#either way the found family is STRONG in this one
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COWBOYS ARE NOTHING BUT TROUBLE.
(arthur morgan x pianist at a saloon!male reader)
a/n; sorry for not posting for so long!! gwen stacy x black cat reader will return but rn i’ve had this worm stuck in my head for a min so hold on on that. STAY with me now, this one is good i swearr
You’ve never found it especially appealing, the way cowboys hold themselves and yip and yell about. The way they loiter and accidentally make themselves family men. It’s always been quite annoying though you imagine it is what you would’ve been had your parents been present. Nonetheless, it is not envy you hold toward them but.. annoyance. Yes, that red warmth in your stomach and heat on your face is pure annoyance. And nothing more. Of course.
Your town is small, of no concern. It would never even be dotted out on a map, it is so unimportant. You’ve always imagined what it would be like to leave but have never had the strength. Your place is here at town saloon, fingers dancing around the keyboard. The man who’d taken you had been saloon owner Pete Carter who’d taken your street urchin mind and managed to shift it into something greater, or well, something that makes money. Perhaps, this is why your faith is so strong.
The heat of the day beamed even on your face and flooded the floorboards of the saloon. You sigh. Still, the saloon will open and still will you play away. An Irish woman came in for she was new to town, new to America in a way so obvious. Not much people were here, only the town drunk and a few of the working girls. You sat down with her as she weeped softly, her curly brown tresses falling into her eyes. Her face was bent and curved to her age. She was a mother, you knew and had seen her son and daughter around town often. Trailing upon her like ducks to a mom. Her son was sweet and her daughter, proper. Both young, you didn’t believe either were a day over 6.
“Sir,” she cried, accent thick in her mouth. You rubbed her back before taking her hands. “Yes?” you replied. The mother sighed as she stopped her tears. “I need to write a letter home, but I’ve made no sense of the alphabet. Please do help me, sir,” she said and prayed, “Please know to write.” She looked as desperate as she sounded. She continued, “My Mam has passed, and I don’t know— I need to send my Da a letter. Oh, please, sir!” You shushed her and went to find a piece of paper. That afternoon you’d spent helping her craft a letter home.
As you sent her off, the saloon wasn’t quite full but neither was it empty. A few sat in drunkenness, others sat in a buzz. Some old, some young. It was a comforting feeling, a saloon not so full but neither so empty. You adjusted yourself when you heard it. The sounds of immature folk coming into town. The hooves of horses didn’t stumble as the clambered onto the dirt road. You could feel your stomach tighten with annoyance. Cowboys. Or rather, outlaws. Nonetheless, both were strangely irritating to you. The leather, the boots and all the self-confidence. Can anyone really blame you for holding such disdain? You roll your eyes and sit on the piano bench, beginning to play a tune.
Eventually, the attendance of the church extends and the more proper day drinkers leave. The last to leave is Old Charles McDonald, the union soldier with a limp and a missing tooth. He’s especially fond of his granddaughter who helps him around. He said, some days, he feels crazy. You remember nearly everyone who comes into the saloon, everyone who shares their tale with you. Why would anyone want to forget such history? You begin to help clean up before the sound of jangling spurs throw you off. You froze, completely froze. You turned around;
And there, your worst annoyances stood, an outlaw with two others trailing just before him.
You hid the grimace and continued to wipe down the windows. He wouldn’t be the last cowboy to come out tonight. You just knew the cowboy was walking with some sense of self-importance. You’d only gotten a glimpse but found yourself reflecting on the man’s looks, body. His sandy blond hair and nice tanned skin. Those shining eyes that you were almost certain were a shade of blue or green. You swallowed. He must be popular with the ladies, you came to the conclusion. He’s attractive, alright? Even you can admit that. You pushed a piece of hair behind your ear, suddenly feeling.. insecure of your appearance. But insecure isn’t the right word, maybe just.. very oddly aware.
“Play a good one,” the man shouted out, his more pale friend snorted while the tanner one huffed. You scowled. You’ll play what you want, not what some insolent outlaw wants to hear. Your fingers find the keys and continue the same tune you’ve been playing. The outlaw can deal with it. Faintly, you hear the drunken footsteps coming closer. The saloon is bustling with business now, outlaws and working girls all circulating about.
“Hey there,” he greeted, his voice was faintly reminiscent of a southern accent. He was pretty, his eyes at least. All green and.. nice. You shook the thought away and returned in a hardened voice, “Hi yourself.” The man looked a little embarrassed if not.. nervous. He looked down, his hat shielding his face. “You, uh, you play real nice,” he complimented and a fill of warm crowded inside your stomach. You returned, “Thanks.” You continued playing as he spoke, “I hope.. Uh, we ain’t causing too much trouble for ya.”
You wanted to say something mean, or snarky. Usually, you would. But staring at this.. outlaw— he’s an outlaw, remember— you couldn’t help but fumbling out, “Oh, don’t worry about it. Y’all ain’t no more trouble than a few drunkards.” He smiled nicely. Really, it was a nice smile if you ignore how beat up his teeth seem to be. “Alright,” he drawled, “good.” The sound of the piano and chattering of the saloon kept the scene from being awkward. “I’m Arthur,” he added like it was an afterthought. You told him your name. “That’s a nice one,” he said and looked as if he was about to say something else before one of his friends called him back over.
“It’s alright,” you said, “go.” Arthur smiled a little brighter and touched your shoulder. “This ain’t the last you’ve seen of me,” he said lightheartedly before stepping back and returning to the bar. You could feel your face all warm, you inhaled. What was that feeling? Hate, maybe. But hate doesn’t make you all flustered like that. He didn’t even do nothing! You grimaced.
It was gonna be a long night.
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Shehdri Junia Djedan Ziani | Human | Draconic Bloodline Sorceress | She/Her/Hers | 28
What is your Tav’s…
favorite weapon: Markoheshkir
most prized possession: her jeweled headdress, it was a gift from her late great-great grandmother, the previous matriarch of her family
deepest desire: to unravel as many arcane secrets that she can get her hands on
guilty pleasure: curling up with her favorite series of raunchy stories with a plate of decadent treats by her side
best-kept secret: nearly ruined a marriage due to a friendship
greatest strength: her intellect
fatal flaw: the arrogance that sometimes comes from having intellect as a strength
favorite smell: lavender and jasmine
favorite spell or cantrip: spell - Circle of Death cantrip - Bone Chill
pet peeve: assumption of her time; wasting it, refusing to respect it, assuming she has any to give without being asked first
bad habit: getting lost in her research for days on end
hidden talent: knows swordplay but specific to an ability to perform a type of dance that is familiar to her mother's people
leisure activity: prior to the rise of the Cult of the Absolute, she spent a lot of time traveling from one magical hub to another, conducting research and procuring rare magical artifacts to either keep for her personal collection or to sell through her mother's shop; she's is fascinated by museums and can be found bouncing from opera house to opera house to watch an exciting new play
favorite drink: Starburst Shandy
comfort food: Sun-Dappled Seafood Paella
favorite person(s): her parents, her eldest sister Horatia, Wyll, Karlach, Jaheira, Minsc
favored display of affection (platonic and/or romantic): both - she's someone who stands strongly in her loyalties to others and regardless of what type of relationship she has with you, will be the first to show if ever you need her aid, her reputation matters a great deal and she is not a fan of her support being taken lightly; purely platonic - she's prone to grand gifts, things you'd never think to want but she has them waiting for you to receive; purely romantic - she tends to be coquettish and a little harder to please but in a playful way, she likes the pursuit and wants to be wooed
fondest childhood memory: when she was preparing to make her case before the Arc of Zefrir, the highest collective of elite mages that comprise of the Ziani clan-- any who seek higher tutelage of the ancient magic that course through their family must first plead their case before the Arc and they must do so successfully; they are cutting and highly critical through the process, seeking not only to weed out the weaker mages from the strong but also those that are worthy of holding the family lineage to their names and casting with the blessing of their ancestors; Shehdri was twelve when she went before them and graciously presented her case for why she should be allowed to be further taught by the more powerful mages of her clan; going home with her mother that day after succeeding filled her with a high she still cannot describe to this day
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When I did the WIP game last month, I had three WIPs I was working on in any serious capacity: a glimpse of friendship, of monsters and men, and from there to here. I added the touch telepathy AU on a whim thinking no one would ask about it, and then @sylvies-chen did actually that haha. Thanks to her asking me for more details, I’ve now got a solid five chapters written with no end in sight..
At what point do I post Ch.1?
#tony stark#is it going to be frostiron? winteriron? stony? gen and team-fic centered on tony learning to trust the avengers and tell them his secret?#your guess is as good as mine#i could take it any way at this point#either way the found family is STRONG in this one#maybe…i write an ending for each relationship and post them separately#who knows#certainly not i 😂
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A Week (He Will Take You)
~
Danny moved to Gotham for school, while there he noticed that Gotham's ambient ecto was really murky for lack of a better word.
This didn't really affect him too much besides a mild headache every once in a while but that also just might be stress from all his school work so maybe not.
Anyway
This murky ecto seemed to effect the people who lived there or more importantly the ghosts,
They were visible to the human eye like most ghosts back in Amity but instead of looking very much like a ghost they still looked like humans if a bit off putting.
They all seemed to be continuing their normal lives as if still fully alive, with the people around them none the wiser.
Danny noticed this and began approaching them to figure out what was going on.
Apparently the murky ecto in the city had made it so that they were strong enough to still continue a somewhat normal life but not be able to cross over to the GZ.
In other words they were stuck in Gotham
Danny was the Ghost King so he could easily fix this problem, all he needed to do was give them a bit of pure ecto for around a week to fully stabilize them them then he would just open a portal into the GZ and they could cross over with all their things also transferring into the GZ for their new haunt.
Unfortunately this looked rather worrying to an outsider,
Imagine you're used to your neighbor being very outgoing so you and others see them a lot suddenly this man seems to appear in their life out of nowhere an at exactly one week, your neighbor and all their belongings in their home disappear no trace to be found.
You tell people and they begin saying the same story they knew someone and them a man with black hair and blue eyes appeared in their life, then they and all their things disappear in exactly one week.
Of course the police in Gotham do the bare minimum so they're no help.
But it starts to begin a trend, especially online.
"Oh careful or the blue eyed man will make you disappear in a week"
This of course after time catches the bats attention, Gordon had already given them all the information he had.
"Young adult early twenties, dark hair, blue eyes"
That was it.
The bats look into it and from their point of view Danny is a serial killer.
But they can't find the connection between all of his victims, they range from young children and the elderly from different backgrounds absolutely no connection,
Worrying enough he doesn't just make one person disappear he has taken entire families up to over a dozen, without anyone figuring out how he's doing it or why at all.
The disturbing thing also being that he seems to take everything in their home, leaving it like it has always been empty
Like no one had been living in it.
People have tried to take photos of Danny get some kind of evidence of his existence, but when they try to do it, it either comes out completely corrupted or their devise simply shuts down fully.
Danny of course has no clue what is happening he's just happy that he's able to help so many ghosts, and is trying not to fail his exams.
~
Danny leaving the house he just helped: "That went easier than I expected!"
Neighbor peeking from the window: "Shit it's that guy! "
~
Red Hood marching down into the cave: " The fucker took many from my territory without me even realizing it!"
~
Tim: "I'm pretty sure his kill count is nearing the hundreds and he just started like maybe 4 months ago, this is bad."
Barbara: " I think I got a theory, this matches up with the new school year beginning so maybe their not a Gotham native which narrows down my suspect list."
Bruce: "Hn."
Tim: "Yes thank you B for the insightful commentary"
~
Danny trying not to fall asleep while on his way to class: "Strange I keep seeing shadows following me, oh well must be the stress!"
Bats who are pretty sure Danny is the killer: "Has he done anything suspicious yet?"
~
Just an Idea
#dp x dc#danny phantom#dc x dp#dpxdc#batman#danny fenton#dp x dc crossover#dc x dp crossover#prompt fill#story prompt#prompts#writing prompt#dp#ghost#ghosts
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Alastor - [ DEVOTION… PT.1 ]
xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxx
[ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ SLIGHT AGE GAP ] + [ ARRANGED MARRIAGE ] + [ BREEDING KINK ] - ( there’s a lot to unpack in this one, I know, but you’ll enjoy it.. also pls kindly lmk the artist for the fanart I used so I can tag them thx! )
xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxx
Alastor Hartifelt was a fantastic husband.
No one could deny that.
Especially not his darling wife of one year and counting.
You, his sole companion during childhood, dawning from a rich family that occupied an estate near his family’s plot of farming land, and exceptionally infatuated with him early into your friendship.
From the very first time you met him out in the sprawling green meadows of Louisiana’s swamped countryside you found comfort in each other even amidst being ignored or teased by other children.
Their shared hatred and resentment towards you and the older boy cultivated an odd but strong bond between you two, and soon your strife to fit in seemed less appealing than being his truest friend.
Alastor immediately became protective of you, finding your shy nature welcoming like his own mothers, but also irritated by those who wished you harm for the simple fact that your family was better off than their own.
If anyone dared to pick a fight, tease, or berate you Alastor was right there to come to your aid. You’d tell him time and time again that fighting for you wasn’t worth it, that seeing him hurt wounded you more than their words, but for some baffling reason he’d never head your pleas.
Why?…
In retrospect Alastor wasn’t sure of the reason himself but he was certain it had something to do with the way you returned the favor by protecting him in your own subtle ways.
Your arms remained wide open when he needed an embrace, voice full of tender understanding when the two of you held quiet conversations late into the evening, and generally being his safe place when the rest of the world refused to be.
You were his darling from the very beginning…
His everything…
Yet, Alastor wouldn’t dare say it aloud..,
The two of you couldn’t be more different to those who observed your relationship from the outside. Alastor held an air of confidence wherever he went, suave, and well mannered. He could be cunning when provoked, dangerously charming to get his way, and refreshingly decisive under any amount of pressure.
A man every woman in New Orleans wanted, craved even, but it was well known the famous radio host had you at his side.
You, the city’s undisputed princess, daughter of a wealthy businessman, but regarded as the furthest thing from a ‘spoiled brat’. It was expected for those in higher circles to have sour and condescending attitudes but you proved to be different. Soft spoken, interested in the arts more than being out on the town, and some might’ve considered you ‘sheltered’ in terms of upbringing.
The contrast between Alastor and yourself brought about many whispered rumors and questions.
“How’d a sweet little thing like her end up with him?”
“Doesn’t he want someone better suited? Whats so special about her?”
“I hear, he married her for the fathers money. Don’t blame him for it either…she’s a real peach…”
“A little young for him don’t you think? She’s a lovely broad though…”
You’d heard it all. Every sort of rumor or piece of gossip people had to offer you’d picked up on rather quickly and at first it bothered you, but overtime seeing Alastor act indifferent to the scandalous comments made you less weary of them.
He’d never entertain the scrutiny, choosing to remind you his decision to marry wasn’t fueled by any ill will and as his wife you’d never need to worry about him caring for you.
Alastor’s always had, even when he’d left New Orleans to build his career he still thought of you from time to time, but that’s all he’d ever done.
Cared for you…
Love seemed to allude his spectrum of emotions and vocabulary. Yes, he shows you affection, buying expensive gifts, making sure you never lifted a finger for anything other than cleaning or cooking when needed, and proudly showing you off on his arm at parties and social events he attended.
Yes, he strived to hide his murderous tendencies, taking extra lengths to shield you from his ‘hunting’ escapades by planning them weeks before, and then going as far as discreetly cleaning his bloody clothes and weapons the night he returns while you slept soundly in your shared bed.
Alastor took great care in showing you he cared but defining his love for you was never addressed.
Not even on your wedding day.
It was as if he’d scripted his vows to say nothing of the emotion and even avoided saying “I love you” back when you’d accidentally let it slip out during your own speech for him.
You hadn’t pressed the issue at all, knowing Alastor struggled with concepts of intimacy and devotion since childhood, but the lmawing teeth of doubt pricked your skin harder with each passing day of your marriage.
Had you made a mistake agreeing to marry him?
Was he seeing someone else?
Someone knowledgeable of the world, maybe more experienced in life than you were, or more attentive?
Was she prettier?
Were you not his kind of woman?
Where did he go so late at night, at random times of the month, with a leather bag in his hand and a wide smile on his face?…
Had Alastor been seeing another woman for a whole year and you were just too oblivious or infatuated to notice?
Did he even like you anymore? Could he ever love you…?
Were you not enough for him?
Thoughts plagued your mind constantly, causing you to be quieter than usual, and less receptive to Alsstors lingering presence.
Your back was to him, giving a good veiw of your small frame as you cooked in the large kitchen. The familiar sight brought a smile to Alastor’s face. You were so focused, hair tied back by a white silk bow, and a sheer floor length robe to match.
He’d bough both for you only a week prior, claiming he couldn’t just let the items sit in the display window when you’d been staring at with such bright stars in your eyes, but in truth Alastor had imagined you wearing it just as you were now and couldn’t resist buying it on the spot.
Your husband remained silent as he watched you waltz around the kitchen, chocolate brown eyes peering over the top of his glasses as he did, but his smile faltering seeing the distress in your delicate features.
You weren’t the type to frown often, always emitting warmth and sweetness, so the rare appearance of anguish in your expression perplexed Alastor.
What had upset his darling wife?
Who would he have to kill?….
Asking what was troubling you would surely give him answers to both questions.
He stepped forward, coming from round the corner to enter the kitchen fully before striding over to stand by your side as you began to mix what he assumed was dessert in a bowl.
Albeit, he was probably right knowing you had a vicious sweet tooth.
“Strawberry cake I presume?” Alastor finally speaks, making his presence known with a cheeky remark, and you nearly jump out of your skin hearing his silky voice resonate around the room.
Your head snaps up to look at him, eyes wide with slight surprise, but they quickly soften as he smiles. A blush creeps onto your cheeks as he steps closer, initiating his usual habit of brushing a stray strand of hair from your face before kissing your temple gently, and only pulling away when you squeak out a greeting back to him.
“H-hi Al…you’re home a bit earlier than I expected…” you swallow thickly, staring at him adoringly for a moment before lowering your gaze as tinges of guilt build in you. “I’m sorry dinner isn’t quite ready yet…” you whisper, feeling shameful, and more agitated with yourself than before. Alastor had and would never berate you, unlike most men of the time he saw no benefit in treating his wife like a slave, and made an effort to remind you not everything had to be perfect.
“It’ s alright, darling. You needn’t rush yourself,” his voice is low, simmering with reassurance as he lifts your chin with his thumb and pointer finger. You smile nervously as your eyes meet his again, his touch firm and electrifying all at once, and your tummy doing several flips when he smiles back at you.
Alastor studies your face, attempting to pinpoint the source of your masked sadness, “You seem…troubled, sweetheart. Is there something wrong?” His genuine question brings a shock to your heart, tongue going numb as you race to think of a believable reason for your dampened mood, “I…I just had a little mishap with this cake batter is all!..”
You step away from him, turning to face the semi clean counter with a false air of cheeriness surrounding you. The fear of sounding needy and demanding while telling Alastor the truth keeps you from being honest with him outright.
Fake it.
I shouldn’t worry him with my insecurities or doubts…
It might push him further away…
The whisk in your hand spins in tight circles as you focus on mixing the overdone batter, beginning to thicken itself more than necessary as you kept going, using the task as a distraction from Alastor’s keen observance.
Something was wrong.
He was sure of it now.
His eyes narrowed behind the circular glasses, hands finding your waist as he came to stand behind you, allowing his chest to press against your back, and his head lowering to tuck into the crook of your neck.
A shiver racked your body as he exhaled a long, steady breath onto your skin. Your hands faltered, flurried movements becoming lax as you froze in his embrace, “When’d you start lying to me, ma chère…” Alastor mumbled into your ear. Every nerve in your body was on alert, shocked that he’d went much further than his usual bounds of physical affection, but pleasantly delighted he’d given it to you.
“M’ not lying,..”you try to uphold your lie through rising pants, tempted to moan quietly feeling his lips graze behind your ear, neck, and bare shoulder while your robe shifted lower. You weren’t certain if Alastor was inching it down by his own accord or your subtle squirming against him was to blame.
The ending result was the same either way. Your upper body gradually becoming exposed to his leering gaze and the cool air. Alastor hummed, the sound rumbling deep in his chest and flooding your mind repeatedly as he placed chaste kisses on your neck.
“I wish I could believe you, darling…” he chuckled lowly, hands inching towards the lace ribbon keeping your gown tied shut, and with one gentle tug he rendered the fabric useless. “Al..” you whined in slight surprise as he snatched the ribbon off, letting it unravel into a small pile on the tile floor before sliding his cold hands up the expanse of your heated torso.
Nothing.
You were wearing absolutely nothing underneath the thin robe and Alastor audibly groaned when he realized it.
Had you planned on this?
Were you just waiting for him to venture further with you?
All this time he’d watched you frolic and pace around your shared home, wondering what was hidden under you seemingly modest clothing….just to find you wore nothing at all…
Oh, what a rare occurrence it was for him to be such a blind fool.
Your hands flew to grasp Alastor’s wrists as he held you tighter, kneading your soft flesh lovingly, and taking his time to admire every dip and curve you had to offer him.
“Al…please..” you begged, visibly shuddering as he nipped at your neck and played with your breasts. “I won’t go any further until I hear the truth from that pretty mouth of yours, sweetheart…”
Damn it….you cursed yourself, slowly losing the will to think as his lips found the most sensitive area on your neck, bruising it with his tongue teeth until you whimpered and rushed out a jumbled explanation for your heavy mood.
“I…Imscaredyoudomtlovseme…th-that you d-don’t want me- Ahm…” you soft voice reached a new octave as your husband slid his free hand between your thighs to cup your mound, gingerly kicking your legs apart with a nudge of his foot against your own, and you tensed all over as he did so.
Fuck, he could definitely feel how desperate you were now, essentially a mess already without Alastor doing much of anything, and embarrassingly unable to control your arousal.
“Love, hm? That’s what’s troubling your precious mind?…” Alastor mulls over your confession, able to maintain his composure despite heat rushing straight through him to the head of his cock as he slid two fingers into your dripping cunt. You jolted from the sudden intrusion, head lulling back to rest on his shoulder as he pumped them in and out of you at a leisurely pace, curling his deft digits fowvard every so often to make you shiver.
His thumb found your clit, pressing defined circles into it as he began to ease your worries, “Love, ma chère, isn’t what I feel for you..” Alastor lets out a soft laugh, trying to calm his own mind before clarifying his vague statement all while pushing you near the edge of your first high.
“No….I feel much more than love for you, my dear. Devotion is a better term…obsession at times…” he admits the darker side of his affection through heavy breaths, cock twitching in his dress pants when you mewl in understanding. Your warm cunt suffocates his fingers for a moment, walls fluttering as the knot in your core threatens to undo itself, causing Alastor to sharply exhale from the inviting fluctuations.
Your lips parted to warm him of your impending orgasm but only a strained moan tumbled off your tongue. Alastor needed no other sign to tell if you were close, inwardly prideful he could make you come with ease.
“Go on, come undone for me , darling,” he insists in a hushed groan, his fingers stretching your walls in a fluid rhythm to drag your climax out, and you could’ve tumbled to the floor from the sheer intensity of the knot inside you snapping on his command.
Thankfully his taller frame kept you securely trapped between him and the counter that you soon found yourself sitting on the edge of after Alastor slipped his hand away from your throbbing cunt.
You watched with a dazed eyes as the older man licked a stripe of your cum off his fingers, brown eyes sliding shut as he let out a satisfied grunt before staring at your willing form perched on the counters edge.
The sight drew a his hidden hunger closer to the surface, toying with his self control as he took it in, and urging him to act on a primal instinct he’d only ever describe as “intense affection”.
Was that a flash of red in his eyes just now?
No , it couldn’t be…
You weren’t left much time to decipher the hungry glint in his eyes before Alastor reclaimed his position near you. His slender waist slotted perfectly between your thighs, the robe now draped off your back, and your hair gradually falling loose from its simple updo as his hands traced your sides.
“Love, sweet girl, is for lonesome fools…” Alastor pressed his forehead to yours, letting you chase his lips for one heated kiss after the next, and only denying you another to whisper against your soft and slightly swollen lips.
“Neither of us are alone or fools, correct?” He huffs as you nod slowly, bringing your hands up to undo his tie, and then proceeding to expertly unbutton his vest and dress shirt.
The general charm that Alastor maintained completely dissolved into pining under your gentle fingertips, an almost desperate shot of adrenaline consuming him as you peppered kisses along his jaw and neck.
If what he said was truly how he felt about you…it was enough to stamp out your doubts, allowing the adoring side of you he’d grown familiar with to resurface, “No…we aren’t,” you respond with a small smile.
He tips your chin up, placing a deep kiss on your lips as he shrugs his shirt and vest off, setting his glasses to the side as well before reaching for the leather belt on his waist.
You paid his actions no mind, busy with fighting his tongue for dominance, but admitted defeat quite fast as his wandered your mouth in expert fashion.
Your soft hands passed over his chest, moving up to tangle in his soft curls, gently tugging the strands to earn a groan from him. Alastor pulled back, a single line of spit connecting you two as he did so, and his hair falling in front of his eyes as he stared down into your tear glossed gaze, “You’re mine, ma chère. Til death and beyond…”
You nod, halfway coherent, but mustering the will to answer him with a content smile.
“Til death…” you repeat the phrase, mind reeling further from logical thinking as Alastor hummed hearing your dazed response, head nestled in your neck once more before he trailed open mouthed kisses down the expanse of your trembling frame. He brought himself as close as possible to you, smiling on your skin as you gasp quietly feeling his clothed erection press flush against your bare stomach, leaning further back in his hold embrace him better. You feared making a mess of the counter but as Alastor trailed his lips down your body and kneeled between your legs he gave one swift snap of his fingers to eliminate the obstacle entirely.
What?….How in the world did he do that?…
Your curiosity would’ve prompted you to ask him about the absurd occurrence if it weren’t for the anticipation rushing your blood as he came face to face with your cunt. “Alastor?…” you squeaked his name softly, attempting to close your legs when he sighed out a warm breath on your glistening folds, but he held them open using one hand with ease. The other resting steady on your waist, guiding you to lay back onto the cold marble countertop, and lingering there as you obeyed his wordless command.
“Good girl…” he praised, tone deepening as you whined quietly, the sound morphing into a loud moan as he lazily flicked his tongue over your slit once…twice…and a third time.
“More…” you pant in the midst of moaning, head craning to the side while your back arched and the urge to scream built in your chest as Alastor obliged your request with vigorous intent. He hummed melodically as your taste seeped onto his tongue, walls ever so sensitive as he explored them tirelessly, and a smirk playing on his lips as you writhed in pleasure.
Your face was soon flushed completely, eyes watering as they rolled slightly with each pass of his tongue over your cunt, and your small hands returning to tug at his soft brown hair. Another coil spiraled in your stomach hearing him groan in response, seeming to enjoy how roughly you pulled his hair, and his gaze drifting up for a split second to get a good view of your satiated state.
Seven hells….she looks even lovelier like this…
Alastor unconsciously drags you closer to his face, not caring at all when you lock your legs around his head and cry out from the borderline bruising hold he has on you now. “Oh god!…” you yelp, throwing him a bewildered glance before tossing your head back as he lapped at your clit like he’d starve to death without it, and the relentless attention to your bundle of nerves was the last thing you could comprehend before the knot unwinded itself.
Your vision blurred over, everything starting to spin as your cum gushed into his mouth, and the tears you were fighting to hide slid freely down your face as he downed every single drop your body offered.
It was all too much, the hunger in his eyes, his hold on you, and your high that never seemed to subside even as he broke away from your cunt with a satisfied smile on his face.
It was all too much at once….
Your head buzzed with euphoric afterthoughts, incoherency daring to cloud your senses entirely, but the sound of Alastor’s voice near your ear successfully halted the sensations long enough for you to comprehend what he was saying.
“You taste divine, ma chère…” his musing flusters you, a light shade of pink coating your cheeks as he dips his head to steal a kiss from you, “Al…” you sigh into his mouth, biting back a keen smile, and wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him near.
He chuckles hearing the unsteady tremor in your tone, adding onto his compliment after capturing your parted lips in another deep kiss, “I presume you’ll feel just as wonderful with me inside you, sweetheart…”
His assumption proved true. So much so that the moment his cock passed through your slippery folds a heavy groan of your name was the first and only thing he could manage to say. “Y/n….mon amor…” Alastor held you underneath him, not daring to move without completely relishing in the way your cunt wrapped around him first, and your broken moans dizzying the last bit of self control he was clinging onto.
You tried not to seem overwhelmed, with your legs wrapped around his waist, and your hands cupping his face to keep him as close as possible while your body adjusted to his size. With furrowed brows and a soft smile you praised your husbands well endowed length as he finally drew his hips back, leaving nothing but the head his cock resting in you.
“You…feel…s’good….” You whisper, breathless as he slams back in, swallowing your pleased cries with one tender kiss after the next. He tasted like you, hints of bourbon lingering on his tongue from the drink he’d poured himself before leaving the station, but your essence more prominent than ever.
All that he was, all that he did, and would ever do revolved around you.
His darling wife…
His one and only….
It showed through the sweet phrases he muttered against your lips as he took his time to please you, pace slow and deliberate, but the execution precise and cutthroat.
You weren’t sure when you’d raised your voice, crying out louder as he abused your sweetest spot continuously, and only going silent when a inaudible scream begged to leap from your chest while his cock bullied into cervix. Stars collected in your vision, hands clawing at Alastor’s back as you tried to hang onto reality for dear life, but failing miserably when he sped up his thrusts.
A subtle laugh passed his lips, eyes glinting with greedy lust as your head flew back, exposing all the love bites he’d left on your delicate skin, and the sight caused his cock to twitch inside you.
“F-fuck….Al!” Your eyes watered once more, sliding shut as a familiar pressure built in your core, rapidly gaining density the longer Alastor fucked into you.
He groaned at the sound of you shouting his name in such a twisted mix of ecstasy and anguish. Your soft voice becoming tainted with an edge he’d never imagined it could have. “Close already, my dear?..” he teased you, smile as smug as ever as he stood up straight, hands gripping either side of your hips, and his gaze lowering to where you two connected.
“Look…at…that…” he mused, suddenly slowing his thrusts to a painfully harsh pace, fixated on the way your cunt continuously creamed on his length. Alastor bit his tongue to keep from growling at the view, barely registering your whines and pleads for him to go faster.
“Al…Alastor…please..m’ begging you…please…” you felt your thighs shake as he continued his lazy strokes, clearly wanting to drag the ordeal out for his personal entertainment, and his lack of sympathy for your plight in that moment edged you even closer to cumming.
He knew it too…
That infamous grin on his face as he watched you resort to quiet sobs and desperate moans was a sure sign of the fact…
Alastor knew you needed him, loved him, lived for him..
“Please what, mon chere?” He bit his lip, unhooking your legs from around his waist to push them to your chest, giving his cock a new angle to stretch your cunt with.
You felt like passing out then, all strength evaporating from your body as he reached places inside you that surely didn’t exist before. His taunting didn’t make your dazed state any better, “Please, ruin you? Please, love you?… Let me hear you loud and clear, darling..”
Before you could register the words they flew from you mouth in a hushed flurry of need.
“Please…love me…fuck me like you love me…use me…I don’t care anymore…”
Alastor immediately rewarded your answer, wasting no time as his hips snapped into yours feverishly, flooding the kitchen with the sound of skin against skin.
“Lovely…” he cooed, voice thick with tension as he stared down at your overstimulated form, and within seconds of the praise slipping off his tongue you came undone. He followed shortly after, not caring to ask where you wanted his release, and you made no protest as the warm white liquid spilled inside you.
All you could do was stare, mouth falling open as he fucked his cum deeper, “It’s high time you became a mother, mon chere. You’d like that wouldn’t you?..” Alastor rambled, hardly coherent as his high coursed through him, but his statement crystal clear to you.
“Yes…” you whimper in response, walls clenching his cock as the thought of carrying his child sprung into your mind. “I’d love it…Al.”
His heart nearly stops as a genuine closed eye smile graces your face, a light blush painting your cheeks as he kisses them gently while gingerly slipping his softened cock out of your leaking heat. Alastor then lets your legs fall, lifting you to sit up straight on the counter again before wrapping his arms around your waist.
You hang onto him for balance, feeling entirely small in his grasp, and finding comfort in the embrace as exhaustion trickles in.
Alastor breathed in your sweet scent, beginning to pull your robe back on your tired form before reaching for his dress shirt. He was careful not to stir you away from his chest as he shrugged the clothing back on
“I’d love you and our child more than anything…” he nonchalantly mumbles, kissing the top of your head, and chuckling when your tied eyes go wide with undeniable hope.
“More than anything?…”
“Anything, my dear…” he repeats himself with a soft smile, bringing a hand up to push fallen strands of hair from your face.
That was when it occurred to you…
Alastor Hartiflet could love…
He’d always been able to….
And he loved you enough to share it with another…
How surreal….
xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxx
This entire 1st part was brought to you by the Great Gatsby movie soundtrack…❤️ you’re welcome… ;)
[ BONUS CONTENT + ]
Actually it MIGHT BE 12 inches if we are being honest… ❤️ credits to creator.
#Spotify#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor headcanons#hazbin hotel alastor#human alastor#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel headcanon#alastor fluff#alastor hartfelt#alastor smut#alastor the radio demon#the radio demon#hard thoughts#alastor x reader#alastor x you#hazbin alastor#alastor x oc#alastor human
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Hey, can I request zoro x reader (established relationship) where the Strawhats end up going to reader’s home island (unknown to anyone in the group aside from reader), and the reader is super nervous and refuses to leave the boat, so the crew goes out and walk around and they find a missing/wanted poster of the reader and find out she’s a run away princess that needed to be. Later they coke to find out that reader ran away cause her parents and the servants mistreated and was about to marry her off to a violent prince
opla requests are: open
lips on every cross
opla!zoro; 5,989 words; fem!reader, semi-established?? relationship, posessive!zoro, strawhat!reader, no "y/n", reader gets kidnapped, fluff and angst, very brief! mentions of past familial abuse and trauma, nicknames ("Princess"), slow-ish burn???, more plot than not
summary: zoro has never thought himself a holy man. but he'd kiss every cross if it meant finding his way back to you.
a/n: idk why every opla fic i write is like... more plot than i bargained for but here we are. literally, this fic was just supposed to be "zoro calls the reader 'princess'".
01. when love arrives
(“Hey Princess —“)
The nickname starts, as almost all things do on the Going Merry, as a joke. And, as with most jokes made amongst the rag-tag crew, it sticks. He’d said it because he’s sure you’d mentioned your name once or twice already, but he’d been napping or eating and he didn’t feel like looking like an asshole right that moment.
The ribbon in your hair had caught the light in just the right way, pale pink satin — such a strange, soft color amidst the careening, careless ocean, and the word just… slipped.
“Why’dyou call her that?” Luffy asks, lounging back against the main mast as Zoro works through the umpteenth rep of single-armed pushups.
Zoro puffs out a breath and switches arms.
“Dunno. Seemed like it fit.”
Luffy slates you a long glance, blinking owlishly.
“Really? Eh — I guess… well, she is really pretty.”
Zoro only grunts, jumping up and stretching both arms over his head with a long, steady breath. His eyes flicker towards you as well, laughing with Nami on the foredeck, sipping on cocktails, Sanji probably simping somewhere nearby.
He thinks back to where they’d found you, hood pulled low over your eyes, the tell-tale signs of distress carved into every line of your body, from the curve of your spine to the bend of your shoulders.
Luffy hadn’t asked questions, so Zoro hadn’t either.
Curiosity, the fatal flaw that runs so sharp and obvious through the entirety of Luffy’s being, hasn’t always been rewarded well in Zoro’s experience. And he’s learned by now that “truth will out”, or so they say.
(“C’mon, Princess, I thought you said you could drink.”)
Caution, on the other hand, is Zoro’s oldest friend. You are cautious, if nothing else, and the first time he sees you relax in his presence, he wonders to himself if there’s a drug in this world strong enough to induce this feeling.
Later, he would learn that this is simply called falling in love.
He isn’t the only one who notices how you casually dip a silver fork or knife into every single drink before you take a sip, or that sometimes, you blurt out the word “no’ like a promise to yourself, and “sorry” like a plea for help.
And he’s spent long enough being a hunter to know what being hunted looks like. So he doesn’t ask, and you don’t answer, and somehow, you still manage to make yourself a home in the dark caverns of his chest, curling up there till he can’t count his heartbeats without it sounding like the shadow of your name on the midnight wind.
02. a study of light and dark
The drinking game starts off innocently enough (and don’t they always), but it takes half a round for the questions and subsequent answers to devolve into loud laughter and debauchery, delirium and debasement.
“Alright, alright —“ Sanji holds up a hand, tossing back his shot to raucous cheers, “worst thing you’ve done in a closet. Go —“
Zoro rolls his eyes and takes the shot, foregoing his answer. Nami simply grins, catlike, swirling her own drink around her glass.
“In your wildest dreams, cook,” she says before taking her shot as well. Sanji lets out a contemplative whistle, followed by a good-natured wink.
“Define worst, cause… I mean, I’ve puked in like… most of them back in Syrup Village,” Usopp says. Sanji only chuckles, shrugging.
“We’ll take it, we’ll take it.”
Luffy hums, frowning for a second before smacking a fist into his open palm, grinning, “I took a nap!”
Everyone laughs, helpless and buoyed up by the casual effervescence of a night like this — when the moon is dark and the stars are bright and thin wisps of silver clouds mar the sky like tendrils of lost daydreams, caught on the wrong side of sunset.
When the laughter settles down, everyone turns to you.
You purse your lips, feeling the weight of your answer pressing down on the tip of your tongue — I hid. And I waited. And I tried not to listen.
As the silence stretches on, Zoro leans forward and uncrosses his arms, reaching out to nudge a full shot glass towards you.
“Times up, Princess — drink,” and though there’s nothing soft or even forgiving in his voice, but you feel yourself relax as everyone boos and you take your shot.
The heat of Zoro’s gaze only lingers on your skin for a moment longer before he leans back again, that familiar almost-grin tugging lazily at his lips as he turns half-lidded eyes towards the rest of his crew.
(“Talk to me, Princess.”)
When you find him later, fumbling in the dark of the hallway just outside his room, you kiss him without saying “thank you” and he doesn’t question it when, pressed beneath him on the rough linen of his sheets, you ask to keep the lights on.
03. etymology
Princess — it’s a nice word, Zoro muses to himself. The light pop of the ‘p’ rolling into the warm, round ‘r’, thinning out into the sensual layering of the double ‘s’s, till you’re left with nothing but a hiss, a shadow, a memory.
It’s a regal word; a pretty word. Though its origins might be anything but.
From the Latin primus “first” and cept “catcher”, or so Robin had told him over the pages of an ancient book he hadn’t bothered to ask the name of, because Princes and Kings have always obtained their powers through taking, and never asking. Reaping, and never sowing.
Zoro thinks then that this, too, is a form conquest — you over him. The totality of your power stunning to behold, if only because he has to let you take it in the first place. And he does so willingly.
He wonders if you, too, are as multifaceted as his nickname for you — delicacy and desire wrapped around a darker something, lace laid over a knife’s unforgiving edge.
The first time he dares to kiss you, he feels you kissing him back, the sharp canines of your teeth catching on his lower lip, drawing out a soft grunt from him. You’d paused, and then you’d bitten down harder just to hear him gasp into your mouth.
He knew then, without ever having to ask, that you are.
04. tip of the iceberg
It is winter when they arrive — but then again, it is always winter here. Here, the cold runs so deep it drives frost crystals into the marrow of your bones. Here, the wind howls like a wounded animal and the night falls with a savage, carnal vengeance, all black velvet and a blood-tinted moon.
Here, the snow storms turn living, breathing heroes into song lyrics and poetry rhymes.
You inhale a single breath before turning and heading back below deck.
Zoro frowns, and at a single look from Luffy, he follows you beneath, only to find you rummaging around the kitchen, tugging a bottle of moonshine out from under the sink.
“Whoa,” Zoro says, reaching out to stop you from uncorking the bottle, an eyebrow raised. He doesn’t miss the way you shiver, “bit early, isn’t it?”
“Bit rich, coming from you,” you snap, eyes sharp, voice stinging.
Zoro only cocks his other eyebrow in tandem and pulls the bottle from your hands before turning and grabbing two glasses from the cupboard. He takes his time filling them both with ice, and then pouring a finger into each glass.
You don’t meet his eyes as you reach out for your glass, but he catches your wrist.
“A drink for an answer,” he says.
You pause, your lips pressed into a thin, white line. And he knows it’s unfair, to turn this game around on you, because he can tell from the hard set of your shoulders that this is so much more than a drinking game but if this is what it takes to get the truth — then so be it.
“Fine,” you say, glancing away, voice clipped.
You move to take a sip, but Zoro pushes down your hand again.
“No lying.”
You scoff, narrowing your eyes, “Obviously.”
He eases off, picking up his own glass and clinking it against yours before taking a light swig, “You know this place.”
This time, you’re the one who turns around with a cocked brow.
“Got a question in there somewhere?”
Zoro’s lips twitch, “Yes, or no.”
You sigh, tapping a finger against the edge of your cup, “Yes.”
Zoro hums, “Your turn.”
You chew on your lips before taking a sip, “Why do you care so much?”
Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth, “Stupid question. Next.”
You huff, “That’s not how this game goes.”
Zoro swirls his glass before setting it down on the counter with a loud clack, “Because I care about you.”
You pause with your own drink halfway to your mouth and look up. Zoro doesn’t shy away from meeting your gaze and for a moment, time statics to a halt around you.
Then, Zoro sighs, unclenching his jaw as he attempts a lopsided smile.
“Hey, talk to me,” he reaches out to trail a finger along the high of your cheekbones, up to the shell of your ear.
The ‘please’ hangs silent in the air between you; the ‘Princess’ is implied.
And for the first time, he thinks he sees you flinch. He makes to pull back but you tug his hand forward, pressing your cheek against his palm.
“This island,” you say, finally, the tremor in your voice like a hairline fracture snaking through a porcelain vase, “it’s… well, it used to be… my home.”
05. the secret history
It is the most beautiful place any of them have ever been.
The castle is made entirely of ice, the cold winter sun refracting the light into a million and one unseen colors. Giant ice-carved sculptures dot the crystal-flower gardens, and it takes them all a few minutes to realize that the gorgeous, delicate blooms are made of glass, blown and shaped to mirror real-life snowflakes — each unique, glittering, and eternal.
“Dude… how long do you think all this took to make?” Usopp asks, his head turning as if on a swivel, his jaw hinging off his face in awe.
Robin sighs, “Too long, perhaps.”
Zoro stays quiet, and beside him, so does Nami.
You’d insisted on staying back, to guard the ship, you’d said. But the space you usually fill in the group hangs solid in the air, a gaping hole of lack when there should be none.
Luffy hums and he marches out in front of them, ever the dubious, fearless leader. Though most of the crew has now come to terms with the fact that “courage” and “sheer bull-headedness” are often two sides of the same coin for him.
It’s Sanji who pauses first, causing Chopper to ram into the back of his knees.
“Ouch! What’dyou do that f —”
“Look,” Sanji says, pointing at a poster pasted to the slick outer wall of the castle gates.
And they do, leaning in, crowding too close. Zoro grunts as Chopper jumps and scrambles up his back to peer over his shoulder at the face plastered on the dew-soaked poster, the words LOST PRINCESS: 120,000,000 FOR ANY INFORMATION THAT LEADS TO HER WHEREABOUTS printed in giant, familiar block letters along the bottom.
Beside him, Zoro can feel Nami swallowing. Hard.
“A hundred and twenty million berry…” she murmurs, her breath going shallow as they all stare, dumbfounded at the poster of what is unmistakably you.
You, with your exquisite features schooled into something like solemnity, your usually wind-swept hair twisted up into a tight braid across the crown of your head, a diadem of ice-white silver and light-cut jewels jutting up from your severe updo like so many broken teeth, sharp and unforgiving as stalagmites.
If none of them had known, it’d be impossible to reconcile you with this cold, distant portrait, your eyes rendered lifeless and dull by the depthless black ink.
Luffy, however, only blinks and turns to stare at Zoro.
“Did you know?”
“What?”
Luffy continues to stare, “When I asked why you always call her ‘Princess’.”
Zoro sighs, turning his eyes back to the WANTED poster before shaking his head.
“No. Like I said… I thought it just… fit.”
06. eternal day
Zoro is itching to get back to the ship. There’s a fish-line sliver of worry tugging at the place behind his chest where his heart should be, and he knows implicitly that something is wrong.
“Don’t worry, she can take care of herself!” Luffy says, smiling bright, his confidence unwavering.
“No Luffy, Zoro’s right — someone should be with her. What if —” and here, Nami glances at Zoro before turning her attention back to Luffy, “— she might need the backup,” is what she finally settles with. And to Zoro’s great relief, Luffy agrees.
And then, to everyone’s horror, off in the distance, your voice rises over the wind in a blood-curdling scream.
07. endless night
By the time Zoro makes it back to the ship, you are already gone.
08. torn asunder
Gone, gone, gone. The word echoes like an ill-fated alarm bell, ringing through Zoro’s entire body as he catapults himself through the ship, slamming open every door, checking every nook, corner, and crevice. Signs of a struggle, that much is clear, scuffs on the freshly waxed planks of the aft deck, nail marks along the railings, and —
Zoro’s breath freezes in his chest.
A smear of blood that drips over the side of the ship, trailing down the ladder.
A flash of pale pink catches his eye.
Your satin hair ribbon lies abandoned on the wharfs’ boardwalk, the faintest splatter of red soaking its ends.
He picks it up between gentle fingers and tucks it deep into his pocket.
His vision blurs red as he thinks about the things your captors might’ve done to you before dragging you off. He’s seen you fight and it wouldn’t have been easy to bring you down.
And by the time the rest of the crew reach him, he’s already sprinting back towards the castle, his jaw set, his teeth gritted.
It takes the combined effort of Sanji, Luffy, and Robin to stop him from charging through the castle gates and tearing the whole place down.
“Runnin’ round like a headless chicken’s not gonna do her any good, mate,” Sanji says, a smoke already caught between his teeth. A pre-fight ritual of his.
Zoro jerks his arm out of Sanji’s grasp, stalking down the street with a huff.
Robin strolls after him, somehow keeping pace, looking unhurried as Zoro tamps down the blind urge to slash the entire island in half.
“We’ll find her,” Robin says, her voice level, even as her sharp eyes scan the white-specked horizon, the usually amused half-twist of her lips laid flat by worry, “and she’s stronger than you think.”
At this, Zoro whips around, “I know —” but he bites down the venom threatening to surge up the back of his throat with a sigh. Robin doesn’t flinch, and Zoro attempts a steadying breath before repeating himself in a slightly softer tone, “I know… I’m just…”
Robin nods, and Zoro is thankful that he doesn’t have to finish his sentence.
09. the tower and the throne
The cold greets you like a scorned lover— a spiteful, savage mistress. Tendrils of frost creep along the walls of your old bedroom to caress your cheeks. You shiver and wrap your arms around yourself, sitting on familiar satin sheets.
“Dinner is soon, darling,” your mother’s cool voice calls from outside your bedroom door, “and make yourself presentable — we’ve got guests.”
The sadistic lilt of her voice as she says the word ‘guests’ makes you jerk your head up, staring at the door as if you might be able to bore through the thick wood with nothing but your eyes. And, almost as if she can feel you staring, you hear your mother’s cold, tinkling laughter.
“Hurry now… I had your favorite dress put out for you. It should still fit — and we don’t want to keep them… waiting.”
The slow, sanguine pause before her last word makes you want to rip out your hair and scream into the wind till your voice gives out.
Instead, you push yourself up and reach for the dress laid out at the foot of your bed with shaking fingers.
The dress fits you like a second skin, the delicate lace trim barely sweeping the floor as you adjust the bodice, grimacing at your reflection in the large, floor-length mirror. It is as if the last ten months had never happened, as if you’d never escaped this terrifying hellscape of a winter wonderland. As if you’d simply dreamed every single sun-filled afternoon, every star-strewn night spent laughing and singing amongst your new-found crew.
Here, in the fragile glass reflection, you are once again a girl trapped behind her own ribcage, with a destiny carved into stone and ice, with no hope of summer in sight. You take a long breath and tighten the ribbons of your dress.
You are still and silent as the maid slips in through the door after a single knock and begins to twist up your hair. Tighter and tighter, till it sets your teeth on edge. When she pins the crown in place, it takes everything inside you not to fall apart, to shatter at the weight, the sight of it sitting on your head. You swallow as the maid dips her head and backs out of the room with a murmured dinner is served, Princess.
For the first time, you wince openly at her words.
10. waiting for the rain
The hall is just how you remembered it, huge and cavernous, gaping like the empty maw of some petrified monster, the ceiling hanging with so many cold, sparkling chandeliers, ice-carved statues jutting up from the floors like teeth.
You’re marched in like a show animal, the great marble doors swinging open before you as you step forward and feel your breath freeze in your chest.
There, strung up on a massive statue of some long-forgotten saint, is Zoro, cuts and bruises marring his already scarred and puckered torso. But he smirks as he sees you come in, his eyes bright as he spits a mouthful of blood onto the seemingly endless white floors. Around him, the rest of your crew sits, tied and slumped over in chairs like so many sleeping mannequins.
“Hey there, Princess. Just in time for dinner.”
You nearly wince at the raspiness in his voice, the faint trickle of blood that leaks out the corner of his mouth.
“Silence,” your father’s voice echoes out from the high-backed chair at the head of the ludicrously long table. You don’t have to see to know his face is as smooth as just-applied plaster. But Zoro only has eyes for you — and he continues to talk as if he hadn’t been interrupted.
“If you’d told us we’d be welcomed like this, we might’ve packed differently.”
You bite down on your bottom lip so hard you almost taste the metallic tang of blood.
“Our daughter has always been a skillful liar — though it’s a habit we tried to… rid her of in her youth. The lesson never seemed to have stuck.” Your mother this time. And now, you can see the muscle ticking in Zoro’s jaw as he scoffs.
“Really? And here I always thought she was shit at lying.”
You swallow down a whimper as the maid wordlessly leads you to the far end of the table, where Zoro is still tied. You drop into the seat between a snoring Luffy and an eerily still Nami, and it’s all you can do not to turn around and retch onto the silk embroidered rug.
“Be that as it may…” your mother’s voice drops a few degrees — an admirable feat, as her voice is usually just on the other side of frigid, “it’s bad luck to kill on the eve of a royal wedding.”
At this, Zoro’s head snaps around and you shrink back in your chair, your eyes fixed on your fists, clenched in your lap.
“Mother,” you grind out, finally forcing your head up so as to meet her piercing, blizzard-bright gaze, “I’ve told you, I’ve no intention of getting married. At least not to the mongrel you’ve decided to set me up with.”
You spit out the last sentence, trying to remember all the snark, all the confidence that’d built up inside you over the past weeks and months. Away from this dreaded castle and on the sun-soaked bow of the Going Merry, it was the first time you’d begun to discover who you are — the things you liked, the ways of life that you yearned for.
Your father slams a hand on the table at the same moment that Zoro lets out a bark of laughter.
“Insolence!”
“Damn, Princess — you never told me you could bite.”
And, to your horror and perhaps deep-seated pleasure, a blush works its way into your cheeks at Zoro’s words. Your eyes snap towards him, catching his gaze as he smirks at you. And even though his shirt is slashed, his sword hilts hanging woefully empty at this hip, his hands twisted painfully behind him on the statue, he still manages an easy, condescending air.
You seize at this tiny tendril of normalcy as you force a wane smile.
“I might be persuaded to do more than that… if you ask nicely.”
Zoro’s snicker is drowned out by your mother’s sharp gasp. But you don’t look away, holding Zoro’s gaze for as long as you dare — in it, you find an entire abyss of barely concealed rage (and is that… amusement?), his entire body straining against the shackles that hold him. Then, his eyes slip from you to a point just over your shoulder.
It’s then that you realize: Luffy’s not snoring anymore.
11. to reap and to sow
You’re never quite certain of how the Merry’s crew seems to always just wriggle out of frankly gruesome and untimely deaths, but here you are, racing for the docks like your lives depended on it. Because, well, it kind of does.
“Remind me —” you shout between pants, one hand clutched firmly in Zoro’s, the other doing its best to lift the ridiculous dinner dress they’d put you in — a confection of lace and tulle, the bodice laced with pale pink satin ribbon, “how the hell did you guys manage to trick my parents into thinking you’d eaten the spiked food?”
Sanji flashes you a toothy grin, “Ah love… you know how it is — ask us no questions, and we’ll tell you no lies!”
Luffy, however, whoops as he launches himself from a pair of solid brick buildings, catapulting himself over your sprinting crew.
“We just — pretended to eat! I mean — I did kinda actually eat a bit — but — it wasn’t that bad!”
You resist the urge to pinch your nose bridge at the nonchalance with which Luffy is talking about consuming poisoned food, but you’ve only got two hands and both are equally occupied at the moment. You settle for an exasperated sigh.
“That was — really stupid! — What if — they’d — poisoned the food — with something — other than — sleeping medicine?!” you ask, forcing air into your lungs as finally, you all round the bend onto the bustling pier, the Going Merry’s unmistakable shape silhouetted against the misty horizon.
“We can talk when — we’re all back — on the ship!” Nami calls as she sprints passed you, reaching out a hand for Luffy, who’s elongated arm grabs her and slings her onto the deck of the ship. You barely have a second to breathe before Zoro’s arm loops around your waist and you’re being pulled tight into his side.
His breath is hot against your collarbone as he smirks, “Hold on tight, Princess.”
It’s all you can do to listen as you’re suddenly whipped through the air like a doll on a drunken marionette’s string. A bright peal of Luffy-tinted laughter later, you thud onto the deck of the Going Merry, the breath knocked clean from your lungs as the world spins and spins. You’d expected to hit solid wood, or maybe even the railing or the mast but —
Zoro groans beneath you, and it takes you a long second to realize that he’d cushioned your fall, your bodies pressed chest to chest, hip to hip, your arms still wrapped around his shoulders, his still steady around your waist.
“O-oh! Sorry —” you try to pull away but Zoro’s grip on you only tightens.
You freeze as he blinks up at you, eyes slightly narrowed.
“Crown’s crooked,” Zoro finally says, that tell-tale smirk twisting the edge of his lips as his gaze flickers upwards. Your hand jumps to the crown, somehow still clipped into your now disheveled hair, lopping to one side as the braids start to come loose. You purse your lips.
“I never liked it anyway…” You make to tug it out but Zoro reaches up to right it, though he lets his hand linger as he falls along the side of your face.
“Nah, looks good on you.” His voice is so low, and suddenly, air is such a language that you’re certain you’d forgotten how to speak. Slowly, he pushes up till you’re both sitting, you still pressed against him and him still pressed against you. Distantly, you can hear shouting, Usopp’s voice raised high over the wind as the Merry careens out of port and towards the open sea.
But strangely, no one makes to pull you away from him, or him from you.
“I should’ve told you guys…” you say, eyes casting down as you rest your palms against his chest. Beneath it, you can feel his heart — pounding, pounding, pounding. There’s a light sheen of sweat glimmering on his honeyed skin as you swallow, looking back up even as he chuckles.
“Sure, but we should’ve asked.”
You bite your lips, “I think you did.”
Zoro grins, shrugging as he helps you up, somehow managing to keep his arm slipped around your waist.
“Well. Should’ve asked better, then.”
12. lost stars
It takes you a while to tell them the story — the real story, the whole story. And there’s drinking involved, but it’s mostly just you clutching at your half-filled glass, Zoro’s knee pressed comfortingly against yours, even though his eyes are closed, his head leaned back, his arms crossed loosely over his chest.
You tell them about the dark underbelly of royalty that everyone knows but no one wants to talk about — the blood and teeth beneath the silk and silver. You tell them about being raised a bargaining chip, of being sold and promised like a prized heifer on auction day.
You tell them about the moonless nights when the only thing you had to keep you company was the cold, about the “lessons” your mother would teach you, about how the maids would be instructed to hide the bruises just so, about the Prince who you were set to marry and the rumors that plagued his castle —
“They say that he’d take the prettiest girls from the surrounding town as his maids and that none of them ever walked out of his castle again,” you say. The moonshine burns on its way down your throat as you finish your drink.
Wordlessly, Zoro reaches over to pluck the glass from your hand and set it on the table. It’s only then that you realize your fingers are white and trembling.
“Did he hurt you?”
Zoro’s voice is not loud, but everyone turns to look at him. You shake your head, clasping your hands in your lap.
“No. I only ever… met him once, at a dinner party. It was after that that I… ran away.”
Zoro hums, leaning back again, “Good.”
Across the room, Sanji blows out a series of smoke rings and frowns.
“Were you about to offer to hunt him down?” Robin asks, sounding amused.
Zoro shrugs, “Wouldn’t have offered — would’ve just done it.”
“He sounds like the kinda guy we should hunt down anyway, no?” Luffy asks, cocking his head as he looks back at you, “I mean, I’m glad he never hurt you but… he’s still hurting people!”
“Luffy’s got a point,” Sanji says, stubbing out his cigarette.
“For once, I agree with Sanji,” Nami says.
There’s a light squabble during which Sanji makes an aggrieved noise and Nami rolls her eyes, and then everyone is laughing and chatting and more drinks are being poured. Next to you, Zoro reaches out to wrap his arm around your waist again. It’s something he’s been doing more lately, and you can’t honestly say that you mind it much at all.
“We don’t have to,” he says, leaning forward, almost as if to brush his lips by your ear, “if… if you don’t want to.”
You shiver at the base rumble of his voice, at the way his eyes are so warm and full of some uncertain promise.
“No, I… I do want to. It’s just…”
Zoro’s fingers trace small, absent-minded circles into the skin of your waist and you fight down another shiver.
“I don’t plan on letting you get kidnapped again, Princess.”
Your gaze snaps up to meet Zoro’s, and there’s a faint smile kissing the line of his lips. And suddenly, the lightness of his touch doesn’t feel so thoughtless as heat curls out from the place where his palm meets your skin, radiating out till you’re breathless with it.
“Oh?”
“Never liked people trying to take what’s mine.”
And the dark possessiveness with which he says mine leaves little room for interpretation, even as you lick your lips and try to think of something witty to say.
“I don’t remember agreeing to be yours.”
It’s the best you can come up with; Zoro’s only response is a soft, contemplative grunt.
“What’s that saying? ‘Actions speak louder than words’?” he flashes you a satisfied grin as you narrow your eyes at him, swatting at his chest as he laughs.
“I meant it though,” he says, a moment later, as the rest of the crew all chatter around you, “about calling it off if you don’t want to. But…” he reaches up a free hand to tug a strand of your hair free from the ponytail it’s tied up in.
“Figured you might sleep better at night knowing he’s gone.”
You let out a breath you hadn’t been aware you were holding, your whole body softening as you lean into him, pressing your palms to his chest as he looks at you.
“Yeah… I think I might. And… like you said… it’s not like I’m gonna get kidnapped again.”
You smile, letting your eyes flicker down to Zoro’s lips. His smile is pleased and just a little jagged as he tugs you up by the hand and the pair of you slip from the room.
Above deck, the sun is setting, and the warm, slanted light casts the entire ship in a glaze of gold that looks almost gilded. You lean against the railings, closing your eyes and letting the warmth of the sun seep into your skin, chasing away the chill that’d been lingering at your fingertips since you’d all made your spectacular escape from your home island.
You feel rather than hear Zoro join you. You take your time breathing in the salty tang of the humid sea air before opening your eyes and slating him a side-long look.
“Thank you,” you say.
“For what?”
“For coming after me.”
Zoro scoffs, turning away from the roiling waves to lean back against the railings, his head cocked as he looks you over.
“Like I said… I don’t like it when people try to take what’s mine.”
But this time, you laugh, nodding, “So you’ve said. But still… thanks.”
“Hn.”
Zoro closes his eyes, seemingly enjoying the last vestiges of the setting sun as it sinks ever-lower along the horizon. Then, he opens one eye to peer at you.
“Though I’ve been meaning to ask —”
“Hm?”
“What’s this about doing more than biting… if asked about it nicely enough?”
You try to duck your head but Zoro catches your chin in his fingers.
“I — I just… knew it would piss off my mother if she —”
“Mm, sounded like more than that to me.”
Your breath hitches as Zoro’s thumb traces a rough line along your bottom lip.
“How about… I show you?” and the offer is barely out of your mouth before Zoro is kissing you, his mouth seeking out yours with a soft groan that betrays all the lightness in his touch as he trails his free hand down your arm to pull hard at your waist.
And it’s not the first time you’ve kissed. It’s not even the first time a kiss with Zoro has become more than just a kiss, though you’d always been careful before to make sure that he knew (though thinking back, it might’ve just been an ill-fated attempt at lying to yourself) that the pleasure shared between bodies was just that — pleasure and bodies.
But this — this kiss becomes, and becomes.
It becomes breath and heartbeats, pleasure and heat. It becomes truth and promises and the tantalizing taste of fairy-tale endings.
“Z-Zoro…”
“Yes Princess?”
You hiss as his teeth grazes along your pulse point and your fingers fist in his hair.
“Y’know…” your voice comes out as nothing more than a soft pant as Zoro tugs you over to one of the reclining chairs beneath the orange trees and pulls you over his hips, “I’ve never liked being called that but…”
“But?” his thumbs inch beneath the material of your shirt, circling your hipbones as he smirks up at you.
“I don’t mind it when it’s you.”
Zoro’s grin goes wide and wolfish. Above him, the first stars spark into being as the sun finally sinks beyond the far horizon. For a second, his smile softens as he reaches up to toy with the end of the pale pink ribbon in your hair. Then, he gives it a single, solid tug, and your hair falls open around your shoulders, tumbling down in waves.
Zoro leans up to press a light kiss to the blood-stained satin before letting it flutter off in the wind, twisting into the rapidly darkening night.
“Good… cause I ain’t about to let anyone else call you that either.”
#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece live action#one piece scenarios#opla zoro#roronoa zoro#roronoa zoro x reader#roronoa zoro x you#x reader#opla#one piece netflix#opla zoro x reader#one piece live action x you#one piece live action x reader#roronoa zoro fluff#one piece fluff#roronoa zoro imagines#roronoa zoro scenarios#floofy floof floof#angst mcgee#scheduled post
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HEADCANONS — FLIRTY ACADEMIC RIVALS w/ CORIOLANUS SNOW
you're not sure when the rivalry started, but for as long as you could remember, you were always sat next to coriolanus snow in class, whether by assignment or choice. neither of you actually hated the other, it was more a friendly competition born out of your strong feelings for each other that neither of you trusted yourselves with, so you resorted to teasing and playful mockery.
both of you care very much about your academics, snow on his way to win the plinth prize, and you, eager to impress your parents and secure a job in the capitol. when you put two highly ambitious and motivated students next to each other, it was no wonder you were always top of your classes. some people called you the power couple, but you denied the latter half of that term.
"where's your little boyfriend?" sejanus had asked one day. "how many times do i have to tell you, he's not my boyfriend!" you responded. "tell me then, why haven't either of you dated anyone?"
the easy answer to that question, and the one you always resorted to was that you simply had no time for dating right now. never mind the fact that you've been using that excuse for your whole life.
corio, on the other hand, never denied the dating rumors. not because there was any truth to them, but more so to annoy you. "corio, did you tell professor crane we were going to formal together?" "yes, what's wrong?" he feigned innocence. "what's wrong? you told him we were going together! as in boyfriend girlfriend!" "i still don't see the issue."
most days, he drove you crazy. and he probably wasn't even aware of his affect on you. shoulders touching when reading a textbook together, quickly pulling away his hand when your fingers went to turn the page at the same time, pretending not to be flustered on the rare occasion he gave you a compliment.
other times, it was nice to have him sat by your side. for example, the nights when you stayed up late studying often led to you dozing off in class, leaning on corio's shoulder until he gently nudged you off, "hey, sleepyhead. what time did you go to sleep?" he would tease.
the best classes were the ones you took with a professor that you both mutually hated— you could hardly control your laughter when he whispered a remark in your ear, or the shivers that he sent down your spine from being in such close proximity to you.
one time, he found you hiding in a corner of the library after receiving a particularly bad grade on a test. you had abruptly left him in the hallway, claiming that you had an "important phone call" to take, but of course, he knew you well enough to know that something was wrong and you needed space. thirty minutes later, he was pulling you off the floor and taking you out to ice cream.
"my girl," he said, wiping off your tear-stained cheeks. "what can i do to make you feel better?" you had wanted to kiss him right then and there, to resolve the tension between you two once and for all, but you didn't want your first kiss to be under these circumstances.
life in the capitol was not as glamorous as everyone else made it out to be. you faced an immense pressure to perform well, uphold the reputation of your family, and be successful, and most of the time you felt alone and exhausted. but coriolanus was always there for you, when things were good, and especially when things got bad.
#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow imagine#the hunger games#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tom blyth#tom blyth x reader#coriolanus x reader
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Astro Notes - 016
Capricorn risings tend to have a lot of facial piercings or just look really good with them.
Venus in Aqua can be very aromatic with everyone until the minute they find THAT person and they do a complete 360. When they find the one they will be so faithful and romantic. People call them aloof and uninterested but they just know what they want and most won’t settle till they get that.
I’ve seen a lot of Mars in Pisces women that don’t believe in sleeping around. Most prefer to wait until they are in a relationship or married before giving that access.
Moon in Aquarius’s need to rationalize every emotion they experience and find out it’s roots when all they really need to do is cry it out. They try to find solutions to all their emotions which causes them get burn out fast. This is why it’s difficult for them to comfort others when they deal with deep emotions because they think they need to come up with a solution instead of comforting them. It’s okay to feel your emotions without making sense of them guys.
Pisces moons normally have period in their life where their mother was really distant from them or just completely absent. Ive seen a lot that their mothers could’ve picked substances over them or been in jail, or was just too immature to raise them at a certain point. A lot of Pisces moons grow up in a single mother household.
Capricorn moon/risings are normally the eldest child. And if not still took on a more responsible role in the family. Grew up around a lot of immature childish people
Sagittarius suns I feel like are way more rebellious than Aquarius’s. Sagittarius’s are so impulsive and get this big adrenaline rush from doing things they aren’t supposed to. Many rarely think about they consequences of what they’re doing which causes them to get into a lot more trouble. Especially as an adolescent.
If you have a Gemini rising people probably yelled at you as a child for talking to much or being too obnoxious
Virgo suns are either so good at communicating with others and fitting in or they are so socially anxious and awkward there’s no in between.
Venus in Libras will flirt with anybody who’s decent looking. They are not picky at all.
Neptune in the 7th house people can be very concerning in their relationships. Everytime they experience attraction it’s like they only try to see what’s good in that person even if they are absolute trash. They want love so bad but tend to just get in relationships because of that desire without actually getting to know who they are dating. This causes them to attract a lot of narcissists cuz they are willing to give out love so fast without seeing if it mutual.
Mars in the 5th house people 🤝 Rushing into relationships
Taurus risings look like forest nymphs they are so naturally beautiful
Venus conjunct mars people are so magnetic. They can have everyone’s heads turn the mintier they walk in a room. A lot of people have crushes on them.
Having a Lilith conjunct the ascendant in synastry usually shows an intense otherworldly connection that is most likely forbidden. You’ll feel like you finally found the perfect person until u figure out they are married with kids or your best friends partner. This connection is usually so strong that if one of the partners (or both) are in a relationship it can completely destroy their relationships. I’ve seen 20 year marriages end from this synastry. Known as the “home wrecker” placement.
Having your Lilith in Leo can show that you could’ve been treated as a wallflower growing up. People never really gave you much attention so you grew up thinking you weren’t meant to be loved and appreciated:( in this lifetime you are meant to break that and steal the spotlight
Having you North Node in the 7th house means that in a past life you probably were a loner or found it difficult to create bonds with others. Your opinionated personality pushed a lot of people away in a past life. In this life tho you are here to learn the art of compromise. You are here to build relationships whether it be family, friends or romantic relationships.
Pluto in the 11th house people im sorry for the amount of toxic friends you had to deal with☹️ I notice their friendships are usually really intense toward them the friends can become really jealous and possessive with them. Their friendships were closer to abusive partnerships than actual friendships. I’ve seen in some cases that their friends can act overly seductive with them as well which can be overwhelming & uncomfy. When these natives heal what attracts these folks however they can eventually gain some of the most trustworthy friends. These friends will help you climb the latter and normally have a lot of power. You can move mountains with the right group.
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"What A Beautiful Family!"
In which you get confused for being a family
Rengoku:
- It happens during a trip to the store in town with his little brother. Maybe it was to restock groceries or maybe it was buying supplies for his next demon conquest, either way: all three of you went down to visit.
- Rengoku smiled softly at you as he watched you with his little brother, holding his hand and laughing with Senjuro and occasionally lifting him up and spinning around.
- At some point during the walk, Senjuro pointed at some birds flying in the tree and begged Kyojuro for a closer look, which Kyojuro happily allowed him to do and put him on his shoulders with a big smile. You helped Senjuro steady himself and laughed at how precious the two looked.
- As Senjuro and Kyojuro debated about what kind of birds they were, you couldn't help but look at Kyojuro with nothing less than love in your eyes and a fond smile.
- "Aw, how precious!" a woman walking past with a basket filled with baked goods cooed at you three, "I'm glad even with demons terrorizing us, people can still have moments like this. Here, have some!"
- At first you tried to decline out of embarrassment but Kyojuro humbly took them and gave one to Kyojuro and handed a pastry to you. You were hesitant but then you took it and graciously thanked the lady, "but also, I feel bad for not paying for these, ma'am. Please, let me-"
- "Don't you worry about it. A beautiful family like you should enjoy a good snack on such a lovely day, especially since your husband's a hashira."
- Rengoku opened his mouth to let out a hearty "TASTY!" but stopped himself halfway when he heard that. You just stared at the lady in flustered shock as she bowed her head and walked away.
- You and Kyojuro shared a look with each other, Kyojuro giving you a nervous yet wide grin and you returned it. Both of your faces felt warm and you were barely able to hold eye contact with each other.
- "Haha, that lady thought you were (Y/n)'s husband! Isn't that funny, big brother?" and Rengoku's gaze softens as you become timid and look down at your feet, "Yes...I suppose it is, Kyojuro."
Tengen:
- You were walking with Tengen and his wives, happy to see him a bit more after his retirement, when you stumbled upon three neighboring children, who played too roughly and were crying their eyes out about it.
- You and Hinatsuru helped them while Suma tried not to cry with the two boys but offered to help and Makio awkwardly tried to calm them down. Tengen just squatted down and told them that it wasn't very flashy to cry, which made you and Hina elbow him.
- Instead of getting more upset, however, all three boys became excited and seemed to recgonize Tengen, asking him if he was the sound Hashira, which seemed to greatly inflate his ego as he said: "Yes but I am also the God of Festivals!"/ "WOW! REALLY!?"
- You and his wives exchanged glances knowing he wouldn't shut up. When they asked if he could tell him a story of the demons he fought, he tried to be all: "Oh, it might be too scary for you kids...BUT WHAT THE HECK- So I was in the Entertainment District which is filled with prost-"/ "UZUI."/ "IT'S IMPORTANT TO THE STORY."
- Anyways, after some censoring, each boy found a home in your lap, Suma's lap, and another sat on Hinatsuru's but leaned their head on Makio's arm. All of you entranced by Tengen's storytelling and prescence.
- "Haha, such an energetic father. Those boys are definetly gonna grow up strong!"/ "I wonder which of those women are his wife?"/ "From the way they're looking at him, all four, probably."
- Tengen's voice suddenly stopped, most likely because he heard what they said, but instead of correcting him, his eyes landed on you. You could feel Hina's, Suma's, and Makio's gaze on you as well and you felt timid...but not uncomfortable. His lips upturned into a smirk and you felt yourself trying to look at ANYWHERE but the attractive faces that were staring at you.
- "Well, what happened next!?" One of the boys demanded, impatient from the cliff hanger.
- "Huh- Oh, right! Anyways, this demon CAME OUT and he was UGLY. Absolutely hideous, like a monster that crawled from under your bed-"
- When the boys finally were called home, you all waved goodbye and parted ways. Leaving you alone with the retired Hashira and his wives, you didn't say anything but the energy felt different as Suma clung to your arm and Tengen walked closer to you, Makio's eyes would stray towards you but timidly look away when you caught her gaze as Hina wished this walk would last forever. Just the five of you.
#THIS WAS RUSHED BUT IT WAS IN MY DRAFTS FOR A WHILE.#HOPEFULLY YOU GUYS LIKE IT.#kny x reader#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer#uzui x reader#uzui wives#uzui tengen x reader#tengen uzui x reader#tengen x wives x reader#rengoku kyojuro#rengoku x reader#kyojuro rengoku x reader#kny x you
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Rise Characterizations
Last month I did an in-depth re-watch of rottmnt s1 to take some notes on writing the characters of rise from their perspective and such. Figured I'd share what I found, but I'm also posting this bc my docs have a nasty habit of blipping out of existence.
We'll start with Raph bc he's the oldest of course, but I'll post the others sep. bc this is gonna get long!!
Raph Character Notes
Language Habits:
Catchphrases: "like a boss", "smash"
Verbalizes his attacks such as "smash", "knuckle sandwich", "power smash jitsu", "tonfa power jitsu", "mystic punch jitsu"
Uses older song titles for surprised exclamations or in place of cursing, most notably "jumping jack flash!"
Uses aave/bae, For example: 'em instead of them, 'ey instead of they, 'cause instead of because, forgoes the g in ing words (going becomes goin')
Uses less and less grammar the more he's stressed, and his voice will come to a higher pitch
Will speak in a softer tone to his little brothers if he's concerned about hurting their feelings. Aka babying them
Mixes up both metaphors and idioms. Would be one to say how the turn tables unironically
Does say "hero" a lot, lost count, especially in phrases like "hero town"
Refers to his brothers as "boys" or "fellas"
Refers to Splinter as "pop(s)" most often
Refers to strangers he's directly talking to as "bubs" or "hoss"
Personality:
Protective of his family
Plays up the hero act/has a strong sense of duty and justice
Impatient, rushes in without a plan (pre-movie), doesn't finish books until the end, falls asleep during "boring movies"
Oblivious, doesn't read into things beyond surface level. Struggles with empathy when something is beyond his understanding, but is still very emotional
Center of responsibility for his brothers, but also has a reckless sense of fun. As long as it's him doing the stupid unsafe thing it's fine
Carries the weight, in a literal sense he piggy backs his brothers, but will also use his body as a shield from danger. Unfortunately this also means he takes his brothers a little less seriously (Mikey the most common victim), and will try and either protect them from everything or as an oldest sibling everything has go "his way"
Doesn't do well in solitude. Needs to be looking after people to feel functional, and needs to be around people to feel safe
Clumsy, "takes horrible pictures", isn't very good at hiding, he's a big guy so it probably took a lot of time to find balance
A sweet guy who still won't shy from making fun of his family. Leo tends to be the brunt of his teasing since he is the most annoying, but he will also poke Donnie on his dramatics
Likes cute things!!! Has a teddy bear collection and loves animals. It's so cool how this isn't played off as a joke and he's still just as masculine for liking pink and cutesy stuff
Likes fighting!!! Gets a lot of energy out defeating bad guys (where he directs his anger towards), the one who is shown to train the most, and also weight lifts in his spare time
Doesn't do well under pressure, here the anger comes out the most. He gets stressed when it's all on him, especially since he tends to mess up the most in these moments
Miscellaneous:
Second to unlock mystic powers
Nicknames/codenames: "raph-a-doodle" by leo, "red rover" by april, "red king" by donnie
Teddy bear names: Doctor Huggenstein, Captain Snuggles, Cheech
Stinks: fear stink, amazement stink, sneaking up on people stink, victory stink
Seems to be less afraid of rabbits and more afraid of puppets
Went on his first solo mission at 13
Cannot lift a bus, at age 15
Thought about discussing fighting style, but I'm not as familiar with that concept and I've seen a couple posts dissecting such topic. So we'll end here for now. Hope this was helpful!!! I'll post the rest of the boys later and link here
Leo is up!!
Donnie is up!!
Mikey is up!!
Splinter is up!!
April is up!!
Cassandra is up!!
#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise of the tmnt#rottmnt#rottmnt raph#rottmnt raphael#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#character analysis#long post#fanfic#writing#critter talks
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Cherry Red / Coriolanus Snow
summary : Snow had always harbored a liking for you, and your awareness of the platonic relationship with Sejanus only fueled his obsession, eventually culminating in decisions like appointing you as the First Lady of Panem. Just two pretty bestfriends both in awe by your beauty.
I apologize for any grammar errors as English is not my first language. Additionally, please refrain from copying my work without proper credit, as it may result in being flagged. Thank you!
How does one begin to describe this innocent youth, who simply wished for Panem to thrive in tranquility? Fate thrust him into the shadows of the reaping ceremony or the role of a mentor due to his father's actions. Despite being fully aware that survival in the Games was improbable, he, like many of his peers, managed to mask his fear, a skill he lacked. It was on that fateful day that he first laid eyes on you.
You served as his mentor, a role you assumed without the same coercion he experienced. Unlike him, you had the choice to either be a mentor or a regular student at the Academy. Yet, recognizing that being among the select few who would secure a favorable position in the university and potentially pave the way for a brighter future for your family, you saw it as the least profitable option you could contribute. Even if it meant overseeing the fate of a stranger, your assigned tribute, in a perilous game of cat and mouse.
During the inaugural week of the Games, you found yourself alongside Sejanus as you met your assigned tributes. Despite Sejanus displaying a sense of conscience regarding the circumstances and grappling with the notion of witnessing another species confined in a cage, he observed closely as you tended to your tribute. From that pivotal moment onward, each day saw him adopting a similar approach—nurturing his tribute, attending to their well-being, and primarily focusing on their strengths, all while harboring his internal opposition to the entire ordeal.
You were the one who comforted him in the aftermath of the accident following the memorial for Arachne. While he was paying tribute to his deceased classmate, Snow instructed you to remove Sejanus from the scene. He, too, attempted to cling to her in a desperate effort to preserve her life, but it was already too late. With your guidance, advising Sejanus to shift his focus away from the crime scene, he found solace when you encouraged him to breathe and exhale. You assured him that everything would be okay.
After that initial encounter with him, he underwent a profound transformation, growing closer to you. Your attentive check-ins during rehearsals, reminiscent of his mother's caring presence, played a significant role in this connection. Even stolen glances in class became a source of solace for him, helping maintain his sanity amidst the chaos of the Hunger Games, a veritable freak show.
You were well aware of his strong opposition to the idea. Despite enduring his complaints, you consistently reassured him that the popularity was just a temporary phase until graduation, and the Capitol would soon move on and forget. However, it turns out you were terribly mistaken. Despite the misjudgment, you believed it was the best you could do at the time.
Fortunately, your relationship gradually deepened over time, even though you hadn't experienced the concept of falling in love. In a world where survival was commonplace in Panem, the notion of allowing oneself to fall in love seemed as ironic as it was rare. Despite attempting to suppress any burgeoning emotions for Sejanus, his softened gaze upon seeing you and the way he spoke your name with such warmth made it increasingly challenging. This, in turn, fueled suspicion from his friend Snow, who seemed to resent him more, suspecting Sejanus's potential feelings for you. Eventually, it became inevitable that you acknowledged and accepted your emotions toward Sejanus, whether they remained platonic or evolved into something more; the signs were undeniably clear. And Snow hated every bit of it.
Certainly, rumors circulated throughout the Academy, fueled by the idea that someone as intelligent as you could outsmart even the wealthiest family, such as the Plinth. However, it wasn't until a few days before the commencement of the 10th Hunger Games that the scrutiny from your classmates' watchful eyes compelled you to hide your relationship in shame. You outgrew the stares, until finally implied official a mark to the relationship, all by holding Sejanus's hand with pride. The poor boy, initially taken aback by your sudden display of affection, was well aware of your usual reluctance towards public displays of emotion. Despite this, he began to grasp that your actions spoke of genuine love. It became increasingly evident that the sentiment was more than mutual.
The aftermath of the Hunger Games told a different tale. Sejanus's emotional breakdown during the games hinted that his involvement was driven by a sense of altruism. However, many of your classmates, including yourself, emerged from the ordeal seemingly unscathed. It was as if you all were like minions, compliant in a sick and twisted game, a game where refusal meant facing death the very next day. The turning point came when you witnessed Sejanus screaming helplessly, condemning the Capitol as "sick monsters." His tear-filled eyes and desperate plea were a stark warning. You felt his gaze fixed on you, but this time, it carried a profound sense of hatred—a gaze that lingered ever since that fateful day. In Sejanus's eyes, you had become a monster, and he was painfully right.
When Lucy Gray Baird was declared the victor of the 10th Hunger Games, Snow couldn't help but notice the shift in the dynamics of the relationship you had once shared with Sejanus. Despite his previous disdain for Sejanus, Snow's animosity towards his District 2 classmate intensified as he observed the unwavering focus of your eyes on him. You managed to hold back your tears, unlike Sejanus, burst into a complete symphony of a manic episode. Snow recognized that upon his return as a Peacekeeper, that he would make it his priority to take care of you. To Sejanus’s request if he didn’t make it out.
Sejanus was acutely aware of his impending fate, discerning the emotions in your eyes as you fought to contain your tears—an act you were often admonished for in the harsh realms of reality and sorrow. A palpable distance had grown between you, and he acknowledged that he deserved every bit of it. However, when the news broke that he, too, was joining the Peacekeepers, you couldn't resist bidding him a final farewell. As the departure approached, Snow spotted you, witnessing the emotional exchange with his own eyes.
He observed you shedding tears for another man, a sight that must have stung his pride. Despite the limited display of affection, there were undeniable traces of your past love for Sejanus. "I'll be a good boy." Sejanus would assure, and as you cupped his face, a rare moment of genuine closeness enveloped you. It was one of the first times you truly felt connected to him, and you yearned to grant him a farewell kiss, recognizing that this might be the last time you'd see him. "I'll keep your picture close with me... Even if you hate me so—" Sejanus began, but you swiftly cut him off, desperately emphasizing that any perceived hatred was rooted in self-centeredness. "I never hated you, Sejanus. Remember that."
"I will." Came Sejanus's response without a hint of hesitation, and just before he departed, he sought a final taste of your lips. This act served as the last straw for Snow, tempting him to announce that it was time for duty, that he too would soon be called to fulfill his responsibilities. However, he resisted the urge. Instead, he chose to observe what it felt like to be genuinely in love, watching the two lovebirds share their final goodbyes. Though deeply haunted by the realization that Snow wasn't your sole choice, the haunting thoughts accompanied him throughout the journey back to District 12. Snow yearned to make Sejanus prove to whom you truly belonged, finding some solace in the benefits of the situation—until Sejanus's impending death sentence, that is.
You received word of Sejanus's death while in the Capitol. On that particular day, you joined Sejanus's mother for dinner, a comforting routine that helped alleviate the absence of her son, engaged in his duties away. Despite her earlier tendency to downplay her husband's concerns for their child, she now comprehended the profound emotions you were experiencing mere weeks after Sejanus's departure. It was a moment of revelation for her when she looked into the eyes of her own child, realizing that her husband had been the true villain all along.
Later that same evening, you started clearing the table when you heard the official news. A Panem Peacekeeper had arrived at your apartment. For some inexplicable reason, an ominous feeling gripped you, signaling that something had happened to Sejanus. Questions swirled in your mind—was he injured, or had homesickness prompted his return? However, any hopeful optimism quickly turned to tears as Sejanus's mother's anguished scream echoed in your thoughts. The heartbreaking truth emerged: Sejanus had passed away. The official explanation cited him as a simple rebel, but you suspected a much darker reality. Sejanus wasn't merely a rebel; he was someone the Capitol despised, refusing any association with their ideologies.
The Plinth family arranged a formal funeral for their son, and while you had hoped for an invitation, you only learned about it through consequential rumors. Thanks to Tigris, who had the opportunity to style Sejanus's mother for her new job as a stylist, you were surprised to discover the disgraceful rumors circulating about your family. It was suggested that you had manipulated Sejanus to bend to your will, driven by your ambitions in the Games and an unbridled willingness to perpetuate a sick and twisted narrative for another year.
According to this narrative, you were deemed no different from the rest—a citizen with psychotic tendencies, adorned in the veneer of fake affluence. These rumors reached Snow as he returned calls to Tigris back home, he wanted some update about you. Know how you were doing, as Tigris before hand had your confirmation that she would tell what had happened. Which provided a simple yet substantial reasons for his disdain towards the Plinth family from the very beginning, not only due to their subjective opinions but also their newfound hatred towards you.
Upon returning to his role as a Peacekeeper, Snow found greater delight in seeing you. As you had gradually gained acceptance to the university yourself, securing a personal apartment became a challenging endeavor. The recent imposition of a new tax by the Plinth family added to the financial strain, making it doubly difficult to cover your university expenses. Fortunately, Tigris stepped in to assist, swiftly helping you secure a job. A renowned cabaret in the Capitol was in need of entertainers, and although hesitant to showcase your body for money, you recognized it as a necessary option. Fortunately, your employer treated the dancers well, and as long as you were able to pay your bills, he harbored no objections. Over time, you even developed a group of favorite regular customers.
The streets of the Capitol had changed since his arrival. Not only had his hair grown, but wearing his father's wealth, symbolized by a stupid coat, had also demonstrated a newfound influence. Snow made sure to flaunt this affluence. The prospect of returning to the university and seeing you again mattered most to him. However, it wasn't until that particular evening when he decided to stop by your apartment that he noticed your absence. Puzzled, he thought to himself, as it was typically your time to prepare dinner or watch local television. Surveying the surroundings for any clue to your whereabouts, he recalled that his cousin Tigris had briefly mentioned something about you being the talk of the town lately. This revelation prompted Snow to consider searching the deeper and less savory streets of Panem for answers.
It didn't take him long; as soon as the sun set and the lights of Panem's stores illuminated the streets, he spotted a poster. There, your face stared back at him, unmistakably you. "Cherry Red this afternoon! 9 PM!" Proclaimed the bold red and gold font, showcasing your entire body. Snow couldn't believe it—let alone fathom the idea of other men being captivated by you. Nevertheless, he entered.
True to the promise, only the least affluent men in Panem and fellow Peacekeepers populated the bar. It being a Friday evening meant people were there to unwind and prepare for the weekend. Snow found himself struck by the stark contrast between his own downfall and the impoverished part of the Capitol. Despite the surroundings, he couldn't help but marvel at the luxury and lifelike atmosphere of the cabaret. Soon, other dancers spotted him, offering drinks or suggesting a little show, but he declined, asserting that he was there only for you, using your stage name, Cherry Red.
Fortunately, he arrived just in time for your performance. With a man who wore outfits reminiscent of Flickerman noticed Snow's arrival, sporting a somewhat absurd demeanor. Cheeks flushed, a clear sign of pre-show indulgence, he exclaimed each word of your name with awe and pride. "Ladies and Gentlemen! Tonight, we have someone we love so much right here at Pub Rouge. It is none other than our favorite, Cherry Red!"
Snow uncomfortably fell in line with the predominantly male clientele. Hearing "Ladies and Gentlemen." Was just one of the few flaws in the cabaret that he would have corrected if given the chance. To avoid arousing suspicions, he simply followed along, clapping like everyone else. However, rather than voicing your name in a distasteful manner, Snow quietly waited for your performance.
The room filled with the vibrant sounds of the band and trumpets as you gracefully took the stage. Your outfit perfectly mirrored your name—bold and red as cherries. For those observant enough, it seemed as if Snow intentionally coordinated his attire to match yours. You immersed yourself in the character, embodying the woman you intended to be. The men of your age exhibited a mix of pride and envy, further boosting your confidence. Your playful interactions, especially teasing one of the Peacekeepers, earned you considerable admiration, much to Snow's chagrin. He overheard some background chatter about you, with phrases like. "I'd be with her anytime. Have you seen her curves? If I were the lucky guy, I'd do everything to show her who she belongs to."
That fueled Snow with an intense anger, a boiling rage that churned within him. Fortunately, he managed to contain himself, sitting just far enough away to avoid you spotting him in the moment. However, his composure shattered when another voice crossed the line. "With that beautiful pair of lips, I bet she'd be a nice little whore and can take my big ass dick!" Laughter erupted, and though you were accustomed to such comments in the typically crowded environment, Snow, unable to restrain himself, swiftly delivered a punch to the man's face. Snow had completely lost his composure. As the scuffle continued, with the brawl escalating to a level one out of five, you were being escorted away. It was then that you noticed Snow's figure amidst the chaos.
"Coryo..." You murmured softly, as one of your colleagues attempted to escort you backstage. You complied with the act and tried to move, but upon catching his gaze after you called out his name, it took only seconds for Snow to be brought in, obliging even to be outside the hub before long. As he was pushed outside, one of the onlookers cursed under his breath. "Well, I'll be damned! If I see that guy again, he'll surely get a punch from me!" With his friends trying to calm the angered Peacekeeper down, he observed as you were escorted back, remarking, "I sense that someone had a little vulnerability over Cherry's presence."
Snow hadn't left entirely. In fact, he made sure to stay until the bar was ready to close. As he observed the group of Peacekeepers, memories of his own time in that role surfaced. They reminded him of the Peacekeepers in the Districts—little pieces of trouble, he'd openly declare if given the chance. Fortunately, you didn't have any bruises; in fact, you were so distraught that your colleague helped clean your makeup and took care of you. "My god, Y/N. What could've possibly happened there if you had intervened?" She questioned. Even you hated the fact that she was right; who knew what might have occurred if you had tried to break up the fight and ended up taking the punch meant for the Peacekeeper. You were well aware that Snow wouldn't easily excuse himself after this incident.
By patiently waiting at the backdoor of the cabaret, he caught sight of another escort he had noticed earlier, who swiftly disappeared inside. He wasn't trespassing; rather, he was trying to reunite with you. Explanations could wait; for now, he wanted you all to himself, to taste your lips and be the one to incite jealousy among the Peacekeepers. Skillfully, he found his way backstage, drawing uncertain glances from ladies younger than you. They hesitated, contemplating whether to alert their boss about the intruder. It wasn't until he spotted you from a distance that even your colleague, who had taken care of you, noticed his presence enough to understand that it was her cue. “I’ll see you later, darlin’.” She said with her typical southern accent, and as soon as she was about to leave stop herself next to Snow. “Sir.” And bowed before leaving.
On the other hand, you hastily adjusted your robe to cover your skin. Quickly, you applied the remaining red lipstick, swiftly cleaning the messy edges, assuming it was your boss's presence prompting the need for an explanation or reassurance that you were okay. However, as soon as you turned your head to see who it truly was, your eyes widened in shock. It felt almost too surreal, as if you had seen a ghost. "Coryo?" was all you could say.
How he had missed you calling him by his nickname. Even though you had been in a relationship with Sejanus before, it was all thanks to being close to Tigris that you adopted the habit of using his nickname, something he cherished every time it left your lips. Particularly because none of his classmates, let alone his closest friends, used it. "What is this?" He questioned, his eyes scanning everything—from the booth to you, with a hint of disgust, shame. "Why didn't you tell me—" He felt a sense of sorrow, realizing he hadn't provided you with enough wealth, let alone a clean lifestyle. Tonight, he vowed to make a change soon.
"Blame the Plinth." You uttered, attempting to push aside memories of Sejanus and your first love, concealing them as best as you could. Snow couldn't help but let out a light chuckle at the irony, recognizing that he, too, intended to make them pay for it all—every little bit. And in this endeavor, he envisioned you by his side. "I've missed you, you know." You continued, and to Snow's relief, he admitted the same. Perhaps, just maybe, a little too much.
"You have no idea how much I missed you too, sweetheart." He expressed, closing the distance between you. He kneeled, and even his piercing blue eyes softened as he lifted his gaze to meet yours. His finger gently traced your blushed cheek, the heavy makeup unable to conceal your undying beauty. "How about we go home? Together."
"Home?" You tilted your head slightly, doing your best to restrain your tears at his request. Despite the history of your relationship—from being a stranger to a friend and now a soulmate. "How—?" He nervously gulped, appearing confident in his words yet afraid to witness you in that emotional state. A state where money and selling your body didn't align with the image he wanted to see. "Because I'll do my best to take care of you." He assured, keeping his words simple yet sincere.
"Home. A place to finally be yourself. No trouble, no feeling of doubt within your own self." And with that, you simply dissolved into tears, nodding in response to his confession. "Please," You begged, yearning for him, longing to feel his lips like you did with Sejanus back in the days. But this time, it felt genuinely true. Was this what true love really felt like? "Kiss me." There was no hesitation as Snow's lips instantly met yours in a hungry and passionate kiss, an expression of love since the very beginning.
And in that very moment, Snow realized all too well that you had become his Lady. Not any kind of lady but the First Lady of Panem.
Y/N, Snow.
#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow#coriolanus x reader#the hunger games#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the hunger games x y/n#president snow x reader#coryo#hunger games x reader#coriolanus x you#coriolanus imagines#coriolanus snow imagines#hunger games imagines#sejanus plinth#sejanus x reader
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Monsters: Mikey Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa
Chapter 3: The Lesser of Two Devils
Pairing: Mikey Sano x Fem Reader x Izana Kurokawa
series summary: your grievous sin was emma standing up for you to her brothers. and now you’re going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.
chapter summary: the two brothers realize that peace with emma is within their grasp, they just need your cooperation
chapter warning: dark content, 18+ nsfw, character x character smut - cunnilingnus, struggling with sexual attraction, angst, mention of assault, physical violence, slut shaming, misogyny, intrusive/dark impulsive thoughts of murder and rape, manipulation, gaslighting, objectification of reader, mental health struggles, masking, breaking and entering, smut -character x reader, reader is threatened with r*pe, dubious consent, coercion, making out, dry humping, cunnilingus (reader receiving), pussy job, terrible aftercare, religious themes and guilt, panty stealing.
wc: 12.3k
masterlist||chapter 2||chapter 4
“NGH, K-ken -more please-”
There is nothing more divine to Emma than what Draken was doing to her right now.
It was supposed to be a normal morning after a wild night. She had told Ken last night, after round five, going to round six that she had a test tomorrow, one she absolutely could not miss and he had promised her no shenanigans.
Unfortunately, Ken is not one to keep those kind of promises. She’s not sure why he decided to be touchy today; maybe it was the two weeks of no contact until you pushed her into accepting Draken’s proposal for a date night.
Whatever it was, it got the man in such a rut that he couldn’t help himself but to eat her out.
Her legs spread out wide on either side of Ken, his head buried in between her thighs, lips latched onto her clit, his tongue licking circles. Yellow eyes cast down to Draken, her hand gripping his long blond hair, forcing him to stay put.
Emma knew there was no need for that. Ken is her good boy and she is his good girl. They would do anything to keep each other happy, even if it breaks either of them.
She can’t help but let out soft moans at the gentleness of his tongue, the way his large fingers rubbed the sides of her waist to keep her grounded, occasionally rolling his tongue to her hole, before trailing back up to her clit. The girl felt her back lift from the bed, arching in a perfect circle, her heels digging into the bed. Ken hums into her pussy, sending vibrations onto her clit and a wave of electricity down her spine.
“Ken, fuck more-” she gasped, feeling his long tongue swipe up her clit, his mouth engulfed around her pussy. “Oh yesyesyes- ah”
Emma felt like she was in cloud nine, so high with bliss underneath Draken’s touch. Whenever she was with him, all her problems disappeared for a moment and everything felt so, so good. She didn’t have to think about university or lecturers sucking up to her because of her eldest brother, she didn’t have to think about Mikey and Izana bothering her or their actions or anything.
She didn’t have to think about you.
You with your soft gaze, laughing gently at whatever joke she might have told you -it wasn’t that funny and yet Emma found herself smiling along with you. Your smile, so beautiful when genuine it reflects in your eyes. Your warm skin that she looks for any excuse to touch, to feel you. The way you looked at her shocked when she showed you the knowledge she retained from Taekwondo, underneath her sweaty body, your chest rising and falling.
‘No! shit. I’m not meant to do this now. Not again’ She panicked, trying to focus on Draken’s ministrations again.
But her thoughts kept drifting back to you. Emma’s strong hands securing your thighs, pushing you down to her face until you're on top, her tongue working on your clit and hole while Draken eats her out as well.
It was too late, the mere thought sent a wave of electricity to her clit, combined with Draken’s touch.
Her two favorite people, sandwiched between them. You’re more innocent, unskilled and Emma is willing to let both her and Draken pamper you, his large hands cupping your breast as he fucks into her while you grind on her face. Or you on the bed, Emma watching Draken fuck you stupid while she touches herself to the thought.
‘C-can’t help it.’ She relishes in his touch and her imaginations, now switching to just you and her, your bodies pressed together as she rubs her clit on yours, gently kissing you. ‘I want you (name), I want you I want you-’
Emma cried out as she orgasmed hard, white filling her vision. Draken’s tongue worked her through the feeling, letting her grind on his face as she rode it out until she couldn’t, falling flat on her back on the pillows.
She tried to catch her breath the moment it was over, mulling over the feeling of post euphoric bliss. Draken crawled from between her legs and laid on top of her, lowering his lips to hers in an open mouthed kiss. She hummed, relishing her taste on his tongue secretly wishing it was yours too.
The man pulled away, resting his forehead on hers, just staying in silence with her as he usually did after a session. A pang of post nut guilt hit her for thinking about you like that. It felt so wrong and disrespectful, especially knowing how well you trusted her and how she cherishes you so much. You’re her friend, she’s not supposed to imagine you in such vulnerable positions, not when you probably wouldn’t be comfortable with such thoughts and not when she is in bed with someone else.
Not when you might not have feelings beyond friendship.
She didn't realize her face was scrunched up in a frown until Draken traced a large palm to her face and pressed his finger between her brows, rubbing circles in the space. “Stop frowning, you’ll get wrinkles.” He joked, trying to lighten the mood. “At least that’s what you told me.”
She rolled her eyes in response, swatting his hand away as she shoved her guilt at the furthest corner of her mind. “It’s a stupid myth I told you so that you stop scaring my other friends that don’t know you. And there’s nothing wrong with wrinkles.”
He smiled mischievously, the kind that Emma was used to when he was about to push her buttons like always. “So what’s with all the beauty products?”
“Get off my case Ken.” she hissed at him, but there was no malicious intent behind her tone. “Besides you and Mikey steal my very expensive products any time either of you come here. Buy your own shit.”
“You steal the fries off my plate, too.”
“The fries are 5 dollars, Ken, you’ll live.”
Draken opened his mouth to retort when her phone rang throughout the room, interrupting whatever playful argument they were having. Emma smirked, silently claiming victory by default as she rolled off the bed -nude and walked over to her phone on the reading table, picking it up.
‘(Name)?’
That didn’t sound right. You never called her this early in the morning, stating that you prefered silence until at least nine am. No matter how hard Emma tried indoctrinating you to work out with her by six am, you were never a morning person, oftentimes falling asleep on the treadmill. It was rare to see you call in the morning and those were usually emergencies.
Emma picked up her phone with trembling hands, and an unfamiliar wave of fear settled in her gut. The last time she got a call that made her so nervous, Keisuke Baji was badly injured to the point he nearly lost his life.
‘No.’ Emma whispered to herself convincingly, steeling her resolve. ‘Maybe it’s an emergency wardrobe malfunction or she needs my laptop.’ her finger hovered on the answer button, gut feeling getting worse as she slid the green phone icon upwards. ‘It’s just something minor. Something minor-’
“hey-”
“Are you Emma Sano?” An unfamiliar masculine voice instead of yours responded, making Emma’s heart sink even further into her belly, already assuming the worst. “Y-yes. Is there a problem?”
“Yes. (Name) (last name) was assaulted last night. She is currently in the intensive care unit receiving treatment at hospital.”
The moment those words hit Emma, she felt incredibly ill to her stomach. It was as if the earth stopped spinning, time freezing her in place as she realized what had happened to you. She could picture it; you all alone, left to die some place possibly crying for her while she was having fun with Draken. Bile filled her throat but Emma quickly swallowed it down, grimacing at the taste -throwing up wasn’t going to help you now, she needed to find you and see if you were okay.
“Hello? Ms. Sano?”
Emma steeled her resolve, taking in a deep breath before continuing, her voice threatening to break. “Yes. I’ll be right there soon. Thank you.”
Emma discarded the phone on the table as soon as the call ended, moving towards the wardrobe in quick strides without another word like a robot. Draken raised a brow in confusion at her sudden mood shift, pushing the sheets off his limbs and started walking up to her. “Em? What happened?” He asked “who called?”
“(Name) is in the hospital. Dress up, you’re taking me there.”
MIKEY hated morning classes.
The professor had been droning on about DNA profiling for the past two hours and the blond had already lost any form of interest he might have had the first thirty minutes of the class. At times like these, he’s thankful that he was only in university just to have a backup for whatever business he was going to venture in and felt pity for whoever this was their only choice.
Nothing of any significance has happened since that day in his car. You vehemently avoided him when he tried approaching Emma- which irritated him because he felt your actions are uncalled for. Izana hadn’t taken him seriously when he made the connection between you and Emma, so there was no need to pursue you any further, for now. He had asked Makoto to keep tabs on you for him, in case Izana eventually changes his mind, which Mikey knows he will do after Emma ignores him once again.
And just, for keeping tabs sake.
It wasn’t like he replayed the scene in his mind when he touched himself, thinking about how good you would feel around his cock instead of his fingers. Or that he scrolled through Emma’s instagram with his secret account and went through the photos you appeared in, admiring your smile, your pretty face and sometimes exposed thighs.
Maybe he had judged you too harshly based on his own assumptions. Hakkai had told them about your past in high school; how you were the topic of discussion in the boys locker room. They had all made a bet that Hakkai was roped into to show that he wasn’t weak- to get you to lose your virginity to either one of them in your class.
And eventually, one boy claimed he did it. Saying you even slept with the entire lacrosse team -which he was a part of- and showed them what they assumed to be your panties as proof.
Mikey conveniently left out the part that Hakkai had said was just a rumor that nearly ruined your life when telling everyone else the story.
“Alright, class dismissed! I have your tests graded and I will be sending them to you via email-”
“Thank goodness, it’s finally over” Mikey groaned, pushing himself out of his chair and rushing towards the door along with other students eager to leave. It wasn’t like he didn’t care about his studies - he was far more careful about his grades here than in high school; but it didn’t mean that he had as much patience to sit through an entire lecture without zoning out.
His stomach growled, bringing him back to reality. Since there wasn’t another class until 1pm, Mikey decided to take a well-deserved break and get food from outside the campus. He contemplated on asking Haruchiyo to do it for him, noting how his childhood friend was so obsessed with doing anything for a silver of his attention, but ultimately decided against it. Haruchiyo’s constant fawning usually was nice but it gets very suffocating pretty fast-
“Mikey! MIKEY YOU FUCKING BASTARD!”
Mikey paused in his tracks, turning his head around to see Draken storming towards him, face red and teeth gritted so hard that any more force would chip the edges. Confused, the blonde haired male tried to think of what he could have done that would have caused his best friend to be so furious, he’s causing a scene instead of settling it behind doors as usual.
Sure, they’ve been at each other’s throats because Ken thought that Mikey should have apologized for being disrespectful towards you that night, but that was it.
Nothing came to mind. What the hell was going on?
“Ken-chin calm down-”
Before Mikey could even finish speaking, Draken’s fist made its way to his jaw, the force pushing him to the ground entirely. Mikey didn’t even get a chance to defend himself as more barrages of heavy blows rained down on his eye, his nose, his lips, his cheeks and any part of his body from an angry Ken.
“YOU FUCKING BASTARD! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? DO YOU LOVE BREAKING YOUR SISTER’S HEART SO MUCH? DO YOU LOVE MAKING EMMA CRY?”
Each of his words was articulated by his heavy blows, until Mikey could barely feel his face. Any time Mikey attempted to say anything, he received a heavier blow on his mouth.
Essentially telling Mikey to shut up.
A number of hands yanked Draken away from Mikey soon after, trying to hold him back from hitting the blonde again. “FUCK OFF! DAMMIT I NEED TO KNOCK SENSE INTO THAT IDIOT!” Draken yelled, struggling against his friend's grip, wanting to lunge at him at any point in time. “DOES HE KNOW THE DAMAGE HE HAS CAUSED?”
The blond laid on the floor, in pain, shocked and clearly confused on what was happening right now. Ken had only beaten him this hard when Emma had almost gotten hurt because of him and Mikey swore to himself never to put his sister in that kind of situation ever again.
‘Emma … shit is Emma hurt?’
A sense of dread ran down Mikey’s spine. Did something happen to his sister? Is she hurt? in danger? In pain? A lump formed in his throat as his imaginations began to run wild, thinking up scenarios where Emma was hurt, lying in a hospital bed in a hospital.
Picking himself up from the floor until he could stand on his two feet, Mikey turned around to face his dark haired friend that was held back by Mitsuya and Baji. “Can anyone tell me what the fuck is going on?” Mikey started, ignoring the pain spreading throughout his face as he looked at the other two males, also staring back at him, shocked. “Keisuke? Mitsuya?”
“We don’t know-” Mitsuya began, keeping his grip tight on Draken. “He went to Tenjiku’s frat house first, screaming for Izana but then left when they didn’t answer the door. Then he came to Toman’s looking for you. I tried to calm him down but he stormed off-”
“DON’T GIVE HIM AN EXCUSE TO ACT DUMB!” Ken roared, cutting Mitsuya short. “YOU AND YOUR SHITTY BROTHER KNOW WHAT YOU DID TO (NAME).”
‘(name)? Was she with Emma when Draken came to pick her up?’ Mikey mused to himself, in an attempt to piece the entire story together. ‘Don’t tell me she ran her mouth about that day in the car and gave Draken the wrong impression that I hurt her.’
“What the hell are you talking about?” Mikey roared back, his temper also getting the better of him. If this was the reason that Ken was mad at him, he was going to beat his friend twice as hard and then find you to teach you a lesson. Classes be damned. “I haven’t done anything to that skank that warranted this behavior.”
“OH YOU’RE STILL CALLING HER A SKANK?” Draken screamed back, nearly furious. If not for Mucho joining to hold him back, he would have jumped at Mikey again. “YOU HAVE THE GUTS TO CALL HER THAT AFTER PUTTING HER IN A HOSPITAL? HUH?”
“Hospital?” Now Mikey was sure that whatever Draken was mad about was clearly displaced aggression because he hadn’t done ANYTHING to you to the point you would go to a hospital. “What do you mean hospital?”
“God Mikey, stop fucking pretending.” Draken sneered at his friend. “Who did you tell to do it? Huh? Did you tell Kisaki to get someone for you like you alway do? Or you just decided to take care of it yourself this time?”
“Ken-chin I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mikey was at a loss for words at this point, the pain long forgotten as he tried to prove his innocence. “I didn’t do anything to (name). I haven’t even spoken to her since last week.”
The sincerity in Mikey’s voice was enough to calm Draken down, his shoulders visibly deflating in his friend’s grip, chest heaving with each breath the tall male took. “You… you have no idea what happened?” The blonde haired male asked between labored breaths, his brow furrowed in confusion. “You didn’t know?”
“Ken-chin,” Mikey started, in between irritated at being attacked and curious as to why. “fuck if I know what happened to her. Why don’t you tell me?”
Understanding that Draken wasn’t going to attack Mikey anymore, both Keisuke and Takashi released him, letting Draken’s bloody knuckles fall at his sides. Draken didn’t look up from the ground, his fist tightly clenched at his sides. “I know you don’t care.” He rasped, his voice strained from all the yelling. “but that innocent girl was violently assaulted last night and now she’s in the ICU.”
Mikey’s outward expression remained neutral. It wasn’t surprising, considering that he never once cared about you and made that clear to everyone who tried to tell him to apologize to you.
“Emma has blamed herself for putting (name) in harm’s way.” Draken murmured, his fists tightening in response to Mikey’s nonchalant look. Of course he didn’t care but couldn’t he pretend to be concerned at least? “Even if neither you nor Izana are involved, it still doesn’t rule out the fact that you both made her to be a public enemy! Do you know how many people would hurt her just to get in your good books? To get into Toman or Tenjiku?” his voice began to rise again, scolding his friend. “You both robbed her of any support system she could ever have in this school because what? Emma became her friend?”
When Mikey didn’t respond, Draken kissed his teeth. “Of course you don’t care.” He spat out. “It doesn’t even bother you at all. And I’m sure that devil of an older brother would be cackling at the news…”
“Draken, calm down, please-” Takashi tried to reason with him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s not say things we will regret later and focus on the person hurt-”
“Forget it.” He hissed, gently pushing Takashi’s hand off his shoulder and started to leave. “I’m going to stay with Emma and check if (name) is stable.” He took a few steps before turning to look at Mikey with a cold expression. “I can’t believe you’re the same guy I call my best friend.”
Mikey watched Draken walk away, his expression neutral. Takashi was the first to follow after, talking about how he should at least treat his knuckles first. Keisuke and him made eye contact, disappointment evident in his dark haired friend’s eyes before he turned around to leave, not opting to tell Mikey anything at all.
They never saw his knuckles whitening from how hard his grip was.
Or the blood dripping down from Mikey’s clenched fists.
‘Izana’
“WOAH, what happened to your face?”
It took everything in Mikey to hold back from decking Shion in the face.
The thoughts swarming in his head screamed murder, over and over again, calling to him. He knew that Shion had nothing to do with whatever happened to you - going by his own injured face and swollen eye, Shion is a victim of Izana as well.
He didn’t want to feel this. To hear his own thoughts curse at him, call him horrible names like ‘woman beater’ and ‘heartless’. He hated that even his own head turned against him once again, triggering something so evil and vile in his heart that made him want to see someone bleed out.
He had tried to fight it. The violent nature inside him. He tried to squash it with anything -meditating, drugs, giving into his depraved sexual urges. All that and still, one singular thing could ruin everything he had built.
And it was always Izana.
“Move.”
Shion was about to say something snarky in response, but quickly shut up the moment he noticed how dead Mikey’s expression looked and stepped aside for Mikey to enter into the fraternity house. Rindou raised a brow at Mikey’s presence, looking up from his video game to ask him what he was doing here. Only for him to swiftly turn his attention back to the game, as if he had seen a ghost.
“W-what the fuck” Rindou whispered to himself. “Holy shit he looks pissed.”
Mikey quietly made his way upstairs to Izana’s room, before forcing the door wide open with a loud bang. Izana -fully clothed- doesn’t even flinch at his presence, despite the naked blonde haired girl kneeling in front of him, mid-fingering herself, screaming in surprise, before covering her top half with her hands.
‘(name)’s roommate. Of course.’ Mikey put two and two together. ‘Always willing to sell her out for dick just like last time.’
“You” Mikey snapped at her. “Get out”
“Y-you can’t talk to me like that!” She shouted back at him before turning to Izana with doe eyes. “Baby, tell him to get out-”
She didn’t even get to finish as Izana threw her clothes at her face, before barking at her. “Are you hard of hearing? Get out before I throw you out myself.”
A sob escaped her lips as she quickly shrugged on her dress and ran out. Izana looked back at Mikey, a knowing smile gracing his lips at his younger brother’s obviously furious face.
“Judging by how you’re looking at me, you’ve seen the little present I left Emma.”
Mikey hadn’t realized when he jumped on top his brother and started exchanging blows with him. Izana doesn’t hold back either, wrestling Mikey off the bed to the ground, swinging twice as hard.
“Oh come on,” Izana yelled, articulating his words with brutal blows to Mikey’s jaw and face. “What are you angry about? She’s still alive isn’t she?”
All Mikey saw was red as he head butted his elder brother on his nose, destabilizing him before throwing Izana on the wall pinning him in place as he hit his abdomen repeatedly. “I told you not to do anything stupid.” His voice didn’t change inflection as he switched his direction to Izana’s cheek. “Why the fuck don’t you ever listen to me?”
The older male blocked the last fist aimed at his face and kneed his brother in his stomach, before kicking him to the floor. A psychotic grin made its way to Izana’s face, like the painful blows were nothing to him. “Oh come on, don’t tell me you feel-” he kicked Mikey in the face, making the blond tumble across the floor. “-bad for the little slut now? Are you in looooveee with her?”
Izana’s mockery only fuelled Mikey’s anger, making him push himself off the ground and kick his brother violently in his face. The white haired man fell straight to the ground, howling with laughter at Mikey’s outburst as the blonde jumped on top of him, ready to punch his face again.
“Oh. Oh, you’re in love with her-”
“THAT IS ENOUGH!”
Mikey’s hand froze mid punch as Kisaki Tetta - the ever cunning advisor- stepped into the room. Hanma is not too far behind, glancing at the now destroyed room with a low whistle, mumbling about how the wreckage will take a lot of money to fix.
Kisaki looked at the two of them, nose turned up in disgust as he folded his arms around his chest. His glass encased eyes scanned around the room, tsking at the destruction. “Kokonoi’s going to fucking kill me.” He murmured before looking at the two males, a frown on his lips. “All this over one bitch?” he asked, a brow raised in disappointment and shock. “I’d be impressed if I wasn’t pissed.”
Izana was the first to react, scoffing at the younger male’s unwanted interruption. “What are you even doing here? This isn’t your problem-”
“It’s mine now.” Kisaki shot back hotly, irritated by everything that was going on. “Since Mikey’s dearest friend thinks I’m responsible for whatever happened to Emma’s stupid dog, I have to make it my problem. The both of you, get up. Now.”
The two of them begrudgingly untangled themselves from each other and got up, dusting their clothes. Kisaki eyed both of them, moving from Mikey to Izana and then Mikey again.
“Which one of you is responsible for putting her in the hospital?”
“I didn’t even hit her that hard-”
“Are you still arguing about how hard you hit her?”
“Sorry. I’ll take it easy on your ‘girlfriend’ next ti-”
“ENOUGH!” Kisaki interjected once again, extremely frustrated by their constant squabbles. “You both realize that I’m- WE’RE literally under police scrutiny right now because of this entire issue right? I- I mean we need to get Emma back on our side since that is what the both of you are obsessed with.”
It was Mikey’s turn to roll his good eye, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I highly doubt that’ll ever happen, seeing as someone fucked it up for all of us-”
“Manjiro Sano, you are twenty-four for god’s sake. Stop being so childish and think with your brain for once.” Izana spat back, getting fed up with Mikey being on his case about it. “Do you really think (name) would actually admit I did anything? She’s too busy kissing our little sister’s ass to even defend herself.”
Kisaki nodded, agreeing with Izana. “Izana has a point. (Name) wouldn’t want to drag anyone into this, seeing how non-confrontational she is from my observation”
He paused for a bit before continuing. “But we can’t bank on that. You know how women are -they can snap any minute and change their mind. We need to pressure her into keeping quiet.”
Mikey took a long and deep breath, trying to make headway and listen to what Kisaki was saying, despite the whole ordeal sounding so wrong. His good dark eye flickered to Kisaki’s face as he asked. “Like how? Do we give her a large amount of money to shut up?”
“Don’t think that far Mikey. It’s just a mild assault, not something serious.” Kisaki shrugged his shoulders. “All you have to do is apologize-”
“Apologize?” They yelled in unison.
“Shut up and let me finish.” Kisaki barked, silencing any protest from them. When he was sure they weren’t going to interrupt him, he continued. “You don’t have to mean it. Just tell Emma how sorry you were for the party incident and how bad you feel that she got hurt. Pay the hospital bills or threaten (name). I don’t care what you do. Just make sure she stays quiet.”
As much as Izana and Mikey wanted to pass off Kisaki’s idea as a stupid plan, it actually sounded like a good idea. Pretending to care for you would touch Emma’s heart and give her the impression that they bore no ill feelings towards you.
They had to admit, as much as Kisaki was a bastard who was only doing this for his drug business, they couldn’t deny he was more insightful than anyone when it came to interpersonal relationships.
Too bad he couldn’t use that skill to get the woman he loved.
Now that they had an idea on what to do, one question still remained at the tip of Mikey’s tongue. “What about the police? If they ask who is responsible and she just dropped the case, they’re going to get suspicious.” he looked at his feet. “Plus my elder brother cannot find out that this happened. He’ll personally make sure we rot in jail for hitting a woman.”
“Yeah, he’s so adamant about protecting women.” Izana said dryly. Why does he need to care about other women who were probably asking for it? It wasn’t his business. “It annoys the hell out of me. I can understand protecting my sister but what does other women have to do with me?”
“They probably need protection from you. Freak.” Kisaki muttered underneath his breath before returning to his normal voice. “The both of you don’t have to worry about that. I already have a fall guy. Fucker can’t pay his debt in cash, so he’ll pay with his body”
Izana raised brow, impressed by Kisaki’s speed in doing damage control. No matter how much he made fun of Kisaki not being able to fight when push came to shove, he admired how quick he was with his thinking. At least he had that going for him. “You’re sure you weren’t some criminal mastermind in your former life?”
“I ask the same question everyday.” Hanma, who had been standing at the doorway completely silent this entire time, finally spoke. “Almost scares me sometimes.”
Kisaki only rolled his eyes in response, training his pointed gaze at Izana, issuing a final warning. The hoops he had to jump just to even evade being a suspect in the case, having to talk to police and deny knowing you so that they don’t crack down further on whatever shady business he partook in, was already stressful enough.
“This is the first and last time I’ll do this for any of you. I won’t tolerate any slip ups again. Don’t make me regret it.”
EMMA was careful in switching out the old flowers with the new ones in your hospital room.
It had been four days since she had rushed here, bare faced and teary eyed and met you in a sorry state. Back then your face was barely unrecognizable; your two eyes were swollen shut, handprints on the two sides of your cheeks, bruises littered everywhere. Your body was so cold- medium hypothermia the doctor had diagnosed, since you were left outside as the temperature dropped. You were in so much pain and you could barely react, that they had to knock you out to treat you properly.
Ken had left in a fury the moment he was sure you were going to be okay, and returned with busted knuckles, along with Mitsuya and Baji at his side. Emma couldn’t remember exactly what they were telling her as they sat besides her in your hospital room, much more preoccupied by keeping her eye on you.
It was all the same. “Sorry. We’re so sorry Emma.”
She was sorry too. But sorry could not change what had happened to you.
They would switch hours with her. In the morning, Mitsuya would arrive, food, new clothes and a sketchbook in hand and watch you while she goes to the hospital to shower and change. She’d come back to see him gently holding your hand and talking about his new ideas to you, only letting go when she made her presence known. He’d stay until twelve o’ clock, silently sketching for his portfolio before leaving for his next class and in came Keisuke.
Sometimes Baji would come with Chifuyu or Kazutora. Not the both of them, because he said one of them has to cover up for the others missing in class. They would arrive with takeout and Baji would talk about the latest gossip in school- how two professors were caught with each other. Both were married, to other people of course but it never stopped them. Sometimes he’d turn his attention to you as the nurse changed your IV and make corny jokes. He took your fingers moving a bit as a sign you liked them.
Draken came in the late afternoon. Always with flowers and Emma’s school work. Hina was usually with him, silently looking at her feet before taking a seat beside the blonde girl. “How are you?” “Have you had anything to eat?” and then the orange haired girl would go into what happened in class that day.
“We had a test today.” Hinata whispered, watching Emma put the dead flowers in the dustbin. “I wrote your part for you.”
“Did you write for (name) too?” She doesn’t even look at Hinata as she caressed the flowers. “Or did you forget about her like you claim that you always do?”
“I-” Hinata froze at how hostile Emma’s tone was. Before you came, Hinata was her closest friend. They spent so much time together in middle school and high school that people called them sisters. So when you suddenly appeared in the picture, Hinata felt side lined with how you and Emma, despite being different, clicked so fast.
That feeling bloomed into a tiny jealousy but Hina was too kind to wish evil upon you.
“Don’t be hard on Hina.” Draken jumped in her defense. “She tried writing for (name) but the time of the test ran out. (Name) can always retake the test since she’s ill.”
“She should have written for (name) first. One call from my brother would have taken care of my grades. (Name) doesn’t have that privilege.”
“Emma-”
“No Draken, don’t Emma me!” She snapped, all the anger bubbling inside her finally spilling out. “Since this whole ordeal it has always been ‘oh Emma we’re so sorry’ ‘Emma have you eaten?’ ‘Emma, have a change of clothes.’ ‘Emma Emma Emma’ as if I’m the one who is lying in the hospital bed, unconscious! Not one of you has apologized to her!”
“We-”
“Shut up Ken” she screamed in frustration, tears spilling from her eyes. “All of you sat and watched my brothers practically ruin her chance at having anyone care for her, that isn’t me! You watched her get humiliated at that fucking party and sided with THEM! None of you would have given a shit about her being here if I wasn’t looking after her!”
“Emma-”
“I’m not done yet!” she yelled, silencing Hinata. “Her family is useless! None of them cared enough to even come when I told them what happened to her! And now even the people that come everyday only dote on me while she’s just an afterthought! Hell only Mitsuya had the decency to ask me if she had made any progress or woken up. What is wrong with all of you!”
The two of them remained quiet, looking directly at the floor as Emma breathed heavily, clearly exhausted from all the screaming she had done. Awkwardness settled in the air, the two ashamed of themselves. In the end, the bitter truth was what Emma had said and they felt terrible for it. Although it wasn’t intentional, they had ostracized you for the sake of pleasing Mikey and Izana. Even the attack was because of how badly the two brother’s had demonized you in front of other people.
Draken inhaled before stepping forward and placing his large arms around Emma’s smaller frame. She doesn’t struggle, instead collapsing in his arms, loud sobs escaping her lips. He doesn’t say anything, only rubbing circles on her back to ease her. “Easy. It’s alright.” He whispered, gently comforting her.
Before she could say anything, the door of the hospital opened up, revealing Ran with a huge bouquet of flowers, Rindou not following too behind with ridiculously large balloons all spelling get well soon and Kakucho holding a bunch of bags containing chocolates.
The respective trio all glanced at each other, blinking back and forth, increasing the odd tension in the air. After another thirty seconds of silence, Ran was the first to break the ice.
“Uh… did we arrive at the wrong time?”
Emma quickly pushed herself away from Ken, wiping her tears off quickly with the back of her hand and returning to her regular self. There was no way she’d let anyone else see her cry. “No-” she started shaking her head. “No, no, no, this is the right time. Come in.”
The three of them stepped in and Kakucho shut the door to the ward behind him. “Sorry, we didn’t come earlier.” Kakucho began, walking straight to where you laid peacefully, your chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. “How is she um… doing?”
“She’s getting better.” Emma replied, her voice a tad bit shaky from crying. “The doctors said the moment she wakes up, she’ll be able to leave.”
Draken watched as the three men rallied around her bed after dropping the gifts off in a proper place. Another moment of silence befalls the room, everyone watching you sleep peacefully - trying to bury their individual guilt of being complicit in what brought you here. Emma’s stubbornness, Draken and Hinata’s consistent silence and Ran, Rindou and especially Kakucho’s unwavering loyalty that have forced them to lie to Emma.
And you, in the center of it all. Face almost back to normal now, the swelling nearly gone, but still littered with bruising that surrounded your neck.
All they could do was stare powerlessly and feel sorry for you.
Eventually, Hinata and Draken had to leave as night time emerged. “I’ve got to meet up with Takemichi.” Hinata said as she packed her things away, her voice soft. “He’s not been feeling so good for the past few days now. He sends his regards though.”
“I hope he gets well soon.” Emma replied quietly, before giving Hina one last hug. “And I’m sorry for what I said earlier.”
“It’s okay.” She patted Emma’s back, before pulling away. “I’ll try and talk to the professor about her test in class.”
Ran and Rindou were the next to leave after another hour. “Should we get bigger balloons next time for the sleeping beauty, Emma?” Ran asked, a bit too flirtatious for her liking.
“That’s the last thing anyone would want” Rindou snapped, grabbing Ran by his arm and dragging him away. “Sorry about him.” He shouted as they walked away through the door, Ran muttering about how the pretty girls in there were already stuck dating losers. “I hope (name) wakes up soon.”
Kakucho stayed until it grew dark before leaving Emma. “I’ve tried talking to Izana to at least come.” He said, slipping on his jacket and tucking his bike keys in his pockets. “He hasn’t really said anything about what happened, he just stays cooped up in his room.”
Emma exhaled for the upteenth time today, resting her back on the chair. “I never expected any more from him.” She mumbled. “Thanks anyways.”
Kakucho nodded, patting the girl on the back. “I’ll come see you tomorrow. Make sure you don’t fall asleep on the seat.”
“I’ll try.”
The room fell silent again the second Kakucho shut the door. Now left all alone, Emma gently held your hand, watching over you until her eyes grew heavy. Even with the fading bruises littered all over your face and the disappearing eye bags, you looked so beautiful, at peace with the world. You were like those beautiful statues of mother Mary she saw when she went to church with you one time. A timeless beauty, marred by scars and failed by the very God that sought to protect her.
She longed for you to have the light in your eyes again like the first day she met you in class. You were so happy - naïve but happy back then. You would always light up when you experienced something for the first time. There was a brightness associated with you - far brighter than her and like a moth to a flame, she was drawn to you.
God, she missed your hugs. Whenever Emma had an awful day you would just hug her and stay like that until she felt better. She missed your voice, hearing you speak demurely or shyly. She missed you so much it nearly drove her crazy.
If only she could have been there to protect you. In a heartbeat she would change her mind to be with you or take your place.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please wake up.”
MIKEY gently opened the door to your hospital room, careful not to startle or wake anyone up.
A voice nagged him in his head, that he was a coward to come so late in the night but at this point, Mikey could care less of what he thinks of himself. The only important thing right now was to get on Emma’s good side and completely get rid of the notion that he was the bad guy.
Even though he had called in favors from the chief of hospital staff to let him do this.
Izana had insisted on following him behind, but got held back because he was shit at parallel parking. Mikey wondered how his brother even got his license in the first place, considering that Izana intentionally broke nearly all the traffic rules to get here.
His footsteps were soft, creeping towards your bed until he stopped beside Emma’s chair. She slept in an awkward position, neck hanging off the head of the chair, mouth wide open with drool to the side and her hand tightly clutching yours. He could see how worn out she looked, dried tears staining her face, heavy rings of dark circles, coupled with tangled blonde hair.
Wordlessly, Mikey pried her hand from your own and picked her up from the chair to the more comfortable sofa seat, putting her in a better sleeping position before covering his younger sister with a blanket.
He felt bad. She spent lonely nights by the looks of it, wishing you would wake up. He had never seen her look so tired or worn out before and he hated seeing her so stressed over something so … irrelevant.
He gradually walked back to her former seat, man spreading wide enough as he sat down. It was so weird to see you sleep like you were a human being, your chest rising and falling ever so softly. The moon casted its gentle glow on your face, gracefully tracing the column of your neck to the rest of your body. His mind went back to a fairytale his mother used to tell him, about a beautiful princess, pricking her finger on a needle and falling into a death like sleep.
The similarities were there. Tragedy befell you both. You were asleep with no indication of waking up and as much as he hated to admit it to himself- he knows you’re beautiful.
It was the first thing he noted when he set his eyes on you for the first time ever. There was just this brightness and gentility that came with your beauty that nauseated him. You were sweet. Far too sweet when he spoke to you for the first time and too kind to be true. He hated it. Why were you so kind when nobody really deserved it?
Even when he was painstakingly mean to you, you tried so hard to apologize. It made it harder for him, being jealous of your ability to warm hearts faster than him. He wanted nothing more but to make you cry and hurt like him until you’re no longer kind anymore. Anything that would block out that brightness from you.
His mom was nice and sweet like you. And dead. Very much dead. Going by your track record, you’ll marry the first man to bat an eye at you and live a miserable life getting cheated on until you die of a broken heart. You were just that naïve.
You were just that weak.
He watched you for some more minutes, the only noise being the ticking clock above your head. It was so easy to harm you right now. A pillow to your head and it would be the end for you. Maybe Emma would cry a little bit but then she’ll move on and run back to her beloved brothers, then everything would be back to normal.
Or, he could slide his hand underneath the flimsy blanket and just finger you again. Or force his cock into you and cover your mouth with his hand if you wake up. It wasn’t like you would be able to fight him off. As long as he cleaned you up and left no noticeable mark, no one would know what happened.
He put his hand underneath your blanket and rested on your thigh, thumb circling on the bare skin. His mind whispered to just “do it” and “take you”.
‘It’s so easy. So eas-’
“Manjiro?”
It was so faint and yet he heard your groggy voice call out to him, stopping him in his tracks and he pulled away from your thigh. Your eyes cracked open, darting around as you sat up disoriented. “Where am I?”
It was obvious you had just woken up from the induced coma or whatever they had put you on. His mind suddenly blanched, now confused on what to do or tell you. What now? Was he supposed to comfort you and tell you you’re in a hospital? Or get you to lie down? ‘I hadn’t anticipated she'd wake up? What should I tell her?’
And as if the universe cursed Mikey, the door creaked open, revealing Izana mumbling about he hated driving a car.
The reaction was immediate. Your once confused visage morphed into a terrified expression the moment you locked eyes with Izana in the dimly lit room. You must have remembered what had happened before you passed out, every single detail rushing back to you in full force.
‘Shit, this wasn’t part of the plan.’
“You! You tried to kill me! Get away from me-mmhmmphmm-”
A hand slapped on top of your mouth, keeping you from speaking. You looked back up to Mikey with fearful eyes, who placed a finger to his lips, shushing you. “Shut up.” He hissed. “Or do you want us to finish the job?”
Your eyes grew wide with fear at his murderous gaze, the pit in your stomach only growing deeper as Izana made his way to your bedside, now standing in front of you. Your body trembled rigorously when the tan skinned man suddenly pulled out a gun, brandishing it in your face.
“Now listen to me.” Izana threatened, pressing the gun to your temple to buttress his point. “Not a word about anything from that night. Understood?” You nodded, scared out your mind. “You’re gonna act like we’re cool with each other. I don’t want any form of frowning or fear or anything that’ll raise suspicion. I don’t care how bad you are at acting, you’re gonna put on an oscar-worthy performance pretending we apologized to you and you’re okay. You don’t want to find out what happens when you cross me.”
You nodded your head as tears rolled down your cheeks, your fingers gripping the sheets below you tight to anchor yourself, praying he doesn’t change his mind and blow your brains out. Satisfied, Izana tucked in the gun underneath his holster and patted the top of your head patronizingly. “That’s a good, good girl.” He cooed, “you’re a good girl aren’t you? You’ll stay quiet, hm?”
You shivered as his warm hand caressed your face, his touch being so gentle for you as opposed to his violent nature. Mikey released your mouth, his dark eyes flicking from your face to your lips. “Use your words.” The blond snarled.
“Y-yes. N-no one will know.”
It was almost cute the way you stuttered. They should be feeling some sort of remorse for making you cry just as you woke up from a minor coma, possibly ruining a happy moment for you, but you looked so pretty whimpering and shaking for them.
“Good, good girl.” Your stomach churned at Izana’s satisfied smirk. “You’re smarter than I thought.”
You watched as the two of them stood upright and headed for the door, their mission accomplished. Tears gathered in your eyes once again, a loud snivel escaping your lips, slapping a hand to your mouth when it caught their attention.
Izana, already fed up with you, walked back to your bedside, teeth gritted in irritation as he lowered his lips to your ear. “I’ll give you something to cry about if you don’t shut up.” he growled. “Wipe your tears NOW.”
You complied quickly, cleaning your face repeatedly until your face was raw. “Now lie back down.” He demanded and you compiled, pushing your body back until you laid on the bed, facing the wall. You only heard footsteps as they walked away and you don’t dare shed any tears until you hear the door slam shut.
‘Oh God.’
YOU knew better than to disobey Izana and Mikey.
Your smiles were as bright as the sun, eyes shining with the radiance that could only be compared to a bright light. There was a pep in your step anytime you walked, pushing forth all the positive energy you could give to the world. Everyone complimented how well you took the incident that befell you and how fast you healed, commending you on not letting the past define you.
It’s toxic. People saying just how strong you are for smiling and existing rots your brain and fills your throat with bile. They can’t see the hurt underneath the layers of clothes you wear or the blinding smile and wave you give everyone.
You want someone to notice you’re in pain and hug you, swear they will protect you and keep you safe. But as long as Mikey and Izana live, nobody will ever risk their life for you.
They got what they wanted. Emma was talking to them again after you lied to her face that they had apologized to you in the middle of the night. Someone else was in jail, awaiting trial for assaulting you, while Izana roamed free, clinging onto Emma to make up for lost time. Mikey would occasionally glance at you from time to time as you watched them from afar, waiting for Emma to be done so that you could go back to your dorms.
She had refused you going anywhere alone since that incident, citing that someone might still attack you. “I just want you to be safe, '' she had said once, trying to explain herself to you.
You didn’t have the heart to tell her what really made you feel unsafe.
“(Name), what’s the subject of the sentence?”
“Huh?”
You’re brought back to earth when Hina snapped her fingers in your face. She had decided to join Emma in helping you study for your makeup tests due in a week, but you don’t seem to be focusing on anything at all. Your thoughts kept drifting back to Izana and Manjiro, plagued by their constant playing god in your life.
Pushing those thoughts aside, you decided to pay more attention to the test you were studying for. Eventually, they’ll give up on harassing you and everything will go back to normal, being the joint kings of the school until they graduate. You’ll be a tiny blot in their memories as they find partners, get married and have kids, all the while running Japan’s crime scene.
There was no need to keep thinking about them. You were insignificant in the scheme of things.
Just keep your head down and study. Be a coward and tuck your tail between your legs.
“Sorry Hinata. The last sentence went over my head.” you said, pushing your book forward. You felt bad for wasting Hina’s time- even though she’s the best in your class, you were sure she would rather be doing something else than having to sit all night studying with you. “Subject verb agreement in a compound sentence isn’t my strong suit.”
The orange haired girl merely shrugged her shoulders in response. “Eh. It’s cool. Professor Hanabi was terrible at teaching it anyways and I didn’t understand what he was saying in class.”
“But you got a perfect score.” You interjected, if Hinata didn’t understand the topic what are the chances of you getting it either? “Only you and Emma don’t have to retake this test again.”
“Because we went on youtube immediately after class. Duh!” Emma clapped back. “Unlike some of us who think facebook is still a valid form of social media.”
“Hey!” You screamed back, embarrassed at Emma making fun of you. Why she loved bringing up the fact that facebook was the only social media you were allowed to use at home still remained a mystery. “You said you wouldn’t bring that up again!”
“That’s one promise I’ll never keep.” She teased, sticking out her tongue. You opened your mouth to retort when Hinata snapped back at the both of you. “Alright, that’s enough. Focus on the lesson, I only have an hour left until I meet up with Takemitchi.”
“Fine.” you and Emma groaned in unison. You would get her another time.
You decided to spend the rest of the hour listening to Hinata talk about compound sentences and occasionally, Emma chiming in with short quizzes. It was slow, but you were making some form of progress with their help until you were sure you got the hang of it. You moved on to other topics in the course, asking questions whenever you were confused.
By the time you had reached the quota of your studying, it was about ten pm. The two girls had to pack up and go their separate ways, leaving you to do your revision for the rest of the night, alone.
“You sure you don’t want me to stay?” Emma asked you as she stood outside your room door. “Your roommate hasn’t returned back to the room since you came back from the hospital.”
Shaking your head, you put a hand on Emma’s shoulder, reassuring her that you were going to be fine with staying all alone. “Em, it’s fine. I’m already in my room so no one will harm me.”
“You sure?”
The worry in her yellow eyes made your heart hurt. You hated seeing your friend who had spent the most part of last week watching over you while you were knocked out in the hospital look so troubled. It wasn’t her fault that her brothers were like that and you didn’t want her to punish herself for it.
“Sure, Em.” You smiled, before pulling her in for a tight hug, inhaling her flowery scent. “I’ll even lock the doors tight. Nothing will happen to me in my room.” You mumbled into her shoulder, lingering in her arms before pulling away and forcefully dragging herself until she disappeared into the hallways.
Now left to your own devices, you ensured the door was locked, before going ahead to shower. You let the cold water wash away the sweat and grime off your body, making you relax your tense muscles for the first time today. The stress of having to pretend you were okay was weighing down on you - a heavy burden that felt far too big and far too much for you to carry. You’ve been assaulted twice and the perpetrators still waltzed around like they’ve done nothing wrong to you. You saw them with prettier girls hanging off their arms, all smiles and laughter. Hell, they treat them far better than you, buying them gifts and taking them out.
You only asked for an apology from them, but they couldn’t even give you that.
The sound of your room door unlocking broke you out of your trance. ‘Wow, she decided to come home, finally.’ Your roommate, Kehlani hadn’t bothered to even check up on you in the hospital from what you heard, despite her being aware -and admitting to Emma that she knew. She even confused you further when she gave you a dirty look the day you returned and then disappeared the next without any trace.
It didn’t matter anyways. You and her were never on good terms in the first place so you didn’t bother with her behavior. Perhaps she would one day warm up to you if you kept being kind to her.
Thankful that you took your nightwear with you, you shrugged on your blue tank top and your tiny white shorts decorated with flowers, hung your towel on the rack and brushed your teeth clean, ready for the night. A yawn escaped your lips as you reached for the door, deciding to retire early tonight.
“I have nothing else to do anyways” you hummed, walking out of the bathroom. “I need to rest too…”
The words died on your lips the moment you locked eyes with Mikey’s.
He was just sitting on your bed calmly, looking straight at you with a blank expression on his face, still clothed in his usual baggy carton coloured trousers and button up shirt twice his size. Your heart leaped into your throat at how unbothered he was being caught in your room, his hands resting on his knees. You could feel his gaze, dark, empty -at first, drinking up the sight of you in such little clothes until a smile makes its way to his lips.
“Manjiro.” Your voice started shaking as multiple questions rang through your head. What was he doing in here? How did he get in here? Why did he come here? What was he going to do to you? "Manjiro please-”
“(Name), come here.”
You hate how collected his voice sounds, how he’s not freaking out, like it was his room that you broke into and not the other way around. You stay rooted in place, not wanting to obey him or anything he has to say. “Please…” was all you could manage to get out of your lips, your back pressed to the door as he stared you down. “Please don’t do this.”
“Unless you want me to rape you, then come here. I don’t have that time to play games with you.”
The bluntness of his words sent chills all over your body. Something told you it was better to go along with whatever he said, hopefully he wouldn’t want anything too much from you.
You would rather not want to find out if he would truly hurt you.
Your body pushed off the wall and made its way to him until you were standing in front of him. You swallowed down your fear as his hands reached up to the sides of your clothed ass, kneading them in his palms. “How soft.” He murmured, before pressing his nose to your crotch, sniffing you down until his head was between your legs. Your body grew hot with embarrassment as he smelt you like he was a fucking dog, humming in approval at your scent.
“Manjiro-”
“Shh.” He silenced you, pulling his head from between your thighs. His palms that once kneaded your plump ass suddenly grabbed them and pushed you onto his lap. A tiny gasp emanated from your lips as you felt something very hard poke you through his layers of clothes, your face just inches from his until your noses touched.
You don’t smell alcohol or anything strange in his breath. He was doing this sober.
‘No, no, no-’ you panicked at the feeling of his hard on in his pants. You can’t let him touch you like this, the first time was already a mistake. You can’t make the same mistake again. You’ve spent so much time praying and doing penance, you can’t let it go to waste now.
“Manjiro please. This is wrong-” you started pleading with him, pressing your hand on his chest, putting some distance between the two of you. “I can’t do this. It’s wrong- ah”
His lips find purchase on your neck, before dragging it across your neckline to your jaw. His hands push you until you’re pressed into his chest, immobilizing you from trying to run away from him. You shivered with each wet kiss Mikey littered around your neck, his lips so gentle in kissing you up and down. His hands start to slowly rock your hips, grinding down on his hard on with a low groan as he moves to your mouth, lips pressing gently at the corners.
“Open your mouth.”
You gave in, slightly parting your lips for him to kiss you fully. The way he slotted his lips against yours felt so wrong, so sinful as he pushed his tongue inside your mouth to intertwine with your own wet muscle and yet, your body couldn’t help but react to it, wetness slowly seeping from your womanhood to your panties.
Each kiss was more sensual than the last, a hand moving from your hips to the back of your neck, keeping you in place as he made out with you, his hot muscle gliding over yours.
Was this how he made girls feel? As much as you hated what was happening, your body grew hot with each grind and kiss, his clothed cock teasing your soaked clit. You felt so airy and lightheaded, like nothing else was going on in the world but him. It wasn’t like the first time in his car, where everything was rushed and it hurt; this time he was gentle, methodological which was unexpected from the careless and cruel Manjiro Sano you were forced to deal with everyday.
He pulled away from you, a long string of spit connecting both your lips. The grinding stopped, and you nearly let out a whine because it was beginning to feel good.
The realization made you snap back to reality. What the hell were you thinking? This was disgusting.
“Manjiro, I can’t do this.” You started pleading with him. You don’t know what could have gotten into the blonde haired male, but you needed him to stop this and leave, before it escalated into something else. “Please, we have to sto- oof.”
Mikey was quick to shove you on the bed completely face up, before climbing on top of you, crushing you with his weight by lying down on you. You opened your mouth to protest only to be silenced by a kiss again, this time far rougher than the last one, both your teeth clanging on each other. Your head spun as his hands began to travel underneath your tank top, pushing the flimsy material up until your breast sprang free.
With his body pressed on yours, you felt his dick twitch at the same time.
He pulled away from your lips, his hair forming a curtain around both your faces and focused on your breasts. Your body grew hot as he groped the two mounds at the same time, his breathing heavy as he played with them. Your head falls to the side with him squeezing your tits before massaging it again, eliciting moans from you.
“You have such nice tits.” He murmured between breaths, groping and teasing you with each compliment. You’ve never been complimented by Mikey before, all you knew was how caustic he could be to you. “Nice tits. Nice ass. Nice pussy.” He groaned, pinching your nipple hard and making you whine loudly. “Even your moaning is so cute.”
You don’t know how to react. His behavior is so unlike him. So strange that you don't even understand why he was acting this way. You briefly looked up at him, noticing how hooded his gaze was. His face was red, the blush extending to his neck and hell, even his hands were red.
It made you feel shy. You turned your head and looked away from him, not wanting to be under his scrutinizing gaze. Everything felt so wrong, but you couldn’t deny that his gentle touches made your heart race fast and the pulse between your legs grow wet.
He finally lets go of your breast and kisses your neck again, earning soft moans from your lips. He trailed butterfly kisses down your neck, to your sternum, down to your stomach. A soft “Manjiro” escaped your lips as he kissed your pelvic line simultaneously, hooking his fingers on your shorts and panties to pull them down.
It was as if that snapped you out of your lustful haze. Nobody had ever seen you down there before, it was wrong to let a man that isn’t your husband see such intimate parts of you. You sat up and put your hand on his wrists, stopping him from moving further. “Manjiro wait- we can’t…” you protested. “... it’s against what I -”
“Interrupt me again. I dare you.”
You froze at how dark his voice sounded. It was as if another man had taken his place, with how he was so quick to change his mood. “Lie on your back or I’ll rip these to shreds.”
You obeyed, not wanting to incur his wrath, closing your eyes as he dragged your shorts and panties down to your ankles, leaving it there. Your let out shaky breaths as he spreads your thighs wide, showing your glistening wet pussy in all its glory. He adjusted himself until he was kneeling on your bed and yanked you forwards, earning a yelp from you until your legs were on each of his shoulders, shorts and panties hanging off from one leg.
The position felt so exposing, but any shame you felt disappeared when he began kissing your inner thighs. You breathed through your nose in an attempt to steady yourself. You’re not familiar with this sort of position - not even the romance books you snuck into your room from the library talked about what Mikey was about to do.
‘Just breathe.’ You whispered to yourself. ‘It will all be over so-’
Your eyes flew open as his tongue licked a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, your whine high enough for the entire dorm to hear. His fingernails pressed crescents into your thighs as he started to glide his tongue around your clit, circling around it in lazy, slow eights. Your body seized up, the bundle of nerves firing signals that even you couldn’t understand.
‘W-what- OH MY GOD-’
“MANJIRO-”
He didn’t let up, maintaining his pace as you trembled underneath his tongue, rolling around your clit before moving down, flattening his tongue until he stopped at your entrance, before moving up again. Your head fell back onto the bed as he opened his mouth even wider, his tongue slurping your juices emanating from your pussy, moving up and down.
His lips latched onto your clit, sucking deeply, his tongue running through the middle letting go with a loud pop before grinding his face on your cunt, his tongue slurping and sucking, sending vibrations from your clit, straight to your brain. Each stroke had your fingernails digging deep into your sheets hard, until you were sure you had torn holes in them. Your body shook and trembled with how fast he bobbed his head up and down, tongue brushing your sensitive nub with each stroke until your head swarmed with pleasure. His grip on your thigh was hard, forcing you to stay put instead of closing your legs around his head or running away.
Your head was foggy as a familiar build up started forming in your belly. At this point, you’re sure the entire dorm building knows who exactly was in your room with how loud you were moaning. Your body writhed in his grip as he increased the speed of his tongue fucking against your sensitive bud, focusing on that particular place with a circular motion and sending waves of pleasure throughout your entire body. Your back arched as you pushed your hips further into his face, trying to hump his face to match the pace he set.
“Manjiro- please I can’t- Ah!”
You let out an ear piercing scream as he flickered his tongue on your nub, dragging you closer to ecstasy. Your hand flew to his hair, forcing his face further into your cunny and hips automatically and clumsily grinding against his lips and tongue- unknowing suffocating him. All you cared for at this point was to get to the edge and just let go, bucking your hips even faster.
“Manjiro, oh God! Ahh unh…”
The noises you let out were nearly unintelligent, just your mind repeating the urge for you to cum on his tongue. Mikey dug his fingers into your thighs, his moans vibrating around your nub, clearly enjoying eating you out as well- increased the sensation, pushing you closer and closer. He indulged you, moving his head sideways to increase the sensation until your vision starts to blanch out, toes curling on his shoulders.
“MANJIRO OH, OH IT’S CLOSE OH OH-”
Your hips stuttered as your orgasm washed over your entire body, grinding your clit on his tongue to ride it out. He’s lapping up your juices as they gush out, groaning at how you’re twitching and cumming on his tongue, crying out his name with every thrust until you’re sure you can’t cum anymore.
You collapse on the bed hard, your body quivering with the aftershock of the intense pleasure you just experienced. You watch through tired eyes as Mikey discarded your limp legs to either sides of his waist, raising his head up to reveal his cum stained face, a lustful grin gracing his lips.
He reached up to you again and grabbed your chin, kissing you to taste your release, letting the tangy flavor invade your tongue. He pulled away, his hand still on your chin. “You taste good.” He hummed, making you feel so warm and fuzzy before kissing your face again. “You know what a pussy job is?” when you shook your head no, he groaned. “Alright, I can work with this.” He murmured before demanding that you, “pull your panties up.”
You knew better than to disobey or ask questions when he gives you that look, scooping up your panties until you covered your sensitive pussy. He started to unbuckle his belt, zipping his baggy trousers and shimming down his boxers, letting his cock spring free. You averted your eyes from staring at the slightly darkened appendage leaking with precum not wanting to sin any further than you already have.
He’s too preoccupied to care, dragging his hand around his member to spread the pre, lubricating his cock until it was slick. Mikey slipped your panties aside and uses his fingers to spread your still sensitive folds, sliding his cock with one hand into your panties until it’s well balanced between your folds, making you jolt in response.
“Fuck” he hissed, his hips bucking between your legs, slightly stimulating your already sensitive clit. “You’re so fucking wet, shit.” he groaned into your ear, dragging his cock back and forth.
Your poor swollen nub brushed against his cock as he jerked against you, earning loud whimpers from you. Each thrust is accompanied with Mikey’s soft moans, pleasure blooming in his body as your wet juices leaked on to his erect cock, making him press himself further into your folds to feel more and more of you.
His hands grab at your hips again, this time moving them as he rolled his, creating a steady rhythm for each other. Both your moans mixed with the squelching noise of his dick rubbing against your wet pussy echoed throughout the room. The scene was erotic, the two of you pressed against each other, Mikey’s flushed face glistening with sweat and his mouth wide open, heavily breathing above you, your eyes closed and mouth parted open, broken pleas falling from your lips as he stimulated your clit again.
“Uh- fuck-” the blond groaned, rocking his hips faster with each thrust, relishing in the feeling of just being able to play with your folds like this. “Ugnh (name), shit- I’m the only one allowed near your pretty folds, understood?”
“Huh-”
“No one. No other man.” He rasped out, trying to keep himself grounded as he commanded you, jerking his cock faster and faster, his hips stuttering. “Is allowed near this pussy. It’s mine and mine only-” You nodded mindlessly, not even understanding why he brought that up. “Say it. Say your pussy is mine”
“It’s yours” you breathed. “My pussy is all yours.”
“Yeah. That’s right. All mine.”
Your body shuddered the second he gave his final thrusts, rubbing his cock against your folds until he came with a low ‘fuck’, loads of cum staining your panties completely, the rest dripping on the bed in a final pump. He briefly collapsed on top of you, catching his breath until his heart returned to its normal rate.
The lustful fog had eventually cleared from your eyes and the sting of guilt and humiliation ate you alive. Here you were, lying down half-naked and face up, underneath Manjiro Sano, already breaking your promise to never return back to your sin. You felt so dirty, your body marked and swollen from the littered hickeys and bruises he left in his wake.
You’re not shocked when he pulled out from your soiled panties and tucked his dick back in. The best he does is go to his bathroom to wash his hands, before coming out with a wet towel and a panty change. He sat beside you, taking off your filthy panties and wiping you down before giving you the new ones, helping you to put them on, adjusting your clothes and finally, covering the blanket over you. You’re too ashamed to tell him to help you change your sheet or check if he put your soiled underwear in the right place. You don’t even ask him how he got in your room.
All you do is wallow in your own guilt, unaware that he left the room with your filthy panties in his pockets.
Bonus scene:
“SINCE when does Mikey get pissed when we make a joke?”
Takashi tried to drown out Nahoya’s irritating voice as he worked on his new clothing article for an assignment. His fingers worked in tandem with the sewing machine, hoping the noise would drown out the stupid agrument going on right now.
Tonight was supposed to turn out differently. They were all having fun and playing video ganes or asking each other to do stupid dares. This was supposed to be a chance to relax without having the whole school crammed in their frat house. Eventually it came to talking about girls they had slept with or would like to sleep with, and while he didn’t contribute, it was meant to be just something they wouldn’t take seriously.
That was until Hanma opened his fucking mouth and brought you up.
“You guys kept bringing up (name), how was that funny dude.” Keisuke snapped back at Nahoya. “Did you even hear the way you were talking about her?”
“It’s not like we were talking about his sister, Baji.” Pah tried to defend them. “He said any girl that wasn’t a member’s sister or Hina. How would we know he didn’t want to hear about her?”
“Maybe because he hates her?” Kazutora added amongst the ruckus. “Sure, her name is no longer banned from the house but you know he’s salty whenever she’s brought up. Or maybe he doesn’t like to hear people talk about how they want to hunt his sister’s friend down and fuck her like a whore?”
“He’s called her worse.” Hanma, the cause of the entire problem, shrugged, clearly unbothered by the situation. “I’m sure he’s only mad because he’s not the only one that wants to sleep with her. Is it our fault she’s always looks like she’s asking for dick with those eyes of hers?”
That was the final straw for Mitsuya. He slammed the breaks on the machine and quickly got up, now facing Hanma and the rest of them. “(Name) isn’t asking for anything, you’re just a pervert.” He hissed.
“Aww, the gentle man finally speaks.” Hanma teased. “You know she wouldn’t fuck you right? She’s a sucker for Mikey after all.”
Ignoring Hanma’s statement, Mitsuya decided to address the rest of toman’s executives. “Don’t you all have sisters or mothers?” Mitsuya started lecturing them. “How would you feel if someone started talking about them, the way you talk about (name)? She just went through a traumatic event, can’t you have some sympathy for her a litt-”
The room fell quiet the moment Mikey walked in, slamming the door shut. The atmosphere grew tense as their leader made his way to the center of the room, a neutral expression written on his face. They watched him slowly pull out something from his pocket and throw it on the table.
‘What the-’
It was clear what the piece of article was and who owned it.
Everyone in the room stared in shock, looking at the panties and the back to Mikey, who turned around to return to his room. Like he didn’t just do something so vile and disgusting.
He was sending a message, claiming you like you were a territory that he owned. “You can talk about her all you want.” His tone was dismissive, but the lingering threat remained evident. “But have it at the back of your mind she’s my bitch and I hate sharing.”
He disappeared into the room, leaving his friends completely speechless. No one said anything, trying processed what just happened until Hanma broke the ice.
“Mitsuya, you gonna tell him off?”
Takashi felt sick to his stomach.
special thanks to: @honeybleed @manjibunny @reiners-milkbiddies @izanaki707 @rukiaslvr @ilovetwodmen @bbykoo-7 @tenjikusstuff4 @cockonoi @koffeenoe2 @kodzukein @lostsomewhereinthegarden @cashout-princess @aliyxh-o @kay-bear200 @iluv-ace @vixensbrainrotts @missgab @urmomsksk @sweeytheart @charcoal-xl @uradveragewhore @wcayaw @blueberry3muffin @haikyuusboringassmanager
monica's notes: thank you guys for reading this chapter! i hope you enjoy it and show your continual support by reblogging and commenting! it means a lot to me and motivates me to write faster. i'll be taking any questions you have and if you want to know what parts didn't make it into the final cut you can send me an ask.
#tokoyo revengers#tokyo revengers x reader smut#tokyo revengers fanfiction#tokyo rev smut#manjiro sano#mikey sano#izana kurokawa#mikey x reader#manjiro sano x reader#manjiro sano x reader smut#mikey x reader smut#izana kurokawa x reader#izana x reader#izana x reader smut#tokyo revengers angst#dark content
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DP X DC PROMPT #25
(#) = Notes at the end of post
(*) = Just me building off of other ideas.
✦
Family Reunion
Clockwork sends an adult Danny, newly appointed Ancient of Space, on a mission through time again. Except this time, it isn't located on Earth, but a distant planet he's never even heard of before. Clockwork didn't tell him any specifics on what he was supposed to do or when he was supposed to return to his own time, just to blend in and have an experience. He would know when it was time to return.
Needless to say, he has a blast! His core is bursting with happiness at getting the chance to explore this unknown corner of the universe with a sky full of constellations he's never seen and fascinating locals. Considering he might be here a while, he buckles down and learns all about their culture and their traditions and even eventually learns their language without having to use the two-way translator Clockwork gave him.
He spends decades there, not even having to worry about how he never appears to age, the people here being incredibly long-lived. However, he eventually meets someone. Someone he falls head over heels for. He gets married. He has kids. He watches them slowly grow into adults as well. It isn't until one of his sons informs him that he's expecting his own child(1) that Danny feels a tug at his core.
He ignores it, but over the course of a few weeks, it's gone from the occasional pull to a full-on yank at his entire being, along with a sense of dread that something was going to happen to this wonderful little planet. To his family.
He becomes restless and loses so much sleep, it's a miracle he can even stand. His family are worried for him, but he assures them that he's just feeling a little under the weather. One night, he's sat up in bed, unable to sleep again. His gaze is fixed lovingly on his spouse, but nonetheless sad.
He doesn't miss when all the soft sounds of the night stop and a green glow appears behind him.
"It's time to leave, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"There isn't any way I could stay? I can't bring them with me?"
"I'm afraid not. There are some things that can't be changed or stopped, even when they fall into your domain. I'm sorry."
"Why send me here just to make me abandon them like this? What was the point?"
Clockwork is silent, but when Danny turns to look at the ghost, he's gone.
Danny takes a few more precious days to spend time with his family. Kiss his spouse. Hug his kids. Feel the strong kicks of his grandchild he won't be there to witness the birth of.
The night he leaves, he places a letter on his spouse's nightstand, gently kisses their forehead, and disappears in a flash of green, never to be seen again.
Years later is when Danny gets the news. That the planet Krypton is no more and that his family is gone. He searched the Ghost Zone for them, but he never knew the location of Krypton in the cosmos. Their afterlife is beyond his reach, in a place that isn't even on the Infamap.
He nearly drowns himself in grief when he finds a sliver of reprieve in the form of a news broadcast. An extraordinary man in blue and red with the kryptonian symbol for such emblazoned on his chest is shown fighting off multiple enemies at once. He is the spitting image of his father and Danny as well.
He had a grandson. His grandson was alive.
✦
(1) This was Kara, not Clark. Danny left before he even found out about Kal-El being in the oven, so there will be a misunderstanding at first. Then Kara pops up later, and Danny just bawls his eyes out that he had two surviving grandchildren without even knowing it this whole time. How he first meets either of them is up to you!
(*) What this means power-wise for Clark is yours to decide. As well as what Clark already knows about his grandfather from the stored information his father left him. What his father thought of Danny disappearing without a word is also up for you to decide.
#dp x dc#dc x dp#danny gets sent on a mystery mission by clockwork#he gets sent to krypton#he settles down and has a family#even started to consider krypton his true home#until it was yanked away from him without explanation#danny and clockwork's relationship is a bit rocky after krypton is destroyed.#he learns part of his family is still alive#superman is his grandson#kara is his granddaughter#clockwork needed to ensure that two of the most powerful heroes would be born#trying to help ensure Earth had its next generation of heroes to defend it#danny still doesn't like you right now clockwork#danny phantom crossover#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc prompt#dpxdc#writing prompt#prompt#sleepy writes stuff
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Dreams | Arthur Morgan/Reader
Word Count : 1.1k
Summary : Arthur starts having dreams of starting a family with you
Warnings/tags : Cursing, fluff, mention of infidelity, just Arthur being a sweet guy <3
He knows he shouldn’t feel like this. Shouldn’t be having these thoughts, because all they are just dreams. They’re never going to become a reality. Not when they’re constantly on the move, running from place to place. He sees the way it affects Jack, poor kid, not knowing what the hell is going on. And his daddy doesn’t exactly help him understand.
He can’t even say he would be a better father, he wasn’t before.
Hell you two ain’t even married yet, and he’s not that much of a fool. Not anymore. His regret for not marrying Eliza weighs heavily on him most days, even if he didn’t love her in that way. Now you on the other hand, he loves you more than anything. More than this stupid gang, more than life itself. He would happily lay down his life if he knew you would be happy, safe.
When these thoughts enter his head, he can’t say. His days sort of blend together, making it hard to pinpoint. Although seeing you interact with Jack doesn’t help.
You are so sweet, so motherly, hell you even mother the younger folks in the gang. Soft touches, kind words, but internally strong. You have all the qualities he finds attractive in a woman. Somehow you fell for him just as hard as he fell for you.
But he ain’t a fool, he knows this ain’t the right time or place. So instead he writes down all these dreams in his journal, his safe place. The place where he can say anything without being judged. He dreams of little girls, he didn’t know how to interact with Isaac. Too afraid of being his own father. Girls seem less daunting, and a little you would be perfect. He already has one angel, what’s one more?
He comes up with the name while north of Brandywine Drop. The bright purple flowers caught his eye just off the trail.
Violet.
Violet Beatrice Morgan.
His heart sings, scribbling the name down in the margins of his journal. He finds himself writing VM in his journal, smiling foolishly to himself. It’s beautiful, his precious flower.
It’s not like you meant to snoop. You were looking for Arthur, since he was nowhere to be found. You entered his tent, which in reality wasn’t much of a tent at all, finding his journal open. You walked over to it, looking over the worn page. There were the normal doodles he drew, along with his flowing hand writing. But one thing stood out to you, a pair of initials circled by hearts. VM.
You furrowed your brows, you couldn’t think of anyone you knew with the initials VM. Those definitely weren’t your initials either.
With your curiosity peaked you flipped through a couple more pages. VM was written everywhere, along with those damn little hearts.
You felt that little green monster grow inside you the further you looked into his journal. Biting your cheek so hard you could taste blood. It did nothing to quench the fire inside of you.
“Darlin?” Arthur called walking into the so-called tent. You dropped the journal back onto the table, turning to face him. “There you are.” He grinned walking towards you.
“Here I am.” You said forcing a smile.
“Hosea said you were looking for me.” He said softly, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, "Anything you need?”
“Must have forgot.” You said with a noncommittal shrug, “I ought to get back to work.” You nod walking past him. Arthur furrowed his brow at your attitude. Did he say something to offend you?
Then his eyes fall onto his open journal. His stomach drops at the sight. Jesus, you saw. You saw all of it. You were probably thinking the worst, seeing the initial surrounded by hearts. How was he gonna fix this?
You stomped off to the edge of camp, trying to wrack your brain as to who this VM could be. And why was Arthur drawing hearts beside the initials? Maybe you had this all wrong, Arthur would never do anything to hurt you. He was a good man, a man you could trust. Wasn't he?
“Y/n!” He called trailing behind you, a crestfallen expression on his face. You stopped at the tree lining, biting your lip as you turned to face him. “I can explain.”
“I’m sure you can.” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I-“ He sighed looking down, pinching the bridge of his nose as he let out a low curse.
“Who is she?” You asked clenching your jaw. He furrowed his brows looking up at you.
“What?” He asked, his hands settling on his hips.
“VM, the girl you keep drawing hearts around. Who is she?” You were blunt, something he loved so much. Always telling it like it is, never leaving him to guess your feelings. A small smile spread on his face, which only made you more mad. “Seriously, you think this is funny?” You hissed, taking a step towards him. Arthur only had one choice, to tell you the truth.
“Violet.” He said softly, reaching for you. “Violet Morgan.” You let him wrap his hand around your forearm, pulling you close to his chest.
“Who is Violet Morgan?” You asked, swallowing thickly. He sighed, looking off to the side, wetting his lips.
“She’s uh-“ He shook his head, a nervous smile on his lips. “She’s not exactly real, not yet at least.” He said.
You shook your head, brows knitted together, “Not real? The hell you mean, not real?”
“I-“ He rubbed the back of his neck looking down, “It’s uh- shit.”
“Spit it out Morgan.” You huff throwing your arms up.
“I thought of a name,” He explained, “A name for a girl if we- if we have one some day.” He said with a shrug, his cheeks flushed, almost as though he had been in a scuffle.
Oh.
If we have one some day.
“Oh Arthur.” You said softly, a smile spreading across your face. Feeling suddenly very foolish for doubting your man. “That's so sweet.” You took a step forward, tilting his face up to look at you.
“Yeah?” He asked, looping his fingers in his gun belt.
“Yeah.” You repeated, nodding. “Jesus you had me scared you were gonna tell me you found someone else.” You chuckled, shaking your head.
“Never. There ain’t no one else in this goddamn world that could replace you.” He said his hand reached up to cup your face. “You’re uh- you’re it for me darlin.” His bright blue eyes peered into yours, love and affection pouring out in his expression.
“When we have our girl.” You said brushing away a stray strand of honey brown hair, “Violet will be a perfect name.” He grinned, wrapping a hand around your waist.
“Guess it’s settled then.” He said as he leaned down to press his lips against yours.
#rdr2#arthur morgan#arthur morgan x reader#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption#rdr#john marston#jack marston#abigail marston#eliza#isaac morgan#hihomeghere#fluff
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Private Chef! Joel thots
ok so I've had this idea lingering for a while now, and the SAG outfit has just FUELLEDDD more of my thots!!!
Side note: (He has never looked sexier, how dare he age this well; how am I supposed to go on with my life; this is absolutely not fair)
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!plus size! reader
Warnings: smut, mentions of sex, oral (f receiving), Joel Miller, 18+ only, minors DNI
Sharing a smallish drabble/thotty abstract, if you will:
Ok, so maybe Joel has joined your family as your private chef. After all, your parents are SUPER rich, so they might as well look and feel the part.
You had to admit, he was worth every penny your mother was paying him. Not to mention he was easy going on the eyes, which made your mother glad; she would parade him around her lavish parties to the "cougars"/bored rich housewives, something which made your eyes roll.
Little did they know that the ever so charming Joel was a FREAK with a capital "F" in the sack.
You honestly don't even remember how it happened. A few conversations here and there, he had offered to teach you how to cook and bake; and those lessons were often plagued by thoughts of him bending you over and having his way with you, leaving you throbbing and wanting. If you didn't know any better, you could tell that it was affecting him too. His voice got huskier, eyes darkening every time he looked your way. It was a game of chicken, almost, how long either of you could keep the distance before the inevitable damn bursting.
You had once gone to "ask" him "a cooking doubt", and saw quite a sight indeed. Gone was the prim and proper Joel, with his neatly ironed and clean apron and immaculate dress shirts. His curly hair was mussed up, his shirt slightly untucked and his top buttons undone; he seemed to be engrossed in a video, hie eyebrows scrunched together as his fingers kneaded some dough, prepping for tomorrow's party. It was honestly like porn, the way his strong arms kneaded the dough, his thick fingers making you nearly drool. It took all your strength to walk away from there before you embarrassed yourself and begged him to throw you to the ground and pound you into the ground, no matter how desperate that sounded.
And it had happened finally. Another one of your parents' shindigs, and you found yourself bored out of your mind, only half listening to one of your mom's friend's son, whose one semester in London had "like, totally changed his life." Excusing yourself, you made your way to the kitchen, topping off your drink.
You saw him there, again, making small talk with Angela, one of your mom's friends who just wouldn't take a hint. You'd never seen Joel this tense and yet Angela seemed oblivious, throwing herself at him, her screeching laugh loud enough to wake the dead.
You took pity on the man and made up an excuse on his behalf, beckoning him to join you, picking up a few wedges of limes on the way, an idea forming in your mind. He bid Angela goodbye, hurriedly following you before she engaged any further.
"...Whyyy are we going to your room?" He asked bewildered, hesistant as he stood at the threshold.
You shrugged, "figured you could use a proper drink, not the shit downstairs." Taking out two shotglasses, you handed him a rather large shot of Hendricks, your drink of choice to get "classy-drunk".
You toast, downing the smooth liquid as it left a slight burn. Wincing, you pour another, his eyes widening at the pour.
"I'm technically on duty."
"And i'm technically meant to like all the guys my mom has shown me, but life doesn't work that way, does it?" You quipped, clearly goading him.
One shot turned to two. Two to four. The party was long forgotten, the both of you pleasantly tipsy and unguarded. For the first time, it felt like Joel was opening up to you.
"If I didn't know any better, i'd say you were planning on getting me drunk, sweetheart." He drawled.
You smirked. Making your way towards him, you poured another shot, promising him it that it was the last one, and that he could go back to his job. He chuckled, knowing that he would a tough time walking to the kitchen, let alone serving the guests. Lucky that the crew took over for the rest of the night, huh?
Wincing, Joel blindly searched for the wedge of lime to soothe the burn. Opening his eyes, he saw your cheeky grin as you held the lime between your lips, challenging him to take the next step.
He nearly growled as he shuffled closer, your faces mere inches from one another. His fingers ghosted over your lips as he inched closer, his lips tasting the juice of the lime. Plucking the wedge from your lips, his mouth was on yours, urging you to open up for him. You groaned, tasting the citrusy hints of the gin along with the slight tang of the lime, your tongues weaving an intricate dance.
While the party downstairs was loud and had taken a rather raucous turn, up in your room, the only noise you could hear was the sound of harsh grunts and panting breaths.
When your mom had first hired Joel, you didn't understand exactly why she did so, because the chef you'd had earlier was perfectly fine. Now, you couldn't thank her enough for hiring him.
Joel had you pinned to your bedroom door, as he ate you out enthusiastically. Pulling your thigh on his shoulder, he doubled down on his efforts to get you to come undone. Running your fingers through his beautiful curls, you tugged on them as his wonderful tongue worked its magic on your swollen nub. He hummed, circling his finger around your center, urging you on.
Pulling your other leg on his shoulder, he moved to pick you up. You were uncertain about this, but he was insistant, picking you up like you weighed nothing at all. He didn't stop his ministrations as he dropped you on her bed, continuing his amorous assault.
This display of strength had you clenching and reaching your end in no time, as you moaned loudly, yanking on his curls to ground yourself.
"Oh baby, keep doing that, don't stop." He moaned, as he made his way up your body, leaving small kisses and nips along your thighs, your belly. He reached your breasts, taking a swollen nub in his mouth and sucking enthusiastically.
Looking down, you saw one of the most erotic sights ever. Joel worshipping you, his curls a wild mess, his pristine white shirt damp with your release and with a few buttons undone, coming untucked out of his tight black pants.
You groaned. You needed him so badly it practically hurt. Reaching down, you palmed him through his pants, as he thrust himself into your wandering hands.
Pulling his erect length out of his pants, you panted as you worked him over, stroking him as he moved his hips in tandem with your hands. His harsh breaths as he groaned and grunted through gritted teeth turned you on like nothing else.
"I'm close, sweetheart." He managed to blurt out, as you increased the speed of your strokes, tongue moving along his already sensitive head. He pulled his length from your grasp as he worked himself to his climax, yelling out and cursing as he came all over your breasts.
You were mildly disappointed that he held back from fucking you; hell, you were sure he was going to finally take that step and put you through the mattress.
"Joel, I need you. Please." You begged, the need to feel him fill you up dangerously high. You sounded pathetic, sure, but you were beyond caring at this point.
Joel smirked, catching his breath.
"I have to get back sweetheart. Your mom would kill me if she didn't see me in the kitchen."
You couldn't hide your frown as you watched him neaten up, running a hair through his curls. Joel leaving you high and dry was not how you saw your plan panning out. He was about to leave as he turned back, made his way to you, holding your chin between his fingers.
"But I promise you, this isn't over. Not by a long shot." He breathed against your lips, leaving a small peck as he left, leaving you weak and wanting for more.
Silently seething, you began to plot your next steps. Joel Miller wouldn't know what hit him.
Oh no i don't like it i don't think this is my best work but omg it's out there *runs and hides in a corner*
Will there be a part 2?? That's a great question. Honestly i think i could've done better so maybe i have a redemption arc as well lolol, who knows atp
#pedro#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x original character#joel miller x plus size reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel the last of us#joel tlou#joel miller x you#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x oc#joel miller fic#the last of us hbo#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal smut
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Genshin cuddle headcannons
Genre: fluff
who?: Neuvillette, thoma, xiao, scaramouche, tighnari, itto, freminet,
Neuvillette
ah yes, hard on the outside but soft on the inside
He's the very clingy type, even if he tries his best to remain formal, he can't help but be attached to you
Would bury his face in your neck
You would usually have to initiate it first,
He would be the big spoon, but he's okay with small spoon too!
Being the big spoon, he could feel you by your side, making sure your safe
If he were the small spoon, this man would be blushing like mad, trust me
Thoma
Mmmm yes thoma >33
I feel he would be the more romantic type when it comes to cuddling, embracing every part of your body, tucking your hair behind your ears, ykyk
Well, depends on your personality, who initiates first might differ?but i feel thoma would be the kind of person to request to cuddle shamelessly
He's fine with both big spoon and small spoon
If he's the big spoon, you'll definitely be receiving headpats!!!!!
If he's the small spoon, he'd lie on your tummy, no matter the size
Xiao
Bold of you to assume this man gets sleep
But......if its you...who is he to decline?
"The adepti don't rest....let alone sleep. How absurd of you to think I would cuddle."
Nah man your going to find this man clinging onto you like there's no tomorrow at 3 fucking am in the morning
Good luck, because he's not gonna let you go
Need to go to the toilet? Nah you have a bladder for a reason
He's def big spoon, only on rare occasions you wake up, to you hugging his body
He'd definitely be embarrassed 100%
Scaramouche
Well, he'd be reluctant at first, for sure, but he will give in. eventually
Well, at least he won't appear in your room at 3 fucking am in the morning like somebody
He's def big spoon, he just can't afford to hurt his pride lololol
Would 100% flick your forehead for absolutely no reason
He's also the type to NOT.LET.YOU.GO.
“scara babe i need to go to the toilet :("
Naur he would just groan and fall back asleep
Man's grip on you is STRONG. You won't be able to wiggle out lol
Tighnari
DEUWYFGUYWEGUQFE I WANNA HUG HIS TAIL SO BAD
Would def allow you to hug his tail
His face would be so red as you gently stroke it
You could wake up in the middle of the night and see his ears twitching
He won't have such a strong grip on you, but it won't be a loose one either
If you wiggle out and go to the toilet, and he finds out he will be sad :(
His ears would go down
Once your back, expect to receive lots of forehead kissessss
Both big and small spoon is fine with him
Itto
Good luck with this guy💀
Better say your prayers to your family and friends, because this guy IS GONNA PLANT HIS WHOLE FUCKING ASS ON YOU
he's laying on top of you, crushing you with his weight
nah im kidding, he knows he's on the heavier side, so he'd adjust back later
Oh but don't be surprised if you found his foot shoved up your face
But in the non messy times, he'd definitely hold you tight, making sure you with him
Another one to shamelessly demand for cuddles
Freminet
He tries to be a big spoon, but you end up pampering him instead XD
Its 90% of the time you initiate it first
Bro would be the definition of blushing mess
He would rest his head against your chest
If your flat (like me) he would listen to the soft thumps of your heartbeat. It comforts him in a way
If you have bigger chests, he'd be so embarrassed, be he likes to use it as a pillow, he finds it very comfortable, as long as your okay with it of course!
He would hug you tight, but would start apologising once he realises :(
Notes: MY SECOND FIC HHAHAHAHA LOVE YALL
#genshin x reader#neuvilette x reader#thoma x reader#tighnari x reader#xiao x reader#scaramouche x reader#itto x reader#freminet x reader#genshin fluff
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