joined the black cat pirates after reader left
word count: 4.7k
“this guy is full of shit.”
you knock your shoulder into zoro’s wider one. “be nice. and so what if he is?”
zoro gives you a pointed glare. “then we should turn around and look for someone who can actually help us find a ship.”
“all business, as per usual,” you reply, with a purposefully dramatic sigh. “why can’t you have a little fun?”
“what about this is supposed to be fun?” zoro spits out the word like it’s poisonous. “this is the blandest village i’ve ever seen.”
you scoff. “now you’re the one that’s full of shit. nothing’s ever bland with us and you know it.”
the us in question was your newly formed pirate crew… if you and luffy could even be considered that. having left the ship you’d been on a few years ago, you were in search of a new crew. luffy was persistent and charming — when you’d crossed paths in shells town, it took little to no time for him to convince you to join his hunt for the one piece. zoro and nami, on the other hand, had yet to follow in your footsteps.
“well, considering that we’ve only been traveling together for a day and a half and i’ve already escaped a marine base, defeated a marine captain, and fought a clown with devil fruit powers… i’d actually have to agree.”
you can’t help but giggle at his sarcastic delivery. “be grateful, zoro. not many pirate crews are this fun to be on, trust me. oh wait, that’s right, you still haven’t officially joined—”
“tell me about your old pirate crew,” interjects zoro, your comment having piqued his interest.
you notice that the playful atmosphere dissipates. “god, where do i even start?”
zoro answers that for you. “why did you leave?”
“starting with the hard hitting questions, huh?” you joke, mostly to stall. you clear your throat before you answer. “well, it was different. nothing like what luffy has going on. he actually cares about his crew… and even those who aren’t technically on it.”
at that, a smile tugs at the corner of zoro’s lips. even you crack a small grin. although as you continue speaking, it fades.
“on my old crew, we were dispensable. anytime something went wrong, our own captain would threaten to kill us. it was… scary, to be completely honest. there were so many times when i thought i’d die with that filthy crew. and i never wanted that. so as soon as we docked at shells town, i left.”
zoro’s jaw clenches as imagines the things you’d seen and been subjected to. “this old captain of yours sounds like a real—”
“he was a nightmare,” you tell him. “he didn’t care that i was the only woman on board, he treated me just as horribly, if not worse.”
zoro stops so suddenly that it takes you a second to realize he’s not walking alongside you.
“what do you mean by that.” the way zoro phrases the inquiry doesn’t even make it sound like a question. more like a demand. his narrowed eyes are fixed solely on you. holding his gaze feels… intense.
you can’t help but glance away as you answer him. “he was just a bit of a creep.”
before zoro has the chance to try and extract more information out of you, a familiar voice calls both your names. you’re not really sure when you and zoro had fallen behind but from where you currently stand, the rest of your group looks miniature. or perhaps it’s just the massive size of the mansion behind them that makes luffy, nami, and usopp look pocket-sized in comparison.
“why’d you stop walking?!” your captain shouts, hands pressed on each side of his mouth to amplify his voice. “get over here, we’re about to go in through the top secret entrance!”
you vaguely make out usopp gesturing for luffy to keep his voice down. you’re sure that would warrant another comment from zoro about his reliability but he’s too busy staring at you with that expectant look in his eyes.
“we better catch up,” you tell him, heading in the direction of the deluxe home.
he allows you to dodge the subject and sighs, walking in long strides to catch up to you.
“i’ve never seen a house this big before,” luffy admits, admiring the mansion along with the wellkept greenery surrounding it.
“awesome, right?” usopp gloats, walking around like he owned the place. “kaya’s given me an open invitation to drop by anytime i want.”
“wow.” you’re not sure if luffy was just going along with usopp’s act or if he really believed him. knowing the devil fruit user, it was more than likely the latter. “all this for just one person?”
“well, she lives here with her butler and a few other staff,” usopp replies, leaning against the stone well that sat in the middle of the lawn.
“money really shows you who people truly are,” nami mutters, eyes scanning the property. “most people only care about themselves and what’s theirs.”
zoro is quick to throw the insult back at her. “sounds like someone i know.”
you roll your eyes at his comment, though you make no effort to disagree with him. nami was a little on the materialistic side.
“and a small staff makes for easy pickings,” she continues, proving your point.
“we just got here and you’re already planning on robbing the place blind?” you ask though you already know the answer.
“at least a little blurry,” she smirks, following behind luffy and usopp who walk toward the entrance.
you and zoro share a look. one that says disappointed but not surprised.
going under a shrub shaped as an arch, you’re met with a beautiful pond. you admire the pink lilies that float at the top and the bushes that were intricately trimmed into the shape of various animals. even if the people that lived here were filthy rich, at least they had good decorative taste.
“so if you have an invitation, why are we going around the back way?” luffy ponders.
usopp’s answer is nonchalant. “oh, i never use the front entrance. like i said, this is the vip entrance reserved for special guests.”
zoro scoffs. “this guy’s definitely–”
“don’t start,” you groan, cutting him off.
abruptly, usopp freezes and spins around, attempting to usher your crew back. “you know what, there’s actually a more exclusive entrance this way–”
the sharp swoosh of a knife cutting through the air and burying itself in the ground between usopp’s feet cuts him off. from the direction the kitchen utensil was thrown stands a heavyset gentleman with his face wrinkled in anger. his demanding voice booms through the garden, “the hell are you doing here, usopp?”
the dark-skinned boy fumbles over his word. “buchi, buddy, uh, kaya’s expecting me.”
“another one of your lies,” the man – seemingly named buchi – seethes, grabbing him by the collar. “you ain’t welcome here and you know it.”
“i know nothing of the sort,” usopp retorts, keeping his cool even when he was practically being lifted off the ground by his shirt. “i’m here to give kaya an extra special gift.”
before buchi can get another word out, a feminine voice calls out for your companion. coming down the steps is a frail looking girl in a pink dress. on her arm is a man dressed in a crisp suit, presumably the butler usopp had mentioned earlier. though, from where you stand you can’t see either of their faces too clearly.
“what a wonderful surprise,” she exclaims, breathlessly.
“kaya!” usopp exclaims, returning her enthusiasm. buchi has no choice but to let him go, begrudgingly. usopp makes sure to shoot him a smug look before walking towards the young girl. “happy birthday.”
the butler clears his throat, not afraid to intrude on their special moment. “usopp, we’ve discussed this before. you mustn’t show up unannounced.”
“nonsense, klahadore.” kaya smiles warmly. “have you come to tell me another story? i do love hearing about your adventures.”
“i’ll do you one better,” usopp smirks with such confidence that even you’re left wondering what kind of surprise he has up his sleeve. “i brought some of my crew!” he gestures back towards the four of you, proudly.
your excitement vanishes. “oh. the surprise is… us.”
“well, that’s boring,” luffy agrees, just as disappointed as you are.
kaya, on the other hand, is none the wiser. “it’s so nice to meet you. you must all stay for dinner.”
klahadore lowers his voice. “miss kaya, it is a bit last minute. i’m afraid the kitchen hasn’t prepared for any extra guests.”
“please,” begs kaya, softly. “it’s my birthday. can’t be too much trouble can it?”
giving in, klahadore purses his lips. “anything for you, miss kaya.”
luffy claps his hands together. “alright! when do we eat?”
“you don’t. not dressed like that, at least.” the butler directs himself to a staff member with teal colored hair. “sham, kindly show usopp and his friends to the guest suites. you will bathe and change before dinner.”
she follows his orders and leads the way. luffy, usopp, nami, and zoro trail behind her and you go to do the same. however, all it takes is a quick glance to stop you dead in your tracks. usually, you weren’t one to stare but klahadore’s face. that stare. so dark and depraved.
“yes, miss?” he asks, holding your gaze. “can i help you?”
“n-no, i…” your throat goes dry as you attempt to recover smoothly. “i just wanted to, um, thank you for being so hospitable.”
his lips curve upwards into a sinister grin. “the pleasure’s all mine.” as if to confirm your worst fear, klahadore uses his palm to readjust his glasses. his beady eyes gauge your reaction closely.
the familiar gesture sends chills down your spine. appearance-wise, he had changed drastically but his aura was still just as menacing as you remember it. he was still the corrupt pirate captain you used to serve under. you feel like a weak and helpless subordinate all over again.
“klahadore!” giggles kaya. “you’re smiling! that’s certainly a rarity.”
he hums. “i’ve simply come to the realization that having guests once in a while can truly be a delight.”
his sickeningly sweet tone makes your stomach turn. just the fact that you were standing in front of him – captain kuro – again after all these years was nauseating in itself. last you’d heard he had died at the hands of captain morgan. how was this even possible? then again, he wasn’t dubbed kuro of a hundred plans for no reason. he always had a trick or two up his sleeve. you assumed this was no different.
“hey, you comin’?”
you turn around to see zoro waiting for you. he meets your gaze for a moment. the softness of his eyes is a stark contrast to kuro’s. it’s a breath of fresh air. he then shifts his attention to your former captain and you swear his eyes darken.
“yeah, sorry,” you mumble, trying not to look shaken as you walk up the steps.
zoro follows behind you, this time closer than before.
“why would anybody even need this many clothes?”
“it’s not about need with these people, luffy. it’s about want,” nami spits, thumbing through the various fabrics on the wall.
“at least she’s rich and nice,” luffy replies, innocently.
nami rolls her eyes. “yeah, letting us stay for dinner must be her idea of charity work.”
“what are we even supposed to wear?” luffy continues, uninterested in nami’s criticism of the rich.
“anything you want. when are you ever going to get the opportunity to wear things this nice?”
you step out from behind the changing board where you’d swapped out your old tee and cargo skirt for an elegant satin dress. it was a stunning shade of olive green and frilly lace decorated the edges. not to mention, it hugged your curves in all the right ways.
nami’s eyes widen. “see, she’s got the right idea. you look amazing.”
you smile, bashfully. “honestly, i feel amazing.”
“you look the same to me,” your captain shrugs.
nami shoots him a death glare but you intervene before she can scold him.
“way to keep me humble, luffy.”
“no problem!”
at that exact moment, a freshly showered zoro arrives donning a silk robe. he eyes the multitude of garments that cover every inch of the room, not particularly impressed.
“there you are. don’t you think she looks nice?” nami asks him, gesturing towards you. she doesn’t notice how you shrink under zoro’s gaze. neither does he, as his eyes take their time raking over you, from top to bottom.
he hums. “suits you.” with that, he sets off towards a chair in the corner of the room.
“seriously?” sighs nami, exasperated. “are you two physically unable to give compliments or something?”
“hey, doesn’t that butler seem familiar to you guys?” zoro asks, promptly ignoring nami’s complaint.
his question causes your breath to hitch. you’d pushed the kuro problem to the back of your mind while you were in search of a suitable dinner outfit. you figured that as long as your crew was by your side, he wouldn’t dare try anything. and even if he did… well, you’d seen what had happened to axe-hand morgan and buggy.
“yeah, i think he was at the last dinner party i attended,” nami replies sarcastically, taking a handful of dresses behind the changing board.
as he takes a seat, zoro grumbles, “i swear i’ve seen him before.”
“where?” you can’t help but ask, fiddling with the lace on the neckline of your dress.
“so far, i’ve got two suspicions. a wanted poster or funky bar on mirrorball island. you ever been?”
you know zoro’s teasing you, judging by the grin on his face. after all, funky bar was known to get insanely rowdy; never would he imagine finding someone as gentle as you there. but what he didn’t know is that it happened to be one of kuro’s favorite bars. per his request, you and the rest of the black cat pirates frequented it often, so he was more than likely right about having seen kuro there. he’d probably even seen you in passing, once or twice. thankfully, he doesn’t seem to have any recollection of that.
the thought of zoro knowing about your past forms a knot in the pit of your stomach. would he think less of you for having joined such a ruthless crew at one point in your life? what if it put a strain on the friendship you’d worked so hard to form?
“i’ve, uh, heard of it,” you decide to reply, pushing down your worries for the time being.
he tilts his head slightly, thinking out loud. “then again, i have seen a lot of wanted posters and bars in my time as a pirate hunter.”
you feel a grin creep onto your face. “probably more bars than posters, huh?”
zoro mirrors your smile. “shut up.”
by the time dinner rolls around, the entire crew is doing what they do best.
luffy is stuffing his face, nami is attempting to swindle one of the staff, zoro is hanging by the drinks, and you’re hanging by zoro.
“hey zoro, you gotta try this!” luffy calls through a mouthful of food.
“i’ve got all i need right here,” he mutters, taking a swig out of his champagne flute.
“you know, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you choke down something that isn’t alcohol,” you comment, watching the way he downs the glass in one go.
dryly, he replies, “that’s because i haven’t.”
“very on brand.”
“ladies and gentlemen,” calls out that voice from the top of the stairs. “may i present… miss kaya.”
arm in arm, kuro and kaya walk down the steps, all eyes on the birthday girl and her stunning gown. well, except you. your eyes never leave the so-called butler by her side. your jaw clenches when he has the audacity to meet your gaze and hold it. shameless bastard.
once they reach the bottom, merry leads kaya to the guests while kuro takes his post at the bottom of the stairs… right next to the drink table. before you can think about steering yourself and zoro away, kuro speaks.
“forgive me if i am speaking out of line, madam, but i must inform you. you look positively radiant,” he purrs, soaking in your appearance. he looks ready to pounce.
you can’t stop your eyes from rolling. good to know he’s the same pervert he used to be.
looking between you both and sensing your discomfort, zoro steps in. “and you look familiar.”
kuro’s head stiffly turns to face him, eyes peeling away from you. “highly doubtful, sir.”
“funky bar? mirror ball island?”
“funky bar?” kuro repeats, disgusted. “well, i can assure you i’ve never patronized that type of establishment.”
while it was amusing to see your highly esteemed former captain lie through his teeth, the tension between him and zoro was unbearable.
“well then.” zoro continues with his little interrogation. “ever been on a wanted poster?”
you cringe at his bluntness. sometimes it seemed like he had less of a filter than luffy.
kuro puts on a scandalized face at the question. “sir! such an accusation is highly offensive.” tugging on his collar, he goes to remove himself from zoro’s probing. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i’m going to help prepare the dinner table.”
he leaves, en route to the dining room. zoro’s eyes follow his figure until he disappears, squinting as he racks his brain for any further recollection of this suspicious butler.
you sigh. if zoro was going to continue being so relentless, you were sure the night would end in bloodshed and uncovered secrets.
“keep this coming,” zoro demands, handing the empty wine bottle to sham. she takes it with a glare.
“would it kill you to say please?” you ask, slicing the slab of fish on your plate into smaller pieces.
“the service here is shitty. why should i have to be polite?”
you scowl. “remind me to never have dinner with you again.”
zoro turns to you with that cocky grin of his. “what if i asked nicely?”
his quip makes your heart flutter but you manage to keep your composure. “you can try your luck.”
before he can respond, usopp speaks up. “luffy, isn’t there something that you wanted to talk to kaya about?”
luffy gesticulates enthusiastically with his fork. “oh, yes! usopp told me that you own the whole shipyard.”
“well, actually, my parents founded the shipyard and merry’s been running the business since they… passed. but all that’s about to change. tonight, at midnight, i will become the sole owner.” she smiles somberly.
“well, that’s great,” luffy says, raising his drink at her. “because we want to buy a ship from you.”
“ah, i see. usopp mentioned that you’re sailors.”
“nope, not sailors. we’re pirates!”
you’re certain at least three people at the table choke on their food, yourself included.
“this ought to be good,” zoro mumbles behind his glass.
you’re too busy coughing into your napkin to chastise him for finding this entertaining.
“pirates?” kaya repeats, unsure of how to react.
“yup! we haven’t sailed together for very long but we’ve already defeated an evil clown, raided a marine base, and taken down a captain with an axe! for a hand!” luffy holds up a fist, presumably to impersonate axe-hand morgan.
“sounds a lot like your adventures, usopp,” kaya says, turning to the brunette.
all he can do is laugh dryly. “yeah, that’s… that’s crazy.”
“and we’re just getting started!” luffy continues, climbing up onto the table.
“someone put me out of my misery,” you mumble, looking down at your plate to ignore the secondhand embarrassment.
a tap on your shoulder answers your plea.
turning around, you find yourself face to face with kuro once again. “madam, a word please?”
“might i ask what for?” zoro cuts in before you can so much as think of a response.
kuro offers him the most forced grin you’ve ever had the displeasure of seeing. “i’m afraid that is between the lady and i.”
the swordsman turns to you, scanning your face for any ounce of discomfort. “you okay with that?”
you inhale, figuring it was finally time for you to confront the darkest part of your past. it was silly to assume you would be able to ignore him throughout your entire stay here. besides, you were sure zoro, just like the rest of your crew, would be on standby if kuro got brave enough to try anything. “sure. just… keep an eye out.”
zoro understands completely. truthfully, you didn’t even need to ask – he always looked after you. “got it.”
you push yourself out of your seat and smooth out your dress. you allow kuro to lead you to the doorway – he was smart enough to know that was the farthest you’d let him take you.
“what do you want, klahadore?” you seethe, folding your arms.
he arches a brow. “why must you call me that? it’s ridiculous.”
you tilt your head with faux innocence. “oh? is that not your name? must have misheard.”
he gives you an irritated look, dark eyes drilling into you.
“i remember that look,” you mutter, your memory serving you well. “it’s the same one you’d give me before you’d threaten to slice me to bits with your claws.”
kuro has the audacity to chuckle dryly. “but i never did, did i? although there were certainly times times where i should’ve.”
“what you should be is dead,” you hiss bitterly. “when i heard the news, i knew it was too good to be true.”
“you wound me, kitten,” he drawls, reaching up to fix his glasses.
the condescending nickname makes your skin crawl. it carried so many awful memories of your time spent with the black cat pirates. it reminded you of just how weak kuro viewed you — nothing but a helpless, pitiful kitten in his eyes. typical of the man that abused his authority and treated you with not a single ounce of respect.
he continues, putting on a sweet tone. “after all these years, stuck waiting hand and foot on that spoiled brat, there’s nothing i’d love more than to hear my favorite crew mate say my real name.”
you snap at him. “i’m no crew mate of yours.”
he sighs, dramatically. “sadly, you’re correct. after all, you did slip off the ship the moment we docked in shells town. locating you on an island crawling with marines proved to be nearly impossible. we had no choice but to leave without you.”
“that’s exactly why i chose to escape there.”
“and to this day i can’t for the life of me figure out why you would ever do that. why would you want to leave us? leave me?”
you actually laugh right in his face. “is it really that hard to figure out? you were evil. you threatened and harassed me on a daily basis.”
“so your solution was to join that ragtag crew?” he glances at the table. “it’s pathetic, even for you.”
you lean into his face, lowering your voice down. “i’m happier than i ever was on your shitty crew. every day i wake up grateful that i managed to escape you.”
you see that vein on his forehead bulge before he’s gripping you by the chin. “listen here, you little bitch–”
the shiny silver of a sword slides between you and kuro, coming to rest against his neck. his adam’s apple bobs as he gulps anxiously, releasing you. thanks to zoro’s sword, it seemed as if he finally remembered where he was. you were no longer on his ship, he was no longer allowed to treat you like the dirt he walked on. not without someone noticing, that is.
“why don’t you step away?” zoro offers simply.
that much was a kindness. usually those who found themselves on the end of zoro’s blade(s) weren’t lucky enough to receive a warning. however, the swordsman didn’t wish to cause a scene. at least not when you were right there and everyone was watching with shock from the dinner table.
kuro obliges, stumbling back. he meets kaya’s horrified eyes, feeling ashamed that he allowed his act to slip. surely this would cause some setbacks in his plan. with no excuse for his uncharacteristic behavior, the raven haired man scurries away and up the stairs.
zoro turns and locks eyes with luffy, giving him one singular nod. luffy returns it, jumping out of his seat and going after the butler. quiet murmuring breaks out at the dinner table, everyone surely confused.
sheathing his sword, zoro directs his attention to you once more. “are you alright?” a calloused hand comes up to grip your chin, much like kuro had. however, this time, the touch is gentle. loving, almost. you welcome it.
“yeah, i’m… fine.” your heart is beating out of your chest and it has everything to do with your close proximity to zoro.
he tilts your face around, inspecting every inch of it. once he finishes, he pulls back. his demeanor goes serious once more. “we need to have a talk.”
you nod. “i know. i’ve been keeping some things from you guys and–”
“just tell me what’s been going on,” he demands. “and don’t overcomplicate it. you can be straightforward with me.”
his sincerity makes you start over, this time far more candidly. “klahadore used to be a pirate. i was part of his crew. he was my… captain.”
the shame in your voice pulls at zoro’s heartstrings. didn’t you know there was no reason to feel guilty with him? “is that it?”
you open your mouth to speak but come up empty. all you can do is furrow your eyebrows at his unexpectedly dismissive reaction.
“i knew it,” zoro continues, annoyed. “i knew i’d seen him on a wanted poster before. just didn’t have any proof.”
“wait, so you don’t– you really don’t care?” you ask, still avoiding eye contact. “me being a former black cat pirate doesn’t bother you?”
he shrugs. “you said it yourself. ‘former.’ all that matters is that you got the hell out of there. and away from that creep. would he always put his hands on you like that?”
you blink a couple times, sighing. “his temper was really bad so–”
that seemed to be enough for zoro. “i’ll kill the bastard,” he hisses. “wanted to slice him to bits the moment i saw him grab you.”
though it’s a violent threat, you can’t help but smile. the idea of zoro being so protective that he’d kill a man just for touching you made you blush. pirate love language, you suppose.
“well, i wouldn’t have stopped you,” you tell him, more than ready to see your former captain go.
zoro clicks his tongue. “nah. could’ve stained your new dress with his blood. i never would have been able to forgive myself.”
“so you do have a soft spot,” you tease.
“only for pretty things.”
“do you mean me or the dress?”
now it’s zoro’s turn to become bashful. though, his lack of response is an answer in itself. you can’t help but giggle.
a loud bang from upstairs interrupts your moment with the green-haired man. you assume luffy had gotten his hands on kuro… or vice versa. zoro must be thinking the same thing judging by the way he instinctively rests a hand on the handle of his blade.
“you should go up there,” you tell him. “i’ll stay with kaya.”
he gives you a nod, though he doesn’t make any effort to leave. he stands there like he wants to say something… or do something. before you can think about it too much, you pull him in by the collar and crash your lips onto his. they’re slightly chapped and taste like the wine that’d come from the cellar – it’s pleasant. his large palms come to rest on your lower back; his hold feels tight and secure.
when you finally allow yourself to pull away, you’re biting back a smile. “kick his ass for me.”
“will i get more of that if i do?” asks zoro, wetting his lips. they now taste like the cherry lip gloss you’d borrowed from kaya. he takes a step forward, attempting to close the gap between you two once more.
you shrug, pushing him away by the chest. “go help luffy and we’ll see.”
you both know that means yes.
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fate
clarisse la rue x reader — percy jackson and the olympians
[fem!daughter of apollo reader]
[part 2 to the trees]
summary: clarisse is being weirdly standoffish, and you’re not one to cave to that, no matter how much you like her. and no matter how things go, you still have to get your weapons from the forest.
warnings: swearing, arguing, fighting, monsters, PINING BUT THEYRE IDIOTS, everyone’s so mad at each other rn, kissing (AHHHH), canon typical violence, again probably slightly ooc clarisse but hey i love her anyway
word count: 3.2k
(uhhh so this is probably not what anyone was expecting for part two but this is how i alway a planned it, so here it is!! tag list in reblogs and also thank you for the love on the trees! i love you all so much <3 and i’d die for you just like clarisse and this dumb bitch here would die for each other)
(this is much more enemies to lovers than the first one btw so have fun)
———————————————
the day after capture the flag was always a little tense. of course it was. half the camp had just lost, and not many people at camp were good losers, especially not those who got their butts kicked.
this time, though, there was a new level of tension in the air.
ares kids didn’t often run the flag over the line themselves, and those who did were crowing about it at breakfast, then all morning too.
curiously, clarisse wasn’t. she was eating in silence, picking through her eggs like she was searching for something.
you’d never seen her like that before. no one had. but, it seemed you were the only person to notice. you always were, and you were okay with that.
your brother nudged your arm and shot you a questioning look, but you brushed him off with a smile.
why was clarisse so down? she’d won. what did she have to be upset about? was she mad at you? did you do something to piss her off in the tree? she hadn’t seemed exactly happy when she left.
stuck in your thoughts, you didn’t realise she’d met your eyes until your brother elbowed you.
“ow! what do you want?” you snapped, rubbing your rib cage tenderly.
“clarisse is staring at you,” he said with wide eyes. “dude… what did you do?”
“nothing,” you scoffed and stood up, taking your empty plate to the stack of dirty dishes, trying—and failing—to not look at clarisse as you left.
“y/n, wait up!”
you slowed down for sam as he jogged to catch up to you. there was a newfound bitterness in your mouth when you saw him. you’d never liked him, not like he’d liked you, but you’d never felt like you wanted to be away from him. not like you did in that moment then. but where would you go? to clarisse? yeah, right, she’d laugh in your face, regardless of whatever happened—or might have happened—in that tree.
“what’s up?” you asked. you couldn’t help your voice being drier than usual.
“just wanted to see how those arrows did you? were they good? i can make some more, if you want.” he looked almost eager to do so.
you smiled kindly. he really was sweet. “they were great, thanks, sam. best arrows i’ve ever used, even if i didn’t get too much of a chance to use them.” your steps faltered. “i did leave one in the forest though. i’ll have to get that later.”
your eyes locked on clarisse as she walked towards you down the path. two of her siblings were behind her, laughing, but she wasn’t. in fact, her jaw was set tight and she was glaring. at sam.
“i could come with you?” he suggested. “watch your back. keep you safe, you know?”
clarisse scoffed as she passed. “she doesn’t need you to keep her safe, tool-box.”
that was a little mean. sure, sam carried his tool-box everywhere, but you never know what might need to be fixed! despite yourself, you had to hold in a laugh. your eyes were alight with amusement as you locked gaze with clarisse.
she looked proud of herself, a jaunty grin on her lips. you couldn’t help your gaze dropping to them briefly. she smiled wider. it was infuriating. she now knew what her effect on you was, and she was using it.
“if she needed someone to protect her, she’d come to me, right, angel?” she tilted her head.
your mouth was infuriatingly dry. you nodded. “uh—“
“whatever,” sam snapped. “come on, y/n. let’s go.”
you kind of wanted to stay, but his grip on your arm didn’t leave any room for an argument. you trailed after him as he left, glancing over your shoulder just in time to see clarisse’s face darken with anger.
“angel?” sam scoffed. “who does she think she is?”
“uh…”
“whatever. gods, she’s just so—“ he turned and faced you, almost causing you to bump into his chest. you’d never seen him so intense before. “stay away from her, y/n. seriously. she’s bad news.”
“she’s nice to me,” you protested.
“she’s not nice to anyone. don’t be naive.” he turned on his heel and started to walk away, then turned back, his face softer. “come on. do you want to learn how to weld? you said you did last week.”
did you? you didn��t remember that. but you did vaguely remember a conversation with sam that you spent zoned out and staring at clarisse as she trained, so that was probably it. “oh, no… i have to… train…”
he looked disappointed, but nodded. “okay, that’s cool. maybe another day. or maybe, we can… go for a walk together? or even have lunch on the beach?”
you nodded absently. “maybe.”
“great, it’s a date!”
you frowned. “it’s a what?”
he looked happier than you’d ever seen him. he even kissed your cheek before walking off, a new spring in his step. you stood there for a moment, eyes wide, wondering what the hell just happened. then you heard a scoff from behind you.
when you turned around, clarisse was walking away.
“clarisse,” you said softly, jogging after her. “clarisse, wait!”
“go hang out with your boyfriend, l/n.” she snapped, her arms crossed as she walked. “he’s probably waiting for you so you two can make out in that sweaty little sex dungeon they call a workshop.”
your eyebrows shot up. “okay, first of all, i’m pretty sure it is actually a workshop, and second of all, he’s still not my boyfriend!”
she scoffed again but didn’t answer, stomping up the steps to the ares cabin and stopping at the top, looking down at you.
you felt small under her gaze, but you didn’t back down.
“what are you doing here?” she asked after a moment.
“you said i could come get a new dagger,”you said.
she rolled her eyes and leaned on the porch railing. “and?”
you frowned, looking up at her. “and… i’m here to get one?”
she regarded you for a few seconds in silence, then, just as she was about to speak, a new voice called out.
“clarisse, are you giving out girlfriend privileges already?” one of her brothers, marcus, you thought, stepped into the doorway of the cabin and peered around her to look at you. he looked like a stereotypical son of ares: buff, tall and mean. “that’s cute.” he continued, looking at you like you were an animal in a zoo.
“she’s not my girlfriend,” she scoffed like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world.
well, that hurt.
“yeah, we’re just—“
“we’re not even friends,” she added hurriedly, not even looking at you. “she just thinks she’s special.”
your jaw clenched. that really hurt. “i don’t think i’m special,” you snapped. “i think i want you to honour your word from yesterday or go and get my dagger out of the forest for me.”
“not my fault you forgot your dagger,” she studied her nails nonchalantly.
“but if you hadn’t thrown my dagger out of a tree and tossed my new arrow aside like it was trash then i wouldn’t have forgotten. and maybe if you hadn’t leaned in like you were about to kiss me, maybe i wouldn’t have forgotten either.” your gaze was as sharp as hers was, meeting in the middle with fire and lightning crackling between you.
she stepped forward, face to face with you. for a second, you thought she’d punch you, but you didn’t back down.
then she laughed. it wasn’t at all like her laugh in the tree the day before. this was her cold, cruel laugh that she usually saved for her victims. with a start, you realised that’s what you were: another victim of clarisse la rue. your heart broke for a split second before you pulled yourself together and straightened your back, meeting her eyes.
“kiss you?” she snickered. “get your head out of your ass, angel, you’re not all that because you can shoot a bow and climb a tree.”
you stepped closer to her, so you were right up in her face. “and you’re not all that because you scare away everyone who cares about you, just because your daddy’s a little mean. you don’t need to be a bitch about everything.”
you regretted it instantly. you’d gone too far. you knew that.
her face dropped and a hurt look flashed through her eyes, but it died as soon as it came to life.
you stepped back and turned, marching away.
“where are you going?” she called after you. “we’re not finished here!”
“you have something else to say to me, clarisse, you come find me!” you shot back, your voice hard. you didn’t start arguments often, but goddamn did you finish them.
you stomped into the forest, determined to find your dagger and arrow so you could prove to both clarisse and sam that you were capable of more than just shooting arrows from trees and running away from fights.
it was darker today. the clouds that covered camp half-blood permeated through the forest, leaving a heavy weight suspended among the trees. the air felt thicker, even, and the birdsong seemed quieter than usual. was there something around? something hanging in the air, waiting to attack you? drag your body back to camp and leave it on clarisse’s doorstep like a cat bringing in a dead bird?
or was your fear just because you were alone instead of with the rest of camp.
whatever it was, it put you on edge.
there was a clicking sound behind you, like someone was cracking a joint, but when you turned, no one was there. you weren’t foolish enough to call out.
you could feel a chill going down your spine, and that’s when you knew: the first shoe had dropped.
your eyelids fluttered and you nearly dropped to the ground, but you leaned heavily against a tree to catch yourself. typical. go out on your own, thinking you can take care of yourself and you get hit with a premonition. how’s that for fate?
you let the feeling wash over you; the pure panic of the near future and the warm grip of a hand on your wrist, like someone was pulling you along.
the future was not looking promising.
there was another clicking sound behind you as you finally managed to straighten up, much closer this time.
you turned around.
the bushes were rustling.
you suddenly realised what that clicking sound was.
mandibles.
two ants the size of german shepherds burst through the foliage. myrmeke.
there was the other shoe, dropping real hard.
“shit!” you stumbled backward, reaching for a weapon. you had no weapon. “double shit!”
you turned and ran.
the ants were fucking fast. they could have caught up to you if you weren’t so agile, turning and springing off in different directions every few steps, sending them careening into trees and rocks. that was the only thing keeping you alive.
where even were you? you didn’t recognise this area. hopefully you weren’t running directly for their anthill. that would be a real twist of fate.
then you burst into a new area, this one with a large tree—a large tree that you recognised.
“yes!” you exclaimed, dashing for the trunk. you found your dagger easily, then your discarded arrow too. you didn’t know what good they’d do against the myrmeke, considering that their shells were as hard as armour and, while force was good in some cases, you had to admit that sharpness may have helped you against them.
you couldn’t run anymore. your screaming lungs told you that. you couldn’t climb either. the ants could climb better than you and you’d be a sitting duck up there, no matter how high you went. but maybe, just maybe, you could hold them off until they got bored or someone realised you were missing.
it wasn’t easy, but you managed to deflect and dodge the myrmeke’s attacks. they were fast, but you were faster. you even managed a swipe at one of their legs as you rolled past, but all it did was leave a tiny chink in its armour.
you were beginning to lose hope.
honestly, what you wouldn’t give for a spear right now. your blunt dagger and slim arrow were about as good as a toothpick against these monsters.
just as you were backed against the tree that you’d once found a safe haven, you heard a battle cry. you could have sobbed from relief, but instead, as the spear-wielding figure landed on top of one of the ants, driving her weapon into the gap between its armoured plates, you took your opportunity to stab your arrow with as much force as you could into the other ant’s gaping mouth, slipping it precisely between its mandibles and, hopefully, into its brain.
it jerked back in pain and screeched, the sound making your ears ring, but it didn’t die. instead, it looked rightfully pissed off, and now it had an arrow sticking from its mouth.
as your saviour pulled her spear from the ants back, a warm, brown liquid sprayed on you. it smelled like ants always did after you crushed them, just a million times worse. you wondered if this was revenge for all the ants you’d murdered in your life.
“gross!” you exclaimed, wiping it off your face.
“grow up, bows, we gotta go!” clarisse. your saviour was clarisse. of course.
just as you were about to protest, two more myrmeke crept out of the forest towards you.
she gripped your wrist, right where that warmth was in your premonition, and dragged you away, making you drop your dagger in the rush.
“i dropped my—“
“save it!” she snapped, pulling you along.
the desperation in her voice kicked you into gear and you started running faster, alongside her now.
you didn’t use the same tactics as before. instead of dodging, you just ran as fast as you could and prayed that the myrmeke would be slower. clarisse seemed to know where she was going, at least.
“you’re such an idiot!” clarisse yelled as they ran.
“we’re doing this now?” you panted incredulously.
“you could have died!”
“we’ll both die if you don’t stop yelling at me!”
finally, gloriously, you breached the edge of the forest and stepped into camp. the myrmeke wouldn’t follow you there.
you dropped to you knees, panting and staring into the forest. clarisse was standing in front of you, her spear ready, just in case.
you’d stepped into a quiet part of camp up behind the amphitheatre, so there was no one around to see you, and no one around to help you. you had a feeling that if the myrmeke didn’t kill you, clarisse wouldn’t hesitate.
once it was clear that they weren’t following, she rounded on you.
you were still on your knees, your legs too tired and shaky with adrenaline to stand, but she didn’t seem to care.
“what were you thinking, going in on your own?” she snapped.
“well i wasn’t expecting to get attacked by killer ants within the camp’s borders!” you protested.
“everyone knows they’re there.”
“i forgot, okay? i’m not perfect.”
“oh, i know.” she rolled her eyes.
“gods, would you just fuck off?” you finally stood up, face to face with her. “you’re horrible sometimes, you know that? i can’t believe i’ve defended you.”
“i don’t need your defending.”
“and i don’t need your help!”
“you would have died!” she yelled, emphasising every word.
“but i didn’t!” you shouted back.
she rolled her eyes and stepped closer, anger practically radiating off her. “yeah, thanks to me. you’d be dead if i hadn’t followed you in there—“
“why did you follow me?” you asked suddenly, voice harsh.
“what?”
“why did you follow me?” you asked again, slower. “i didn’t ask you to look after me, clarisse.”
there it was again. that slightly relaxation of her shoulders when you said her name. it drove you nuts. you didn’t know if you wanted to kiss her for hours or throw her to the myrmeke.
she tensed up again and turned to leave. “whatever. i’m done here.”
“i’m not!” you gripped her shoulder and pulled her back around. to your surprise, she didn’t pull a weapon on you. “why did you follow me, clarisse? was it the same reason that you were flirting with me yesterday? and why you’re so protective of me? and why you hate sam?”
“i wasn’t flirting with you,” she grumbled. “and i hate sam for… personal reasons. and i’m not protective of you! why would you even think that?”
“that’s all bullshit and you know it,” you sneered.
“gods, you aggravate me!” she exclaimed.
“you didn’t have to come help me,” you scoffed, stepping back. “i didn’t ask for your help.”
“and i didn’t want to help you!”
“then why did you? huh? you could handle not winning a fight? you wanted to finish the argument on your terms?” your eyebrows were raised and your face was cold. “or were you gonna beat me up but the giant killer ants got to me first?”
she looked like she was about to explode with anger. “because i love you!”
the air escaped from your lungs in one sharp moment, and it looked like hers did the same thing.
“what?” you asked, your voice softer.
it was silent. she looked like she was trying to find something to say, but couldn’t. her mouth opened and closed weakly, and she shook her head, lips pressed together. you wanted to kiss her.
so you did.
she tensed up as your hands came to her waist, pulling her body and lips against yours hard. then, finally, she relaxed. she dropped her spear at your feet and raised her hands to your hair, threading her fingers through the strands. she was a softer kisser than you’d expected, but it was definitely her. it was all her. the tug on your hair, the underlying, undeniable harshness of the kiss, the spear that rested against your foot. it was perfectly clarisse. you could have kissed her until the sun went down and the ants came and carried you both to their anthill, and if you stayed kissing her like this, you wouldn’t even mind.
when, finally, you pulled away, you were both breathing heavily. all of the tension from the fight hid dissipated, leaving only a warm sparkling in the air, like a mirage around her face in the sunlight. maybe that was a sign? or a vision? whatever it was, it was heaven-sent.
she was smiling. she looked softer like this. gods, you loved it. it felt like fate, and you knew a lot about fate. fate was fickle. fate was cruel. fate brought you the arguments, the myrmeke, the terror. but fate also brought you this. this girl who was glowing in the sun like she was made of pure rays of light. the girl with a spear that she laid down at your feet and would save you barehanded if you asked. the girl who had sunk into your arms like she was made to be there.
“do you think i can get that new dagger now?” you asked cheekily, playing with the hem of her camp shirt. “i mean, i have girlfriend privileges now, right, babe?”
clarisse rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. “shut up, devil.”
“ooh, devil. that’s new,” you teased. “i like it. it’s apt.”
“it sure is.” she looked down. “i’m… sorry, by the way.”
“me too,” you nodded. “i didn’t really mean any of that, you know?”
“‘cause you like me,” she said in a teasing voice.
“yeah, ‘cause i like you, or whatever.” you kissed her again, smiling against her lips. “and i know you like me too, because you so did nearly kiss me in that tree yesterday.”
she shrugged. “maybe. maybe not. guess we’ll never know.”
you found out at the next capture the flag game. and the next. and the next. she would go out of her way to find you, defeat you, then kiss you before running off to win the games. and honestly, you didn’t really mind.
fate was a fickle thing, but with clarisse by your side, no one could touch you. sam left you alone, people started treating you better, and you had everything you could ask for. her.
and whenever you two argued, you’d go into the woods together and kill some ants. after all, what says ‘couple’s bonding’ quite like murder?
#clarisse la rue#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse la rue x y/n#clarisse la rue x you#pjo#pjo tv show#pjo x reader#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#dior goodjohn
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There are ups and downs to being an animal science major
The major up is that you get to play with cows and sheep
The major down is that you smell like one after
#wrestled a few sheep the other day :)#pretty fun#I’m going into production/management#and really want to either work with sheep and horses#or sheep and cows#most likely sheep and cows cause I can get a lot outta them in the long run#but I wouldn’t mind having a horse or two#maybe a few goats#:)#I don’t think I would sell for meat tho#would break my heart but I’m thinking wool/fiber or milk is good for me#cause I don’t think I’d be able to kill one of them for market or sell them off#I’d want them to live until they die#on my farm 😌 a dream <3
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ppl who have actual ideas for the art they make are so fucking strong i’m so envious
#i feel like i’ve had maybe 3 ideas total#i think i’m pretty decent at art. i like my art often. but it all feels like it’s vaguely nothing. substanceless#i’m fairly good at making pretty pictures i think but it feels like that’s all it is#i’m honestly not that creative i don’t have a lot of ideas often#hellish because the interesting ideas that i do have are locked in my brain behind barriers of lack of skill and motivation#i can only make art when it’s easy or when i’m really really passionate#but the things that i need to be able to do to create the things i want to are very difficult and i do not want to do them#thus i am stuck#i like drawing. i do. but the things i’d need to do to actively improve are unreachable#and stagnation is so frustrating#art should be fun first and foremost but it’s not fun when i’m bad at it and it’s not fun when i’m trying to learn it actively#so the things that are fun are vaguely nothing shaped.#HELL. art is hell i love it it’s killing me i wish i could put it down forever and also i’d rather die than stop drawing forever#i wish i could see a snapshot of where i am artistically in 10 years#i also don’t cause then the next ten years would be agonizing and depending on the kind of time travel rules i’d definitely create a paradox#ultimately there is nothing to do except keep drawing. how fucked up is that
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─── 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 4.7k | content: fluff (i promise), slight insecurities, comfort, 5 times he says yes and 1 time he says no
notes: ok ok so guys !! i know i’ve been posting angst recently so i offer you comfort sae !! <3 this man has my entire heart so i’m just gonna embrace it hehe may or may not have been thinking of ‘daylight’ when i wrote this .
summary: the way sae loves you is beautiful. it’s nothing like you envisioned and something you never knew you needed.
“be my girlfriend, then, idiot.”
he’s handsome, seventeen.
even more handsome when he’s on the field, being the beast you know he is. he dribbles past everyone like they’re robots, like they’re snails. he gets into the penalty area and scores, and everyone in the stand cheers.
if there’s one common knowledge in your high school, it’s that itoshi sae is one of the world’s best soccer players.
maybe it’s no wonder that you’re holding a bag full of gifts for sae for valentines, being assistant manager for your school’s soccer team. it’s astounding how heavy this bag is. but you’ll know that in the end, whatever’s inside will likely get distributed between the entire team anyway, given how sae never accepts a single one.
“is it that time of the year again?” sae sighs, squirting water from his bottle into his mouth, towel hanging around his neck as he walks out of the locker room shirtless, fresh after a shower and hair all damp, sticking to the sides of his face.
still handsome.
“would it kill you to accept at least one of them?”
you expect one of his usual retorts—maybe a yes or a one of them could be poisonous. but instead, he grabs the bag from you, still frowning. “fine then,” he says, opening the bag and peering inside before he turns his gaze back onto you, “which one’s from you?”
the one with the purple post-it attached to sae’s favourite candy bar.
“i didn’t give you any, itoshi,” you lie, keeping your calm and crossing your arms. but sae cocks a brow because he doesn’t believe you. “really!”
“yeah, you sure about that?” sae’s tone takes a surprisingly gentle turn, and you find it hard to get used to. especially when it’s coupled with an amused expression.
“really, i’d die before giving anything to a grump like you.”
sae nods his head like he doesn’t believe you and starts rifling through the contents. he takes something out—a candy bar with a purple post-it attached to it. you can’t escape from him even if you tried.
“you’re the most irritating smart handsome guy i know, i hope you make it to the big leagues, i’ll never get tired of watching you play,” sae reads out loud, monotonously because it’s his way of mocking you. his gaze shifts from the note up to you, and he has his answer by your unwillingness to meet his eyes. “slick.”
“oh, shut up,” you tell him before turning on your heels and walking off.
“you want me so bad.”
“you wish, itoshi sae.”
“hey, take the rest of these away from me,” sae calls after you, referring to the big bag of valentines’ gifts you’d just left him with.
you turn around, walking backwards. “i’m not your girlfriend, itoshi, not my job!”
sae smirks. “be my girlfriend then, idiot.”
taken off guard, you fail to watch where you’re walking and fall over a broom, knocking several of the janitor’s stuff over. sae runs over, straight-faced while he holds his hand out to you.
“damn klutz,” he remarks as he pulls you up on your feet.
you’re thankful sae’s not the kind to make jokes like how he swept you off your feet, but the close proximity is making you giddy, in a good way, and you’re not sure you want to pass up on that.
“so?”
“so what, itoshi? and let me go,” you say, trying to pull away from him. he doesn’t let go though.
“say yes, then i’ll let go,” he tells you, and you can feel his breath fanning your lips and you’re sure he’s having a field day watching you get flustered.
“sure you want me, itoshi sae?” because a part of you finds that hard to believe, with the way he rejects other girls left and right and barely feels any remorse.
but what you don’t know is how different you are to him. if he dare say, special. maybe it’s the way you’ve always seemed like the stubborn kind, the kind of girl that refuses to ask for help but secretly wants to be protected. the kind of girl who can always help herself, but kill him if he thinks you’re someone who wouldn’t mind having someone to lean on.
maybe at some point, he started to want to be that person for you. no matter how many times you scream his name for not complying to schedules, no matter how many times you flip your hair against his face. you have everyone on the soccer team on a leash, and most of all sae.
that’s the first time he tells you—yes, he wants you.
“not even if you bribe me.”
at nineteen, sae’s serious about you.
it’s no secret that he’s devoted—you can feel it. because sae isn’t the type to profess his love every day, no. he’s the kind that shows it through his actions, through the way he automatically carries your shopping for you, through the way he always takes your side in public, through the way he looks at you whenever you’re talking.
you have no doubt about it. it doesn’t even cross your mind that he might stray. yeah, you have your priorities, and he has his. you’ll go after them, and he’ll go after his—there’s no reason why you can’t chase your dreams in parallel.
your parents think otherwise, though.
like some rather typical parents do, they’re sceptical; sae can see it in their eyes. the way they furrow their brows whenever you invite him to chime in during dinner, the way they ask investigative questions—things about his past history that even you never asked him.
“mom!” you’re fed up with their interrogation tactics, shooting a warning glare at your parents.
your mom and dad look at each other in resignation before resuming to quietly eat their dinner. you’re reluctant to leave sae alone at the dinner table with your parents while you help to wash up, but sae tells you he’ll be fine. because he will.
they’re humans. they’re like you, just older and less prettier. why should sae be scared?
as expected, the moment you turn the tap on, your parents jump on him.
“you know, she really likes you,” your mom tells him. “i can’t say the same for you, though.”
sae’s never navigated around conversations with parents. he doesn’t know the first thing about this. he’s just keeping his fingers crossed he doesn’t fuck up.
“you look like someone who has a lot of girls, itoshi,” your father chimes in before sae can speak up. “you have a lot of girls on the side?”
he could not be more wrong.
“none, sir.”
why does this effort feel much more than necessary?
“why y/n?” your mother jumps in, and for the first time tonight, sae spots a genuine curiosity in her eyes.
not the best question to ask someone who doesn’t even remotely talk about their feelings. sae finds himself stumped, but your mother is, fortunately, a nice person deep down.
“just tell me this,” she leans forward, and your father seems to relax a little bit, sinking back against his chair. none of you realise the tap’s turned off. “do you love her?”
that’s… premature, if sae has any say in it. and he thinks it’s criminal that he’s telling your mother before he even tells you, but he knows that not admitting it would likely cause a rift between you and them—not something he wants.
making you miserable? no thank you.
so he nods, “yes, i do.”
“you realise that—”
“sir, let me put it this way: you can’t force me to stay away from her, not even if you bribe me.”
from the kitchen, you smile as you listen. looks like you had nothing to worry about after all.
“they’re nothing compared to you.”
you love seeing sae living his dreams; love having front-row seats to his matches, love catching the fleeting glimpses he gives after he wins.
he’s twenty-one and thriving in the soccer scene, more than ever. world-famous and revered. the two of you are stronger than ever, still, because despite how sae looks, he’s much softer than people think.
when he’s running late from practice, he texts you the moment he can, tells you what’s up. when he has to cancel on you, he makes sure he makes it up to you. if he has soccer obligations on special occasions, he’ll let you know.
it’s funny thinking back to the days when you used to squabble with each other, to the days when everyone was tired of hearing you and sae argue.
not that that should be a problem now anymore—why? simple, because non-disclosure agreements are ass. but a highly recommended thing by his publicist; to protect his image, and then he told you not to take it personally because he’s asking all of sae’s close contacts to sign it too.
which didn’t take long.
it was mostly rin and his parents, and some other guys he used to know back in high school.
oh, and there’s you. apparently, you can’t divulge anything about being in a relationship with itoshi sae. so, as far as the world is concerned, he’s a bachelor.
“it’ll sell better,” was all the explanation his publicist offered.
sae had been against it, because why should he hide you from the world? and it’s stupid. but his publicist is smart, pointing out that you might get harassed online if his loyal fans find out. (to which sae begrudgingly agreed to, for the interim.)
it was fine, up to a point, but you’d never really considered how you’d feel seeing all these headlines of sae possibly being romantically linked with all these socialites and up-and-coming movie stars.
a part of you, the prideful part, is too stuck-up to ask your boyfriend for assurance. mainly because you think it’s stupid. sae constantly texts you when he’s not with you (as much as his schedule allows), and whenever he’s done for the day he goes back home and calls you if he can.
the other part of you, the lovestruck one, is afraid that maybe you can’t measure up to everyone else. that just maybe, you’re worlds apart and you’re not good enough.
usually you’d wait for sae to tell you he’s home, you’d let him rest his mind on the way back, but this time you’re impulsive and you’re dialing his number before you know it.
“hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, picking up after just two rings. even he knows you don’t usually initiate the calls.
“um,” you stutter because you don’t actually know how to tell him you’re calling to ask for assurance. despite having been together for four years, you realise that neither of you have actually sat down and talked about feelings.
“babe, talk to me,” sae urges you, and you can hear him getting off the bus. he must have just reached his apartment complex. he must’ve been tired from an entire day of intensive bootcamp and here you are, calling him with your trivial matters.
“it’s nothing, sae, forget it.”
“wait, what—”
you hang up before he can say anything and quickly text him.
i’m feeling a little sick tonight, just going to rest early.
sae leaves you on read and you think you’ve fended him off.
you did not.
an hour later, he’s at your door, carrying all your favorite convenience store snacks and a worried expression.
“what is it?” he asks you. you’re a little too stunned to speak. sae lets himself in, placing the snacks on your dining table before he really looks at you, surveying your face. “what were you crying about?”
you suddenly feel stupid for thinking your puffy eyes wouldn’t give you away.
sae tips your chin up when you try to look down. “y/n, tell me,” and he sounds only concerned, and the guilt builds up inside you.
so you tell him—you tell him about your intrusive thoughts as he lets you lay against his chest on the couch. you tell him about your insecurities as he sits in silence and listens. you tell him that you think it’s stupid of you to think this and you’re beginning to think you’re an ass for keeping him up so late when he has training tomorrow morning.
but sae doesn’t feel that. not one bit.
“it’s not stupid,” he tells you, and if you’d been able to see his expression, you’d know that he can never look at anyone the same way he looks at you. “all those girls you’re worried about, they’re nothing compared to you.”
“really?” you sniffle, appreciating the fact that even though he’s horrible at talking emotions, he’s trying his best for you.
sae pulls some hair away from your face and you pull back to get a good look at him. “really, stupid.” you laugh and he laughs, and now you’re really feeling stupid because there’s no way sae would ever choose anyone else over you. would never dream of having any other option.
“promise?”
sae sighs, in that lovingly way he does. “yes, i promise,” and he means it—he’s never thought of being with anyone else. “i love you, don’t i?”
you nod, chuckling because yes, yes he does. and yes, you know that more than anyone. even if it has to be kept under wraps for now; there’s no cause for concern.
when you fall asleep on his chest and sae’s too cautious to wake you up, your mother wakes up to take some water and stumbles upon the sight. she greets sae with a nod and a smile, the softest one he’s seen so far.
“my daughter has good taste.”
“that’s a secret.”
sae’s only getting more and more famous as he gets older. a year later and he’s already garnering attention from everyone, with girls lining up to be a possible mrs itoshi.
you’re still unknown; hidden in the crevices, tucked between pieces of signed contracts. you’re dealing with it, it’s fine. it’s going great, only because you’ve learned to get used to it. it was either that or to call everything off, and you don’t want that.
it’s a friday night and sae’s away for another match, this time in london, and you’re watching post-game interviews on your screen while you finish your pack of chips.
they finally get to sae, throwing the normal obligatory questions like how he feels after winning the match, how he feels like being the man of the match. until they start asking personal questions like who he’d like to dedicate his win to.
he dodges the first few easily with vague answers. but then they get even more personal.
“so, itoshi, rumours have it that you’ve been in a long-term relationship now, is that true?”
you freeze up hearing the question, noticing how sae momentarily looks to the right before he rolls his eyes and turns back to the interviewer.
“maybe,” he answers, and you’re surprised. that’s the first time he’s probably not listened to his publicist.
“now who is this lucky lady?”
sae sighs, “that’s a secret.”
his interview ends there as he retreats back into the locker room, your phone vibrating almost immediately after.
one day i’m gonna show you off to everyone.
you smile as you type your response.
sure you want the whole world to know you belong to me?
you expect a retort about how it’s the other way around, but he does one better.
fuck yes.
“you make me lose my goddamn mind.”
you’re both comfortable, twenty-three and lounging in sae’s apartment, curled up in the couch, fingers intertwined and spending a lazy sunday in.
it’s right smack in the middle of his break and you’ve got him to yourself for four entire months. it’s been good, so good.
everyday you’re reminded of why you love him, of why he’s yours. the way he pulls you back against him in the mornings when you wake up. the way he says your name when he’s sleepy, the raspiness in his voice known only to you.
“hey, i’m heading out for a while,” he tells you, slipping on his slides and unlocking the door.
that’s how it usually goes; you’re still not allowed to admit to your relationship, even if sae has hinted at being in a committed relationship. what his publicist considers as minimising risks is that both of you shouldn’t be seen out in public together. that’s why you’re having fun nights out at odd hours and being romantic in private.
sae often just leaves in the middle of the day, some alone time and maybe get some groceries since you can’t let yourself be seen leaving his apartment. it’s not an ideal situation, but you’ll take it. the last thing you want to do is make his life harder.
while he’s gone, you do the chores—make the bed, defrost some chicken breasts, vacuum, maybe wash the laundry. he’s doing his best to learn the right way to do chores (because one time when you asked him to help vacuum he ended up vacuuming the bathroom too), but you find it’s easier if you just do them instead.
usually he comes back by now, takes about a half an hour because his apartment is nestled in the centre of town, surrounded by all the stores and amenities he could need. but you stare at the clock.
it’s been an hour and a half, what’s he up to?
sae doesn’t even respond when you text him. right as you’re about to call him, worried, you hear his keys jangling and the door opening.
you expected to find him carrying a huge bag of groceries with the amount of time he was gone, but he’s empty-handed and you’re starting to think maybe he was hounded by paparazzi.
“did you have trouble with some press?” you ask innocently, mop in your hand.
sae sighs, “fuck no, thank god.” he toes off his slides and tosses his keys on the dining table, taking his cap off and tousling his hair. his pretty pretty reddish brown locks.
“oh, then where’d you go?”
sae smirks at you this time, hiding something behind his back.
“what’re you up to, itoshi?”
he rolls his eyes because you only call him that when you’re afraid. “relax, baby,” he coos, inching closer to you and revealing what he’s holding.
sae’s holding up your keychain; a mini figurine of sae you got from one of the gift shops during his match. but you spot something that wasn’t there before—a key, painted black like the door to his apartment.
“sae?”
“this key’s yours.”
you blink at him, a little stupefied. “sae, did you get lost while trying to find the key copy place?”
sae clicks his tongue, annoyed. “shut up, do you want this or not?” by the way he’s all red, he did get lost.
you take the key from him, suppressing a grin. “aw thanks, now i can let myself in.”
sae sighs again, “i’m asking you to move in, stupid.”
“y-you want me to move in here?”
“yes.”
“like, you want to see my face everytime you wake up and before you go to bed?”
“yeah.”
“you want me to live here with you, together?”
“yes and if you ask anymore i’ll take it back.” because sae’s aware that you’re asking out of disbelief—he loves his alone time yet here he is, asking you to be with him whenever he’s back home. which isn’t that hard to believe for him; you’re the only one he’d ever want to be alone together with.
you giggle, “okay okay, roomie.”
sae only sighs. “you make me lose my goddamn mind.”
“i don’t want this anymore.”
it’s your fault, it’s all your fault.
sae’s publicist is at the house, screaming at the top of his lungs, and by sae’s unamused expression, he’s not having it. he’s just controlling himself so he doesn’t end up getting a lawsuit filed against him for employee abuse.
“who thinks it’s safe to go out wearing their boyfriend’s jersey, which isn’t even for sale yet by the way,” he rants, staring straight at you, “and go down and buy a birthday cake on his birthday and take it up to his apartment, all while knowing that the press is gonna be camping outside the complex?”
he makes you feel stupid.
sae steps in front of you, his broad shoulders the only thing making you feel safe from his publicist’s constant attack. “you yell at my girl one more time and you’re done,” sae threatens, managing to get his publicist to storm out of the house.
apparently, sae had a big endorsement deal all planned with the one stipulation being that he had to appear a bachelor up until the stunt was over. and now his publicist’s mad because that’s all down the drain and his commissions are gone.
“hey, you okay?” sae asks you, gently, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him.
you’re fine, you’ll get over it. it’s just what his publicist said that gets in your head.
it’s like you’re trying to ruin his deals.
being with a famous pro player comes with some form of caution, you know that right?
she’s just in the fucking way!
weeks pass and it’s not easier to drown out the voices. sae’s good at it, so he’s already moved past it, resumes work as per usual, assumes you’re okay too because of the multitude of times you insisted that you are.
but really? it’s fucking difficult.
if you thought you were insecure before everyone knew about you, it’s ten times worse now. while the majority of people are nice about it, saying wonderful stuff like how the two of you are so sweet and look so good together, there’s still so many people who shit on you.
wait, i thought he was with that model from that one shoot? damn, he got the short end of the stick with his gf lol
lmaooo what a downgrade from that other soccer star he was dating
@itosae you okay, dude? you blind or something?
there’s a lot more than that. a lot. some of them even found your account, messaged you directly and said some less-than-nice things.
you keep it all from sae, though. the last thing you need to do is distract him any further, especially when he has the champions’ league coming up.
“i’m fine, mom,” you say one night when your mother calls to check up on you. “i promise.”
you’re a bad daughter, keeping these from your mother who’s just concerned. she isn’t convinced, but she hangs up anyway afterwards, telling you to rest.
it’s easy for things to spiral when you keep them all to yourself. the voices in your head that belongs to sae’s disgruntled fans growing louder, drowning out the words of affection sae tells you everyday.
until one day you think you can’t take it anymore.
they’re all telling you that you’re not good enough, that you’re just a burden. his publicist is nowhere near your side, instead silently siding with the fans who berate you. sae’s oblivious to it all, you think, because he doesn’t do anything about it.
one day you’re just sitting side by side, watching a movie, sae’s arm around your shoulders, his fingers idly twirling your hair.
“sae, we need to talk.”
like the lover he is, he pauses the movie, adjusting himself to look at you. “yeah, what is it?” he’s smiling at you because he has no idea what’s coming.
and you know, you know if you tell him what you really think that it won’t work, so you put on your best game face. truth be told, you’d been building up to this moment anyway, purposely telling him you’d be busy whenever he’s back from his games just so you won’t spend time together. it was all to give him the illusion that you just weren’t interested anymore, no matter how fucked up that sounds.
“i don’t want this anymore.”
sae furrows his brows. “what? what’s this?”
you sigh, feigning frustration. “this, sae. us. i don’t want this anymore.”
“why not?”
“because i’m tired. i’m tired of dating someone who’s half here and half not, i’m tired of tolerating your stupid habits, i’m tired of being with you, sae.” you’re raising your voice, but sae doesn’t flinch. his expression doesn’t even change. you’re beginning to think you broke him, made him malfunction.
when sae doesn’t say anything, you continue.
“i want to break up.”
sae looks away from you, at the patch of rug on the floor beside him, jaw clenched. he blinks a few times before he looks back at you.
“no.”
now it’s your turn to be confused. “w-what?”
sae tilts his head to the side, concern etched in his expression. “i said no, y/n,” he repeats, sighing. he puts his forefinger under your chin, his thumb caressing the side of your face. “who are you trying to fool?”
“i-i mean what i said, sae.”
you’re in disbelief. you hate how he knows you better than anyone else, maybe better than yourself, and you’re beginning to realise no one can come close to sae for you.
“so you don’t love me anymore? don’t wanna be my girl anymore?” he asks, but it’s redundant because he knows the answers. “i love you, okay? and i’d be a shit boyfriend if i let you go like this.”
you’re speechless, so you don’t say a thing, just sit awkwardly in front of him while for the first time in his life, he resolves to being there for you.
“look, i don’t know what mean things people are saying online, but fuck them,” he tells you.
“sae, it’s not easy,” you sniffle.
“then talk to me, and stop shutting me out, you idiot,” he chastises, and you find yourself falling onto him. “i fired my publicist too, by the way. couldn’t stand him spouting shit about you even after i told him to shut the fuck up.”
you laugh at his exasperation, your chest somehow feeling lighter.
“and, do me a favor? ignore the mean comments, yeah?” sae tells you, softer this time. “i kinda don’t ever wanna lose you, so.” he has his head resting on top of yours, your fingers intertwined and your heart soaring.
until now, you’d thought it’d be easy to drive sae away. you thought if you’d been enough of a nuisance, an eyesore, that he’d just take your word for it and run, that he’d throw a fit and let you leave.
but he doesn’t.
sae stays. and he tells you to stay. because he doesn’t know much about laundry, or how to handle feelings, but what he knows is how to love you. he knows what you need and he knows what you’re thinking, even if he doesn’t necessarily tell you about it.
and sae is a bitch to the world. he’s not the friendliest to fans nor does he care about making friends or enemies.
but to you, he’s everything. he says no to either of you straying and he says yes to whatever you ask except when it doesn’t make sense and you never knew that this was the beauty of being with someone who wants you—in every sense of the word.
there’s a certain threshold to pass before you can see everything clearly. suddenly it’s like the mean voices are faded into the background, and suddenly sae’s love is all you hear, and nothing is blurred because now all you can think about is how even if the world fails you, sae never will.
“hey, sae?”
“mhm?”
“thank you.”
he smiles against your head and you can feel it. “i love you, stupid.”
and you love him; recognising your handwriting and sweeping you off your feet. you love him; braving your parents, living his dreams. you love him; protecting you and showing up at your door. you love him; bashful yearning and unwavering emotions.
so you kiss him in response, and that’s all he needs to know that you’re with him for life.
#itoshi sae x reader#bllk x reader#sae x reader#blue lock x reader#sae itoshi x reader#itoshi sae fluff#itoshi sae imagines#blue lock fluff#blue lock imagines#bllk fluff#sae itoshi x you#sae itoshi x y/n#bllk x you#bllk x y/n#sae x you#sae x y/n#૪ aeri’s fics !
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✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes, AGAIN AGAIN✦
Ghost: Release me, woman.
Fem!Y/N: …. *hugs him tighter* :3
Ghost, scared of intimacy: UNHAND ME!-
--
(Comedic Death Mention)
Someone: I shot you six times hOW ARE YOU ALIVE?!
Y/N: Fool! The only one that’s gonna knock me off is ME!
Price: *PANICKING*
--
Gaz: What did you do?
Soap: ….suckdickonaccident
Gaz: What?
Soap: Sucked dick on accident!
Gaz: HOW THE FUCK DO YOU SU-
--
Gaz: Here. We’ll put your phone on the aux-
Y/N: NO DON’T-
Speakers on full volume: FUCKFUCKFUCKMEUPANDCUTCUTCU-
Price: JESUS BLOODY CHRIST *shuts off radio*
Soap: *scratching the inside of his ear* Steamin’ Jesus-
Y/N: I tried to warn you!
Gaz: Who listens to Slipknot at 0900?!
Ghost: *raises hand*
Gaz: That’s- okay that’s fair.
Soap: I’ve gone deaf.
Y/N: You’re a bomb tech, it was gonna happen eventually.
Soap: *middle finger*
Price: *disappointed sigh* It’s too early for this-
--
(This one’s kinda sad but I couldn't stop thinkin' bout it-)
Alejandro: You used to be nice…or did you never used to be?
Valeria: …
Alejandro: Oh god…maybe you never used to be…
--
Not a quote but if any of you have heard that audio that’s the names of the Princes of Hell overlayed on Funky Town, please imagine Soap & Y/N dancing to the Funky Town portion while Ghost sits there menacingly. Thank you.
--
(Depression joke)
Y/N: Ahaaaa I’m soooo unwell.
Price: Go to the psyche-
Y/N: Ya know what it never was? That serious. It was never that serious-
Price: Get your ass back here-
Y/N: NEVER!-
--
König: I’ll keep all my emotions right here, and then one day, I’ll die.
Horangi: No-
--
(Valeria has no color here, I ran out)
Valeria: *eye roll* I am not trying to seduce you.
Y/N, bi panicking: ….
Valeria, but now smug: Would you like me to seduce you?
Y/N: *strained wheeze & squeaky* Already achieved ma’am-
Gaz: *listening to a mic implanted on Y/N* God damnit dON’T LET YOUR MOMMY ISSUES RUIN THIS MISSION!
--
(These next two have mental health jokes in’em)
Y/N, hyper cleaning the base: AHAHA, yes! I’m finally feeling bett- ah, wait. I’m manic, and I’m hyper cleaning everything, ✨as a diversion✨.
Price: P s y c h e .
Y/N: Jokes on you, old man. I already have meds for this! …might need to up them though they feel like they’ve stopped working.
Price: When did you start to feel they weren’t working?
Y/N: Like three months ago.
Price: PSYCHE
Y/N: ASKING THEM QUESTIONS ABOUT MEDS ARE SCAAAARRYYY
Price: YOU KILL MEN ALMOST EVERYDAY
Y/N: Fair point.
(Take ya meds)
--
Price: I don’t understand you-
Y/N: Good! Means you’re probably mentally well.
Price: I-
Gaz: We really need to like- specify when you’re joking and when you’re serious, you’re gonna give him a heart attack.
--
Gaz: …Hm.
Price: You’ve been staring at me for the past six minutes, what is it?Gaz: I think you have a grey hair.
Price:
Y/N, speeding in: WHICH IS TOTALLY FINE, IT’S BARELY EVEN THERE AND EVEN IF YOU WERE GOING GREY IT’D LOOK FANTASTIC ON YOU.
Price: …would it?
Y/N: Absolutely! …*thumps Gaz in the back of the head*
Gaz: Ow-Uh yeah! Yeah! Actually I don’t even think it’s there, just the lighting.
Price: Hm…alright.
Y/N: Mhm! *death glare*
Gaz: *mouthing* I’msosorry-
--
(Will someone please notice that I write Ghost as "Simon" when he's with Soap and they're being soft? It's intentional-)
Soap: I’m not really sure what I’d do if I lost you…
Simon: I know what I’d do.
Soap: What?
Simon: I’d find you.
--
Soap: I got my ankles microwaved.
Ghost: X-rayed.
Soap: They took my blood away for science!
Ghost: Cholesterol tests.
Soap: Si had his sinuses…removed?
Ghost: Looked at.
Soap: Some guy looked at my penis, touched it. That was weird.
Ghost, cleaning blood off a knife: That guy wasn’t even a doctor.
--
Medic!Y/N: You think killing is hard? Try healing something. That is hard, that requires patience.
Alejandro, watching them bandage his hand: Hm…
Medic!Y/N: You can break something in two seconds. *vaguely motions to Ghost, then Price, then at a necklace Alejandro wears that came from Valeria* But it can take forever to fix it.
Alejandro: …aye…well said.
--
Gaz: *being annoying and singing a song for the 10,000th time*
Price: KYLE!
Gaz: I’m watchin’ my tone, dunana. I ain’t talkin’ back, no, why? Cause I’ma get thrown, dunana-
--
Graves: You know, Ghost, real talk bro, you never say nothin’ when you’re around us. Why is that?
Ghost: Cause I don’t fucking like you guys.
--
Enemy: I’m gonna send you to God.
Y/N: God? I’m insulted you think I’d end up in Heaven. I work hard for my sins, thank you very much.
Ghost: We are hostages right now, can you please not-
--
Valeria: And guess who gets to be my little helper.~
Y/N: It’s me, I’m the helper…
Valeria: That’s right, you sure are.~
Alejandro: Alright that’s enough!
Valeria: What? You don’t believe in positive affirmation?
--
Rudy: Me gustan los perros.
Alejandro: Me gustas…
Rudy: ….hm. Me gusta un hombre en el ejército.
Alejandro: Aye?
Rudy: Mhm.
Alejandro: *chuckles* Me gusta mi mejor amigo.
Rudy: Me gustas.
(This was poorly translated but listen, I tried for the gays)
--
Price: You actually were telling the truth.
Valeria: I do that quite a lot, you people are always surprised.
--
Laswell: Don’t pull any of those stunts like you did last time.
Fem!Y/N: I made an offering.
Laswell: You dropped a dead mouse into that poor man’s lap.
Fem!Y/N: Yes! Like a cat.
Laswell: You are not a cat!
Fem:Y/N: No…tragically, I am a woman.
--
Ghost: Some people are simply…better than others.
Graves: You really think you’re that much better than me?
Ghost: Oh I think we both know the answer to that.
--
(Needing to fake a date for a mission)
Y/N, on the phone: Laswell, I don’t need help with dating. I’ve been on loads of dates!
Y/N: *turns and whispers to Gaz* I’ve literally been on one.
--
Enemy: Think you can answer questions without the usual level of sarcasm?
Y/N: If you can ask them without the usual level of stupid.
Enemy: Where’s your captain and why hasn’t anyone been able to contact him?
Y/N: I dunno, I’ve been here, haven’t seen him in days.
Enemy: Is he drinking again?
Y/N: What do you mean again? He never had to stop.
Enemy: But he did have to slow down, is he drinking like he used to?
Y/N: Alright, how bout this? Next time I see him, I’ll give’im the field sobriety test, okay? We’ll do the alphabet, start with F & end with U.
--
Graves: And that’s why I personally, don’t agree with your opinion.
Soap: Okay, counter point-
Graves: Valid argument?
Soap: No. Pipebomb!
--
Gaz:
Y/N:
Gaz:
Y/N:
Y/N: I’ma instigate.
Gaz, lightly pulling them back: nnnnoooooooooo-
--
Y/N: Eeraaawr >:3
Gaz: What sound is that?
Y/N: A dyianosaur
Gaz: A what?
Y/N: Dianoswaur.
Gaz: Make the sound again.
Y/N: Uurraawer
Gaz: Oh you talkin’ bout them things from ✨Jerressi PerAHck✨
Y/N: AHAH!
Ghost: I’m gonna lose it.
Soap: Hush yer mouth, it’s cute. Lighten up ya big log.
--
Ghost: I think I’ve finally had enough.
Y/N, getting his antidepressants: I think you’re full of shit.
--
Medic!Y/N: C’mon, stick with me, Ghost.
Ghost: Might be time to follow my call si-OH FUCKING HELL WHY
Medic!Y/N: You listen here you Fuckin’ bastard, I’m gonna love the absolute shit out of you until you never make a joke like that again. And then, if you still do it, I’ll have the team smother, smother, you in affection. And if you STILL don’t get it, THEN I’m gonna whoop your ass. Shut your perfect fucking mouth, you got that, soldier?!
Ghost: ….since when did you get scary?
Medic!Y/N: Adrenalin keeps people alive and sometimes we run out of epipens, had to substitute somehow.
--
Price: Now, sergent, what would you rather be? A lion or a panda?
Soap: Captain, I’m me. Why would I want to be anything else?
Price: I’m not sure you realize how psychologically healthy that is.
--
Ghost, pissed off: Sometimes I can’t stand you.
Y/N, while walking away: Then kneel! And while you’re down there, occupy your mouth, you’d do better down there, QUIET, anyway!!
Ghost: I-……
Soap: Oooooo….
Gaz: I- I-…they have no fear. None. Absolutely no survival instinct, no self preservation. None!
--
(Younger Y/N as in like…mid-late twenties. Also, this one is long. I might honestly make a lil oneshot with this one and I welcome anyone else to do the same)
Y/N: John…
Price: I know, I know. You love me. You’ve said it a thousand times and it should just stick, I just…can’t help but think about how you’re so…
Y/N: *snort* Out of your league?
Price: To put it bluntly.
Y/N: Well, regardless of where I rank? I still love you. I’m going to love you for a long time, you’re stuck with me, ya sweethearted bastard.
Price, fondly: Ah Dear, whatever will I do.
Y/N: Yeaaaah. Besides! Even if I wasn’t completely and utterly, disgustingly, in love with you? …you are way too good of a sugar daddy to ditch.
Price: Hah! Oh really? Why’s that?
Y/N: Are you kidding?! Paid off house, paid off car, successful military captain, great manners, great dick, extremely attractive, good with kids, good cook, sexy voice. I could go on for awhile.
Price: Oh now you’re just feedin’ my ego.
Y/N: Yes, yes I am.
Price: I’ll get cocky.
Y/N: You’re sexy when you’re arrogant too, that doesn’t deter me.
Price: *sigh* Far out of my league.
Y/N: You’re a rank climber, I think you’ll keep up.
--
(NSFW but it's in a ha-ha funny way, based on a conversation I've had. Kink mentions)
Soap: Look, I just...I need advice on how to spice it up in the bedroom.
Y/N: Do you know how little that narrows it down?
Gaz: I feel there are few options.
Y/N: No there are a lot of options, it depends on your level of spice. I dunno your boundaries wit'cha man!
Soap: I just need something!
Y/N: THERE ARE A LOT OF THINGS! Get some handcuffs, grab a vibrator, TRY ANAL, I don't fucking know!
Gaz: *chokes on drink*
Soap: Okay, listen-
Y/N: No, you listen. Rule of thumb with kinks? It's a mountain and there are three kinds of people on it. People who don't wanna climb, people who want to climb but choose not to, and people who stay climbing. You reach a level of kinkiness and you stay there. You can't go back down the mountain. Me, personally? I have chosen to stop climbing because I know I'll get worse. I'm choosing to stay on my part of the mountain. Where you wanna climb is up to you.
Soap: Where do I climb then?
Y/N: The beginner's trail is fuzzy handcuffs, orgasm control, and mirror sex.
Soap: This is the weirdest advice I've ever gotten.
Y/N: It's my specialty.
--
(Follow it up with an asexual joke)
Graves: Are you fighting the urge to make out with me right now?
Y/N: Not really, I'm really into this pizza though.
Soap, in the back: Aw they burnt my fuckin' cookies! Assholes.
Y/N: Karma.
Soap: It is not my fault I ate the last slice of cake, I didn't know it was yours-
Y/N: IT WAS LABELED!
Soap: I DIDN'T SEE IT!!
Graves: *slowly backs away*
--
Y/N, holding up a coffee pot: Anyone want more coffee?
Price: No, we've all had ours.
Y/N: *takes off the lid* Cool.
Gaz: What are y-NO!
Y/N: *chugging from the pot*
Ghost: ...This is the peak of mental illness.
Price: PUT THE DAMN POT DOWN!
Soap: This is the scariest thing I've ever seen them do-
Y/N: *fighting to finish the coffee as Price tries to get it away from them*
#incorrect cod quotes#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#captain john price#john price x reader#john soap mactavish#soap mactavish x reader#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#alejandro vargas#alejandro vargas x reader#rodolfo rudy parra#rudy x alejandro#valeria x reader#valeria el sin nombre garza#phillip graves#ghostsoap#konig call of duty#horangi#call of duty x reader#call of duty#call of duty x y/n
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Hello I saw your event and got interested! I was wondering if you could do #24 with Idia (romantic, fluff, and suggestive if possible) with fem!reader?
idia shroud x f!reader
[tags] – romantic, fluff, suggestive
[wc} – 3, 241
prompt 24: “I'm so happy that you confessed first.” “Why?” “If I had to dig out another hydrangea petal from my teeth, I was gonna lose it.”
notes - the only way to write idia is kind pathetic like a wet cat. i love pathetic men
a floral inconvenience
According to legend, a Japanese emperor gave blue hydrangeas to the girl he loved, to apologize for neglecting her and to show how much he really cared for her. Their petal shape resembles a beating heart.
Idia thinks that he was cursed in a past life for doing something awful. Maybe he kidnapped someone’s kid and tried to kill them. Maybe he tried to overthrow the gods and take over himself, but failed miserably. Or maybe, worst of all: broke someone’s limited-edition, vintage Tokyo Mew Mew Ichigo figurine.
He sure as the underworld that he did something, why else would he be puking up hanahaki flowers like some cringey Canon x Reader fanfic?
“Big Bro! You really should go to the school infirmary, the petals and stems can cause irritation and damage to the trachea and nasopharynx if not treated properly!”
Ortho was currently hovering over him, fretting like a mother hen over her chick. How ironic, Idia thought as he picked at the petals still in his teeth, it was for the little brother to be caring for the elder.
“Why do that when I can just have the school delivery bots bring me medicine. Then I won’t have to interact with anyone, I’d literally DIE if anyone saw me like this…”
Especially if the Prefect saw him. The image of her sweet face, and beaming smile…like a scene from a shoujo manga, flooded his mind. He could practically hear her voice, full of concern, asking, “Are you okay, Idia?”
Idia fell into a sneezing fit, petals flying from his mouth and nose as his sneezes continued, one after the other, until he was also thrown into a hoarse, wet-sounding cough.
“Big Bro! That’s it, you’re going to the nurse!” Ortho, despite being quite small, grabbed Idia by the back of his striped pajama shirt, much like one grabs a wet cat by the scruff of its neck.
“UUuuuuuuuuuughghuguguguhidonwannaaaaaaaaAAAAAHHHh!” Idia cried out in a whiney, high-pitched tone.
His brother, perhaps taking pity on his brother, took the shortcut to the infirmary, cutting directly pass the buildings and fields as Idia’s arms and legs loosely flew like cooked spaghetti noodles. Flying through the window that Nurse Goethel often kept open for fresh air, Ortho plopped Idia into a spare bed, who collapsed like a ragdoll into the thin mattress.
“I’ll go check you in with the Nurse, I’ll be right back, please make yourself comfortable Idia!”
Idia gave a muffled grumble as a response, shoving his face further into the hard surface of the bed with a sense of dread. He could hear Ortho speak with Goethel at her desk.
Well, he thought, at least she won’t see me looking all gross and lovesick like some normie—
“Idia, oh my god, are you sick?”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—”
A shrill, ear-splitting shriek left his mouth as the flames of his hair blew up into a blazing hot pink. Idia bolted him, a sharp pain hitting the top of his head as he heard you yelp. As he rubbed the pained spot, Idia noticed that you too were rubbing your chin. Oh Sevens, he hit your chin with his big, stupid head.
“Ooowwwww, damn Idia, you hit hard…” you hissed, though you gave him a sweet smile in reassurance.
“It’s fine, I shouldn’t have scared you…though why are you covered in flowers?”
Idia froze, debating on whether or not he should open his mouth and potentially say something damning, or just stay quiet and hope you’d just get weirded out and leave.
“Because he’s an idiot who didn’t come to immediately see me at the first petal cough!”
The nurse came up to Idia with a disapproving glare, handing you a clipboard and pen before slipping on a clean pair of gloves.
“Prefect, please check the boxes for every symptom I find. I believe I know what it is, but we need to check all our bases.”
Idia peeked at you from the corner of his eye as you smiled at him, waving your fingers as the nurse whispered a spell to turn her magic pen into a makeshift flashlight.
“Now, open up and say ‘ah’ so I can see what those flowers are doing to you.”
Following her instructions, Idia tried his best to be a cooperative and willing patient, if just to get out of here faster. Unfortunately, your presence only seemed to make it harder to do so, as hydrangea flowers bloomed from the pores of his skin, focusing particularly around his hands and neck.
The nurse, he’s sure, could also see the magic sparkles forming as a new bouquet formed through his throat and shot up his mouth. She tsked, leaning back to allow Idia to hack out the now decent sized hydrangea bouquet. They were a vibrant blue, much like his hair.
“Ah, go, go on and let it out.” The nurse waved a hand at Ortho. “Dear, please fetch your brother a cup of the tea I have brewing at my desk. Prefect? Please note that the patient has no evidence of root growth in his throat.”
“Root growth!? Is my brother going to be okay?” Ortho worriedly rushed over, the tea spilling over the rim of the foam cup. “Is it a curse or disease? Is my brother growing a plant in his lungs!?”
“Ortho, you scanned me earlier this week, remember?” Idia hoarsely replied, taking the tea to gingerly sip at it. “Nothing in ‘em, or my stomach ‘cept ramen noods.”
“A WEEK?!” The three of you flinched at the shrill gasp of Goethel, who was glaring daggers at Idia. “Mr. Shroud, you’ve been sick with an unknown flora disease and you didn’t even bother to let the staff know? What if you were contagious!!”
Idia shrank into himself as he whispered, “It’s not like I leave my room…”
“Bateria or the pollen could’ve gotten into the air vents and infected the rest of your dorm, ugh.” The nurse sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before addressing you. “Miss Y/N, if you mark down the lack of root growth, fever, and magical origin of the flowers, what do you get?”
He watched as you flipped through the clipboard, smile slightly faltering as you read one of the papers. You cleared your face briefly, before smiling politely back at the nurse and Idia.
“Based on everything, it seems that Idia most likely has the flower sickness, also known as the love sickness, petal fever, or, most commonly, hanahaki.”
Idia cringed at the cold, monotone sound of your voice. Now he’d done it. You knew, somehow you knew that he had the biggest, fattest, most twitterpated-full crush on you. No, crush was understated. He had dreams of you, the cringiest, domestic fantasy-based shit where he’d imagine you, waking up in bed with him back at the Island of Woe. You had given him a sleepy smile as you curled into side, naked. With a smile and a kiss to his lips, dream you turned over to hover over him, trailing small kisses and love bites down his body, further and further as you whispered to him, over and over, “I love you, Idia—”
A queasy, dizzying feeling fell over Idia as a particularly painful croup caused him to double over and vomit last night's dinner alongside blue, heart-shaped petals.
“Idia!”
“Big Brother!”
“Shroud—Prefect, hold his hair back! Ortho, grab the trashcan, I’ll go get some cleaning supplies and new sheets.”
Nurse Goethel barked orders to the other two, who quickly jumped into action. Idia could feel a shiver as he felt your hands softly grasp his flaming hair, fingers grazing his cheek as you tucked his bangs behind his ears. He could barely make out your coos, no doubt comforting him. You must be disgusted seeing him like this, having to care for a sopping wet cat of a man. Ortho was holding the trash can, right on time for Idia to hurl some more flowers and stomach acid.
“Oh, Idia…you poor thing.” You whispered into his ear, unintentionally causing his body to warm up and a chill go down his spine to settle in his abdomen. He was very aware that if he turned his head to look at you, he’d get a faceful of your chest like some harem isekai protag, the thought making him warm further and his tips pink again.
“I didn’t realize you were feeling this bad, Idia…” Ortho murmured, guilt in his voice. “I should’ve brought you sooner…”
“N-no…” Idia gravelly replied, wiping his mouth clean. “It’s not your fault Ortho, don’t beat yourself over it.”
Ortho still looked guilty, but nodded in affirmation, glancing at briefly at the Prefect. His gaze flitted between the two, and Idia could briefly see Ortho’s eyes go blank, as they did when searching through his knowledge database.
“Miss Prefect!” Ortho chirped, voice now perky much to Idia’s concern. “May I ask for a spare infirmary shirt for my brother? He must be very uncomfortable in his soiled one!”
Idia was now firmly and acutely aware of your hands still on him, thumb rubbing soothingly into his temple.
“Oh, of course Ortho.” You moved away, hands hovering for just a moment, as you replied, “They’re in the storage, I’ll be right back!”
Idia watched as you walked away into the infirmary storage. Ortho did as well, waiting until you were out of earshot to excitedly whisper, “Idia! I know it’ll be an easy fix!”
“Huh?” Idia rose an eyebrow at his brother, confusion setting in.
“It’s a love sickness, and you love the Prefect—Idia stop looking at me like that—so if you confess to them, the flowers will go away!”
Idia was still giving Ortho a horrified look, as he continued.
“Based on the timing of your reactions in correlation with close proximity within the Prefect, along with your increased heart rate at their touch, speech, and glances, and the fact that the Prefect stated on December 15th at 11:18:53 pm that she likes hydrangeas, she is the cause of the sickness. Right?”
“Ortho!’ Idia hissed, grabbing at his brother to shut him up despite Ortho not technically having a mouth.
“Quiet down, this isn’t some otome game where I can cheat and look online for the right responses. Did you see how she reacted earlier when she found out it was hanahaki, how disappointed she looked? There’s no way Y/N—I mean the Prefect, didn’t connect the dots.
“But, Big Brother!” Ortho whined, “Based on her heart rate and increased body temperature—”
“No is no, Ortho! It’s not going to be such an easy fix, I’ll just get rejected!”
“Technically speaking—” Idia and Ortho both jumped at the nurse’s voice, who was coming back from storage with clean linens. The Prefect followed with a new shirt.
“—you don’t need your beloved to accept your feelings, just confess them. Though it’s quite rare that it’s not reciprocated.”
The nurse motioned for Idia to get up as the Prefect handed him the shirt. She began taking the sheets off as the nurse addressed the two brothers.
“Mr. Shroud, if you are insisting on keeping this sickness intact for fear of rejection, then I will have to ask Professor Crewel for some more potent ingredients for your prescription. Little Shroud?”
“Oh, yes Nurse Goethel?”
“I could use your assistance, please come with me, Miss Y/N will tend to your brother,” She had a smug tone and smirk as she said this, motioning for Ortho to follow. “Mr. Shroud, please have no worry, she makes an excellent student nurse!”
Idia let out a defeated, low, whiney groan as he moped over behind one of the privacy screens. You remained quiet as you collected the dirty sheets. He could hear Goethel’s footsteps and Ortho’s fans fade away as they left further and further down the hall. Idia yanked his shirt off, slipping the clean one over his head, noting it was a tad bit too small. He grumbled in annoyance as he pulled the shirt down to cover his stomach.
“Idia?”
“Eeep!” Idia yelped, your voice coming from right behind the screen. “Y-yes?”
“Are you done changing? I can take your shirt to the hamper.”
He hummed in response, peeking his hand from behind the screen with the shirt in hand. As you took the shirt and walked away, Idia slowly moved to look at you. Once he was sure your eyes were firmly ahead (and briefly taking a look at your ass), he launched himself back into bed, the smell of clean linen filling his nose.
Idia sighed, a faux exhaustion settling into his bones as he sunk into the bed. He tensed as he felt you sit on the edge to this right.
“Idia?” you hummed as he closed his eyes to focus on the darkness behind them, instead of you worried expression.
He hummed in response.
“Nurse Goethel said that the remedy is actually quick and easy, right?”
He hummed again.
“You’ll just keep coughing hydrangeas until you do something, right?”
“...Yea.” Idia replied in a monotone voice.
You sighed, a bit in frustration he thinks. “So?”
“...So?”
“Why don’t you?” You stretched out the last vowel with a questioning sound.
“Why don’t I?” Idia mimicked you.
"Why don't you just confess?"
“Wha?” He yelped, looking at you like you’d grown heads like a hydra. “W-what do y-you mean, confess!? Are you crazy?”
You rolled your eyes and sighed, “It would help, wouldn’t it? And Nurse Goethel said it’s rare for it to not be reciprocated, so what do you have to lose?”
“First of all, what’s left of my dignity. Second, I’m not some ML in a romance manhwa. And, third!” Idia straightened up to look you in the eyes, a burst of confidence filling his veins in pure frustration and annoyance. “There’s no way that anyone would be interested in some loser like me, so what’s the point—”
“But I like you!”
Silence fell between you two as the realization of your words settled into both your minds. You, with a growing blush and look of embarrassment, and Idia gaping at you like a fish out of water.”
“Huh.”
“I said,” You murmured, twiddling with the ends of your hair. “That I like you. A lot. I think you’re really fun to be around, you’re even though you're shy and kinda geeky, you’re really passionate about the stuff you like. Idia.”
Your hand reached for his, hesitantly like you were afraid you’d burn him. As you laced your fingers together, Idia felt a lump form in his throat. He kept silent though, watching as you smiled shyly.
“You’re sweet to your brother, and I notice, to me sometimes too. Did you think I wouldn’t notice you coming out to class more often so we could hang? I missed you this week…it was really lonely without you, even with all my friends.”
Still holding his hand, you leaned in closer to his face, looking at him earnestly. Was this real? Did he unlock a secret route with you without noticing? Why did you keep looking at his lips? OMG WAS THIS REAL—
“Idia,” You snapped him out of his thoughts as the distance between you two kept closing. “If the person you like doesn’t return your feelings, then they didn’t deserve you in the first place. I’ll be there to support you, even if you don’t like me the same way, I’ll always care for you as your friend—”
“But it is you.” Idia blurted out. Whether it was due to a mysterious burst of energy or just a slip of the tongue, he didn’t know.
“W-what! Idia, you don’t have to try and make me feel—” you tried to stutter an excuse, cheeks pink like the fiery tips of his hair.
“It’s you! I got this cause of you, cause I knew—I thought,” Idia started to ramble, getting up to grab you by the shoulders and shake. “I thought that you couldn’t like some weirdo like me. Are you telling me I could’ve snatched an SSR level kiss scene with you at any time??!!”
It was your turn to be shocked, a bewildered look in your eyes and Idia rapidly spoke, taking little breaths between sentences.
“Do you know what you do to me?? The thoughts, the dreams I have about you? I see you and get all hot and bothered and you’re telling me that I didn’t have to be some maidenless normie this entire time? I could’ve been lockin’ lips and getting my dick we—”
A sharp shriek leaving Idia’s mouth was muffled as you shoved your lips into his, effectively shutting up his rant. He whimpered as you swiped your tongue along his lips, deepening the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Idia, perhaps in the throes of passion, or not wanting to miss out on this once in a lifetime pull, reciprocated, albeit with a nervous hesitation.
You seemed to approve, pressing your chest against his as your mouth moved against his, tongues dancing and moans being shared between half taken breaths. His hands hovered over you until you let go of his neck to guide his hands and place them over your hips. An arousing moan left your lips as your hands gently pushed his chest.
Idia’s world slightly shifted as he fell back first into the bed, your hair creating a curtain as you separated from him. A line of shiny spit followed you, breaking as he gasped for breath while you leaned back down to press kisses against his neck, flowering the disappearing hydrangeas.
He yelped as your teeth scraped a particularly sensitive spot, opening his mouth to blurt out, “I'm so happy that you confessed first.”
You let out a breathless giggle, turning your head and resting your chin on his neck to look up at him with, he swears on the Star Rouge sequel, hearts in your eyes. “Why?”
“If I had to dig out another hydrangea petal from my teeth, I was gonna lose it.” Idia chuckled, “I’m sorry you have to deal with such a coward like me.”
“Idia.” You firmly responded, “Don’t. I like you as you are. We’re both young, we have time to grow. I’ll grow with you, if you’ll have me?
Looking down at you, practically on top of him, Idia opened his mouth to tease your softness, and suddenly froze. The mortifying, though wonderful he had to admit, scene was dawning on him as his entire body heated up and turned red.
“Uuuuuwwwwwahaaahahahahaha—you’reontopofmethere’sagirlontopofmeisthisanewlevelinyourouteIdidn’tprepareforthis—mmmfph!”
You effectively shut him up with another kiss to his lips, smiling as Idia was shocked into silence with a dopy, wobbly smile forming on his lips.
“Relax, Idia, I’ll take the lead on all the romance stuff until you get the hang of it. For now you can be my player two!”
Idia snorted, smirking at you as he teased, “That’s such a cringey thing to say~”
“You say things like that all the time!”
The two of you shared a soft laugh, unaware of the audience of two at the door watching. Ortho recorded the memory for the wedding he was already planning in his head, while the nurse muttered to herself about wasting time gathering ingredients for a prescription potion she no longer needed. Despite this, she smiled, happy that her little words of encouragement to the Prefect earlier worked.
#twst#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#idia shroud#twst idia#idia x reader#idia shroud x reader#twst idia x reader#suggestive#a floral inconvenience
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fictional boyfriends (e.m.)
summary: eddie gets jealous of your newest fictional boyfriend from a game he got you into.
warnings: kinda sweet. kinda cringe. eddie is jealous of astarion. twilight reference jumpscare. not edited. biting and vague mentions of sex at the end.
wc: 2.5k+
a/n: this is the dumbest, cringiest thing i have ever written. but on this side of town, we embrace the cringe <3 happy valentine's day, enjoy me combining my current favorite fictional men (astarion and eddie) for my own personal delight. maybe one day i'll write a serious fic regarding the biting kink
It’s not that biting had ever been off the table with Eddie, per se.
Nips between kisses, using a little more teeth when he’d kiss across your neck, a joking sinking of your teeth into his shoulder when you were vying for his attention — they were all normal occurrences between the two of you. There was just never much discussion about it. No conversation explicitly had in which the two of you said, “Why, yes. This is something I’d like to bring into the bedroom.”
Until that damn game.
When Eddie introduced you to Baldur’s Gate 3, the last thing he expected was to watch all your free time you used to spend pestering him suddenly handed over to some fictional vampire. He thought it’d be a game you tried, grew tired of, lost interest in, and that was that. Nothing more, nothing less. He didn’t expect a sudden competition for your goddamn affections.
“Baby, please come to bed,” he all but whines as he drapes himself over your shoulders, trying to nudge off your headphones. He could feel just how warm your ears had grown beneath them. He swears he can feel your back crack from the slightest bit of his weight on your shoulders. And, sue him — he was tired and he wanted to cuddle.
“One more minute,” you mumble the same phrase to him that he has used a million times on you; he instantly knows it’ll be far more than just sixty more seconds if he agrees, “Let me just finish this-“
“No,” he’s still whining, but it’s more stern now as he properly removes your headset, earning a glare from your bloodshot eyes, “You’ve been playing this game all afternoon, sweetheart. I think I might die if you don’t offer me some immediate attention. Truly.”
For emphasis, he lays more of his body weight on you, your chair creaking from holding up both of you now.
“Eddie,” you moan out, wiggling beneath his dead-weight, “I swear to God, get off of me-“
“I’ll get off of you if you come to bed.”
You pause. Your hands hover near your keyboard and mouse, but you’re no longer walking your avatar across the world of Baldur’s Gate, and he knows he has you considering it.
More weight. More groans. At this rate, he’s questioning if your chair won’t break from his outrageous method to get your attention.
“Fine.”
The small yes he lets out only earns him a punch to the shoulder. But it gets you off the game, and that’s still a win for him.
He doesn’t even care about appearing over eager as you follow him back to the bedroom. He’s gone as far as preparing the bed, pillows fluffed and comforted pulled back while awaiting your arrival. He’s already washed his face and brushed his teeth (something he usually fights you on as you nag him before bed), and the moment he’s got you in the room with him, he’s dragging you right onto the mattress with him.
“You’re gonna hurt us!” you yelp as he wraps his arms around you and flops down, dragging you with him, but it’s through a laugh. He knows you really couldn’t care less — he’d never deliberately injure you, irritated about your newest fictional boyfriend or not.
“Oh, no,” he mocks, rolling so you’re laying on top of him, “What ever will you do if I injure one of your precious wrists, and you can’t use it to flirt with your new boy toy tomorrow?”
“Astarion would be devastated,” you giggle into his chest, not moving off of him despite all your protests. It’s nice — to feel the full weight of you, to just get to bury his nose in the crown of your head as he shamelessly inhales the sweet lingering scent of your coconut shampoo, “He’s even needier than you.”
“Yeah, ‘cause you serve as his functional juice box.”
“I do not!” you wiggle against him, and it only makes him tighten his arms, “He’s needy because he loves me.”
“Well that makes one of us.”
Your head lifts off his chest in an instant, faux offense shadowing your features, “You tryin’ to say you don’t love me, Munson?”
He smirks, pressing his lips together tightly, making you huff in frustration.
Of course he loves you. There wouldn’t be a ring in his sock drawer that he’s terrified of you finding if he didn’t.
You pout, subtly and adorably so, starting to lift off of him, “If you’re going to be mean, I’m just going to go back to someone who appreciates me-“
“Mean?” he scoffs, enjoying himself far too much. He’s missed your attention, your affection. The effect it has on him is similar to a high, making him dizzy on serotonin as he rolls over and pins you between him and the mattress, “Oh, baby, that’s not me being mean. I can show you mean, if you want.”
He’s always thought you looked prettiest like this. Under him, eyes wide as you look up at him as if he’s the only thing in this room worth looking at. Worth more than your prized bookshelf, more interesting than all the various posters the two of you have hung on the walls. You look at him as though he’s the greatest thing to exist in these four walls, and he doesn’t take it lightly when your favorite albums and candles are right there.
“You don’t have a mean bone in your body, Munson,” you whisper softly, face going soft for him. The two of you are still surely joking around, the playfulness of it all thick in the air, but there’s something genuine in your words that makes him even more enamored with you.
He should have predicted you’d fall for Astarion when he showed you the game. You had a thing for people who put up the tough front, but who really just needed a little extra softness and patience under the surface. He was living proof of it.
Unlike your fictional vampire boyfriend.
“Yeah?” he taunts, leaning down until the tip of his nose brushes yours. His hair works like a curtain, messy as ever as he shields the two of you from the outside world. One of your hands have crept up so that you palm rests against his cheek, and he can hardly remember that flare of jealousy that had gnawed at him when you’d spent your entire afternoon absorbed in the game instead of him, “I bet I could be meaner than Astarion. Although, I’m not sure just how mean that man has ever been to you, given all the war crimes you commit for his approval-“
He’s cut off when the thumb of the hand cradling his face trails up, pressing on his bottom lip. It only makes him grow even closer to you, pressing in, drawn by your touch.
You squint your eyes at him jokingly before cooing, “Someone sounds jealous.”
“Damn right,” he doesn’t even try to deny it, caught in the web of your trap with ease, “Does your pixelated lover even know what a catch he’s got?”
You snort adorably at that. He pulls away to see the full force of your laughter, lifting up into his elbows to admire how your face scrunches with your smile. He bets Astarion would make some sarcastic comment about it — about the crinkles by your eyes that he aches to pepper with kisses, about the indents in your cheeks when you smile this wide, about the sound of your genuine laughter when you unrestrained and entirely comfortable like this. But there’s not a single joke forming on Eddie’s tongue. He’s all but hypnotized.
God, he fucking loves you. So much so he’s jealous of a video game character.
“I’m not sure I’d consider this,” you lift the hand not holding him carefully still to motion at your current state of being, “A catch, my love.”
He has to disagree. Messy hair or not, wrinkled pajamas or not. You’re the greatest catch of this entire existence; not just Eddie’s, but the Universe’s. Nothing you could say or point out would deter him from this belief. He loves you, mess and all.
“My love?” he chooses to tease instead, all the words of affection threatening to choke him if he so much as considers letting them pour out, “I like the sound of that. If that’s the Astarion effect, maybe he isn’t so bad after all.”
His elbows are sinking deeper into the mattress. With every passing second, his face is dropping closer to yours, and he’s not sure if it’s by instinct or choice. But when his lips finally brush yours, he decides it’s all the same — it doesn’t really matter what sort of gravity is at work here, as long as it keeps bringing him down closer to you.
“Shut up about the game and kiss me, Eddie.”
He doesn’t have to be told twice.
The kiss is as sweet as ever. A comfortable dance that still sends shivers down his spine. If either of you looked closer at his arms bracketing your shoulders, you’d see the goosebumps raising as you eagerly returned all his affection.
You taste like the chocolates you’d been snacking on during your gaming. You taste like the greatest gift ever given, and he doesn’t care if he’s exaggerating or not. You’re divine — his favorite good morning and his only goodnight.
And he’d say all that, but you’d probably accuse him of trying too hard to be like Astarion. Probably bring up that ridiculous line the character once said about you being made by the Gods, just to ruin him.
You were, though. Made by the Gods, specifically to ruin Eddie. Fuck the game.
“You know,” he whispers against your lips, breaking for air as he adjusts positions. Your thighs open up and welcome him home, letting him slot right between your legs comfortably. He’s not trying to seduce you, but he can’t even be mad about it. He feels like a starved man now that your attention has been divided as of late, “If you wanted a lover who bites, all you had to do was ask, darling.”
If you weren’t so wrapped up in the kisses he was pressing down your jaw and along your neck, you would have ripped him to shreds for the awful impersonation.
But you’re already far gone, lost in his touches and his adorations. You let the half-assed attempt at a British accent slide, and you even bare your neck to him at the minute threat.
Biting had never been off the table, per se, and Eddie was really fucking glad for it.
When he presses one, two, three greedy kisses to that sweet spot just below your ear, he has one intention in mind. Not his usual sucking and nipping and soothing, not leaving behind one of his ordinary love bites. No, he lets himself get caught up in the moment, and when he catches that quiver of excitement the moment he drags his teeth over your neck carefully, he’s fully committed to his decision.
He bites.
Not hard enough to draw blood, or even be terribly painful. He knows it’s nothing like the game or any of your subsequent fantasies you might have had from it. His canines are fairly dull, even as they dig carefully into the skin of your neck, holding for a moment for effect. But your legs tighten around his hips, and he almost wishes he was a damn vampire, able to actually pierce your skin in the moment. Drink your blood. Whatever the allure was with the origin companion.
You let out a soft gasp which has him keeping your skin between his teeth a few extra seconds, and then he’s letting go. Lifting his head and looking into your eyes, a silent exchange of is this okay?
If the glazed over look is anything to go off of, it’s more than okay.
He returns with reckless abandon, switching between his usual desperate kisses and the newer, sharper ones. He has one goal in mind: to mark you up as his, to the point in which you’ll be scolding him in the morning. It’s like a drug, to feel you writhe beneath him as he paints the picture.
Love notes of freshly born bruises, the imprints of his teeth – a letter across your delicate skin that reads, he was here, and he loved you, more than anyone else in this Universe may ever be capable of.
“If I had known how much biting would rile you up, I would’ve started doing it ages ago,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck, finally pausing his assault.
He settles for softer presses of his lip, peppering the affection where he had been a bit more violent.
Your hands that had taken to tangling into the curls at the nape of his neck have gone more relaxed, no longer tugging but instead just lingering. Pulling him closer. Touching him with softer hands than he’s ever felt deserving of.
“Guess you’ve got a certain vampire to thank for that,” you tease, but he can hear just how breathless he’s left you. He had sworn he could feel the pulse of your facing heart beneath his lips, even if just for a moment. Even if he just imagined it.
“Please. Astarion is not getting the credit for that,” he scoffs, lifting up onto his elbows again to just look at you. His lover, his favorite person. It’s nice to see your face when it’s not washed over with the cast of a computer screen. “That was all me. And even if it wasn’t, I won’t forget that you had a Twilight phase.”
Your hand quickly drops between the two of you, only to smack at his chest. The thump holds no weight as you whine, “I told you that in confidence.”
He dips down, capturing one last kiss, “It’s okay, baby. It’s good to know that you have a type.”
“I do not-”
He cuts you off with a more playful bite to your neck. Less about marking you, and more just to make a point.
“Just,” another nip, “admit,” another graze of his teeth, “it.”
You’re fighting a smile when he looks down at you again, impossible to hide behind your mask of annoyance. “I am not admitting that I have a thing for broody, pathetic vampires.”
“Well, I’ve got broody and pathetic down-”
“Eddie,” your thighs still bracket him, one hand still clinging to the back of his neck. When you say his name, the game is over. “We can spend all night bickering over the fictional men I love, or you can give me a reason to forget their names. It’s up to you.”
His eyebrows jump up his forehead, and he’s just about to give up the bit, but not before one last snide remark.
“Kind of hard to do that when I share a name with one of them, but as you wish, sweetheart.”
Another bout of beautiful laughter from him. Another smack on the chest from you. It’s good – it’s everything Eddie has ever wanted, and it is good.
He does, of course, make you forget their names. And if you find it difficult to get out of bed the next moment, dramatically unable to make the walk to your gaming computer, well – he won’t try to hide his smug smile in between the soft rays of morning light.
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#my writing#ghost's stories#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fluff#this is truly the dumbest thing i've ever written#i almost made it into proper smut but couldn't take the end seriously i'm sorry
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