#Mood: Fandom fury | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lancermylove · 13 days

Text

Moments Ruined (Scenario)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland, Obey Me

Pairing: Leona, Malleus, Lucifer, Diavolo with gn!Reader

Warning: None

Prompt: Someone ruins your romantic moment.

———————————————

The golden hues of the setting sun bathed the courtyard of Savanaclaw in a warm, gentle light, creating the perfect romantic atmosphere. Leona pulled you onto his lap as he sat on one of the stone benches. Just as you leaned in for a kiss, the sound of rapid footsteps echoed through the courtyard.

Ruggie came barreling toward you both with a mischievous grin plastered on his face. "Hey, Leona! You won't believe the deal I just scored at the market!"

Leona groaned, his brow furrowing in irritation. "Ruggie, can't ya see we're in the middle of somethin'?"

Ruggie blinked, clearly oblivious to the mood he had just shattered. "Oh, uh, sorry. But seriously, I got this huge bag of donuts for half the price! Ain't that somethin'?"

"Ruggie," Leona said, his voice dangerously low, "if ya don't leave right now, I'll make sure you won't enjoy those donuts."

You stifled a chuckle, amused at Leona's irritated face and the hyena's happiness. Ruggie's eyes widened, and he took a cautious step back. "Okay, okay, I'm goin'!" he yelped before darting away as fast as he had appeared.

After the hyena left, Leona sighed and turned back to you. "Where were we?" He whispered with a smirk on his lips.

Leaning in closer to him, you close the distance between your lips. "Here."

It was a peaceful evening in Diasomnia. The moon cast a gentle glow over the courtyard where Malleus and you shared a quiet moment. Fireflies danced in the air, the scent of blooming flowers filled the air, and the chilly air caressed your hot skin. The prince was being extra sweet and soft with you as your lips met in a tender kiss. However, the next moment, a scream pierced through the tranquil atmosphere.

"MY PRINCE! STAND BACK. I WILL SAVE YOU!"

Before you could register anything, Sebek charged toward the two of you, his expression a mixture of fierce determination and utter panic. He was patrolling the grounds, but unfortunately, his loyalty manifested at the worst time. Just as Sebek was about to tackle you to the ground, Malleus stood up, lifting you with him, and dodged the tackle.

"Sebek, what do you need?" Malleus's voice was calm, but there was a glint of irritation in his eyes.

"My Prince, I saw this person-" Sebek began, his voice filled with righteous fury as he pointed at you, "attempting to harm you!"

You blinked and chuckled slightly. "Sebek, I wasn't trying to harm him. We were just-"

"Silence, human!" Sebek roared before turning to Malleus, his eyes wide with concern. "Are you alright, my prince?"

"Sebek, you have misunderstood the situation," the dragon sighed heavily.

"But, my prince, I saw-"

"You saw us sharing a kiss," Malleus interrupted a hint of exasperation in his tone. "Not everything requires your intervention."

Hearing the word kiss short-circuited Sebek's brain to the point where he couldn't even yell at you for getting close to the prince. As he walked away, his head spinning, you laughed softly.

Lucifer and you were enjoying a rare, quiet evening in the library. The grand library was bathed in a serene glow from the dimmed chandeliers. While he read, you sat in his lap, snuggled up to him. The Avatar of Pride couldn't have been happier to feel your warmth against him as he held a book in one hand and stroked your hair with the other.

"It isn't often that we enjoy such peaceful moments," he whispered in a low, warm voice.

As you were about to reply, a loud crash echoed through the hallway. Lucifer's eyes narrowed, and his smile instantly vanished. The next moment, the library's door burst open, and Mammon stumbled in, closely followed by a furious Satan.

“You idiot! You lost it again, didn’t you?” Satan’s voice boomed through the large room.

Mammon held a broken vase in his right hand as he quickly hid behind one of the bookshelves. "I didn't lose it! It here...well...kinda." The second brother nervously laughed at the broken vase in his hand.

Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience visibly wearing thin. “Must you two always choose the worst possible moments to engage in your nonsense?”

Satan ignored Lucifer and threw the broken pieces of the vase at his older brother's face. "You know how important it was to me! How could you be so careless?"

Mammon dodged the pieces and tried to escape but stumbled over a stack of books. "It ain't my fault! The vase was cursed or somethin'."

Lucifer sighed heavily as you stifled a laugh at the fight over a vase. He was not in the mood to deal with this and wanted peace, so he scooped you in his arms and walked out of the library to his bedroom.

"What about your brothers?" You asked, surprised by his actions. "Won't they bring the whole house down?"

"It seems as though I forgot to inform everyone that Barbatos is on his way to pay us a visit," Lucifer smirked, knowing that the butler could handle his brothers just as well as he could.

Diavolo and you were in one of the grand rooms in his palace. The gold chandeliers cast a warm glow while the scent of the rose bouquet on the table beside you caressed your nose. With a charming smile, Diavolo reached for your hand and enveloped it in his large one.

"I cannot express my happiness at being able to spend time with you," the prince whispered, his voice as sweet as honey.

"Me too, Diav. This is perfect, and nothing can ruin this moment," you replied with a light red tint on your cheeks.

He leaned closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief and affection. "I have held patience for this moment for far too long."

As your face inched closer to his, you felt his hot breath on your upper lip. The next second, the door to the room swung open with a loud bang. In walked Barbatos, his lips tugged into a deep frown. He held a large stack of papers in his hands as he glared at the prince.

"Young master!" The butler spoke in a scolding tone. "You have yet to complete your duties for the day. These documents require your immediate attention."

Your boyfriend's shoulder dropped as an exasperated sigh escaped his lips. "Barbatos, can it not wait? For just a bit longer?"

"Absolutely not," he replied firmly and shifted his gaze to you. "(Y/n). You are distracting the young master from his duties. He cannot ignore them, even for a romantic interlude."

You stammered an apology while Diavolo continued to plead for a slight break. However, the butler refused to budge or show any sympathy. "A small break? Young master, you have indulged in 'small breaks' all day. The affairs of Devildom cannot be put on hold due to your whims. Now, return to your duties at once, or I shall have to drag you by your ear."

———————————————

➣ Obey Me Masterlist: [1][2][3] ➣ Twisted Wonderland [1][2][3] ➣ Main Masterlist

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #om! lucifer #om! diavolo #obey me x reader #lucifer x reader #diavolo x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #leona kingscholar #twst leona #leona twst #leona x reader #malleus draconia #twst malleus #malleus x reader #twisted wonderland malleus

369 notes · View notes

rqgnarok · 1 year

Text

music to my eyes - jamie tartt

fandom: ted lasso

wc: 4,266

warnings: spoilers for the season 3 finale of ted lasso, jamie being a lil self deprecating. reader uses female pronouns.

summary: jamie has a crush on the band’s bassist.

author’s note at the end!

Jamie’s so, so late.

Roy’s gonna have his balls. It’s the first training for the Queen’s Cup final against Tottenham– their first one without Ted, a little something before the freaking Champion’s League starts next year– and Jamie’s having the worst morning of his life.

He woke up late for his 4 am training that ran long, traffic was absolute shit and now he’s sprinting– not running, cause he’s not allowed to after he and Colin almost ran over the Prince of Denmark while racing each other to the locker room, a story for another day– down the hallway with Roy Kent’s fury just waiting to find its rightful owner.

He didn’t even have time to comb his hair today. It still looks amazing, but it’s the routine that matters. For his mental health or whatever.

Maybe that’s why he feels so jittery and doesn’t look where he’s going as he makes his way to the locker room. Jamie’s got his bag clutched to his chest and his headphones hanging around his neck, his jacket halfway on before he gave up and left it trailing down his side like a sad blanket.

He’s cursing whatever Gods control alarm clocks and traffic and hairbrushes when he knocks onto someone. It’s so forceful it sends them both to the ground with a grunt and a little ah! of surprise. Jamie tries not to grow annoyed and fails. He considers laying on the ground and becoming one with the carpet so he doesn’t face Roy’s justified punishment and sighs out his nose, pushing himself to a sitting position.

“–so sorry,” and it’s a woman, Jamie just knocked out a woman in his rush to work. What’s next? Is he gonna hit a cat with his car? Maybe spit on a kid’s face? She keeps babbling apologies, unaware of Jamie’s foul mood. “–supposed to be at her office but there’s just– there are so many hallways–”

“‘s alright,” he cuts her off harsher than he means to, guilt stabbing at him when she looks at him with wide, remorseful eyes. Jamie sighs, dusting off his clothes and standing, offering her a hand. “Me fault for bein’ in a rush. Should’ve seen where I was going.”

“Oh, god, you actually know where you’re going,” she says with a grimace, accepting his hand. She’s on her feet and standing too close to Jamie for a second that feels like a lifetime– almost nose-to-nose with Richmond’s greatest. Her laugh is stuttery and nervous when she steps back, barely meeting Jamie’s eye.

She’s cute. Jamie’s not planning to do anything about it, especially not with his fine for being late slowly becoming one for missing training but she is. Cute. His mouth lifts in a half smile at the thought, charmed.

“I was looking for Rebecca Welton’s office but I only got myself lost,” she says sheepishly, putting her hair behind her ear every couple of seconds since it keeps stubbornly falling out of place. Jamie’s fingers twitch a little but no. No, absolutely not, he’s not doing this to himself, no sir. “Is there any way you can give me directions without having to go with me? I don’t want you to be late for– shit. Practice, huh?”

Jamie thinks she’s the smartest woman that’s ever walked the face of the Earth until he remembers where they are. At Richmond’s training facilities. She’s looking at a disheveled man in a sports outfit. The story kind of tells itself.

“I– yeah,” Jamie stutters a little, clearing his throat to disguise it. “There’s, um, it ain’t a problem. I can take you there if you want.”

Her entire posture screams relief as soon as he offers, and it’s enough for Jamie to make up his mind even if she hasn’t said yes yet. “Would you? They said in the group chat not to be late and, like, they weren’t specific about it but you just know when a message’s for you, you know. And here I am, late–”

A beat.

“–and rambling,” she smiles at him again, the sight tugging at Jamie’s chest as he stands there like an idiot, his brain rebooting whenever she does it. “Yes, please. I’d really appreciate it.”

And so Jamie asks a kitman to take his stuff to the locker room while he walks her up to Rebecca’s office. His hand hovers but doesn’t quite touch the small of her back while he blabbers his way through small talk. Nice weather, today, innit, traffic was absolute hell though. Oh, you’re not from around here, that’s nice, do you plan on going sightseeing?

He delivers her to Rebecca’s floor to a thankful, ecstatic Higgins, who welcomes her with a hearty shake of the hand and promises that she hasn’t missed anything important. She’s barely able to spare him a smile and a quick thanks before the door’s closed behind them and Jamie’s standing there on his own, smiling at nothing.

He’s still wearing a dopey grin when he finally finds himself on the field, Roy yelling at him to run laps until sundown for being late. His legs are killing him, he’s £200 poorer, and he didn’t even get the woman’s name; but nothing can drag him down from his high and make him forget how she’d squeezed his arm in gratitude, touch warm and calloused against his skin.

The next day Rebecca’s there before practice starts, looking tall and pleased as she claps her hands and shares the big news: since the final of the Queen’s Cup is being held right here at Nelson Road, she managed to get a band to play during the halftime show. They’ll be here the entire next two weeks for rehearsals and staging, so everyone must be on their best behavior if they don’t want their name in the summer transfer market.

Jamie doesn’t connect the dots until he sees her again, this time at a local bar big enough to house less than two thousand people. Keeley hears from Roy who hears from Beard, who heard from Higgins that Rebecca said the secret band was gonna hang around the city for a couple of other smaller, quick gigs.

Jamie manages to excuse himself from video games at Colin’s with the guys and offers himself to Keeley as a buffer between her and Roy at a bar tonight. Though, in Jamie’s very humble and very right opinion, they’re already on their way to getting back together for good.

The band’s gathered a nice crowd, the lighting low and the thrum of the music hammering on Jamie’s teeth. He’s nursing the beer Roy bought him, the man charmed enough by Keeley’s presence that he let Jamie bend his rigorous diet regime. Just for the night.

It takes three songs for the bassist to speak up, a makeshift spotlight landing on her, sweaty and delighted at being onstage. Jamie’s blood rushes to his face and his vision blacks out for a second.

It’s her. No longer is she lost and out of her element, shyly asking a stranger for help. Both of her feet are steady on the ground, the strap of her bass snug around her neck. Her fingers are toying with the strings even when no song’s playing, an air of rightful confidence washing over the room as it takes her in. Jamie isn’t the only one suddenly breathless.

She grins against the microphone, coy. “Thank you so much for having us, Jaded Joker. We’re Karma Police, and we hope you have as much fun hearin’ us as we do playing for you.”

They fall into another song with that quick introduction and Jamie can’t take his eyes off her, barely hearing the song as the world around him slows down. Her clothes and jewelry sway with her to the rhythm of the music, the lights shifting seamlessly into different colors making her look ethereal.

Keeley clocks it in immediately.

“She’s good, huh?” she nods at the stage where Jamie’s stranger is moving to the beat of the bass like no one’s watching, shamelessly enjoying herself and making funny faces at her bandmates. “Fuckin’ smoking, too.”

Jamie only hums in a very Roy Kent-like way, knowing there’s no fooling Keeley fucking Jones. The last thing he needs is to give her details and have her dip a toe into Jamie’s nonexistent love life.

Of course, he doesn’t take into consideration that Roy’s a brazen gossip.

“So,” Sam elongates the word as he’s spotting Jamie on the press the next day, happy watching him grunt at the effort. “How was the band last night?”

Jamie almost drops the damned thing on his chest.

“Roy said you enjoyed it,” he continues giddily like he didn’t almost commit accidental manslaughter by catching Jamie off guard. “Especially the bassist. What was her name?”

Sam fakes confusion for less than a minute before Jamie gives, mumbling it under his breath. He’d been weak and googled Karma Police in the privacy of his car before going home, swiping through the images that popped up until he recognized her face.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N), the article he clicked on informed him. Jamie had repeated the name under his breath just to see what it felt like on his tongue for an embarrassing amount of time.

Thanks to Karma Police’s bassist and lyricist (Y/N) (Y/L/N), the band’s sophomore album New Perspective has found a home in people’s hearts and high on the global charts.

Keeley wasn’t kidding. She’s good.

“Oh,” Sam realizes, some of his amusement softening into genuine interest when he watches Jamie’s face do whatever the fuck it's doing. “Oh, you like like her.”

Jamie immediately flushes under Sam’s gaze, making sure the weight is safe in its place before physically fleeing the conversation. Sam doesn’t mention it to anyone, which Jamie appreciates so badly he could cry a little, but he does find his eyes across the locker room later when Rebecca comes in, four people in tow.

“Everybody, these are the wonderful musicians I spoke to you about the other day,” she says it in a way that screams I’m a pleasant human being and embarrass me and I will end your career right where you stand all at once. “We’re on a little tour of the installations and I thought we’d all come to say hi to wrap it up.”

The boys are charming and welcome them with ease. They’re not one of the most liked teams in England despite their bad runs for nothing, but Jamie’s frozen the second he catches sight of her. She’s a step behind one of her bandmates, shaking hands and smiling politely at conversations while staying slightly in the background, the stage persona from the previous night gone like taking off a jacket.

Jamie takes pride in the way their eyes meet and her tight expression loosens, her smile blossoming into something more genuine, less unsure.

“Hey, stranger,” she says a little awkwardly after having gathered the courage Jamie couldn’t to cross the room and say hi. It feels like they’re alone in a room full of people, and for a second Jamie thinks he sees Sam stealing a few looks, making sure he keeps the others away and distracted for a little privacy. “Did you make it to training the other day?”

“What?” Jamie blanks like an idiot, then shakes his head when he remembers how they met; both of them, late for their respective responsibilities. “Oh! Oh, yeah. I– yeah. I had to run for me life to make up for it, but I made it.”

“Good,” she smiles, shifting in her place. “I, um. I’m glad we get to play for you guys. What you’ve done this past season, getting back to the top, has been unbelievable.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he replies, awestruck, and backtracks when she looks a little apprehensive. She’s doing the hair thing again, combing it back while it stubbornly escapes its place every couple of seconds. A nervous tic, maybe. “I mean– some friends and I, we saw you last night at the Jaded Joker. If anything, it’s an honor we get you guys to play for us.”

“Oh!” she seems pleased, ducking her head at the compliment. Her shoulders loosen again, and Jamie tries not to feel like he just scored a goal against Man City. “Oh, you should’ve said hi! Did you enjoy yourselves?”

“I did,” he says, too soft, and it feels like an admission of something when her eyes search his face, for a moment landing on his mouth before putting herself back together. “Up there, it’s like– it’s like you forget everyone else. You’re made for the stage.”

If anything, (Y/N)’s delight only strengthens, tugging at the neckline of her shirt. Jamie finds himself trying to follow the trail of new skin and flushes as well when he catches himself just in time.

“Thank you,” she matches his tone. “You’d think it’d be nervewracking but it’s… silence. In my head. Does that make sense? I feel like it doesn’t.”

“It does,” Jamie agrees, breathless. It’s exactly how he feels when he gets the ball on his feet, every anxiety and worry and part of him he doesn’t like quieting the minute he steps on a pitch. “I get the same when I play. Peace in the chaos, I guess”

(Y/N) looks at him like she’s discovering the world’s eight wonder.

“Kids!” her bandmate breaks the moment by coming over, arm draped around (Y/N)’s shoulder. (Y/N) blinks, looking a little shell-shocked. “Sorry to interrupt this party, but rehearsal awaits.”

Disappointment claws at Jamie’s belly, but before he can let it fester the conversation continues, bubbly and loud. “Alas! We’ll be done around 5. You’re welcome to visit then. We’re going to the third floor, I think.”

(Y/N)’s only amused at her friend’s antics, even if Jamie’s back to having a knot in his throat out of nervousness alone. Jesus, what’s wrong with him? It’s like he’s eight again and crushing on the cute boy that lived in the apartment in front of the Tartt’s.

“See you then?” (Y/N) says, hopeful, and Jamie thinks it’s only fair he’s brave as well and nods as resolutely as he can.

“I’ll be there.”

He ends up having to ask Higgins for directions, after promising he’s not gonna stir up any trouble at least four times. It takes Roy passing by and giving a few reassuring grunts, guaranteeing Jamie’s best behavior before Higgins gives him the location. When Jamie goes to thank him, Roy only points at him menacingly, though lacking his usual frown, and says don’t fuck this up.

Rehearsals are just wrapping up when Jamie gets there, instruments being packed and people saying goodbye to each other when he makes his way into the room. He immediately finds (Y/N) sitting on the piano playing a complicated melody.

She lights up when she sees him, the music seizing. “You made it!”

Jamie stops her from standing up, instead sitting next to her after she scoots over to give him room. “That was nice. A song of yours?”

(Y/N) shrugs. “Hopefully soon. You never know, when you’re writing. You start working on a song and it ends up being a completely different thing from when you started.”

“Sounds messy,” Jamie says, a little consternated at the thought. Fortunately, (Y/N) laughs.

“It is. Do you play?”

“Fuck no,” he says quickly, then tries to explain himself as she splutters in amused surprise. “I mean, I don’t think I can. It seems pretty complicated. I’ve always been better with me feet.”

He reaches for the keys and begins playing some nonsense, loud and offkey, knowing it’ll make her laugh again.

“No, you gotta–” she cackles, placing her hands on top of his and quieting the dissonant echo of the keys. Jamie feels the tug at his lips, insistent, automatic, the same rush of delight that courses over him whenever he’s in her presence. “Gentle. Be gentle about it, jeez.”

She lines up their hands so her fingers move his and begins playing a quiet, fun melody. Jamie’s doing shit other than staring at her face, slightly twisted in concentration as she mumbles the notes under her breath. G, G, G, F, G, B, G, G…

“I know this one,” Jamie mumbles in recognition. (Y/N) turns her head to smile at him, pleased. “‘s from Nottin Hill, innit?”

“And a million other movies,” she murmurs back, unable to break the spell that’s fallen over the room. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a romantic.”

“‘s my favorite film,” he concedes, finding it incredibly easy to be honest when they’re sitting side by side like this, alone, their sides warm against each other. He loves his teammates, but (Y/N) didn’t know him when he was awful and arrogant, too cocky. There’s nothing she holds against him, no standard he needs to meet for her to be happy in his company. “Cried me eyes out at the end. Though I’ll deny it if you ever ask in front of anyone.”

(Y/N) laughs. “I promise I won’t. It’s a good movie. Doesn’t beat While You Were Sleeping, though.”

Jamie’s expression remains blank. (Y/N)’s face falls into disbelief, her hands tightening against his. “You’ve never watched While You Were Sleeping.”

He’s heard of it, but it’s hilarious to watch her forget herself, any sign of nervousness or polite shyness finally out the window. Jamie likes it– likes her, wants her to be comfortable with him and stop holding herself so tightly whenever she’s off the stage.

“You poor, sheltered boy,” she exhales, aghast. “Holy fuck, I can’t believe I’m about to introduce you to the best romantic comedy ever made.”

Jamie goes to take the opening but stops himself at the last second. He knows this process; the flirting, the leaning in for just a moment so she smells his cologne then pulling away, leaving her wanting more. The asking for a date, a fancy dinner, then taking her home. Sneaking out in the middle of the night, dodging calls until she stops trying to reach him.

He’s been doing it for years. He wants to desperately break the cycle and he wants to do it with her, but does he have it in him? Jamie’s been working on himself harder than he’s worked for anything else in his life, but what if he’s one slip away from becoming his old self? From turning out like his dad?

Sure, the old man’s changed, or– well. He’s trying to. But whether Jamie likes it or not he sees a little too much of him in himself sometimes, and he can’t do that to her. He’s known her for less than a week and he knows she deserves better. Everyone does.

Roy told him not to fuck it up. Maybe this is what he meant.

His expression stutters, shatters, and reestablishes itself in a matter of a moment, a blink of an eye. Jamie knocks his shoulder into hers gently, leaning back into place after a second. He teases: “And who made you the expert, eh?”

Rather than letting it drop, (Y/N) takes the bait just like Jamie knew she would. They stay there until a security guard comes to kick them out for the night, and they talk about everything and nothing. Movies, songs, bands they like, and foods they don’t. Jamie’s favorite players when he was a kid, his hero-like worship for Roy Kent, and how he’s made him a better player, a better man.

(Y/N) shares with him the first time she held a guitar in her hands, the albums she listened to when she was a kid that changed her as a person, realizing she could create magic through words and music. Her favorite cities to tour, how long she’s known her bandmates, how she’d die and kill for them if necessary.

By the time he’s walking into the pitch at Nelson Road two weeks later, the roar of the crowd around him swallowing every other sound, Jamie’s spent every free moment of his time with (Y/N) (Y/L/N). It was unavoidable, helpless as he is in his attraction to her, but Jamie doesn’t know what to do without, as Roy so carefully put it, fucking it up.

It hadn’t helped when (Y/N) snuck into the locker room to wish him luck, showing him the Richmond bracelet she was gonna wear onstage with a roll of the eyes. “Our stylist wouldn’t let me wear the jersey, but don’t you doubt for a second that I’m rooting for you, Tartt.”

Jesus Christ. Jamie had felt his cheeks warm up and dared to thank her with a loud, exaggerated kiss on the forehead that left them both grinning like idiots and Roy staring at them knowingly.

Before Jamie followed his teammates into the field, Roy had pulled him aside with a hand on his shoulder. “Tartt–”

“I know, I know,” he answered a little too self-deprecatingly. “Don’t fuck it up.”

But Roy only raised his eyebrows, realization dawning on his features. “You think I say that because I think you will?”

Jamie mumbled some not-words under his breath and Roy cursed. “Prick. I say it because you deserve good things, dickhead. And you should let them come to you when they do.”

Good things, Jamie thinks after one of his passes gives Dani the first goal of the night. The younger man jumps into his arms while hugging him tight and laughing into his ear, their teammates joining their embrace less than a second later.

He looks towards the general area of the VIP seats where he knows (Y/N) and the rest of the band are cheering them on. He pictures her screaming at the top of her lungs, arms in the air, and being happy for him like she’s known him for all his life.

She might be the best thing. Whether he deserves her or not, Jamie wants her. Wants to be with her, watch romantic comedies until they both cry and spend his free afternoons watching her play the piano while he plays FIFA in the living room. He wants songs written about him that have him blushing whenever he hears them in public and for her to come to his games and be able to dedicate every goal to her he ever scores.

Good things. Yeah, Jamie can get down on that.

“You fucking asshole!” she jumps into his arms the second she finds him on the pitch after the game, a medal hanging from his neck and sweat sticking to his skin. (Y/N) doesn’t seem to care as she lets him lift her in the air, holding onto each other tight. “You did it! You fucking did it!”

“I missed your show,” he replies instead, only a little bummed. He’s seen her play live before but there was an itch under his skin the entire half-time, knowing how close she was and being unable to get to her. Jamie grins. “And stole it, too.”

“There he is,” she teases gleefully. “For a second there I thought you were gonna be humble about this.”

“I don’t even know what that word means,” he says cockily.

“And how’s Mr. Man of the Match gonna celebrate, huh?” she wonders, hitting him lightly on the chest now that he’s put her back on the ground. “A fancy club? Getting shitfaced with the boys? A date with your left hand?”

Jamie puts his hand on hers at the last second, stopping her from pulling away. She sways into him, all traces of joking vanishing from her expression. He forces himself to stay on her face, the urge to look away defeated by how she’s looking at him. In wonder, open, hopeful.

She deserves good things, too. Jamie is determined to be the one to give them to her.

“I was thinking dinner?” he asks, fidgeting a little on his feet. “Maybe a movie? Thought I could see what While You Were Sleeping’s all about.”

(Y/N)’s mouth is fighting against a smile, somewhat hesitant still. Jamie doesn’t blame her, he’s been beating around this bush the entire time they’ve known each other.

“You want any company?” she wonders.

“Well, what kind of date would it be if it was just me?” he forces his features into faux confusion, watching her finally lose the battle and beam like a kid on Christmas. Her fingers twitch where he’s holding onto her hand.

“Not a great one,” she concedes, looking like all of Jamie’s dreams. “How do you feel about Mexican?”

Awful. Jamie feels awful about Mexican. He’s a white sexy boy in all the ways that matter and his taste buds punish him for eating spicy food no matter how much he likes it. But he can compromise. He’s starting to realize there’s very little he wouldn’t do for (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

“I feel fantastic about anything you like,” he answers truthfully. “I’m sure me tongue will forgive me eventually.”

(Y/N) laughs, fingers in Jamie’s hold shifting so she can hold his hand. “I think there’s a good lyric somewhere in there.”

“You plannin’ on writing me a song?”

She smirks. “Bold of you to assume I haven’t yet.”

Jamie squeezes her hand, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

“Can’t wait to hear it, love.”

___

there’s an ache in my bones to make a series out of this fic omg

i can’t believe the show’s over (is it tho????) so here’s some jamie fluff to heal our tender, mourning hearts. as always you’re welcome to tell me what you think and chat jamie and ted lasso as much as you’d like! thank u for reading AND for all the love on my last jamie piece that you can read here!

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

#commissions and asks are open!#leo writes #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #phil dunster #roy kent #brett goldstein #rebecca welton #hannah waddingham #keeley jones #juno temple #sam obisanya #toheeb jimoh #i had so much fun w this i hope i do write more of them #reader insert

658 notes · View notes

thewritingginger · 1 year

Text

18+ Imagine Taiju Shiba...

& you having hate sex.

I finally got around to watching the 2nd season of TR I’ve read the entire manga but seeing my bae Taiju animated got the wheels in my head turnin’ 😩

Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Pairing: Taiju Shiba x Fem! Reader Word count: 1.1k+ words Warnings: 18+, Established relationship, Argument, Dub-con, Dirty talk, Oral sex (M! receiving), Rough sex, Slight degrading, Spanking, Creampie, Poorly edited

Enjoy ~

The two of you had been at each other's throats for the past hour and that’s not even including the car ride home and before. It’s been a while since the two of you had gotten this heated with each other. Taiju was already irritable from the moment he had woken up this morning and you knew better than to poke the bear when he is in one of his moods.

Shit had been going down with the staffing at his restaurant and to top it off there had been some family drama stirring up and the moment you tried to mediate you were in hot water since you first opened your mouth to now in your living room where the both of you are yelling over each other.

“How many times do I have to fucking tell you that it is Shiba family matters. You have no place to stick your nose into it.” That got to you.

“Oh, I’m sorry I was under the impression that I was your family or does this ring on my finger mean nothing?”

“Don’t try to pull that shit, you know you had no business getting between me and my brother.” Back and forth you two go, like a broken record the same words keep getting reused and rehashed—making this mess into a disaster till you finally had enough.

“You know what, I don't have to deal with this,” you say, throwing your hands in the air, “I’m leaving!” Turning on your heel, grabbing your purse off the kitchen counter.

“No the fuck you’re not,” Taiju says, heavy footstep sounding behind you.

“Yes the fuck I am,” you counter but before your hand can touch the front door handle Taiju grabs your wrist and turns your back to the door, his towering figure looming over you.

“You’re not leaving this damn house.” Leaning over you till your noses are centimeters apart, you daringly cross the distance till they are touching.

“Or what?” you taunt, any sane person would know this to be a death wish but you’re too fired up with rage to care which only fans the fury burning behind your fiance’s amber eyes.

In a blink of an eye your body becomes weightless, Taiju lifts you up and slams your back against the door before he takes your lips with his. Limbs tightening, teeth clashing and hair pulling—the two of you become a tangled mess of hot breath and lust.

Sitting on the kitchen counter with articles of clothing falling off by the second, you feel Taiju’s hard cock grinding against you. A strangled cry falls from your lips when he pulls your head back by your hair, his strong hand firmly holding your roots, leaving you little room to move.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you wont be able to walk out that damn door.”

“Bite me,” you say before he cuts you off with his hungry mouth, he takes you back to the living room where he unceremoniously tosses you onto the couch. You watch as he tears off his remaining clothes till he is standing completely naked, his powerful body on full display. Straddling your torso, Taiju yanks you up right by your hair once more and rubs his leaking cockhead against your mouth.

“Open,” he commands, “I’m going to fuck the smart ass right out of this fucking mouth of yours.” His other hand pries your mouth open just enough for him to sheath his thick length down your throat till you gag. You look pitiful with your mouth stretched wide, drool seeping from the corners of your lips and his balls smacking your chin as tears fall down your cheeks. Your hands grip his thighs for support, your nails digging into his muscle so hard you could draw blood.

“Such a good little cock slut. You think you’ve learned your lesson?” he asks, roughly pulling out of your mouth allowing you breath, spit falling from your lips as you gasp for air.

“Go to hell,” you spit. With nothing but a growl as his response Taiju quickly flips you over till you are holding onto the back of the couch. Pulling your work skirt up over your hips, Taiju’s strong hand comes down on your bare asscheek with a hard smack!

Pulling your panties to the side he stuffs his throbbing cock into your pussy and begins to pound into you with as much force as he can muster. Every harsh pump, an expression of his anger.

“Filthy little cunt already soaking wet for me. You like it when I’m rough with you, huh? Like talking back to me, knowing I’ll fuck the brat right out of you?” His taunts hiss between his gritted teeth, his hand spanking your ass over and over again till you cry out.

“Fuck!” you cry, your head hanging down before he pulls it back up till you’re looking at yourself in the reflection of the dark window, his mouth right next to your ear.

“Look at yourself as you take my cock—Shit!” he yells, standing back, one hand in your hair and the other pulling your hips back to him as he watches your greedy pussy swallow his thick length.

“Yes, Taiju! Fuck me like you mean it,” you moan, he laughs at your meager attempts at remaining mad at him but the truth is you love him and you love this. He makes your body feel on fire, the way he uses his strength against you is more powerful than any drug you can find.

“Always trying to act all big and bad but you’re nothing but putty in my hand—or should I say on my cock.” His voice is condescending and annoying but all that goes out the window when he releases your hip to scratch at your neglected clitoris, shooting you over the edge. Incoherent wails and words fall from your lips as he continues to piston his cock in your exhausted cunt and you can hear that your fiance isn’t far behind.

“Fuck, Baby, you’re squeezing my cock so tight,” he groans, releasing you entirely to pull your hips back with both hands, his pumps becoming stuttered and impatient for his end. “You want my cum, Baby? Want me to fill you nice and full?”

“Yes. Yes!” you cry, a second high drawing near. Reaching between your legs you rub your clitoris with quick circles as Taiju finally erupts within you, his hip still using you to milk every drop from his balls taking you over the edge with him one last time.

The two of you are hunched over the couch, heaving for breath, collecting yourselves from your heated joining. Your dazed thoughts are brought back when you feel Taiju’s lips pressing against your bare shoulder.

“I love you,” he grumbles in a low voice, much softer than he was moments before, “I’m sorry.” His apology is sincere, looking over your shoulder you give him a smile.

“I’m sorry too.” Pulling out of you, you were about to go to the bathroom to clean up but Tiaju throws you over his shoulder and heads towards the stairs. “Tai!”

“Sorry, Sweetheart but I still have some anger left to get out.”

I hope you enjoyed it!

Feedback & interaction is alway appreciated!

💛 ~

~ Masterlist ~

Let me know if you want to be part of my tag list [HERE]

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev taiju shiba #tokyorev taiju #taiju shiba #taiju x reader #taiju shiba x reader #taiju smut #tokyorev smut #x reader #x fem!reader #*nsfw

470 notes · View notes

silentsamlikesham · 7 months

Text

I was surprised there wasn't more fics like this for the fandom. Macho boys need to be soft sometimes....

Zoro x Sanji

..................................

Sanji’s shoes click rhythmically off the cobblestone pavement as he stalks towards the ship. His eyes watch the cracks in the ground and the uneven bumps in the stones until they fall away to crooked lines etched into the wood of the dock.

He doesn’t lift his head as seagulls circle him, their sharp eyes catching the few bags Sanji has dangling from his wrists. He doesn’t take in the sight of sailors throwing barrels onto ships or jostling past him in a hurry to grab more rope, and food and booze from the carts that sit on the edge of the ships.

He doesn’t flinch when the seaside breeze cuts through his hair, plastering it across the wrong side of his face as he climbs onto the Merry. Not even the splash of sea water from below, that soils the cuffs of his pants, can rip him from the haze of his foul mood.

The first time Sanji glances up from the floor, is to watch behind him as Zoro reaches the bottom of the rope ladder. He takes a brief hiatus from his gloom to watch smugly as Zoro struggles to use only his legs to get aboard.

One of his arms is coiled around a barrel of beer, the other is weighed down by as many shopping bags as Sanji could throw at him, topped with a box he’s balancing between his bicep and shoulder that contains large heavy pieces of meat.

The swordman seems to sense he’s being watched because he peaks a look up at Sanji, his eye’s just visible under his bandana.

“You going to help me, Curly?”

Sanji tsks loudly, his brief smile at the other’s struggling twisting into a frown again as he remembers just how pissed off he is.

“Screw you, Mosshead.”

The clack of Sanji’s dress shoes echo across the deck of the ship as he storms off towards the pantry, the door to the kitchen banging loudly behind him as it slams shut.

Zoro blinks slowly, shaking his head as he convinces himself not to think too hard about what has set the cook off. Knowing how temperamental he could be, it could be as simple as an eyelash grazed his eye, or maybe he had to buy a bruised fruit or something.

Zoro decides to ignore the temper tantrum and instead focuses on getting over the side of the ship and safely onto the deck. He kicks the door to the kitchen open, not feeling bad when it slams loudly against the cracking wooden wall. It’s not his fault someone had shut it when they knew his hands were full, and Zoro was not dropping any of stuff in his arms until he knew he’d never have to pick them up again.

“Oi, watch it moss for brains.” Sanji snarls, already halfway through unpacking one of the half full bags he’d decided not to throw at Zoro.

Zoro noisily drops everything from his left arm, the sacks opening and almost spilling their contents, while the box dents on one side. With both arms Zoro carefully drops his booze barrel onto the floor, the only thing he cared about getting safely back to the ship.

“What the hell, idiot. You better not have bruised anything.” Sanji seethes, storming forwards, his eyes not even on the products.

It was clear the cook wasn’t upset about the door, or the dropped goods. No, Zoro knew by now his rival was itching for a fight. Well, if that is the case, he’d give him one.

“What’s your problem, Ero-Cook? You don’t like how I handle them, then you carry them.”

Like expected, his blonde crewmate sucks in a breath before he easily spins his hips and launches a kick at the side of Zoro’s head. The hilt of a sword catches the edge of his ankle, stopping the impact by mere centimetres.

“Isn’t your job on this ship to be the pack mule?” Sanji hisses, leaning forward enough that Zoro can feel a flick of spit hit his chin. “Can you do anything right?”

The next few clashes between the pair are nasty. A pinch of hurt mixes with a wave of fury and frustration as Zoro matches the tempo of the other’s hits. They block, dodge and slam into one another, a litter of bruises and bumps being left in the wake of their moves as they throw insults back and forth.

It’s nothing new, nothing unusual between them, but it feels strange to Zoro. Sanji doesn’t feel like he’s letting off steam, not when one shoving kick almost breaks a rib, or when the next kick almost comes crashing down on his skull at practically full force, hard enough to crack bone. The cook clearly seems upset with him.

“What-” Zoro slams the hilt of his second blade into the side of Sanji’s knee, unbalancing him, “is your-” He steps further shoving into the cook and knocking him back onto his ass, the tip of Yubashiri pointing down at him “fucking problem?”

Sanji’s glare trails from the tip of the blade up to Zoro’s face before he growls back “You. You ruin everything.”

With that, Sanji uses a kick to knock the blade away before he pushes forward, barely lifting off the ground as he tackles Zoro at his knees, knocking him onto his back and briefly winding him.

He probably could have taken the hit, but he’s so surprised that he doesn’t even realise what the cook is doing until he feels two sharp knees digging into the inside of his elbows. His arms are pinned, stretched outwards with his swords as far from his opponent as possible, as Sanji sits heavily on his chest.

Zoro’s so startled by the approach that he goes to swing his head, to whip the sword in his mouth at the hot head, but before he can, Sanji has taken the sword away. For a moment, Zoro thinks he’ll join Sanji in feeling murderous, but some of his anger is quenched when he realises the cook doesn’t toss the blade away, but instead places it carefully above Zoro’s head, just out of reach of his mouth.

“You couldn’t just keep your mouth shut at the market, could you?” Sanji pants, pushing as much weight into his knees so he can, watching Zoro flinch as they push through muscle and pinch at nerves.

“What are you talking about, shit-cook?” Zoro tries to move his arms, he knows he’s strong enough to lift Sanji’s scrawny legs off him, but for some reason, nothing happens.

“You just had to butt in about booze right as I was getting somewhere with that beautiful blonde-haired beauty. You had to open your stupid mouth and ruin it.”

Sanji thinks back to the lady, all curves and soft lines and a small timid smile. The brief laugh she paid him for a weak joke was enough to make Sanji float. He’s sure he could have charmed an evening with her while they were stuck on this island, but big mean and green had to ruin it all, as usual.

“That’s what this is about? You striking out with yet another clueless chick?” Zoro continues to struggle, becoming perplexed that his strength seemed to have left him.

“Don’t call women demeaning shit like that.” Sanji snarls, only refraining from hitting the green bafoon when he notices the other looking worried at his arms twitching uselessly beneath Sanji’s hold.

“It’s not going to work, Mosshead. I’m leaning on a weak point in your arms.”

Zoro’s attention turns back to Sanji, his brows furrowed in thought as though he wasn’t sure to believe the blonde or not.

“Apologise, and I’ll move.” Sanji bargains, his temper subsiding as a feeling of victory settles in his chest.

“Eat shit.”

Sanji grins at the discomfort on Zoro’s face, the sweat breaking out across his forehead as he struggles to get himself back in a position of power. The blonde decides to lean his upper body back, a show of how long he is willing to wait for Zoro to cave. His hands fall lazily behind him as he goes to rest one of them on Zoro’s stomach.

The movement surprises the swordsman, the hand going unnoticed until he felt gentle fingertips dragging across his ribs, pushing at the taut skin. The lack of sight, mixed with an unusual place for Sanji to touch him is enough to cause Zoro to flinch, to let the smallest involuntary gasp through his lips as his breath hitches and his eyes widen in genuine surprise.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

Maybe he didn’t notice?

“Oho, what was that Marimo?” Sanji, having literally felt the hitch in breath beneath him, stares curiously at his hand, then looks back at Zoro’s face, the faintest dusting of a blush growing on his cheeks as he suddenly refuses to meet Sanji’s face.

The cook might have just taken the reaction as having hit a bruise, but the discomfort on Zoro’s face makes Sanji curious. So, he does it again.

This time his fingers brush relentlessly over the spot, the touch getting softer as he realises it elicits more of a reaction from the man beneath him. Sanji can’t help the grin that spreads out across his face as the pieces start to click together.

“Oi, Marimo.” Zoro glares a hole through Sanji as he meet’s his gaze, his blood boiling at the sight of the smug expression on the assholes face. “I didn’t know moss could be ticklish.”

Zoro tries to keep his face neutral as he opens his mouth to deny it, to tell Sanji he’s an idiot and to get the fuck off him before he skewers him, but before he can…Sanji squeezes his hip bone, his long fingers coiling into the exposed hollow of his hip.

He thought with all his hard work and training over the years that he could have held back his reaction, hardened his mind until he felt nothing. It doesn’t work. Not with Sanji’s weight holding him down, his arms and swords useless for once, his rival’s touch soft against his skin. This was new, this was terrifying, and this was something Zoro had never prepared for.

He lets out a bark of laughter, his face whipping to the side in embarrassment and panic as he tries to will the flush climbing up his neck away.

Sanji forgets to be angry, forgets he was ever upset, forgets completely about the blonde that started this whole scene. He can feel the echo of the laugh through Zoro’s chest, can feel the panicked breaths that follow against his thighs. His eyes are locked on Zoro’s watery smile, not used to seeing such a shy grin on the swordman’s face.

He squeezes again, Zoro’s eyes twisting shut as though not being able to see what was happening would be enough to make it go away. He loosens his grip slightly, scratching the area instead, his nails bluntly dragging across the cotton of Zoro’s shirt as a groan from his mouth turns to soft giggles.

Sanji is pretty sure he’s forgotten how to breath. It’s like he’s afraid to. That he’ll make too much noise and miss a single sound coming from Zoro’s lips.

“Didn’t think a brute like you could giggle.” Sanji teases eventually, pausing his assault long enough to see if Zoro will answer him, if he is capable of speech.

Zoro is pretty sure he’s going to die. His chest is tight after less than a minute of this. He can’t think, he can’t breathe, his hip feels like it’s been electrocuted and now Sanji’s words are burning him. He can feel the heat radiating from his skin, the tension in his limbs will surely snap at any moment. When it does, it’s likely he’ll melt into the wood of the floor.

“What, no quip back?” Sanji is laughing now, joyfully too, not his usual cruel cackle that he uses to taunt Zoro mid-fight.

“Shu-huh-ut up!” Zoro gasps, trying to regain his composure.

He can’t remember the last time someone had pinned him like this, and certainly can’t remember a time when someone ever tickled him like this. He hadn’t even considered he was ticklish, not since he’d grown up.

“Aw Marimo, that’s not very nice.” Sanji’s eyes are practically shining as he leans back with both hands now on Zoro’s stomach, all ten fingers curling into the soft dip just below Zoro’s abs.

Zoro’s eye’s practically bug out of his head at the sensation. Any thought of shutting down his nervous system disappears as he lets out a stream of loud laughter, his legs curling and kicking out behind Sanji, his back arching off the ground, nearly hard enough to push Sanji off him. But the blonde was able to stay on top, his laughter joining Zoro’s.

“Oh, mosshead. I think I’ve found a way to indefinitely win our little fights now. Let’s hope no one outside the crew finds out about this, eh?”

Sanji’s words are too much, too condescending, and sweet and frustrating.

“I-Ihh- I’m go-ahah-gonna cut yo-oho-you’re fucking tongue ou-ouaha-out.” Zoro warns, deadly serious for once. His threat sounding ridiculous though as his voice cracks at the end, his laughter hitting a shriek as Sanji traces a spot just above his pant’s line.

Sanji hums, unimpressed. His hands disappear from Zoro’s stomach and for some reason that’s worse. Zoro’s gaze snaps from the door to the kitchen back to Sanji as he desperately tries to anticipate whatever the fuck the cook is going to do next.

He’s too slow though because he doesn’t feel the hands shoving under his exposed armpit’s until it’s too late. Not being able to drag his elbows into his sides is torture and his shrieking continues as his nerves tingle from his chest all the way to his fingertips.

“I don’t think the world’s greatest swordsman is the only title you’ll ever earn; clearly most ticklish swordsman is already yours.”

It’s the worst comment so far. Mainly because the cook has just fucking admitted he think’s Zoro can achieve his dream. The compliment is weird and warm enough to have butterflies fluttering in his gut while his lungs seize in his chest. His face is beetroot red at this point as Zoro starts to feel like he’ll never escape.

But just as he thinks this, Zoro registers his legs, which have been twisting and convulsing this whole time…Sanji is settled on his chest. Zoro’s legs are completely free. He mightn’t have trained his kicks like the cook, but he can still swing them as well as any other competent fighter.

As Sanji opens his mouth to tease him further, Zoro moves. He brings his knees up with as much force as he can in his position, and they hit Sanji square in his lower back. He knocks the cook forward just enough that one of his knee’s shifts from where they were pinching the nerve in Zoro’s arm and in a blink of an eye he goes from a laughing mess to grappling Sanji’s waist, rolling the pair over until Zoro finds himself nestled in between the blonde’s legs, his hips pining the other’s down.

Sanji is blinking owlishly up at the ceiling, disorientated, and confused at how he ended up in this position.

Zoro wastes no time in hopping up and falling back down on the other’s thighs, preventing any kicks or twists that might come his way. He gives Sanji a second, relishing in the horrified expression on his rivals faces before he digs both his large hands into every inch of skin he could on the blonde’s stomach and is rewarded by a loud wheeze followed by a stream of curses and laughter as Sanji loses it beneath him. His whole being wiggling and convulsing and suddenly Zoro doesn’t feel as embarrassed or weak.

He was going to kill the blonde, tickle him to an inch of his final breath and make him promise to never try this shit again, to beg and cry for Zoro to stop...

But the heated feeling dies in his mind as soon as he thinks it, because Sanji laughs like it means nothing. Like he doesn’t care that he’s being lit on fire by Zoro’s touch. He meets Zoro’s eye like they’re sharing a joke over a drink, like they’ve just surprised yet another unsuspecting crew, he looks at Zoro as if they’re friends…and it kills Zoro. Destroys him in a way he’s not expecting.

So, he stops, his fingers stilling when Sanji’s eyes gather tears and his face is as red as Zoro’s own.

He doesn’t tease him, doesn’t trust himself to say a single word when his mouth has dried, when it feels like cotton in sitting in the centre of his tongue.

“Tr-ucahaha-truce. Plea-ahah-se Marimo.”

Zoro stares at him until Sanji squirms uncomfortably at the silence. He watches the emotions swirling in Zoro’s eyes, his face it’s usual mask of secrecy. The idiot looks lost, like he’s stuck on something particularly complex.

Sanji hasn’t a clue what could be happening in the green idiot’s brain, so he doesn’t push him. Not when he’s still menacingly looming over him, ready to pounce.

Sanji handles him the way he always does when he needs Zoro to comply without needing him to actually agree with him.

“I’ll let you drink a bottle of the good booze if you let me up?”

Zoro grins then, the tension washing away as Sanji offer him something familiar, something safe.

He grunts as he stands, surprising them both when he offers Sanji a hand up.

He takes the hand, letting Zoro pull him to his feet, surprised when the other pulls him close, his breath tickling Sanji’s ear as he hisses “You tell anyone about this, and not even the world’s best sake will save you.”

Zoro pulls back then to glare as threateningly as he can at the cook. Sanji looks stricken, maybe a bit intimidated for a second before he bursts into laughter. Zoro pouts at the response, forgetting none of his intimating tricks work on the pervert.

Sanji gooses his side as he dances out of Zoro’s reach and towards the drinks stash, laughing as he replies over his shoulder.

“Next time I won’t forget to pin you properly, moss for brains.”

The threat sounds more like a promise, like Sanji is already planning his next attack. It makes Zoro uncomfortable, afraid, and slightly excited. The same mesh of emotions he always gets from fighting with Sanji.

Maybe, this would be another form of release for them. Another way to pass the time on the ship and let off some steam.

He tries not to dwell on the fact that a tickle fight was far less acceptable for a pair of terrifying warriors than genuine bruise inducing sparring.

Who could judge them out at sea? Who would learn of what they did on the grand line behind a closed kitchen door.

Zoro wanted to hear that laughter again, wanted to see that grin across the cook’s face…and maybe, he admits quietly in his brain as he takes the first gulp of his drink, he was looking forward to having the cook tease him like that again.

To beat him with a soft touch, rather than a short blunt one.

Zoro needed to drink the entire bottle placed in front of him before he lets his thoughts continue, before he reaches a conclusion, he’s been avoiding for months now.

He holds out his empty cup and receives a scoff in return as Sanji fills it again, the two of them clinking their next glasses together in a silent ‘cheers’.

They’ll figure it out, whatever this is.

They’re nakama after all.

309 notes · View notes

crimeronan · 16 days

Text

i know a bunch of people are looking for new hip-hop and rap artists to listen to -- can i please please please direct your attention to darrnell bradley. i found him through youtube recommendations about a week ago. he does character raps for anime & other fandoms n his lyrics are. So Fucking Good. his style is a blend of modern hip-hop and early-aughts alt emo bullshit & even though i don't share a lot of fandoms with him, i have loved Literally Every Song I've Heard Thus Far. including for fandoms i'm not in.

(the shigaraki song below gave one of my partners such powerful autisms that she Immediately had to show me his backstory episodes. i now know more about tomura shigaraki than i do about any of bnha's actual protagonists.)

here are some specific mood-based recs:

ruthlessness/righteous fury (miguel o'hara)

"wow it's fun being the most powerful person in a room" (gojo satoru)

I Am So Fucking Mad (jinx arcane)

well. that's gonna haunt me for a while (tomura shigaraki)

crazy girl fucks me to death asmr (general yandere. trust the process)

the guy has less than 8k youtube subscribers and less than 5k spotify listeners which is. crazy. check his stuff out it is. So Fucking Good.

#the yandere one is So Fucking Funny. SO MANY MURDER SEX PUNS...???#music #music rec #darrnell bradley #róisín seoighe's listenership more than doubled when i posted about her so. let's see if we can do anything for this guy fksjdj #jjk #bnha #arcane #across the spiderverse

54 notes · View notes

yandere-sins · 2 years

Text

Downfall

[My Commission Info] | [My Ao3] | [Ko-Fi]

a/n: I mean, I did kind of teaser this one, but I had it written and only now got to clean it up a bit. But yes, I just really want to be smooshed between yandere please, roughly and brutally okay thanks.

Fandom: Genshin Impact Pairings: Yandere!Alhaitham x GN!AFAB!Reader x Yandere!Kaveh Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Blowjob/Throatfuck, Creampie, Masturbation, Non-/Dub-Con, Lots of juices, Rough fucking, Degradation, Praise, DP mention), Violence (Manhandling, Biting), Jealousy, Possessiveness, Punishment mention, Forced Relationship, Forced Feelings

The long fingers raking through your hair didn't make the pain in your throat any more endurable.

His touch, as gentle and praising as it was, did nothing to stop your drool from overflowing. Nothing to make his cock less long and his hips less enthusiastic about burying every inch of it inside you. Your tongue was just a helplessly lolling muscle underneath Alhaitham's instructions, all while his other hand was busy working on the table above you.

He was angry. Not at you, per se. Yet, you hated how you were his outlet, regardless of which emotion that man felt. Or… didn't. He still used you when he wasn't particularly stirred, but that was another story entirely. Kaveh must have really ticked him off that morning, though, as Alhaitham had barged into his room, pulling you out of Kaveh's soft and plush sheets while you were still dozing, and taken you to the Akademiya with him before his roommate could even notice you were gone.

Only for you to go through the horror you had to face every day but in a much less comfortable space. Once again, you were the punished one in their argument.

Once again, you suffered the consequences.

No matter how much he appreciated you forcing yourself to wrap your lips around his cock, Alhaitham never cared to wipe away your tears. He never asked how you felt, squeezed under his table, sucking him off as if your life depended on it (a partially true sentiment, as the air was getting thin with the massive blockage of his cock). He never even so much but cared to put you into proper clothes rather than the skimpy nightgown Kaveh liked to dress you in when he was in the mood for admiring the sight of you.

You were cold, uncomfortable, scared, and felt like an object while in Alhaitham's care. Not a good look for a man who still declared that what he felt for you was love while he locked you up in his home, forced you to study his texts so he'd have someone to talk about them with, and then bent you over and fucked you roughly whenever he saw fit. Even worse than that, at times, Alhaitham, completely captivated by his books or missions, just gave you up to his roommate without a second thought, as if you were a pet in need of a carer. The two had created something akin to a schedule, who got you when, a truly disturbing concept considering you were all adults. However, you questioned their sanity every day. And Kaveh was… perhaps even worse than the roommate currently relishing at the feel of you choking on his cock.

"Alhaitham."

Kaveh's voice emerged pressed through his teeth, anger boiling under his tongue. You didn't need to see him to know fury replaced his pupils, his joints cracking under restraint. Alhaitham let out the hint of a sigh, noticeable by how his cock pulled out at the intake of air, only to fill your throat again as he breathed out, the gentle fingers from before now turning tense as they gabbed into your hair to shift responsibilities. Instead of fucking his hips into your face, he was now bopping your head up and down, pitiful gurgles leaving you as you stained his pants with your drool and tears, though he was relentless. The peaceful quiet was disturbed, so it was time to get it over with.

He wasn't too harsh with guiding your head, but he wasn't careful either. And while your wrists strained in the cuffs behind your back, you tried to elevate yourself to make it less painful to take him in deep, even beyond your capabilities. It would be over soon. Now that Kaveh had appeared, there was no doubt Alhaitham would finish up quickly to eliminate any nuisances like his desperate needs or Kaveh's nagging. Marking you with his cum, which would linger as a taste on your lips and a smear down your thighs, was an additional pleasure for him to piss off his roommate.

"Where are they?" Kaveh demanded to know, and Alhaitham let a shuddering breath, his demands of you becoming rougher as he neared his orgasm. "How dare you just take them out without telling me!"

"They're busy today. They have obligations other than to humor your sick fantasies, Kaveh."

"Sick fantasies–?!"

Interrupting Kaveh, Alhaitham suddenly rose from his chair, pulling you out from the legroom under his table. Your muffled complaints as he handled you undoubtedly pleasured him, vibrations quivering against his cock shoved deep inside you from above. Alhaitham pulled you taut against him, your lips kissing the fabric of his clothes, spluttering drool as you were cut off from a chance to breathe with your throat used to its best capabilities. Flailing in his grip, you were so helpless with your arms bound, having to rely on his strength to keep you upright. Alhaitham pressed you backwards, bracing himself with one arm against the table, hovering over you. His fingers clutching the edge were the only thing that kept your head from bumping into the wood with every push as he picked up the pace even faster.

Now in a less confined position, he pulled his hips from your face before plunging back down. Over and over, letting out moans and groans of pleasure, Alhaitham much more open and vocal while having sex than one might take him for. Kaveh let out a loud gasp at the sight of you being mishandled, but what could you do except endure being used and throat-fucked? Even if you had wanted to appease the other psycho in the room, there was no way you could have escaped.

Alhaitham's voice cut off suddenly, breathing ragged, and he stopped all the way down your throat, shuddering. Hot splurts of cum made you want to gag as they dripped into you, your only ability being to swallow it as it was given to you. Unable to catch a breath as he came, your body let out more tears while you felt appalled by his cum warming the inside of your throat, your insides burning as if they were on fire.

When he was finally done, Alhaitham slowly retreated, inch for inch, waiting for you to lick him clean before his tip finally popped out of you. Releasing you from his hold, you plummeted to the ground, coughing up spit and semen. You felt so pathetic and disgusting, but Kaveh was by your side in a matter of seconds, pushing Alhaitham away and wrapping you in his arms. Shivering and sobbing, he pressed your face into his shoulder and allowed you to cry. It was all you could do, even if you wanted to scream and howl, but you were too afraid of the repercussions of your actions to let go of your inner restraint.

Your life was so unfair, setting you up for failure no matter what you did. When Alhaitham approached you the first time, you thought he was taking pity on you. A handsome man showing interest in you never was a good sign. Turned out he had just been interested in you because of the information you had, useful for his mission. However, he never stopped visiting your place of work, and you two had developed a relationship—or so you thought. His interests seemed more peculiar than he'd ever let you know, and you never got around to understanding him, even after he took you to his home against your will.

"Why are you doing this to them?!" Kaveh hissed at him, clutching you to his chest. Once again, it was Alhaitham's roommate playing knight in shining armor, defending your virtue that he liked destroying at night. Not without his hands clutching you, of course, squeezing your body possessively, waiting for you to flinch, so he had more reason to go off on Alhaitham. "Do they mean nothing to you?! Don't you love them?!"

You couldn't see Alhaitham's reaction, but he didn't feel the need to respond verbally. You heard the slick sound of him cleaning off his cock of the excess fluids, jerking it a few more times to the sight of you before packing it away. Alhaitham's hand fell to the back of your head, his finger ruffling through your hair as if to say "well done". Kaveh cursed him under his breath, rubbing his hand reassuringly over your back. All of Kaveh's questions were just attempts to get under Alhaitham's skin, but his mind was resolute against almost anything Kaveh said. Would Alhaitham be stirred at the news of you getting away? He loved you, and he saved you from a miserable life; that's what he believed. Even though you suffered, Alhaitham had decided this was the life you should be living, by his side in revered admiration. So would he react at hearing something happened to you? Or would he be just as calm and composed as he was now? His attitude making Kaveh even angrier towards his roommate.

Producing a handkerchief from his pocket, Kaveh cleaned up the mess on your face. Even if the disgust didn't disappear with the wipe of the soft fabric, it helped to feel a little less dirty. A little less used and discarded. However, even without looking, you felt Alhaitham's eyes drill into your back, watching as Kaveh took care of you.

"You okay, Love?" Kaveh cooed, and you bit your lip, knowing it was better to lie than to further aggravate the two. Nodding, you lowered your gaze, not wanting Kaveh to read your eyes rather than trust your confirmation. "Everything's going to be okay. I'll take you away from this bastard soon. Don't cry, Love."

Sometimes it was easy to forget he was worse than even Alhaitham. Sometimes, with his warmth and care, the nicknames and sweet promises, Kaveh had you forgetting how cruel he could be. How his jealousy and competitive nature made him even needier and ruthless than the man who had carelessly throat-fucked you just to annoy Kaveh. It was hard to see how either of them could claim they loved you—love anyone, really—when you were more like a prize they were throwing back and forth, not caring about what you wanted or how hurt you got in the process.

Their egos were your downfall.

"Make sure you clean them up properly when you get home," Alhaitham muttered, and Kaveh's movements halted. You watched his chest puff with air, anger radiating from him as he returned, "Excuse me?"

"I said clean them up properly when you get–"

Even before the sentence was finished, Kaveh reached between your legs. Fingers digging into you without warning, you jolted, crying out pitifully before grinding your teeth, the tears returning. Kaveh pressed his pointer and middle finger inside you, thumb instinctively finding your little know at the front, causing a shock of electricity to jolt through you. You bit back a moan as he scissored his fingers, brushing against your wet and sensitive walls before pulling them out again to examine. Forth came two slick fingers coated in the leftovers of the creampie you received, and Kaveh's face turned from pale to a deep shade of red. He didn't need to be a scholar to know that wasn't his cum inside you from the night before. Not after he made sure to bathe you after his session yesterday.

"Leaving me the seconds to clean up, huh?" Kaveh mumbled eerily as he stared at the little strings of cum forming from his fingers, eyes darkening with terrifying anger as he knelt next to you, knowing you had been thoroughly used.

"Don't be so sensitive," Alhaitham sighed, the previously raging madness at what his roommate did to upset him that morning, lost in the thought of Kaveh being dramatic about the nice gift he gave you.

"Sensitive? Me? After you took my beloved darling out of my bed—kidnapped them even!—knowing fully well it's not your day! We have rules, Alhaitham. And now you are making your mess my responsibility?"

Letting out a surprised gasp, you were suddenly pulled to your feet. Digging his fingers under your ass, Kaveh demanded your cooperation and to wrap your legs around his hips. You didn't dare to disobey when his mood was fouler than both of their intentions towards you. Walking you around Alhaitham's table, for a moment, you were hoping he'd just let it be and take you home. Maybe vent his feelings to you while all he demanded from you was cuddles and to kiss him when he asked for it. Sadly, that was the only and best way to avoid his anger shifting onto you, no matter how appalled you were by his affection.

But it was wishful thinking anyway.

Instead of saving you from the horror that was Alhaitham's office and giving you the bath you desired desperately, Kaveh turned towards Alhaitham's desk, facing him. Before you knew it, your shoulders and back hit the table, your pulse racing as pain spread through your whole body. The hands shackled behind your back made this position beyond uncomfortable, and you cried out in distress as you were slammed on your limbs. Recovering from the shock, you took a deep breath, opening your eyes again, only to find yourself staring at Alhaitham's slightly disgruntled, slightly curious expression. At the same time, you felt Kaveh push your legs forward, the nightgown easily giving way and baring yourself fully to him.

"N-No! Please, no more!" you pleaded, forcing your chin to your collarbones to look at Kaveh. He only glared at you, his voice a frosty threat that you better not challenge him now too. It was as if he was blaming you for what happened, more tears springing into your eyes as you found no way to reason with him when his mind was deceived by things that didn't happen. You certainly didn't ask Alhaitham to steal you away and, even less, force himself on you. But in his jealousy, Kaveh wouldn't believe you even just a little bit.

"Shut. Up."

Immediately, you closed your mouth, letting your head fall back to give Alhaitham a pleading look for help instead. Even after such a long time, you still hoped that your eyes would one day let either of the two have pity on you. However, the latter had already leaned back in his chair, making no attempts to assist Kaveh or save you. His work was interrupted with you taking up most of the table, and his hand gripped into the fabric of his pants where his cock perked up, watching as you were spread out in front of him.

Horrified, you couldn't help but shiver at the sound of fabric between your legs. More tears streamed down your face. This time, you didn't hold back from sobbing out loud. If they didn't have the decency, why should you? So what if someone heard? If neither of them were to be reasoned with, maybe someone walking in and seeing you in distress would get them off you. Though it wouldn't keep you from the embarrassment of a stranger walking in on the three of you doing things that were definitely not permitted inside the Academiya.

Propping your legs over his right shoulder, Kaveh kissed your cold calves, taking a moment to really feel your soft skin against his lips and taste you on his tongue, a sight of worship for your body. Not like you could forget about his tip positioned to rub along your folds. Not even for a second. But as your thoughts drifted off to the danger waiting to pounce, Kaveh opened his mouth, perfect rows of teeth sinking into you the exact moment his hips snapped forward. Gasping, you stirred helplessly in your awkward position, the slickness of your cunt letting him slip in much too easily for your mental state. Yet, you moaned as he filled you, your walls recognizing his cock as if it belonged inside you. Though you wished you could have kept him outside by clenching down hard on his cock, instead, Kaveh let out a myriad of moans as he buried himself deep inside your warmth, thinking you were welcoming him.

Enjoying you, his personal toy, the anger he had felt after finding out what Alhaitham had done was only noticeable in the way his fingers dug into your skin as he turned you to your side, the wet noises growing louder as your thighs parted to give him access. No matter his feelings, now that he was fucking you, Kaveh couldn't resist being enamored, his hands unable to hold as much of you as his mind wanted. In his fantasies, it was you holding on to him, begging for and praising his cock, asking for more, and for him to make you his. Using you as he needed and wanted was just the build-up to make this fantasy into reality, he hoped. But it made him a little more attentive, even though that didn't mean any less rough and needy.

Though you tried to hide the moans slipping out between your sobs, you couldn't, the treatment of the two so cruel and yet leaving such a burning passion behind, crawling from your pussy up your stomach and to your brain with every thrust. You hated thinking your body had already adjusted and synched with them. Still, you knew that no matter who fucked you, you'd be betrayed by the joy of pleasure.

"So pretty," Alhaitham suddenly murmured above you, and you cracked open your eyes again to look at him. His eyes gleamed with mischievous affection, and he cupped your face from above, thumb wiping your cheeks in admiration. "Do you like it, Sweetheart? Does it feel good when he fucks you raw? Or do you prefer me?"

Kaveh let out a disgusted grunt at Alhaitham's suggestion as he pushed his hips forcefully into yours, lodging his cock so deep inside it made you squeak before you let out a hearty moan, surrendering to the fact you couldn't win no matter what you said. Weakly, you shook your head, barely noticeable as you focused on Kaveh's rhythm instead. He kept breaking it to punish you, doing a quick session of pounds before rolling his hips, creating delicious friction. Just as your limbs began to tense, he pulled out completely, leaving you whining without him inside you. With an especially rough push, your walls tingled with pleasure as he hit the sweetest of all spots with the slight curve in his cock. Angels singing and bells ringing in your head, you exhaled a shuddering breath.

"Don't lie," Kaveh grunted. "Tell that bastard how good you feel."

Nails digging into your calves, this wasn't a request but a demand. Everything in your body refused to say it, the signs so clear the two should have known that you were very close to cumming if Kaveh managed to caress that sensitive spot inside you again. You bit your lip, sniffling before letting your head hang, complying pitifully.

"... good," you mumbled, even though it was hard to temper your voice when you were so out of breath. You were constantly on the verge of tipping over into the abyss, your mind going down the gutter as Kaveh kept prodding against your sweet spot. It was a fight you couldn't win, no matter how hard you tried to keep any sound from leaving you.

"Louder!" Kaveh demanded, pushing forward and right into the place that made you tremble.

"IT'S GOOD!" you finally screamed, releasing all the pent-up tension. Your whole body was captured by violent shakes, muscles tensing up to your toes as you were pushed over your limits. It was pure mercy that Kaveh eased you after the orgasm, undoubtedly having a smug grin on his face.

"That's how you do it," he bragged proudly to Alhaitham, their tense eye contact lost on you and your muddled mind. Kaveh knew you, inside and out. He knew what felt good and what really hurt you. While for Alhaitham, you were an object to possess, perhaps even a golden bird that he put into a cage, Kaveh was out for your blood. He was the one forcing you to sing, or he'd tear out your feathers and strangle you. He knew the words to say to make you weep and those to comfort the wounds he inflicted on you. It was no wonder—especially not after being forced to experience pleasure by Alhaitham before him—that you were no match for Kaveh's expertise.

Releasing your legs, he turned you onto your stomach before slipping back inside. Looking ahead tiredly, you came face to face with a very eager, pulsating cock that you knew all too well from it being shoved down your throat minutes prior. But now, Alhaitham was all too happy handling himself while Kaveh finished his business inside you. This had never happened before. They had never shared you willingly. But things were changing.

You weren't sure if you liked that.

"That's it, babe," Kaveh groaned behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and sinking his face into your shoulder as he picked up a stimulating pace for himself, hammering his cock inside you as if his life depended on it. Desperate, thrilled, completely enraptured. He came in floods of his own cum, straining himself as he tried to press as far as possible into you, spread his jizz so far it would cover up his rivals'.

"You're doing so good, [Name]," Alhaitham cooed at you, placing his fingers around your chin and squeezing your mouth open to receive his tip, forcing you to play with it and lick off the excessive precum with your tongue. The taste tingled your memories, your throat clogging up as it anticipated being penetrated again, but even though your eyes opened wide and you tried to jerk away, there was no escape.

"Open up, Angel," Kaveh sighed blissfully, urging you on behalf of his rival. Alhaitham didn't wait for you to welcome him before making himself at home inside you again, his pulsing member only needing the nudge of your tongue and tight constriction of your throat to cum for a third time that day. Infatuated as he was, having watched you get fucked silly, Alhaitham was already so sensible after working your sore body over his length twice before.

"You're so hot," Kaveh mumbled, his hands massaging your ass. Their touch left nothing but hotness behind, your pussy clenching every time Kaveh squeezed you. And every time, he muffled his groans in your shoulder, unwilling to separate from you yet, kissing up and down your shoulder while clogging your pussy with his cock, making sure his cum would stay inside you. Making the sloppy seconds especially sloppy.

"I wonder if they could take us both," Alhaitham pondered, and your eyes snapped upwards, catching the hint of a grin on his face. A truly rare but even more so, frightening look. When it came to researching, one could always count on Alhaitham to have his curiosity picked. Especially when it involved you.

"No… No more…" you coughed as he finally pulled his cock out of your mouth. Your jaw felt like it was going to be permanently fractured, and your throat was sore and burning. And yet, your pussy still quivered around Kaveh, a smirk settling on his lips as well, suddenly having a change in opinion about his roommate.

"I think they'd really like that! Judging by how eager their pussy is."

You always thought Alhaitham was bad and Kaveh was worse. But them working together? It was your damn ruin even though you had to admit... Their cocks felt so damn good as they fucked out the last of your sanity.

Turning you into their pretty, perfect, darling slut.

763 notes · View notes

consistentsquash · 1 year

Note

What are your top 10 snarry favorite fics?

Hiya! I feel like my top 10 changes depending on my mood. Snarry fandom has a lot of great fics. Sorry for slowness but life was kind of crazy.

I like fics with a lot of magic/whimsy/darker vibes. A big fan of canon divergence because Snape needs to live! Dubcon with bittersweet ending but also they need to be in love.

My super subjective top 12 which is going to change in like 5 minutes because I am a flake. It's going to be in two parts for reasons... also chronological because why not!

first part

A Bittersweet Potion by alchemia and bugland. This is like the only oldschool Snarry that works for me now because my reading tastes changed a lot. I got lots of bookmarked chapters I reread. Just love the fic. So crazy creative. Also crazy. This started in 2002 iirc.. So really, really old. WIP!

In Between Days by atrata. I really like this. A lot of things won't work for new readers because it was written before the books finished. But it's peak Snape before the big canon reveals and has a lot of ambiguity in his characterization. This is 2005 so you can kind of see their dynamic developing like the middle books.

Morior Animus by Vain. OMG. I read MCD but I don't normally reread it a lot. This fic though. It's got MCD but it's super beautiful and the premise of the fic is just incredible. snarry games fic. A lot of my favs are from that collection. A lot of fics in that time get super creative because the books were still going on. 2006 before DH iirc.

This Boy's Life by pir8fancier. This is my fav fic from the author. The fic is just ultra intense. So we get to see the whole Lily situation. I reread this one a lot. 2007.

When the Rose and the Fire Are One by @perverse-idyll. So this fic burned me out on Snarry. Especially on Snape characterization. Sometimes you just read a fic which says literally everything you wanted about the characters and you don't feel like reading that pairing again? So that was me with this fic. I just didn't read a lot of Snarry after this. also Snarry games. 2008

second part

part two of my favs are from more recent years after I got over that fic…

6. a certain optimism by @hippocrates460. The fic which got me back into Snarry bigtime! Love the Snape POV so much! It's kind of not that common in Snarry fics to get Snape POV. This one is brilliant. It feels like something from a different life, more now than when it had been decades since he’d last heard it. 2019

7. The Measure of A Man by @ac1d6urn. Gosh the intensity. I just. But also really healing and love the feels. Super cathartic vibes. I reread this fic a lot. It's got a great Harry characterization. One of the best honestly. A lot of Snarry fics don't really go into Harry. This fic is Harry's fic! <;3 2019

8. Close Encounters by @likelightinglass and bleedcolor - I am a big sucker for mysterious identity slow build and this is 100% that fic. Lots of classic tropes with ultra perfect execution! Kind of a comfort read for me honestly. 2019

9. Green Grow the Rushes, O by eldritcher - I am a big fan of magical worlds and imagery. Omg this fic! It's like a fever dream. Really lucid, really intense but also like a Van Gogh painting. Somehow plays it straight and also gets mythological at the same time. The fic that made me fall in love with reading aloud. Musical like whoa. There is only the moon and bright Venus to greet them. Severus heals Harry with song and spell. He fucks Harry until he is drained of fear and fury. 2021

10. Suspiria by @ripeteeth - A big fan of the 2nd person POV! Also unicorn rare. But omg I love it in this fic. It adds insane levels of intense for a pretty intense premise. You can really feel the mental spirals. Snape POV! Super ambitious and really, really delivers on that. Why does he look at you? Perhaps it’s in penance. 2021

11. Realisations by @titconao3 - A big fan of 1st person POV but it's like unicorn level rare now. This fic rocks the 1st person POV. Also Harry POV. I mean that's like 2x levels of ambitious :D But it works great. I really love this postwar setting and the pacing. Feels really organic. Oh, since then, I’ve had the biggest, most doomed crush on the most unlikely, the most unreachable man. 2022

12. Contempt by @danpuff-ao3 - Gosh. This is like Old school Snarry but like with really tight pacing. It sucks you in and you just have to go with it. It goes to some crazy places. Which is what I want from Snarry! They need to be crazy :D. Also the summary is literally Snarry ship manifesto Harry hates Snape, and he always will. (He will, won’t he?) 2022

#snarry #top tens #i am a flake so this is going to change #in five min #but love these fics #snarry fic recs #hp #asks #fic recs

175 notes · View notes

duchessdepolignaca03 · 3 months

Text

WIP Wednesday - A Most Self-Indulgent WIP

Getting an early jump on WIP Wednesday (GASP). I think I am coming to terms with the fact that I have a very specific wheelhouse that I like to play in. And it's not going to be something that 99.9% of the fandom will care for, but my God am I going to write my self-indulgent bullshit. But still, I'd be interested to know if there's any interest at all in this BS :D

So I bring my latest WIP, currently titled: Horny Trophy Wife!Henry Committing Adultery with Alex in a Vaguely Historical European Setting, feat. not-Baron Zemo.

Warnings: Mpreg of the hand wavy variety, Forced Marriage, Infidelity/Adultery.

Read under the cut. Tags also under the cut!

Henry looks over at his husband across the table, and barely conceals the grimace that wishes to peek through his wide, placating smile. Five years of his life he has given this man, five years of wearing the mask of a happy, content spouse. It’s true that the Baron is handsome in his own right, unimaginably wealthy and educated and refined despite his humble origin, and on paper ought to be an ideal husband. But the Baron’s stubborn nature and Henry’s tempestuous fury make for a sorry, wretched match.

Yet Henry cannot say their marriage has been unproductive. Four little angels he has given the Baron, all four with strawberry-hued yellow hair and eyes as blue and fearsome as his own. They are Henry’s creatures, clinging to him like barnacles even as they grew out of infancy. His little angels serve as balms to his unrelenting loneliness, the ache of foreignness and not-belonging that will never dissipate from where it has settled down into his bones like the bitter cold air of this unforgiving land.

Henry craves the excitement he has been denied his whole life. First, because he was a threat to his older brother, who was pale and sickly yet ambitious, a stark contrast to Henry’s vigour, fertility and frivolity. Henry’s circumscribed upbringing was intended to diminish him in the eyes of the world, lest the unparalleled beauty and grace of the spare cause him to rise above the anointed heir. The match with the Baron was therefore ideal: the marriage brought England wealth and a mighty ally, and Henry would vanish out of sight and out of mind.

Then, because he was dutiful and sweet, he was with child within weeks of his wedding night. His fertile belly had scarcely been empty since, a consequence of his temper flaring up at his husband, making them both concupiscent despite the lack of affection for one another in their hearts. As each one came into the world, the Baron jested that Henry was birthing his own army to rival the Baron’s own. Henry demurely denied his allegations, instead dreaming of more illustrious futures for his babes than to become lords and ladies of desolate lands rich only in the treasures that could be hewn from the rocks.

But there is little promise of excitement in his life, besides the happiness the children bring. Occasionally, his heart will race – like when there is little news days after the end of one of the Baron’s military campaigns, and he can briefly fantasize about a merry widowhood. Then news arrives and his hopes are dashed and his husband returns and he finds himself once again with child even though the last one is barely out of swaddling clothes.

A visit by emissaries of a young nation sets the court abuzz. The new nation had been born out of the ashes of a rival empire the Baron had helped set aflame, and so the visitors were to be honoured with days of dazzling amusement. But Henry is in a melancholy mood, and cannot bring himself to pretend to look forward to the long, agonising hours of politicking he will have to attend at his husband’s side.

There is a silver lining, however. A quite literal one. The Baron, in all of his wisdom and quest to show off his dearest prize, had commissioned an elegant gown for Henry to wear to the ball celebrating the emissaries’ arrival, inspired by the suits of armour from the ancient days of chivalry. And bashful as he might play, Henry is a creature of vanity, excited by the notion of being observed and desired as an ethereal, untouchable beauty: the Baron’s angel of war and mother to his nation.

Tagging: @sparklepocalypse @orchidscript @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @priincebutt, @piratefalls, @onthewaytosomewhere @nocoastposts, @magicandarchery,, @zwiazdziarka, @taste-thewaste and ANYONE because I need more friends.

#my wips #rwrb wips #wip wednesday #henry and alex #firstprince au #my most self indulgent wip yet #seriously who would want this #mpreg fic #rwrb au #red white and royal blue #rwrb fanfic #firstprince #my fic

20 notes · View notes

howtodrawyourdragon · 6 months

Text

Forbidden Feelings

Summary: While stuck in a blizzard with Toothless, Hiccup wonders what's wrong with him.

Warning: /

General: General

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless

Pairing: Toothcup

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Author's Notes: I've been in a real Toothcup mood as of late. So have this one!

Enjoy!

XOXOX

Hiccup knows there’s something incredibly wrong with him. Because when the other Dragon Riders are with their dragons, he’s certain that they don’t feel the same way he does when he’s with Toothless.

When they’re apart, he’s certain that they don’t feel the indescribable loneliness that he does. When it’s just them and their human friends, he’s certain that they don’t feel the odd one out and like he still doesn’t belong even after everything. When they’re flying together, there’s that exhilaration for sure, but Hiccup still wonders if they feel as utterly complete and whole as he does.

He doesn’t feel like he belongs unless he’s with other dragons. He doesn’t feel as understood or understands as much as he does when he’s with other dragons. He can’t truly be himself around human beings like he can be around dragons.

And then, there’s Toothless. Who he can’t be around without his heart racing. It’s beating so hard it’s like it wants to escape his ribcage to be with his.

At night he lies awake thinking about him. During the day, he wants to spend every minute with him. He’s never felt anything like this for anyone before. What he thought was a crush on Astrid, was simply a deep need for friendship, it’s not at all what he feels for his Night Fury. Not even in the beginning of their friendship did these same sensations overwhelm him as they do now, months after the Red Death.

Huddled together in a tiny alcove in a short cliff side to hide away from the cold of another blizzard of devastating winter, Hiccup’s thoughts and emotions run rampant. Dressed in a thick winter coat with a scarf, gloves, a hat, his Night Fury is still curled up around him, determined to be the one to keep him warm.

They were meant to go home long before the blizzard started, but they took their time with their flight and now it’s too late to return to the village. Too late to avoid this unexpected moment of quiet, this opportunity to contemplate.

It’s entirely their fault. Everyone knew the blizzard was coming, but they still chose to tempt fate and got grounded in the process. They’re far away from everyone else, it’s just the two of them.

From the corners of his eyes, Hiccup finds himself gazing at Toothless. Such a large and powerful creature. He could snap him like a twig, bite him in half, blast him to pieces. Yet he’s always so careful with him, always looking out for him. Even when Hiccup insists on playing rough, Toothless’ number one priority is his well-being.

The way this fact makes him feel is something he thinks he can never describe and never repay.

Toothless opens his eyes to look back at him, it’s as though he could sense his human’s eyes on him. Bothered by the cold, yet more concerned with him, he pulls him even closer with a clawed paw. Hiccup doesn’t fight him as Toothless all but pulls him underneath him, like someone would pull a much beloved stuffed bear closer to them. The cold weather can bother Toothless as much as it wants, Hiccup won’t be suffering the same fate when he’s around.

And with him nestled satisfyingly close, Toothless purrs happily and closes his eyes again.

Beyond frequent moments of embarrassment, Hiccup doesn’t usually blush, but he does when held so protectively by his dragon. There his heart goes again, trying to beat outside of his chest. He’s warm all over and it’s not just because of body heat. He can only snuggle closer.

But then there’s that pit of guilt and uncertainty. Because surely, there must be something terribly wrong with him if he’s fallen in love with a dragon.

#httyd fics #httyd movies #httyd #how to train your dragon #rob #riders of berk #dob #defenders of berk #hiccup haddock #toothless #toothcup #angst #fluff #my fanfics #forbidden #forbidden feelings

39 notes · View notes

i-might-write · 2 years

Text

Hirako Shinji: jealousy

Fandom: Bleach

Request: Heya!!! Noticed the requests were open so i thought i would plop one in. Could i pretty pretty please have some headcannons or a short lil fic for a jealous shinji hirako, maybe inclufing both before and currently dating S/O?

Before dating:

Shinji never gets jealous. Ever.

He'd rather voluntarily shave his head completely than ever admit to spying on whoever decided to become a part of your life.

He wouldn't stoop so low as to beat them up in a dark, secluded alley, but that thought would definitely get more tempting the more he saw you laugh in their presence or have a conversation that never seemed to end.

Shinji would be everywhere. He'd learn your daily routine, your favourite coffee shop, the route you took while on a walk and the kind of food you usually ordered. Shinji prides himself to be a laid back, chill person, but all of that pretense would get thrown out of the window the moment he felt like he might lose you.

Not in the literal sense - only in the one where his heart-wrenching crush on you stayed unadmitted, and all of his feelings would burn him down from the inside out as he watched you live your life with someone else.

Shinji would convince himself that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if the object of his jealousy didn't mean you any harm and would quickly get out of your life. But in order to make sure about that, Shinji would have to play a detective.

According to Hiyori, stalking was a better description of the never-ending, panic driven spying sessions. She was glad to accompany him, though. Especially when Shinji finally decided to go all out and make sure to separate you from whoever tried to take Shinji's rightful place at your side.

The amount of times he was 'accidentally' just walking by in your neighborhood and met you was almost as high as the number of times he paid Hiyori to scare the other dude off.

Dating:

Shinji was immensely proud of himself when he finally admitted his feelings to you and was accepted. He felt on top of the world every time the two of you showed anywhere together.

And every time he noticed someone's eyes staying on you for too long, Shinji wouldn't be able to hold the urge to wrap his arm around your shoulders or ostentatiously tuck you into his side. There's a strict limit to his patience, even if he tries to stay on his best behavior.

Jealous Shinji would get more quiet than usual, which is a very telling sign since his mouth hardly ever shuts up on a good day.

He'd be more withdrawn and observant, sometimes lost in his thoughts for a little too long. It'd take a few moments and a conversation in a private, secluded space to make him admit the reason for his poor mood, but eventually Shinji would open up. Sure, it'd be in his usual, half-joking manner, but through the tone of voice and the way he'd avoid eye contact you could see that he was bothered by the situation.

He wouldn't blame it on you in any way. If he decided to be in a relationship with you, he had utmost trust in you. There was no point in blaming his own feelings on someone else.

Shinji still appreciated you taking his jealousy seriously and acknowledging it. You'd have to be very clear that there was absolutely no need for it, and that you'd choose him every time, regardless of what happens or who else you meet.

That's what happens when Shinji gets jealous with a tint of sadness. If his jealousy takes a different route, his behavior changes too.

Shinji has no problem being the center of attention or trying out new stuff, even when he makes a fool of himself in the process. That makes him reckless, but also fierce enough to be better than whoever made him jealous in the first place. He's going to practice, be flashier, funnier and have a bigger range, and all in an effort to make them look inferior once again.

To say Shinji is 'just' competitive is not only an understatement, but a very shallow understanding of his character. The fury-driven need to compete, to be proven better, faster, funnier and the opportunity to crush his opponents is very deeply ingrained in Shinji's soul.

He still jokes about it, but it doesn't make it any less true.

#shinji hirako #hirako shinji x you #hirako shinji x reader #hirako shinji #bleach shinji hirako #Bleach #bleach shinji #shinji #hirako shinji imagine #bleach #Bleach imagine #bleach headcanons #shinji x reader #shinji x you #hirako x reader #hirako x you

399 notes · View notes

egsreactions · 1 year

Text

#El Goonish Shive #Reaction Image #Grace #Grace Sciuridae #Mood: RAGE #Mood: Fandom Fury #Mood: You gonna die now

17 notes · View notes

shearlin · 3 months

Text

Word count: 2678

Chapter 7: Time

First || << Previous || Next >>

Happy International Women's Day that was yesterday! As a gift, have a cameo!

Fun fact! I noticed that on average I'm adding 1k words to my "final" drafts when I search for typos and errors before posting. Good thing I put an uploading schedule for myself in place or I would ended up in the editing limbo.

(I also discovered I cannot write accents for the life of me. There was an attempt, but I had to scrap it because I just couldn't do it justice. The accents live in my head and in my heart.)

Enjoy! :D

Another day, another fight, another close call. This time it was… well, Time.

They were on their way to Lon Lon Ranch, landing in old man’s Hyrule only a day's walk away from it. Their spirits were high, the sunbeams bright and the monsters stupid enough to think they didn’t notice them hiding in sparse shrubbery on the side of the road.

The fight didn’t look like anything special. They were so used to working together by that point, it felt more like a choreographed dance routine than a real battle. Legend twirled the ice rod in his hand, wielding his sword in the other, freezing and shattering any monster coming too close, while being covered by Sky with the Master Sword and a whip. Hyrule was dancing around the Darknut with ease giving Wind and Four an easy shot at his back, the two of them making quick work of its armour. Wild was giving them all multiple heart attacks by letting a giant moblin stab the air inches from his face, only to kill it in a rapid fire of blows in a blink of an eye. He would later claim he was ‘training his magic abilities’ and acting all innocent, the madman. Twilight was going after archers, covering the distance between him and them in a blink of an eye as a wolf, coming out of the shift with his sword already swinging. Warriors was taking care of the supposed leader of the pack, separating it from the rest and not letting it bark out any orders or call retreat.

And Time was dealing with a pair of black lizalfos from Sky’s era.

Legend didn’t see how it happened, not that it mattered, only heard the old man coming down with a yell of pain as the spiked metal ball connected with his left knee and rendering him vulnerable and unable to fight.

Twilight and Wars were to his side in an instant, covering him while Time tried to do his best to not move so as to not upset the crushed joint any further. Sky went absolutely ballistic on the monsters he and Legend were dealing with, allowing the veteran to provide additional aid to the old man's defence with his ice rod, allowing Wars to start on the first aid.

They might have been overeager in making sure Time was okay, but to be fair, they were just a few hours away from Malon. They were not going to bring to her doorstep her husband all broken and beaten up.

They defeated the monsters quickly after that, powered by their righteous fury. A fairy that was travelling with them for the past few hours, straight up phased through the glass of her bottle as soon as the last monster fell, so she could heal his leg, despite old man's insistence he would be fine with a red potion, since they were going to the ranch to rest anyway. She had none of that, healing him in a tirade of bells and chimes and then zipped ahead to have her fill of sugar water as a reward.

Legend might not be able to speak with the pink fairies, but by the way Time chuckled as she offered her farewells, he was convinced that that particular one had enough excitement for her life .

Once the injury was mended and Time led them back on the road, the good mood from earlier returned to their group and they started joking around again. Just their local old man being too slow with his reflexes and not being able to keep up with them younglings.

But Legend couldn’t help but feel the uneasiness prickle under his skin once more, as he fell to the back of the group, brushing off Sky’s questioning look and Hyrule’s attempts at conversation. They got the hint easily enough and he was left alone with his thoughts.

The ‘old man’ jokes were all in good fun. The old man himself was often pointing out with humour, how he can’t possibly rival their vigour during training sessions or with the long days of trekking across the lands of Hyrule, no matter his ability to move with deceptive ease and speed when he really wanted to.

And it wasn’t like those jokes were unfounded. He was the oldest. If anyone, Legend would know how years of heroing can weigh on one’s body. Time might have only two (three?) official quests under his belt, but he did spend his teenage and young adult years hunting monsters, clearing and cleansing dangerous cursed places and doing all sorts of work for the crown as the Hero of Time. He might have found peace and tranquillity in the life on the ranch with Malon once he officially “retired” that title, but it didn’t erase years of injuries, scarred tissues or impaired-or-possibly-lack-of vision in his right eye. The entire chain could attest that it would be weird if that life didn’t leave any strain on his body.

Occasional injuries caused by slower reflexes or lingering stiffness was to be expected.

Logically, Legend knew that. But it was happening too often.

Well, not really, it was happening too often for his taste.

Read the rest on Ao3!

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu fanfiction #linked universe fanfic #linked universe legend #lu legend #linked universe time #lu time #my writing #a piece of heart

11 notes · View notes