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girlokwhatever · 18 hours

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⚘⋆.ೃ࿔✧*ੈ˚ ༘♡⋆❀ she loves me, she loves me not,,

part 2 ; discover me and reality

previous part

paige bueckers x fem!reader (fake dating trope)

the gravity of your situation didn’t sink in until the next morning. a few of your friends messaged you during the night, some of them including girls from the basketball team. apparently bianca had posted all about it on her finsta, dissing you and paige and claiming you were a ‘cheating slut.’

you also noted quite a few missed calls and texts from bianca. you couldn’t help but read them, noticing her text demeanor is much different than how she is online. she’s practically begging you to talk to her, pleading with you to answer the phone.

you didn’t really think it all through and as soon as you read all of those messages, it hit you like a fucking bus. were you and paige going to keep this up? or was it a dumb drunk decision she made and was now regretting it?

there was only one way to find out. you didn’t want to confront her about it though, embarrassment seeping through you along with last night’s memories. you couldn’t even believe yourself, asking your best friend to be your fake girlfriend. let alone a girl you knew you had been avoiding for two months.

you groan into your pillow, letting your poor decisions rack over your head. you couldn’t deny the way your pace quickened at the thought of paige being your girlfriend, even if it wasn’t real. everyone thought it was. you push the thought away, immediately feeling quilty for thinking of your best friend that way.

you lift your head when you feel a gentle knock on your half-opened bedroom door. you see paige, standing in all her glory. she has a sweat set on, long blonde hair down and wavy, adorning her shoulders. if your heart wasn’t skipping beats before, it certainly was now.

“paige! hi!” your speech is breathless and short, shocked to see her in your apartment. you hope she didn’t catch you in your little moment, unaware of how long she’s been here. you remember that you’re half-naked under the covers, making note to keep them up and above your chest. it’s nothing she hasn’t seen before probably, but it’s different now.

“hey, i didn’t mean to wake you up or anything. jus wanted to check on you.”

“oh um, i’m good. yeah, good.” you struggle to find your words between the way she takes your breath away and how nervous you are. get it together. “how are you?”

“oh y’know, i’m good. hey i wanted to ask you something, i don’t know if you’ll really remember but.. last night bianca said something about how you and me-” she’s cut off by the sound of your phone ringing, bianca’s name flashing across your screen. paige shamelessly looks, mood immediately dropping.

much like bianca never liked paige, paige never liked bianca. your best friend always felt as if you were too good for her and deserved better. she still believes that. she believes she can be your better.

your eyes linger a little longer than paige would’ve hoped, taking note of your conflicted and angered expression.

“hey, since i woke you up you should let me buy you some coffee. i can get you breakfast too.”

you ended up accepting her offer, the two of you spending a few hours together getting coffee and walking around in town. as soon as you got back to your apartment, paige’s phone started going crazy with calls from her teammates, kk in particular.

she answered, leaning against your kitchen counter and propping her phone up. it didn’t go unnoticed how she filled your space so naturally. you were really glad the new situation you found yourselves in didn’t make anything awkward between the two of you.

not yet at least.

“PAIGE- it’s real right? the news?”

“what news?”

“girl boo don’t play right now- you and princess!”

while you and paige were out, you came up with a few rules for your ‘relationship.’ one of those was that it was a sworn secret between only the two of you, no one else. it meant you’d both have to lie to your friends, even those closest to you, but you couldn’t risk a slip up. the thought of everyone finding out you plotted an entire fake relationship just to make your ex jealous horrified you— you couldn’t let her win.

“oh yeah, real stuff.” she angled her phone towards you as you packed away some minimal groceries. kk caught glimpse of you and screamed, cheering about how her ‘two favorite people are together!’

“ok so boom- you guys should come over to the team dorm tonight. we’re throwing you a couples welcoming party!”

“a what?!”

“paige girl just come. and bring your new cute girlfriend with you. we love you princess!”

“i love you kk!”

after the call ended you and paige decided to lounge around, watching a couple of movies and catching up on the latest trends. it made you happy to just have her around, finding yourself falling back into your close bond with her.

she was happy too, esthetic really. after two months of you distancing yourself and pushing her away, she was finally back to normal with you. as close to normal as you can get with your best-friend-turned-fake-girlfriend. she missed being in your apartment, rummaging through all your dvd movies she’s seen a million times already. she missed your soft blankets and the signature scent of your home that she couldn’t find anywhere else. it was everything that made you, you.

eventually the two of you had to get ready. your process was a bit longer than hers, but she still got up when you did. you tossed her a slightly nicer, more presentable outfit she left at your place after a group sleepover once. you disappeared after that, starting your own routine.

“i’m bored,” she walks into your bathroom, leaning against the counter as she watches you. you sneak a glance at her, noticing her expression.

“you can leave before me, s’not a big deal.”

“i think it’d be weird if we didn’t show up together for our inauguration party.”

“oh, right. you’re right.”

she goes silent again, watching as you put the finishing touches on your makeup and adjust your clothes. she shamelessly admires you while you’re not paying attention, entranced by the way you look. even by the way your chest rises with each breath.

“are we going to talk about it?”

“i thought we went over everything this morning?”

“no not that. i’m talking about what bianca said last night. about you and me sneaking around.” you pause, staring your own reflection in the eye. you can’t make eye contact with her out of fear you’ll give yourself away so you just pretend to touch up a spot on your chin.

“it’s nothing really. she was just paranoid. she said that about all my friends,” it wasn’t a complete lie, bianca had suspicions of each of your friends. paige though, she garnered the majority of bianca’s accusations. you couldn’t tell her she’s the reason you and bianca broke up. paige feels her heart sink a bit and she knows it’s wrong. it’s wrong to want bianca be jealous and insecure of the relationship you have with paige, at least while you two were together. but you’re not together anymore. you’re with paige now. in a sense.

“oh, alright. makes sense i guess.”

as soon as paige pushes you through the door of her dorm, party confetti and party horns are in your face. it’s loud, everyone either blowing some whistle or simply cheering. you didn’t think your new public status with paige would excite them so much.

“happy one day anniversary yall!! that we know of..” kk flashes both of you dirty looks, her way of scolding you for not telling everyone sooner. they’re oblivious to the fact that it would’ve been impossible to let this know, considering it was completely new for you and paige as well.

balloons adorn the walls and ceiling, a small cake rests on the counter, neon lights everywhere, they really went all out. there’s even a banner with your and paige’s ship name on it.

“guys..”

“our fav couple deserves nothing but the best,” azzi smiles and pats your shoulder, pulling you with her as everyone floods the kitchen. she serves you your favorite at home drink, liquid swishing as you take a swig. you were gonna need it.

“i don’t know who asked who, but one of yall just won me fifty bucks,” nika grins, showing her venmo to everyone. kk rolls her eyes, clueing that she was probably the one on the other end of that bet.

“you guys made a bet on when we’d get together?” you ask, completely unaware of why this was even a thing.

“months ago.”

paige is frozen, face red as she stands statue still. every once in awhile she’d drop a hint at her admiration for you and she really hopes no one says anything, all completely unaware you don’t actually know paige has real feelings for you. she was stressed, positive she was going to break out in a sweat.

“ok enough of that. let’s eat some cake!” she tries to avert the conversation, giving kk a warning glare and nudging nika with her elbow. she couldn’t have anything going wrong tonight. or ever, really.

amari cuts the cake, serving everyone an equal slice. everyone found a spot in the living room, you cozying up next to paige on the couch. you were sitting between her legs, back to her chest as everyone gathered.

“so how’d it happen?”

“probably during sex or something-”

“no kk, bad.” ice scolds, watching kk give her best puppy dog eyes. you couldn’t believe how over the moon everyone was about it, never having heard any romantic innuendoes connecting you to paige.

“we were just hanging out, like usual. it kinda just happened.”

“how long ago?”

“uh, a few weeks ago.”

you’re glad paige decided to take the lead on answering the questions. they came up with them like rapid fire, some of them completely random. most of those came from kk and ice though.

“well, we’re glad it finally happened. we were beginning to think paige would never do it.”

that shocks you and stills paige, both of your breaths hitching, you didn’t want to jump to conclusions about what caroline was saying but it was hard not to, it was an outright insinuation of paige having romantic feelings for you. she knew it too, not sure on how she was going to get herself out of it. nika notices paige’s expression, narrowing her eyes in her direction.

“well, it’s a shame what bianca is saying about you online. you didn’t actually cheat on her right?”

“of course she didn’t. bianca’s just a bitch.” paige’s tone is filled with malice, mood swinging at the mention of your ex. you didn’t expect such a vulgar response from her, eyebrows furrowing in mixed emotions.

“paige-”

“bianca’s an insecure person that deserves to rot alone.”

you immediately nudge her, silencing her unfiltered thoughts. you didn’t know why she was acting like this, having very seldom seen this side of her.

everyone becomes distracted quickly, giving you the opportunity to address her hostility.

“okay, chill. what’s wrong with you?”

“nothing. jus defending you. is that a problem?”

“defending me from what, paige? the ghost of christmas past?”

at that she’s silent, fully aware that you’re right. bianca isn’t here and yet she’s still saying all these things. part of paige, the irrational part, gets upset at the way you still defend bianca. the more rational side empathizes with you, understanding that you’re probably still healing.

“yeah, alright. fine. my bad.”

you figure that’s the best apology you’ll get from her so you take it. phasing back to reality around you, you notice everyone has dispersed into groups, each one louder than the next. you and paige mingle, sticking together. eventually after an hour you find yourselves alone, paige creating an invisible protective barrier around you. her aura surrounds you and you swear you can almost feel it.

“enjoying the party?” the gives you flashbacks to last night when she asked nearly the same question, when things were simple.

“it’s good. never thought i’d go to a party celebrating something i made up though. i feel bad, lying to all of them.”

“they’ll be okay.”

it’s in this moment you realize eventually this will have to end. the reality of paige’s breath fanning your face, her pulse against your own, eyes locked with yours, makes you want to sink in on yourself. this can’t last forever, eventually it’ll end. you’ll ‘break up’ and possibly lose your close friendship with all the women in the room, all the women you’ve grown to love like family.

the thought itself makes you want to pull away, you can hardly stand to look paige in the eye. you already feel the barrier she’s built around you breaking, shattering to the ground in a million pieces. you want to run and never look back, never check to see if she’s following. but you don’t, you can’t. your heart sinks, stomach dropping and you feel sick.

you realize, truthfully and honestly, that you made the wrong decision.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

UMMMM PLOT PROGRSS IDK??!!!!!

i love you guys

make good decisions!!! (cough cough celeste)

#paige bueckers #paige buckets #uconn wbb #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #lgbtq #lgbtqia #wlw slay #wlw yearning #wlw post #wlw angst #angst #fake dating #lesbian #bisexual

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diahire · 15 hours

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Anyways I wrote this post on my private blog but decided I'll share it with the whole fandom and add a few more thoughts to really throw salt about this down on the salt pile with the rest of the Villain fans. (This post isn't for the hero stans, I'm not here to argue with you guys, if you like the ending good for you! I wish that could be me!) I thought about it all night and tbh its literally the worst outcome for the entire manga imo? Because it doesn't feel like the resolution everyone was fighting for can be reached now, or as if Hori's gonna just gloss over it the same way and pretend its a happy ending. (Sorry if I sound like a hater, I sung his praises and trusted him so much so excuse me if my trust has been completely shattered with this) This post sums up a lot of my feelings on the last chapter Surrounding AFO and stuff like that, which was actually satisfying. But oh my lord, everything else is one of the most bitter let downs I've ever seen in any piece of media ever. I'd like to believe the fan theories that this isn't it for the LoV are true but tbh I refuse to be fooled by Hori again so at this point I'm actually fairly positive that the league is dead save for Mr Compress who, I guess, will just be spending the rest of his life ass-cheekless and in jail. (Unless we're meant to think Compress has been executed or is going to be. Who knows. Wouldn't be surprised at this point.)

Like I mentioned, I think the whole "Give Shigaraki back. His friends are waiting for him" thing was alluding to the fate of the League. It would explain why we haven't seen them again. Why Ochaco was the only one shown to be lifted into the helicopter to the hospital even though Himiko should have been right there with her. I made a post about it back then saying how worried I was that they didn't show or even mention Himiko at that point. Well, yeah, my fears of the worst I think were confirmed there. Like the reality here seems to be that Hori literally directly pulled a bury your gays on her. Like ?? I think its probably also safe to say Spinner is likely already dead. We've seen or heard nothing from him since he went down either. Due to Shigaraki's final words I want to think maybe he's not but at the same time I can't imagine him being the sole survivor. Unfortunately, this means Dabi is likely already dead as well. I'm low key taking a little bit of spiteful satisfaction in the fact that if Dabi has died his last words were telling his family to fuck off and honestly, good for him. Its like he said. This was all lip service and saving face and why did it have to go so far / take so long for anyone to even try? Why did he have to burn himself to death for his family to give him the bare minimum of acknowledgement? He spent his entire childhood literally crying and begging for it and being harshly rejected because the moment his dad found out he was disabled he pulled the rug out from under him and decided his existance was pointless. He spent the entire battle desperately trying to get his father to recognize him and talk to him and see that he wasn't a worthless son and could have done so much had he not done epic ableism to him (which, yeah we agreed this was correct within the narrative, omg!) and all Endeavor did was avoid him until he was backed into a corner and couldn't ignore / avoid him anymore, which is at large why Dabi was so badly injured in the first place. This isnt a W for the heroes or for Endeavor anymore. Once again our great hero drove his literal disabled abuse victim son to death in a desperate attempt to receive some type of validation from him. The easiest thing in the world for Endeavor to have ever give him and the one thing he really wanted was once again withheld from him until it was too late. A fucking "Sorry I didn't come to Sekoto Peak :(" isn't good enough anymore. Like I say this as someone who isn't even an Endeavor hater, the opposite, that just isn't good enough anymore. I mean, wow, Himiko and Shigaraki both essentially "sacrificed" themselves for the purity of people who actually didn't really care about them and actually just failed them one last time in the grand scheme of things so I just don't see how I'm suppose to really feel like its a satisfying outcome for them. We can't let our little centrist heroes get blood on their hands, what a crappy cliche way to end their stories. The tragic, outcast, well intentioned extremist lefty "villains" self destruct so the designated, privileged "good guys" don't need to feel any guilt or real consequences for their deaths or weight of the things they were trying to achieve. (Even though they are undeniably responsible!) Ugh, genuinely its so gut wrenching that all Shigaraki wanted in his last moments was for Spinner to know that he died trying. Like I'm sorry but they weren't "saved" as they should have been and as Hori had been suggesting to this entire time. I understand every one of them was shown to have achieved some morbid, tragic sense of peace before they died but I just hate that's all they got. Himiko and Shigaraki let themselves die ultimately because people said some nice words to them and did the bare minimum for them that no hero would ever do before. How far they had to go to get the bare minimum out of some fucking kids no less, not even actual licensed heroes, bruh like. Yeah, such a win for the heroes... /s.

I think a lot people miss the fact that the reason the LoV wanted to "destroy" the world was to create a better one, and this has a lot of tragic impact when characters like Spinner are canonly being murdered and mutilated in literal hate crimes to such an extent Spinner was unable to leave his house back in his home village without being attacked. But of course this is fine cause Shoji moved to the big city and is going to become a licensed hero one day so that'll def end all racism toward mutant presenting quirks, no flaws in that logic at all, why didn't Spinner just think of that himself. /s

I mean this is really just a salty rant because I know other people have articulated, I think, better than me, why this ending sucks ass, sends a crappy message, shits all over the whole narrative of Izuku and his friends becoming "The worlds greatest heroes" and overall feels to be out of the left field, and honestly is just a lazy and bitter cop-out with all the build up surrounding it and the fact that it absolutely DOESN'T tackle or resolve any of the social issues that the series has done nothing but make commentary on and that the LoV were all tragic victims to, which is why they took up the fight with the heroes in the first place. (Aka, government dogs, literally we've learned all of Hero society basically exists as a distraction and a shitty band aide for the oppression and demonization of people with quirks by governments who refused to actually adapt to the society of the supernatural and instead continued to systematically oppress people who were considered to fall outside of the social norm which is now more rigid than ever because society becoming supernatural should have REMOVED all said oppressive "norms" but instead it heightened them because people in power won't/wouldn't let go of what they considered "normal" no matter how outdated and defunct that "normal" was. ) Anyway, yeah, no the status quo has been upheld and the rebellious minorities who fought so hard to end their oppression have been killed and will surely be forgotten as little more than crazy terrorists. Huzza, the day is saved! /s

Idk man. I suppose we can hope that the UA kids put measures in place to try and correct hero society through taking on board the villains pain and their rightful and just complaints moving forward but IMO that feels unrealistic now because now they're dead. The war is won, history is written by the victors and it will be much more convenient to everyone WHO ARE STILL IN CHARGE (The UA kids are still kids who are still in school mind you, they have no real say or power in anything.) to just continue as normal as if we weren't given a clear idea that as long as hero society exists things will not improve for Meta-humans and their rights and the unfair prejudices against people and their quirks so... Yay.

But hehe funny super hero manga, yay the villains were defeated and the day was saved, the rain stopped, the sun is shining and the birds are singing! -powerpuff girls animated heart -

#bnha manga spoilers #bnha #mha #my hero academia #league of villains #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #dabi #himiko toga #touya todoroki #izuku midoriya #afo #Again I hope people saying there is a twist coming are right but man I doubt #catch me being cringe and having big feels about a manga on main

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amiharana · 1 year

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doing a replay of botw and I'm at the part where I need to sneak through the yiga hideout, and my sibling starts walking around the house announcing "whump hurt comfort revalink oneshot where link tries to infiltrate the yiga but he really goes through it, so revali comes to rescue him and then they hug" AJDBAJDB but honestly they're so real for that and I would be so down to read that 😭

i left this ask in my inbox for a while because i was turning it over in my head like a rotisserie chicken and even tho ur sibling is on to something i cannot for the life of me figure out what sort of context this would make sense in i'm sawry ✋😭 i was really that meme with the confused blond woman and a bunch of math equations around her head bc like.......

i just have so many questions like is this taking place pre- or post-calamity? that's going to be the huge determiner for the reason why i'd write link infiltrating the yiga clan. for me it would make sense pre-calamity if the yiga stole the thunder helm or were just being shitheads, but then we'd have to figure out why revali got dragged along for the stealth mission (the other champions were already there or were they called? is he scouting? backup? recon?). post-calamity is more difficult to figure a logical reason why because the natural assumption would be the in-game yiga infiltration where link needs to get the thunder helm back OR post-botw champions revived au where maybe the yiga are acting up so the champions gotta go in and beat their asses. the first would be difficult to write because revali is dead at the moment LOL and is also a ghost who can't remain outside his divine beast for longer than a few seconds, and the latter idea i feel requires carefully thought-out pacing, build-up, and plot to execute well 😭 idk like do y'all really expect daruk to be good at a stealth mission in that environment u know his ass is gonna get pushed and he'll be rolling all the way down karusa valley back down into gerudo desert.

idk i'm also interested to see how this idea would play out but i'm picking it apart with my brain rn and my brain is gonna continue doing that for a while i think. we're going to dissect this a little more and let it sit outside in the sun to marinate for a bit before come back to it, unless you'd like to have ur sibling hit my line and tell me more about their fic idea bc i wanna dissect ur sibling's brain on this too

#revalink #loz #botw #loz botw #legend of zelda #amihan's revalinkverse #ask #cryiling #for later #i promise u i'll return to this someday but for now i feel like the nintendogs when u try to teach them their names by calling them #but if they don't understand you they just be like ???#everyone else should also sound off their thoughts on this one that way i can see where everything connects #dissecting ur idea rn #They Did Surgery on a Revalink Idea #i'm genuinely so interested in reading and even writing this but the image in my head is not clear enough to be written #i need more context and info to work off of idk

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velvetydream · 3 months

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꒰ :🥀 [ Second chances ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : Lucifer didn't think he would ever have the chance at love again, but then he met you and got to know you after the destruction of the Hotel.

Pairing : Lucifer x Reader

Word count : 2239 Words

Genre : Fluff, Romance

Warnings ➵ Spoilers for EP 8!!

a/n : I love him sm, he deserves the world, a big hug and a smooch to the cheek

Also legit the first part of this barely has any interactions but eh- idk where I was going with this-

Might make this into a series, idk yet.. Also definitely one of my more boring and bad works sadly..

┌───────────────────────── · · · · ♡

Coming back to the hotel from an outing in the city, you were met with chaos. Everyone was running around, Razzle and Dazzle were hanging up a banner reading > Welcome Daddy < what was happening? Ducking your head as Sir Pentious darts past you, before making your way over to Charlie.

"Sweetheart, what's happening?" Laying your hand softly on Charlie's shoulder, her hair flies around as she comes to face you. You were one of the first people to join the hotel back then, having grown close to Charlie over that time, she viewed you as a parent figure, while you viewed her like a daughter. "My dad is coming and everything has to be perfect! He has to be assured he can trust me and help me!" That explained a lot, especially why Charlie was so stressed. Pulling her into a hug now, your hand softly gliding over her head, as you mutter how she should not stress too much and that she is doing amazing. Noticing how her body was relaxing against your own, you were glad to have calmed her down at least a little bit.

After helping the others a bit more, it was finally time. Charlie swept her hands on her jacket, before opening the door. A bright choice sounding, as Lucifer pulls his daughter into a tight hug. Before saying hello to Keekee, Razzle and Dazzle. He was.. different than everyone probably though.

Watching Alastor talk to Lucifer now, they for sure could not stand the other one, this would be fun. Charlie now introduced Vaggie to him, which made you smile a little bit when Lucifer took her into his arms. The rest was quickly introduced before Charlie pulled you beside her. "And this is Y/N, Dad! They really helped me a lot already, of course like anyone else here too!" Fumbling around with her words a bit, you softly lay your hand on Charlie's shoulder. "We know what you mean dear, Charlie is an amazing girl, we are really proud of her." Your eyes were on Charlie, before greeting Lucifer correctly.

It was quiet for a second before a crash could be heard. Oh shit.. For a few minutes, the banter between Alastor and Lucifer continued on, making you sigh as you sat down beside Angel. This way going great huh? Vaggie was also at the end of her nerves right now. As they were seemingly coming to an end finally, the doors slammed open and some short blonde lady walked in as if she owned this place. Being introduced to her soon, you decide to tag along with Charlie and the others to show her dad around.

You were simply following the others, listening to Charlie nervously ramble on, only glancing over your shoulder for a second as Husker stopped Alastor, but you decided to not give it another thought.

Arriving at the balcony, you and Vaggie stand back, as Charlie and her dad talk. But too soon they were interrupted as some debris was thrown into the hotel and shook the whole building. Rushing through the portal, you guys are back in the foyer of the hotel, looking around for an answer. Mimzy the woman from before finally explained what was happening, you rolled your eyes, how amazing. Too busy with making sure you saw everyone safe, you weren't seeing the debris falling your way. Before you knew it you were swept off your feet, as Lucifer saved you from being smashed by the debris, setting you down on your feet again softly, as his wings disappear again.

"You see now Charlie what I mean? Those sinners destroy everything! They fall into your home and destroy it, they aren't grateful for anything!" Talking to Charlie now, as Alastor finally decided to step in and fight off those damned loan sharks, before telling the woman to disappear. Watching Charlie and her dad now, as you were standing beside Alastor, a frown visible on your face. She worked so hard for this, why couldn't he believe in her? Though quickly everything explained itself and both of them seemed to finally makeup, a tear slipping from your eye from how beautiful this moment was.

"All right.. I'll get you that meeting but.. once in heaven you're alone I.. can't come with you." Lucifer told Charlie, before disappearing in a red cloud.

That was now a month ago. Right now everyone was getting ready for that damned extermination. Sadly Charlie's conversation with Heaven didn't do anything, on top of that the tension in the whole group grew, with Vaggie being an old exterminator. But that was all over now, as the whole group decided to have one last drink the night before the big battle. You were talking with Husker, as Angel was with Cherri, Alastor and Niffty looking upon everyone and Charlie with Vaggie nowhere to be seen. And of course, Sir Pentious trying to strike up a conversation with Cherri. You hoped everything would go well tomorrow and that no one would die.

The morning arrived, and everyone was gathered outside to protect the hotel, to protect Charlie's dream. Everyone was ready for this.

Almost everything seemed to go down in a wink, the hotel was in shambles, Alastor was missing - assumingly dead, Sir Pentious gave his life for the group and Adam was killed. Now the rebuild of the hotel was in full swing, everyone was helping, even Cherri who wasn't even a resident of the hotel yet. Lucifer also stayed to help his daughter and somehow convinced her to let him have a room too and stay with the group.

"Have you seen Charlie? Some new shipments came." The blonde was approaching you now, his coat and hat off, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Raising to your feet from where you were kneeling to work on some nails, you swept some sweat from your forehead before turning to Lucifer. "She and Vaggie went to town real quick for some errands, but she told me where to put them, let me show you." Laying the hammer down on one of the many workbenches, you go accept the shipments, before showing Lucifer the way.

You and him had quite a few conversations over the last few days, with you being a parent figure for Charlie and him being her father, you two talked a lot about how well she is doing. What you didn't notice were the fleeting glances the king of hell threw your way every now and then.

"She told me to just put it here." Opening the door to a little cabinet now on the first floor of the hotel in the foyer. This was the first thing finished, right now the works were on the upper rooms. Putting down the box you were carrying on the shelf, Lucifer followed where you put the other box, before thanking you for helping him out. "Soo.. The hotel is coming together rather nicely huh?" Looking over to you with his red eyes now, as you close the door, a bit confused he was striking up a conversation right now. "Yeah, everyone is doing so amazingly, I'm glad we got so much help.. If we don't look at Niffty punching holes in the new floor trying to catch roaches.." At least some things were apparently not changing and stayed the same.

"Say.. when the hotel is finished would you perhaps.. you know.. maybe.. be interested in a date?" Stopping in your tracks now, you blink a few times. Did you just hear correctly? The Lucifer Morningstar, the king of hell just asked you for a date? Turning your head around now, your cheeks slowly become a crimson-red color. Looking at him, he didn't really look different, his cheeks red, as he was sheepishly playing with his sleeves. "You want to go on a date with me?" Raising his eyes to meet yours, he simply nods. "To be honest with you, you caught my eye the day I first came here but.. then all this happened and we never really got to talk and I was worried you would think I'm weird for asking, so I thought I should maybe wait a bit-" He was rambling on, probably from how nervous he was to ask you out. After his ex-wife left him, he didn't really date anyone after that, so it's been a while since he has ever asked someone for a date. "I would love to. Thank you for asking me." Laying your hand softly over his, giving it a soft reassuring squeeze to tell him not to worry too much. Sadly the moment was cut short, when Angel called for you, having someone questions about about paint.

Lucifer's eyes followed you now, the smile on his face not being able to be hidden now, fist-pumping the air happily over how he finally asked you. Charlie came back that moment and looked a little bit more than worried at her father, but overall no new behavior from him.

The hotel was soon finished, Alastor also came back, making at least Charlie relieved that he was still alive, Husker and Lucifer didn't seem so pleased with that fact, but they would get over it.

So now, it was time for your date with Lucifer. Charlie was thrilled when she heard you would be going on a date with her dad, at first you were rather worried about how she would react, but she was happy that her dad was trying to find love again. Making sure your hair was sitting right and your clothes were wrinkle-free, when a knock sounded at your door. Taking one last breath, you open it and are met with Lucifer. His hat was gone and he was wearing a white suit, similar to what he normally wore but more suitable for a fancy dinner - as fancy as a dinner in hell can be.

"You look amazing! Oh my! Look at you!" Lucifer was throwing compliments at you left and right, before he caught himself again, straightened his jacket, and then extended his arm for you to take. "Thank you, you also look amazing tonight Lucifer." Taking his arm now, he guides you two to the elevators which take you down to the foyer. Charlie was trying subtly to look at you two, but failing miserably. "Charlie is staring at us and almost crying.." Whispering to Lucifer now, he just nods, making sure to throw Vaggie a begging look to take care of Charlie, as you two leave the hotel. He decided to take you to the more finer side of Pentagram City, where rather expensive shops and restaurants were and which were less bloody.

"Here we are! It's the finest one I know around here!" Leading you inside, it was a big place. The restaurant had a fountain in the middle and had many plants all around the wide place. Marble floors, stone walls were adorned with gold elements and gold was seen all throughout the place. This was definitely an expensive place by the looks of it. A waiter leading you to a table no, you were sure was the best one in the whole restaurant. It was by a wide window, having a good look down the city, in the distance you could even see the hotel slightly, especially the big sign reading Hazbin Hotel.

"This place is beautiful but.. it looks rather expensive, are you sure this is okay?" Of course you knew who Lucifer was and he could basically afford anything in this whole city and do anything he wanted, you just wanted to make sure. Assuring you now that you shall not worry about something like that. Ordering food and enjoying the meal together, it was a nice evening. Everything goes by smoothly and you and Lucifer finally get around to know each other better. Sadly the dinner was over too quickly, Lucifer leading you back to the hotel now, while telling you a story from Charlie's childhood, which made you giggle. He truly was a gentleman and had a pure heart, he cared so much about Charlie.

"So.. would you.. repeat this another time? I mean only if you also enjoyed it! I of course did enjoy it! I mean you're amazing and-" Standing in front of your room now, you silence him with a soft kiss to the cheek, before looking at him softly fixing his suit. "I would love to Luci, I enjoyed this evening with you alot." Raising your eyes again to meet his, you can't help but let out a giggle at his expression. Eyes blown wide, mouth open and cheeks blazing red. "Great! Yeah! Woah! Me too! Especially the food, poah that was amazing! And the place was really worth it! Was it to your liking? I really hope so because-" Pulling him down by his suit now, your lips softly meeting his, eyes closed, before seperating again as you look at him. "Sorry.. You were rambling so nervously.. Please don't worry, I mean it when I say loved tonight.. Now sleep well Luci." Planting another kiss to his cheek, you enter your room, closing the door behind yourself.

You can help but smile at his little giggles as he skips down the hallway to his own room now. He was something, but you were looking forward to more dates that would follow this one.

#hazbin #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer imagine #hazbin lucifer imagine #lucifer magne #lucifer magne x reader

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ellecdc · 2 months

Note

Part two of feisty slytherin reader where it’s just the boys being like kinda in love with reader and everything you can pick how reader responds

this ended up taking me way longer to complete than I thought it would! it also ended up way longer than usual. here's the lead up to our infamous poly!marauders x feisty!slytherin reader!!! 🫶

poly!marauders x feisty, fem slytherin!reader CW: head injury - not graphic or detailed but mentions blood.

“Okay Moony, if you’re going to help us win over Y/N, you should know she does not like dramatic public displays of appreciation.” James said sagely as he walked into their shared dorm room.

Remus spared Sirius a confused look from his seat in the chair, but from the way James was currently rubbing his arm Sirius had a pretty good idea of what just took place.

“Yeah, erm, I don’t think you have to worry about that with me, bubs. Thanks for the heads up though.” Remus added bemusedly.

“Let me guess.” Sirius taunted, rolling over onto his stomach so that he faced James. “The charmed roses following her around the halls wasn’t a hit?”

“No, but she did...” He sulked, pulling his uniform shirt off to expose a small albeit quite red welt on his upper arm.

“Awe, poor Jamie. Come here bubs.” Remus cooed at him, opening his arms to invite the boy into his lap.

James obliged all too willingly and snuggled up to the werewolf like he was a small toddler and not a giant beefy man-baby.

“Don’t mollify him when he’s out here botching our grand plans to woo the girl of our dreams.” Sirius said, causing Remus to roll his eyes and James to scoff indignantly.

“Well at least I’m working on it! What are you doing to woo her?” James retaliated.

Sirius offered him a wolfish grin. “Oh, I’ve got a little trick up my sleeve.”

You had to get out of the castle. You could still feel everyone’s eyes on you, ogling you like you were some kind of freakshow.

You don’t know what kind of game those Gryffindor’s were trying to play, but you were not about to be the butt of whatever sodding joke this was.

Roses, really? Charmed to follow you around the castle as Potter smirked from the sidelines. Did he have any idea how humiliating that was?

So, yeah. You walloped him. In the arm. With your fist. Hard. But what else were you supposed to do!? You’d confronted him and demanded that he end the charm and all he said was ‘you look so cute when your nose scrunches up like that’.

He and Black have always been a bother – seemingly having taken some kind of interest in you for whatever reason. Lupin had always been more reasonable; one would think that he’d have evened those two out during their relationship, but apparently that was an impossible task. You supposed it was because he was all but one man.

But lately, even he was starting to stare at you a little too long, smile a little too softly, find too many excuses to be in your vicinity. It was infuriating.

So, you were outside.

It was nice outside.

Well, it was nice enough outside.

You packed yourself some snacks in your book bag, two blankets and an extra jumper to go sit by the Black Lake. You figured you should be able to enjoy some peace and quiet out here on your own.

You unfolded one of the blankets to lay onto the ground before sitting on it and then laid the second blanket over your lap. You could hear other students on the grounds in the distance and the soothing sound of the water lapping gently against the shore.

As luck would have it, a certain dog with long-black hair would set out to disrupt that.

“What are you doing here?” You asked the dog as it approached you calmly. You wondered for a moment if you should be scared before it stopped at the edge of your blanket to sit and tilt its head at you, his tongue falling out of his mouth haphazardly.

He didn’t look too scary, ignoring his size.

You craned your neck to look around, checking if perhaps he was here with someone, but it appeared that you were, in fact, alone on this side of the lake.

You felt something cold and wet nudge your pinkie, and you turned to see that the dog had laid down beside you with his head between his paws, nose next to your hand.

“If I pet you, are you going to bite me?” You asked him. He answered by nudging your hand again and offering it a little lick.

“You better not have fleas.” You muttered as you scratched behind the dog’s ears. You would have sworn he had furrowed his eyebrows at your comment if dogs could do such a thing. You noticed then that the dog had startling silver-blue eyes.

“Where are your people?” You asked, glad no one was around to see you conversing with a dog. He answered you by rolling over for belly rubs.

You scoffed out a laugh but acquiesced. “Fine, you can stay. But I came out here for peace and quiet, ‘kay?”

The dog seemed fine with that plan and let you read through two chapters of your book, only interrupting every paragraph or so for more pets. Eventually however, it grew too cold, and you decided to pack up.

Confirming your suspicions, the dog began to follow you towards the castle. You pretended like you hadn’t noticed or perhaps just didn’t care until you were near the greenhouses.

“For future reference, Black,” you said, turning to the dog who seemed to pause mid-step as you considered him. “I really am more of a cat person.” You smirked, turning to walk back to the castle alone.

“Here, let me get that for you.” James said, opening the door for you rather chivalrously in Sirius’ opinion.

“I’m not a delicate flower, Potter, I can open a door.” You muttered angrily, storming past him into the classroom.

James deflated a little as he followed you in, but perked up when Remus placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“I thought that was very sweet of you, Jamie.” He placated.

James gave him a half smile in response. “Thanks Moons.”

“I mean, what are we supposed to do? What bird doesn’t like dogs!?” Sirius grumbled, opting to ignore James’ whining.

“Don’t call her a bird, Sirius.” Remus chided.

“Probably didn’t help you’re a big ol’ mangy mutt.” James muttered petulantly.

“Oi!” Sirius called. “That’s not what you say when Padfoot snuggles you to sleep.”

James had the good graces to turn a little red at that.

Their conversation was interrupted (quite rudely if you asked Sirius) by Professor McGonagall as she began the instructions for today’s Transfiguration lesson: turning buttons into butterflies.

Sirius stole a concerned glance towards James to see Remus doing the same; they were horrified to see a mischievous look adorning their boyfriend’s face.

“Prongs...” Sirius warned, whilst Remus whispered a “remember what we talked about.”

But they both knew it was too late; there was no stopping him once James set his mind to something.

Sirius is quite sure it was the fourth butterfly that did you in; you seemed to consider the first a fluke, the second was annoying, the third made you suspicious, but by the fourth you’d had enough.

With little to no warning you turned and lobbed a large hard-covered tome at the group.

“I don’t know which of you tossers are behind this, but it reeks of Potter. So help me gods I will gut you and string you up to the rafters from your intestines if you don’t leave me alone!” You screeched.

“But how else will you know I’m crazy about you?” James pouted, causing you to groan exasperatedly.

“If you’re looking for some cutesy princess who will swoon at your sodding roses and butterflies, then you’ve got the wrong witch.” You spat.

Sirius smirked. “Oh, we have exactly the right witch.”

“I swear to Circe if you don’t leave me alone, I’ll sic Barty on you.” You threatened.

Sirius and James both scoffed whilst Remus smirked.

“Please dollface, you insult me. I’m not afraid of Junior.” Sirius taunted.

You narrowed your eyes at him menacingly before realization dawned on you. “Fine.” You said simply, giving Sirius a distinct uneasy feeling. “Perhaps I’ll tell Regulus.”

Sirius slammed his fist on the table and leaned forward. “You wouldn’t.” He seethed.

You smirked deviously. “Just try me, Black.” You sneered in response.

Did...did Sirius have a degradation kink?

Sirius was ashamed to admit that he had to take a very cold shower after that.

You had been sitting in the library trying to work on your Potions essay. You had felt fairly safe here seeing as the Gryffindor’s (at least the most problematic ones) had been sanctioned from using the library during quiet study hours on account of their typical foolishness.

Except one.

“Mind if I sit here?” Lupin’s lilting voice sounded from your right side before he sat down without waiting for your response.

“Why bother asking if you were just going to sit anyways?” You grumbled.

“Well, it was the polite thing to do.” He said, turning to face you. You held his gaze (his gaze, your glare) until he finally sighed. “I’ll leave if you want me to.”

You considered him for a moment. You couldn’t deny he was the least buffoonish out of the so-called Marauders though you’re not sure that amounted to much.

But he was quieter, kinder, softer around the edges. And he had been far more polite to you than his boyfriends.

“Are you going to flirt with me?”

One of Remus’ eyebrows (the one with the scar running through it, you noticed) raised expectantly as he considered you.

“Let me rephrase that.” You barked quickly, realizing your mistake perhaps a touch too late. “You may sit here, but if you flirt with me, I will stab you with my quill.” You punctuated your threat by blotting his hand which rested on the table with ink from the tip of your quill.

Remus smiled at the sight before returning his amber coloured gaze to yours. “Fair enough. I promise to try to restrain myself, but perhaps you ought to hold onto this hand for me just in case I slip up.” And he – the absolute sodding bastard – slid his left hand comfortably into your right.

You’d never seen someone make a move so assertively and smoothly before. There was nothing to say that any of this even affected Remus as he immediately turned his attention to his book. Was it hot in here? Your hand felt sweaty. Your throat felt tight. Your mouth was dry. Why didn’t you think to bring a bottle of water?!

“Erm,” you started, having to pause to clear your throat. “Just how am I supposed to get my work done with your hand in mine, Lupin?”

You had tried to sound threatening, but based off Remus’ smirk, you’d only managed to goad him further.

“You’re left-handed. Figure it out.”

These boys were going to be the death of you if you didn’t end up killing them first.

“You held her hand!?” James screeched in their dorm room that night whilst Remus smirked to himself. Sirius would make fun of James for his dramatics if he wasn’t just a pissed off about this.

“I’ve been working at this the longest out of either of you, and she lets you hold her hand?” He continued.

“She doesn’t like dogs,” Sirius grumbled, gesturing to himself, “she doesn’t like James. But the werewolf? Really. No offence Moons because I absolutely get the appeal.”

James snapped his fingers as he had a eureka moment. “I’ve got it! Remus; bite me!”

“James!” Remus scolded.

“It’s not fair.” James muttered as he fell onto his bed in defeat. “I’d be so good to her.”

Any ire from Sirius and Remus drained at that as they both moved to join their boyfriend on his bed.

“We know, bubs.” Remus conceded.

“We just...have to give her time. I’m sure she’ll come around, yeah? I mean, with Remus’ smooth moves, my undeniable charm, and your muscles? We’re unstoppable.” Sirius added, eliciting a smile from Remus and a gentle chuckle from James, though his usual light was diminished.

“We’ve just got to be patient, Jamie.” Remus concluded, causing James to groan.

“Patience.” He spat spitefully.

“A 'James ADHD Potter' special.” Sirius winked before kissing any further protests away from James’ lips.

“We’ve got Moony on our team now, bubs. We’re unstoppable.” He whispered, truly believing what he was saying.

If anyone could break through your hard candy-coating shell to reach the chocolate inside, it was certainly Remus Lupin.

You’d had the lovely idea of sitting outside on one of the few sunny days that Scotland got to see this time of year. Unfortunately, it seemed that everyone else had the same idea too.

A few Hufflepuffs were playing with a charmed muggle football, kicking it back and forth between the two of them and chasing after it when it opted to fuck off on its own. You didn’t understand the objective of the game, nor did you care to.

Remus and Peter Pettigrew sat on a bench not too far off playing a game of Wizarding Chess that, from where you were sitting, looked like Remus was winning.

You got so caught up in watching Lupin’s game with Pettigrew - in the way that the tendons in his wrist and hands flexed as he moved pieces across the board, and the way that his honey blonde curls fell in front of his eyes causing him to have to blow air upwards so he could see the board - that you noticed something flying at you far too late.

“Look out!” One of the dumb Hufflepuff’s shouted far too late as their charmed football soared into the side of your head, knocking you clean over where your head cracked painfully against a root of the tree you were sitting under.

You scrunched your eyes tight and tried to will your heart to start beating again and your lungs to cooperate, every part of your body seeming to have tensed out of instinct to protect itself.

“L/N! L/N! Come on, dove, open your eyes.” You heard a voice above you.

Why was the voice so worried? How long were your eyes closed? A gentle hand grabbed your chin and wiggled your head back and forth, causing you to hiss in pain.

“Sod...off.” You gritted through your teeth.

The voice chuckled and wiggled your chin once more. “There she is. Open your eyes for me.”

You hated being told what to do but decided to comply anyways.

You probably should have kept your eyes close because the sight made you feel dizzy for a completely different reason.

Hovering above your frame was Remus Lupin; his knees on the ground beside your elbow, one hand gripping your chin and the other gently moving hair away from your face and head.

“Atta girl.” He said with a smile.

“Get away from me.” You grumbled as you moved to sit up. Though Lupin hissed in protest, he helped you sit up nonetheless.

“Is...is she okay?” a timid voice spoke from somewhere behind Lupin’s shoulder causing his expression to darken considerably.

“You stupid wankers are so dead.” You spat as loudly as you could manage, though in your current state – that wasn’t very loud at all.

Your message was received loud and clear, however, as the two Hufflepuffs took off in fear.

“My sentiments exactly.” Lupin muttered as he turned back to you, jaw still tense.

You snorted indelicately as you brought a hand to your head. “Please, don’t tell me you actually care about me, Lupin.”

You hissed in pain as your hand came in contact with something warm and wet and slightly sticky. You pulled your hand back in front of you to inspect, only for Lupin to grab your hand rather harshly and wipe the blood away with a handkerchief.

“Is it so impossible to believe that we could actually care for you?” He muttered quietly, eyes focused on your hand, pointedly avoiding eye contact with you. You watched as his curls bounced with each wipe of his hand against yours. You thought of his gentle hands brushing hair away from your wound moments before. You thought of him begging you to open your eyes. You thought of him being the first one at your side when you were hurt.

And you thought about Black finding ways to be with you even when you staunchly refused his company. You thought of him taking time out of his day to tell you how ‘smoking hot’ you looked that day, even though he said it every day before that, too.

And you thought about Potter who always held the door for you, saved you a seat even though you never accepted it, showered you in affection even though it was public and quite embarrassing. And you thought of the way he always had a smile to give you, even when you gave him no reason to smile at all.

It wasn’t hard to imagine the three of them caring for anyone, quite frankly. Caring seemed to come second nature to those boys.

“No.” You admitted quietly. “It’s not impossible to believe that you could actually care. It’s just impossible to imagine why.”

He stopped rubbing at your hand and met your eye, seemingly contemplating what to say.

“Let’s get you to Madam Pomfrey.” He opted for. “Pete, let the boys know where I’ve gone when they’re finished with practice?” Lupin called over his shoulder.

“I can walk myself, Lupin.” You grumbled as he helped you up by your elbow.

“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled back. “You’re not a delicate flower, we know.”

The two of you more or less muttered back and forth to each other the entire way to the infirmary, Lupin supporting more of your weight than he likely needed too but you didn’t feel the need (nor desire) to complain.

Madam Pomfrey was in the middle of looking after a first year Potions class who accidently set off an explosion of incorrectly brewed Cure for Boils which ultimately left each student (and Professor Slughorn) covered head to toe in painful boils.

“Mr. Lupin, if you could clean the wound for me. And Miss. L/N, drink the pain potion. Do not leave until I’ve had a chance to do a proper examination, okay?” She ordered as you positioned yourself more comfortably on the bed after she determined you weren’t about to die (or currently crying, as most of the first years were).

You took the pain potion dutifully and placed it back on the table beside your bed before you startled at the sudden cold wet cloth on your head.

“You are not seriously doing this right now, are you?” You spat.

Remus’ eyebrows drew together as his hands continued on in their task. “You heard the matron; I’m supposed to clean it.”

“I can clean it myself, Lupin; I’ll conjure a mirror.” You argued, causing the scarred boy to scoff.

“I do what I’m told L/N, and quite frankly, the matron scares me more than you do.”

“I must be doing something wrong then.” You sighed, thinking you hadn’t said that loud enough to be heard, but a startled laugh escaped Lupin’s lips.

“Why do you act so volatile?” He asked amusedly.

“It’s not an act.”

“I call bullshit.”

“Well, you call wrong, then, Lupin. I’m an arse and I find everyone exhausting. Deal with it.” You snarked sharply.

Lupin breathed a laugh through his nose. “Maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner sometime, then.”

Rotten bastard and his smooth talk...

“WHERE IS SHE!?” a voice echoed through the corridor just outside the entrance to the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey needn’t even look up from the boil she was currently draining of puss to know who she was about to scold.

“Mr. Potter, I will have you banned from this infirmary so fast if you raise your voice above so much as a whisper, do not try me. That goes for you too, Mr. Black.” She barked; eyes still focused on the first year’s arm in front of her.

Sure enough, a mop of curly hair, impossibly more wild than usual due to the flight on his broom, poked around the privacy curtains a second before it was joined by a fuming looking Sirius Black.

Potter’s eyes flew to where Remus’ hands were positioned on your head and your stomach lurched at what looked like tears pooling in Potter’s eyes.

“Potter...please, erm, please don’t cry?” You asked awkwardly, leaning away from Remus’ touch as you suddenly became very uncomfortable with this amount of attention.

“She’s alright, Jamie.” Remus sighed, pulling you back over to him gently by the shoulder and continuing his prodding at your wound.

“Who did it?” Sirius spat, arms crossed defensively across his chest and jaw tight as he stared hard at the wound on your head. You were horrified to admit to yourself that he was hot. You’d never really seen it before, how all the girls in your year (and other years) fawned over the long-haired boy.

But he was currently standing in front of you still adorned in his quidditch gear, hair pulled back into a low bun - though he had many fly-aways on account of his recent time in the air - his cheeks still dusted pink from the assertion, and he was currently fuming on your behalf.

Yeah...he was hot.

“Easy.” Remus warned.

“Answer me!” Sirius spat back.

“Pads. I mean it, leave it.” Remus said with finality.

Your eyes darted nervously between the two boys currently staring each other down, but Potter’s eyes were still steadfast on you.

“Let me, Rem.” He finally said gently – the most gently you’d ever heard from the rambunctious boy as he gently moved Remus aside and took over.

“I’m okay, you know.” You offered, not liking how worked up these boys were currently over you.

“I know.” He agreed. “I just hate to see you hurt.”

“Why?”

“Yeah, why.” You pressed. James looked like you just asked him to calculate the distance between the galaxy of Andromeda and our solar system using the measurement of broomsticks.

“I... I don’t want to see you hurt?”

“You want to see Snape hurt.” You countered, causing James’ face to harden.

“Snape’s a tosser.” He muttered darkly.

“I’m not any nicer than Snape.”

“See, Y/N. You’re so smart and lovely and perfect, but you are way off on that front.” James said through a laugh. “Snape is prejudiced, vindictive, and a racist blood supremist. You’re just combative.” He explained, punctuating the word combative with a gentle boop of your nose.

You wanted to break his finger.

But that would be combative, and you would rather die than prove Potter right, so you opted to roll your eyes instead.

“Did they even hang around to see if she fucking survived or did they just take off to avoid detention?” Sirius spat at Remus, not looking any calmer than he did when he arrived.

“They stayed.” You answered tiredly. “They took off afterwards, and not to avoid detention, but to avoid me.”

“And me.” Remus muttered quietly, looking dangerously close to going back out there to find them himself.

“Did you threaten them?” Sirius asked severely, though you weren’t sure who exactly he had asked.

“Yes.” You and Lupin both answered exasperatedly.

Sirius looked between the two of you before letting out a sigh. “Fine, but if I run into them, I’m hexing them into oblivion.”

“Not if I get to them first.” You growled.

Sirius’ face finally softened as he sat on the end of your bed and cautiously touched your ankle under the blankets.

“You sure you’re okay, Y/N?”

And you aren’t sure what did it.

You weren’t sure if it was the softness you saw in Sirius that you were sure you could have never even imagined possible from a person, let alone someone related to the infamous Black family. Or if it was the eyebrows of Remus Lupin that were furrowed in concern as he dutifully watched his boyfriend finish plastering a bandage to your head, or if it was the unbelievable softness of James Potter’s touch – in complete contrast to his fast, rough, bouncing personality that you were usually subjected to.

But dammit, you felt a tear slip down your cheek.

You wiped it away quickly and nodded your head in yes.

You braced yourself for the teasing, the cooing, the dramatic displays of affection. But Sirius quickly stood and disappeared behind the curtains, James began pouring you a glass of water, and Remus reached into his bag for something.

Remus returned to you first, breaking off a square of chocolate for you. “It’ll help.”

You were too embarrassed to argue and took it, popping it into your mouth dutifully.

“Here.” Sirius said as he appeared back at your bedside, handing you a vial.

“What is it?” You asked, your voice taut with emotion.

Sirius’ eyes softened again as he offered you a sad smile. “Calming draught. You can’t have any more pain potion, but this might make you feel better.”

“And if not, maybe you can convince Moony to share more of his chocolate.” James commented with a soft smile.

You grimaced at the taste of the potion and chased it with the water James had poured for you.

“Thank you.” You admitted quietly, shame colouring your tone as you looked to your lap.

“None of that.” Remus said as he handed you another piece of chocolate.

You took it skeptically. “Why do they call you Moony?”

No one said anything for a moment, but you could tell that neither James nor Sirius were moving a muscle as they watched Remus who in turn watched you.

“Because of my lycanthropy.” He said plainly.

You looked at the various scars before you started to laugh. Sirius’ face drained of all colour while James visibly tensed.

“Of course you are. Remus Lupin. Named after a man raised by wolves and the lupus, or wolf constellation. Oh gods, it was predestined, clearly.”

“Are...are you laughing at me right now?” Remus asked incredulously.

“It’s a little funny...no?” You asked back.

He looked as if he were torn between laughing and crying. “I pour my heart out to you – my deepest darkest secret, and you laugh at me?” He asked again, some amusement colouring his features.

“I told you, I’m an arse.” You said with a shrug of your shoulders.

“Does it bother you?” Sirius asked cautiously from the end of your bed, face appearing impassive for all intents and purposes.

“I don’t see why it should, it’s none of my business.”

“It could be.” Remus input.

“You don’t want me. I’m no good, Lupin.” You stressed, looking back down at your hands.

“Neither am I.” Sirius agreed.

“Me neither.” Remus added.

“I’m n-” James started.

“So what if the only one of us worthy of love and affection here is James?” Sirius said, cutting James off. “It’s not going to stop me from cherishing what I can get - deserved or not.”

You groaned and threw your head back onto the pillow, cringing at the effect the fast movement had on you and the pain that the movement elicited in your neck.

“Okay, what about this.” James conciliated. “You don’t have to agree to be with us, just give us a chance? The time of day? One Hogsmeade trip to let us fawn over you.”

You looked up at his deep brown eyes that felt so warm you wanted to make a home in them. Sirius, in all his bravado, looked pained as he waited for an answer, and Remus smiled encouragingly at you.

“Fine!” You acquiesced with a groan. “One Hogsmeade trip.”

Much to your chagrin, though not really at all, it ended up being way more than just one Hogsmeade trip.

Thank you to @unstablereader who gave us the library handholding prompt 🫶

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inuyashaluver · 2 months

Note

hello! can i request an enemies to lovers fic for misa?!?! i absolutely love your fics and theres barely any fics about her so i thought why not

change of heart - misa rodriguez

misa rodriguez x reader

description: in which your relationship with your ultimate enemy takes a turn when she helps you through a tough time

warnings: it’s a long one buckle in, swearing, fighting, suggestive, spanish in bold italics

a/n: finally misa!!! thank you for the love and support, babe, please enjoy!! ❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

maría isabel rodriguez rivero, or misa if you will, was the bane of your existence. she was ill-tempered, absolutely insufferable when you couldn’t get a ball past her, arrogant and more. she was also gorgeous but you’d never say it out loud.

you couldn’t understand misa and she couldn’t understand you, the two of you just didn’t get along.

you were on the same team always, but it always felt like a competition between the two of you. sure you were a midfielder and she was a goalkeeper but that didn’t mean the hate didn’t stem.

it’s always been like that, especially in the spanish youth teams, you had the ability to push misa’s buttons in a way she couldn’t explain and vice versa. there was never a pivotal moment where the hatred began but you both knew it steadily developed as you got older.

—

“misa, we’re just training, calm down!” a 16 year old you screamed when she dove for your strike, a harsh smack sounding as she caught it.

“we may be training but that doesn’t mean we get lazy, chiquitín (small one)” misa smirked, kicking a long ball way past you. you send her a glare, cursing her under your breath as you went to retrieve the ball.

by the time you got back, she was doing her keeper duties, but with much less intensity, clearly only going full out when you were the one kicking the ball.

“i thought we shouldn’t get lazy, misa?” you teased, cocking your head to the side and offering her a cheeky grin that made her blood boil.

“fuck off, lay it on me then” she challenged angrily, everyone could feel the tension between the two of you but chose to watch in amusement. this happened every two minutes on the daily and everyone was so used to it.

“i fucking will” you bite back, striking the ball before she had time to think and sending it dangerously close to her face, sailing past her into the back of the net. “no, you’re a cheater, i wasn’t ready,” misa barked, you shrug at her

“you don’t get time to prepare for your little tea party in a match, rodriguez” you taunt, that’s when misa lost it. she walked over to you, standing chest to chest as she glared down at you, you could feel her anger bubbling in your entire body as your eyes challenged hers.

“listen here, princesa (princess), this little attitude of yours is a bad look” she said lowly with mock sympathy. she was clearly trying to rile you up, and sure, maybe you should ignore it but you couldn’t with this girl, no matter how hard you tried.

“my attitude? your fucking ego is the only thing that enjoys a solo performance more than you do” you scoff, she smirks amusingly, moving her face dangerously close to yours as you swallowed hard.

her scent was enveloping you, it was crazy how good she smelled after a training session but you squashed that thought down quickly.

she chose to just keep her face close to yours, her eyes boring into yours while that fucking smirk was plastered on her face.

she looked down at your lips, chuckled and moved past you, letting you stand there with slightly pink cheeks. must be from the heat.

—

for years the snarky remarks continued, tension rose and stemmed the basis of you and misa’s weird relationship. in reality, something else was growing under the surface. attraction.

you both played together in the under 19 spain team and your fellow teammates could all agree that both of you managed to hate each other even more, believing it was physically impossible but you and misa were always overachievers.

“move” misa grumbles as you were talking with ona, shoving you towards the girl, making you stumble before you snap your head towards misa. “you’re such a treat” you glare at her, ona makes quick work of helping you stand after she giggled at the two of you.

misa watches as you stand, making her grin and blow you an exaggerated air kiss. “always such a pleasure to see you” she mocks, you roll your eyes at her and she smiles satisfied, moving to change into her kit in her cubby.

you hate to admit that your eyes lingered on the girl as she changed, the muscles in her back rippling against her skin when she tugged on her keeper kit.

you were distracted, not even processing that aitana had joined your conversation, coming back to life when she sends you a sharp smack on the back of your head.

“ow! what the fuck?” you yelp, turning to a grinning aitana and ona, misa’s head followed the sound of your voice, her eyebrows furrowed thinking you were in pain.

“welcome to earth” aitana smirks, you huff out in frustration and urge her to continue the conversation, your eyes flickering over to see that misa was already watching you.

“can i help you, rodriguez?” you call out, she shakes her head, “nope”, flipping you off before walking out of the room. your eyes followed her as she walked out, feeling a little disappointed when she was gone.

well, you were disappointed until training started. “come on, is that all you’ve got?” misa taunted, her signature smirk that pissed you off like no tomorrow evident on her face as she caught the fifth ball you’d sent her way.

“you never change, we’re practising!” you huff, hands stationary on your hips as you glared at her, “you never change, you’re lazy” misa teases, you close your eyes in frustration, taking a deep breath as she laughed at you.

“you’re so fucking annoying, misa!” you groan, “don’t be mad, princesa (princess), you’ll get one past me eventually” she throws you a thumbs up with her gloves, you send her a charming smile, kicking the ball hard way over the goal, making her send you a glare when she had to go and get it.

“you give into her every time” ona chuckles, her arm thrown over your shoulder. when misa came back and saw ona holding you close, a funny feeling brewed in her stomach, she wanted to be like that with you, but you hated her. and she hated you.

—

you and misa got signed to real madrid at the same time and it was purely unintentional. when you both came to training for the first time, you swore you had a heart attack seeing her in the kit.

“you just cannot get enough of me” misa says in mock disbelief, trying really hard not to laugh at your face right now, you were shocked.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you exhale, watching as misa chuckled at you. “i play for madrid now” she starts, “you look nice,” smiling before tugging the bottom of your training top quickly before moving past you.

your cheeks instantly turned pink, mouth a little agape as she smiled at you over her shoulder, making sure you had to open the door yourself.

the first game you and misa played for madrid changed something slightly between the two of you. the tension between you two finally acknowledged a little when you got a hatrick.

at the end of the game, you felt a hand on your shoulder spinning you around as you did your appreciation lap, “always so greedy, you just had to get three goals?” misa teased, you roll your eyes amusingly, her hand still on your shoulder.

“i was imagining you as the keeper” you smirk, she laughs at that, “you wish” you laugh along with her, both of you with gentle smiles on your faces before you realised what was happening.

you were bantering without any malice, that was a first.

—

the months went by and slowly you and misa got closer? that’s not the right term but it kinda was. the two of you were more or less a little more friendly, mainly through moments that people on the outside viewed as normal but very different for you and misa.

for instance, misa would make an effort to help you out occasionally. helping you out on your tracker as you pathetically tried to yourself.

“you’re embarrassing yourself” misa laughs, grabbing your hips to hold you still, your breath hitched as you felt her fingers on your skin, you were burning.

she takes the tracker from your hands and slips it in the back of your training top, lightly tapping it with her hand before pulling your top down for you.

“i had it” you breathe out, “mhm, sure you did” she winks, placing a hand on your waist before moving past you. you stood there a little dumbfounded, that was nice, and why did you like the feeling of her hands on your skin?

during that training session, she analysed your every move, misa came to terms with having different feelings about you. they were always there of course, but it was different now when she finally accepted them.

you as well couldn’t keep your eyes off misa, often making eye contact with each other before you ripped your gaze away, afraid she’d see how red your face got when she caught you staring. but she did see it, and she loved it.

during shooting practice, misa let you get three goals past her and it pissed you off. “why are you going easy on me?” you exclaim, misa holds her hands up in front of her with a little laugh, “i’d never take it easy on you,” you narrow your eyes at her unconvinced, kicking the ball softly and watching as it rolled in the net, slowly, misa just watched as it moved past her.

“rodriguez, what the fuck!” you throw your arms up, misa laughs brightly, “you’re too good for me now, miss madrid!” she teased, you run your hands over your face, shaking your head.

you walk off to grab some water and misa came up shortly behind you, you wordlessly passed her water bottle to her and her eyes widen a little at the gesture, “thanks” she smiles quickly, her hands brushing yours as she took it, feeling a little jolt of electricity between both of you.

—

everything changed rapidly when you and misa played in the senior team for spain. as soon as the two of you didn’t come in like a thunder strike of an argument, the team was genuinely surprised.

they noticed the complete shift when both of you were starting and unfortunately, your team lost 3-2 in a final. you hadn’t managed to get a goal and you blamed yourself for the whole thing.

you fell to the ground when the final whistle blew, lying on your back with your arm over your eyes as tears rolled down your cheeks.

you weren’t there for long, you felt your body being pulled to an upright position and you let whoever it was do it. you sniffled and looked down at your legs before a gentle hand hooked under your chin and gently directed it upwards.

your eyes met with misa and it made you cry a little more, her heart broke at the sight of you, she’d never seen you cry before. she places a hand on the back of your head and pulled you close to her, tucking your face into her shoulder as you cried.

both of you said nothing, letting yourself melt into misa’s body as everything else tuned out. her other hand rubbed up and down your back, your arms eventually wound around her neck, pulling her closer as she rested her head against yours.

“you played so well,” misa cooed, dismissing all the questioning looks sent by your own teammates, misa only cared about one person and that was you.

“i wasn’t good enough” you mumble against her shirt, misa shook her head, “you’re always good enough, hermosa (beautiful), always” misa said in your ear, her hand on your back now moving in gentle circles as she drew you impossibly closer.

“we lost” you whined, misa tutted at that, “it doesn’t matter, we’ll get them next time” you pull away from her slightly, at arms length.

she smiles at you softly, her hand leaving your head to push a stray hair from your eyes before gently wiping the tears falling on your cheeks. the gesture was so intimate, your stomach was fluttering.

“who are you and what have you done with my misa?” you let out a wet laugh, she laughs along with you, pinching your cheek gently as you both sat on the ground.

“your misa?” she teases, you freeze up a little at that, attempting to pull yourself away from her embrace but she kept you close, pulling you into another hug.

“you’re okay” she breathes out, comforting you as you both conversed quietly back and forth, misa helping you calm down completely before helping you to the change room.

she holds out both of her hands with a friendly smile, you blink up at her and take them both, allowing her to lift you from the ground.

that’s when alexia and jenni came over and began to comfort you, your hands dropping from misa’s and instantly missing the contact.

she went around talking to your teammates as you all slowly filtered into the change room, celebrations still occurring in the change room despite the loss.

you sat quietly in your cubby, misa watched you concerned when you just sat there but she didn’t want to push you anymore.

you all made it back to your hotel, separate rooms for the first time in a while. you collapsed on the bed with an exhausted sigh, starting up at the ceiling while the tv gently filled the atmosphere.

at this point, all you could think about was misa, she was completely clouding up every thought in your head.

your body moving on its own, you walked to the door, swinging it open and letting out a little noise of surprise seeing misa on the other side already. you both clutched your chests in fear, breathing heavily at the fright you gave each other.

“sorry, were you going somewhere?” misa utters, you shook your head, “i was going to your room” you say a little sheepishly, misa’s never heard your voice so soft, especially directed to her.

“oh” she breathes out, you shift your weight between your feet, “do you want to come in?” you swallow, misa nods slowly, moving inside the room and closing the door behind her.

“i just wanted to check up on you” misa admitted, scratching the back of her neck bashfully.

your heart was beating so fast, you nervously glance up at misa before looking back down, trying to avoid eye contact as much as possible. you could feel her eyes burning into your side profile, trying to see what your next move would be.

you clear your throat before sitting on the bed, your legs swinging over the edge, misa smiled at the sight, you looked adorable, she felt like she could see your younger self that she admired so much shining through.

she moved to sit next to you, her thigh slightly brushing yours as she sat down. “i feel bad, but i’ll be okay” you sigh, looking over to see her smiling sympathetically, she places a gentle hand on your knee.

“hermosa (beautiful), you played amazing, i really mean that,” she says earnestly, her hand gently squeezing your knee as she maintains eye contact with you.

you smile sadly at her, “so did you” she grins, “i let three go past me” you shake your head, “it doesn’t matter, misa, you played amazing as usual” her cheeks go a little pink at your compliment, “what have you done with my (y/n)” she mocks, bumping your shoulder with hers.

you laugh brightly, “your (y/n)?” you tease, but she just nods, “mhm, my (y/n)” her eyes flicker between your own, slightly dropping to your lips before catching herself and looking at her hand still resting on your knee, ready to move it away before you placed your hand over hers.

“misa” you breathe out, almost sounding like a plea as you looked at her, her heart caught in her throat, her eyes searching yours. she moved her hand to rest on your cheek, her thumb rubbing the skin there.

your eyes dropped to her lips and she took it as confirmation, closing the gap and placing her lips on yours. you gasp against her, your mouths moving together tenderly before she slipped her tongue in your mouth.

you weren’t sure how it happened but you ended up straddling her lap, both of you breathing heavily as the kiss grew a little hotter. she gently tugged at your bottom lip between her teeth and you whined into her, making her smirk lazily against your lips, squeezing the flesh of your waist as your hands carded through her hair.

you pull away in need of air, you and misa just looking at each other with pink cheeks and blown out pupils.

you pant as you look at her, smoothing down her hair with a giggle. “sorry” you smile, she smiles up at you adoringly, shaking her head lightly, “it’s okay” you keep your hands on her shoulders, your finger lightly grazing the exposed skin near her collar.

“you okay?” she whispers, the words hitting your lips, you nod, leaning forward to peck her lips sweetly, she smiles at you so brightly. “you okay?” you whisper back, she nods, bumping your nose with hers softly.

“if i told 16 year old (y/n) how good of a kisser you were, maybe she wouldn’t hate you as much” you tease, misa chuckles, pulling you in for another kiss, her hand cupping your jaw.

“if i told 16 year old misa all she had to do was kiss you to get you all sweet, i think she’d pass out” she teases back, you giggle, rolling your eyes fondly.

you tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, “you’re so beautiful” you say softly, “you’re more beautiful” she matches your energy, you both smile at each other sweetly.

“i like you, (y/n)” she looks right into your eyes as she says it, you offer her a cheesy grin, “i like you too” she mirrors your expression before pulling you into another kiss, becoming heated relatively quickly.

you pull away breathlessly making her huff in annoyance, “does this mean you’ll let me score against you?” you tease, she rolls her eyes with a laugh, “hm, maybe, bebé (baby)” she mumbles against your lips, pulling you back into the kiss.

—

when you both went to breakfast the next day and sat next to each other closely, you were offered wild looks of amusement.

“isn’t this a surprise” jenni laughed as her and alexia sat across the both of you. “what?” misa shrugged, “well you’re not fighting” alexia smiled, you rolled your eyes, arms crossing over your chest when you sat straight in your chair.

misa placed a hand on your thigh under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. “we don’t fight all the time” misa defended, alexia laughed at that, yelling at ona and aitana for backup that they promptly gave.

“we made up ages ago” you narrow your eyes at alexia, she crinkled her nose at you teasingly, making you bite back a smile.

“oh don’t worry, we know you made up” jenni laughed, looking down at her plate with a smirk as she ate, “and what do you mean by that, jennifer?” you bite back, misa smiled amusingly, loving your feisty side.

“well the hickey on your neck says everything to me” she said simply, your eyes widen and your hand flung to your neck quickly, jenni laughs heartily, making alexia giggle too.

misa puts her head in her hands out of embarrassment now that the whole team was looking at you with teasing grins.

“i thought i heard something interesting last night, misa definitely got (y/n)’s forgiveness with what i heard” jenni teases, you glare at her, misa was bright red, “stop it, jenni” misa grits out,

“okay, i will” jenni smirks, continuing to eat her food before mocking your voice, “oh, misa, don’t stop” you gasp at that, ready to leap over the table to tackle the girl to the floor before you were held back by misa, the girl holding you firmly on her lap.

“misa” you whine, “no,” she reprimands, making you slouch into her, “i’ve never seen her so obedient” alexia smirks, you turn bright red, misa matches her smirk, running her hands up and down the side of your waist, promptly calming you down.

you both sat there like that for a bit until you had to get on the bus back to the airport. you and misa sit together and you both can’t help but relish in the affection and domesticity of being together.

you were cuddling into misa as you both chatted, laughing brightly with each other that had the whole team grinning.

it was extremely different from watching the two of you at each other's throats to seeing you all loved up but it was a happy change for everyone. especially you and misa.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill, just pretend it’s you!!

liked by ona.batlle and 44,232 others

marisabel_rguez: who knew she was such a softie?

view all comments

yourname: fuck off

↳ marisabel_rguez: there she is!!

jennihermoso: i’ve learnt a lot of things about this one😉

↳ alexiaputellas: so have i

↳ marisabel_rguez: oh god, so have i

↳ yourname: stop it.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #misa rodriguez #misa #misa rodriguez x reader #misa x reader

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malereadermaniac · 6 months

Text

Toxic ~ Nate Jacobs x Male Reader

He bullied the shit out of you for being gay

Not regular bullying, but like psychological shit

Nate would make small comments about you to a crowd of people, making you uncomfortable for the rest of the night

Or when the two of you were left alone in a room he would call you a f@g when you try to make conversation

However late at night, your phone would be buzzing with notifications from him snapping you

But you were popular, so he couldn't harass you too much - especially once you became friends with maddy

You were a regular at parties, so he'd see you there

Every time nate got drunk, he'd catch his eyes on you more than he'd like

On your body, warm from the heat of everyone dancing and the alcohol in your system

It didn't help that like everyone else, you dressed like a model everytime you left the house - but at parties that was tenfold

You wore virtually no clothes, pretty much forcing Nate's eyes to glue to your thighs, your waist, your ass as it peaked out from your shorts

He also liked how you kept your body hairless, just like Maddy

He would be repulsed if you didn't, so when you raise your arms as you dance, he notices your freshly shaved arms and armpits

After Maddy and Nate were finally broken up, more parties happened

And even though girls tried and succeded to get with Nate, he didn't care for them

They were hookups to him, he noticed them once they put themselves out in front of him

But you

Nate noticed you the second you walked into any party

Maybe it was because when you walked in, people rushed to you to say hi and kiss and hug

But he couldn't deny that when he arrived at any party, part of him was scanning the room for you

Nate fucking hated it

He couldn't even admit it to himself that he piqued an interest in you

He reminded himself that he wasn't gay, he wasn't a f@g he would say to himself

Nate was tipsy and couldn't take his eyes off of you

He would try to find things he hated about you, but he just thought of how hot you looked as you danced with your friends, guys all up on you after they've had a couple of drinks

He noticed you were heading to the bathroom, so after taking a quick shot of whatever he could find, he followed you

Once you got into the bathroom of whoever was hosting that night, Nate forced his way in and locked the door behind him

"What the fuck Nate!?" You shout, scared by the current situation

"Shut up.." Nate mumbles as he gets closer to you

His rough hand cups tour cheek

You look up at the muscular Jock, his eyes hazy looking into yours

Nate focused on your lips, then your eyes, then you lips again

His hand was warm on your cheek

He gave in finally and kissed you

It felt warm, definitely wet and definitely very passionate

Like Nate had been waiting a while to do this

A moan slipped out of your mouth into his as the two of you made out

Nates other hand snaking around your waist

You can feel his muscles against your body as Nate moans into your mouth, his hand on your cheek feeling hot

Nates tongue toyed with yours as you closed your eyes, his fingers tracing circles on your skin

You felt his hard-on poke you, Nate groaning into your mouth as he pushes his dick against yours

He picks you up, Nates strong, huge arms holding you up from under your thighs, your arms around his neck as the two of you keep making-out

The sound of lips crashing against one another and muffled moans echo inside the bathroom

Nate grinds his hard dick up against your ass

You feel lightheaded and hot, breaking the kiss and gasping for air, resting your forehead on Nates built shoulder

"Hey... Help me out here, (y/n)" Nate whispers breathlessly into your ear, making a point of grinding up against you

"Oh yeah? And how should I do that?" You reply, just as breathlessly

More kissing takes place as Nate let's you down from his arms

His hot tongue dancing around yours, Nates rough, big hands rubbing all over your body

You get on your knees and Nate leans against the sink counter, his body looking godly as you look up at Nate with hooded eyes

He was big, you could feel it through his loose shorts

You remember little from that night, but you definitely remember the sounds that Nate made, he was convinced that was the best head of his life

The two of you became a regular thing, he would bully u less in exchange for late night hookups in his car

He would pull up to your house, text you to come outside and wouldn't say a word to you until he pulled up to your hookup spot

The drive over was always interesting, you'd always wear something Nate liked, you could see his dick hard in his pants and Nate would look over at every chance he got but he would stay silent

He would put your seat down and start kissing you, the windows steaming up as the two of you dry hump each other as you make out

He would start gently with you, but soon Nate would get too horny and fuck you senseless

It was never more than that, you didn't allow yourself to fall for Nate cause he bullied u and was a closeted cunt

He was a dick after the two of you fucked, he would let you both calm down and then tell you to dress back up

He'd drive you home and say "night" and that's all

But Nate was surely falling for you though, after sex he could pretend to fall asleep just to hold you

His big body on top of yours, your cum and his drying on yours and his stomach, sweat making you stick to his seat but tiredness allowing you to fall asleep with him

He liked how big he was compared to you, Nate would get up after you fall asleep and admire you

He hated himself for it, but in the moment he couldn't care less

You looked hot, covered in his spit and sweat and cum, looking peaceful and moonlit as you sleep

Nate eventually invested in baby wipes that he would keep in his car, wiping you down gently as you slept, dressing you up and driving you home, but once you wake up, Nate would continue with his silence and drop you home with a short "night"

But you'd notice... you were wearing his sweatshirt

His massive sweatshirt which smelt like him and felt warm against your skin...

Fuck. You like the cunt that bullied you relentlessly and that is very much closeted

But after that, the two of u became somewhat exclusive (only secretly) Nate really showed how toxic he gets

Cause nobody knew the two of you were a thing, girls would jump on him and he would do nothing about it

Maddy didn't dare talk to him, she was better than that, but other girls definitely tried to get with Nate

He never actually did anything with them, but Nate didn't care that you saw how they all flirted with him, and he really didn't care how that made you feel

Most nights would end in arguments over text on Nate's harem of girls that would flirt with him

He would always play innocent and call you crazy, but you'd never let him gaslight you, so most nights the two of you wouldn't be on talking terms

That is until he goes through the effort of posting an "I'm sorry" card through your letterbox

He won your little game everytime he apologised, because you're always sure he means it, that is until he fucks up again the next day

One day you had enough, binned his letter and stopped talking to him

Nate was fuming, he spend 6 hours in the gym that day

You had 23 un-opened snaps and messages from him

It stressed him out you wouldn't talk to him - he did like you, he was also frustrated that you were withholding sex, but most of all he was terrified you would out him

He heard that you had a free house that day and turned up at your house, forcing hid way in when you opened the door - reminiscing of thaf first night

A lot of shouting ensued

But after that... a LOT of making out followed

You were sat on your bed, grinding against eachother, you sat on Nate's lap as you made out for ages

Once Nate started begging to let him fuck you, you stripped down for him

At some point during the night, you though you had broken your bed, from the amount of creaking you two were causing

But the night ended well nonetheless

Nate made you watch as he blocked everyone of the girls that liked him

The two of you made out until you were too tired to keep going

Nate slept over for the first time, he felt comfortable

You body against his, sleeping on his huge chest

For the first time ever, Nate wasn't arguing with himself over his very homo actions

He just let himself feel you and enjoy you as he fell asleep

#male reader #gay #x male reader #fanfic #light smut #gay smut #nate jacobs #nate jacobs x male reader #nate jacobs x reader #euphoria #euphoria x reader #euphoria x male reader #light angst #toxic relationship #male reader angst #x male reader smut

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theemporium · 1 month

Note

hey girl! i was wondering if i could order a drink? i was thinking a dirty flirtini with Oscar with the prompt "the fastest way to shut me up is to kiss me" - maybe it's the first time oscars been really bold and she's surprised but definitely not complaining - or you can make something new!

also holy shit 10k congrats you deserve it and so much more ily <33

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

23. "The fastest way to shut me up is to kiss me."

Oscar would never consider himself a big drinker, Australian stereotypes be damned.

A big part of that was the fact he never really had a chance to drink or party. Despite what people assumed about the lavish life of a Formula One driver, nine times out of ten, he was too tired to even keep his eyes open on the elevator ride up to his hotel room, let alone go out to a club after the race. He wasn’t even sure how some of the other drivers managed to do it.

However, it was the race weekend just before summer break and it seemed like he didn’t have much of an excuse but to go out with the rest of the paddock—especially with Lando threatening to drag him out of his hotel room to do so.

And honestly, he hadn’t planned to drink much that night. He thought he would nurse a few drinks over a couple of hours, show his face for a decent amount of time and talk to a couple of people before he could sneak off.

That plan quickly went down the drain when Oscar noticed you were hanging around the McLaren group for the night and the nerves had him chugging down drinks far faster than he should have.

Next thing he knew, he was drunk and giggly and, because the universe was against him, left alone with you.

If he was sober, it wouldn’t have been that bad. Oscar had gotten pretty good at hiding his obvious feelings for you, considering he had been doing as much since his first day. He thought it was a fleeting crush, one that would disappear as the season continued.

Unfortunately for him, it did not. And even more unfortunately for him, it seemed like drunk Oscar didn’t have the same control over the words leaving his lips.

“You look really pretty today,” was the first thing for him to blurt out.

You turned to face him in the booth you both were huddled in. You raised your brows in surprise, but there was a smile on your face which was a good sign for him, at least.

“Just today?” You teased.

“No,” he said, so definitely as he shook his head in response. “You are pretty every day. I always think it. I just don’t say it. Which is stupid because I should tell you but I don’t want you thinking I am some weirdo who just stares at you all day. But Lando says I am already.”

“I wouldn’t think you are a weirdo, Osc,” you reassured him.

“I like the way you say my name, too,” Oscar mumbled out, leaning his head against the back of the booth as he turned to look at you. “Like, so much better than when anyone else says it. I think everyone else should be banned from saying it because it will never sound as pretty as it does when you say it.”

Your grin widened. “You’re really talkative tonight, I’ve never seen you like this.’

Oscar blinked. “Do you want me to shut up?”

You opened your mouth, but he bet you to it.

“Because the fastest way to shut me up is to kiss me,” he blurted out. And this time, he at least had the decency to look flustered by his own words.

Your palm felt warm when it landed on his arm. “And if I don’t want you to shut up?”

“Uh,” Oscar cleared his throat. “You can still kiss me, if you want. I won’t complain. Like, at all. If anything, I would probably—”

But he never quite got the chance to finish what he was saying. Not that he really remembered, not when you had placed your lips on his and every coherent thought disappeared from his brain.

“Yeah,” he murmured against your lips. “Told you it would shut me up.”

You laughed, smiling fondly. “I happen to quite like your rambles, Osc. Just as much as your kisses.”

#cece's cocktail celebration #oscar piastri #formula one #f1 #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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rivatar · 1 month

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“You’re Mine Now”

Pairing: Aged!Up!Lo’ak x fem!omatikayan!reader

W/c: 2.5k (oops)

Warnings/content: MDNI, heavy smut, non-con, dacryphilia, innocence/corruption kink, possessive & rough Lo’ak, reader is a virgin, cream pie, (lmk if I missed any!)

A/n: this is for prompt 4 of Pandora’s Bloody Moon. I know Bia’s acc is deleted but @hidden-snow asked that we continue the event. So here ya go, ya filthy sluts 💖

Also credit to @sugarsong78 for creating the idea of the Blood Moon! ❤️

P.S. if any of you have watched the movie Fear with Mark Wahlberg and Reese Witherspoon— it’s kinda giving that whole psychopath vibe 🤭👀

Lo’ak had always had eyes for you. Sure, he got around and had his fair share of girls, but you made him unbelievably curious and he came to the conclusion that he needed to corrupt you before anyone else did, or he would never be satisfied.

Maybe it was because you were so untouchable. He was certain you were a virgin because he knew almost all the other guys have tried to sweet talk you and always end up failing, just like he did. He had thought he would have an advantage as the Olo’eyktan’s son but you still turned him down, much to his frustration.

It wasn’t that he was desperate for sex, he could easily hook up with many of the other omatikaya girls. But something about you always intrigued him and drew in his attention. Maybe it was the chase that he liked so much, the fact that you wouldn’t give into him made him want you more, like a challenge. He spent far too much time thinking about you and wanting to know more about you. He would talk to you and joke with you whenever he could, constantly trying to just earn a spot with you. There was even times he thought of you when he was fucking another girl so that he could finish. He was infatuated and wanted to have you and ruin you. He wanted to show you how good he can make you feel and watch you crumble over and over again though multiple orgasms until you were shaking from being overstimulated. He wanted to be the first. But how could he if you wouldn’t even give him the slightest chance?

Tonight was the night the Blood Moon would make its appearance; all Na’vi knew and many prepared themselves the best they could. A lot of families essentially locked themselves inside their houses and took sleeping medicine so that they wouldn’t be awake and outside roaming in their demon form.

On the other hand, a lot of Na’vi embraced this phenomenon. They thought of it as a natural way of life and it should be able to take its course through them for just one night of the year. Eywa made no mistakes to them, so surely there was a reason for this too.

Lo’ak was aware this was tonight and he made up his mind and had a plan in order. He was going to find you and have you, no matter what. And the scheming bastard was so clever that he already knew he was going to blame his shameful behavior on the Blood Moon’s effect on him, so that hopefully you would forgive him afterwards.

…

You on the other hand, were one who didn’t want to participate in this and you were going to take all the precautions to avoid everyone and the consequences. This wasn’t your first rodeo, you’ve done this before on this night each year and have been fine. Your process was to close off your entrance so one would come in and so the moonlight wouldn’t touch you and make you possessed. Once the Blood moonlight hit the Na’vi skin, it was game over.

To trap yourself in, years ago you had made a woven covering supported with wooden beams that covers where your opening to your hut is. It was still evening but you would rather be safe then sorry so you put it up and tied it securely to the sides of your hut to keep it in place.

Then you sat and waited and ate your dinner alone. Praying to Eywa nothing would happen to you tonight.

…

You lifted the covers on your cot to tuck yourself in, deciding to try and go ahead and go to sleep.

Your ear twitches as you hear a sound outside your living space, as if someone was walking up to your blocked-off entrance.

BANG, BANG, BANG.

Your heart dropped as you stared fearfully at your makeshift door being banged on repeatedly.

“YAWNEEEE!! ITS LOAKKK!!” He shouted loudly while still banging the door.

What in Eywa’s name? Lo’ak?? Yawne???

You were so shocked you didn’t speak, not knowing what to say and hoping maybe he’d go away. He wouldn’t be in his right mind right now.

The banging continued. “You gonna let me in??? Or do I have to break in myself??” He yelled while obnoxiously laughing.

“L-Lo’ak, please go away! I’m trying to sleep,” you tried to deny his request politely.

“Nahhh baby, why would I leave when I need you so bad?? Think I’ll dieee if I don’t get you!”

What the hell? This cannot be happening. Your heart was pounding and your hands were clammy in fear. He was literally insane right now.

Then he used all his strength which was heightened right now to shake and break your barrier down, snapping the ties loose and it fell forward with a thud in front of him.

Standing at the door, he instantly made eye contact with you sitting on your bed.

The sight of him was enough to make you nearly piss yourself. His skin was grey and his freckles were bright red, a much different look from his normal vibrant blue. But his eyes were the most horrific part; replacing the normal yellow tint, they were now red orbs glowing in the dark of the night. He smiled devilishly from ear to ear, flashing his even larger fangs and ran his tongue over his teeth like you were his delicious prey. He looked deranged, like a psycho.

“Hi, yawne,” he whispered eerily, still smiling and staring deep into your soul. It seemed to make him smile bigger seeing how terrified you looked trying to cower back onto the bed. You noticed the tent in his loincloth and tears started forming in your eyes. You knew another effect of the Blood Moon was heightened sexual urges.

“Lo’ak please!! Don’t do this!!” You begged.

He quietly stalked closer to you until he could kneel next to your bed. He was even scarier up close.

“Why not? I don’t think I can wait a second longer, baby,” he rubbed your leg and you jumped at the contact.

“I don’t want to!” You cried, warm tears cascading down your cheeks.

You looked into those eyes and didn’t see the Lo’ak you normally knew. No, he was possessed right now, of course it wasn’t really him.

He ran his calloused hand up your leg to cup your pussy through your cloth. You barely whimpered in both terror and sudden pleasure shooting up your spine as you continued crying.

He grinned more. He thought you looked so pretty when you cried.

He then moved your loincloth to the side to touch your bare cunt.

“You’re wet already. You may not want this but your pretty pussy is crying out for me,” he tried convincing you; and subconsciously himself.

He slid a finger inside you swiftly and watched your face intently for a reaction. You were trying so hard not to give him any reaction but you have never felt this before so the pleasure was an unknown feeling for you that you couldn’t control.

All you could do was stare at him as your chest heaved up and down, adjusting to the new stretch his long finger provided.

He pulled it back and slammed back in. A gasp slipped out of your mouth as your pussy fluttered, gripping him perfectly.

“Fuck, that little virgin pussy is sucking me in so tight. Don’t worry, I’ll stretch you out a bit before you have to take my cock,” Lo’ak said.

“Please stop,” you begged again and shook your head ‘no’, yet feeling betrayed by your body succumbing to the pleasure.

Your unwillingness seemed to only make him want you more. He was determined to make you take it and make you cum and feel good. By the end of it you were gonna like it, he promised himself in his mind.

“But you’re doing so good. I gotta claim you as mine now,” he stated plainly, as if that wasn’t a big deal nor required your consent.

He pumped his finger into you and you felt an unfamiliar tightening and gooey feeling in your lower stomach. It felt so good after the initial stretch. You tried to not moan but you couldn’t help it, so you threw your head back so you at least wouldn’t have to look at him. You spread your legs more without even thinking. He didn’t want to wait any longer to ravish you, and ruin you and your innocence.

He suddenly yanked your loincloth off and decided your top needed to go too so he ripped it off as well, leaving you on display for him.

He nearly drooled at the sight, you were like a fresh meal set out and prepared for him, all for his taking.

“Gonna make you cum first before I fuck you,” he told you.

He lowered his head to lick at your clit and continued pumping his single digit. The feeling of his rough tongue was something else, it was entirely foreign and nothing like you could’ve ever imagined. It was heavenly.

He then added another finger, assuming you were ready for it by the way your wetness coated his fingers and knuckles. Your sounds of pleasure tumbled from your lips and he savored every one of them like the sweetest song to his ears.

“Feels good, right?” He asked sensually.

You nodded your head and gave a whiny, pathetic “mhmm”

“Yeah I know it fucking does. Should’ve done this to you a long time ago”

Your brain didn’t register that he wanted to do this before now, too. Your adrenaline coursed through your veins and all your senses were heightened. So many unfamiliar feelings all at once and you had no choice but to lay and take it.

“I-It feels weird,” you panted “like I’m about to pee” your eyebrows scrunched up.

He laughed at your pure innocence, it filled him with so much pride and his ego swelled.

“That means you’re gonna cum. Poor girls never felt an orgasm before, huh?”

Your heart sped up faster and the pleasure increased more and more, rushing you towards the climax.

“You never even touched yourself? Really?”

You shook your head no, barely processing his words.

He made a noise almost like a growl. “Fuck, you’re driving me crazy. So fucking sweet and innocent, all for me to corrupt”

And just like that, you felt a release rush through you and taking over your body. You shook uncontrollably and yelled loudly, conquering your first ever orgasm. He kept licking and pumping to prolong it. It then turned into oversensitivity and you pushing his head away the best you could. He decided to be nice and let off you.

You panted and tried to come back down from it, exhausted already. He chuckled and smiled at you as he licked up all your mess off his face and hand. Your eyebrows were still crunched, but right now it was in confusion and horror at how nasty he was— that just seemed so dirty.

Without saying another word, he pulled down his loincloth to let his cock spring out. You looked at it in curiosity and fear.

“Never seen one of these before, have you?”

You weakly shook your head no, wondering how in the world that was supposed to go inside you?

He started jerking himself slowly and you watched him, frozen in your place. He didn’t take his eyes off you, those red eyes boring into your soul.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he roughly commanded, pointing at the floor in front of him.

You knew you had no choice but to obey, so you slowly and hesitantly did so.

“Good. Now arch that pretty back some”

You again did as he said, poking your ass out more for him.

“Mmmm. What a beautiful sight,” he spoke in awe and approval. He was checking out every part of you like this, staring mainly at your glistening, puffy cunt all eager and ready to be taken.

You were scared of him in his current state and trying to get this over with. You were sure he was gonna hurt you with his cock, judging by the size of him.

You heard him lower himself to his knees behind you and then felt his hand grab onto your hip. He lined himself up and you gasped when you felt his tip make contact with your hole.

“Gonna make you mine now. Your mind, body, and soul will be connected to me now. You never forget your first. And don’t worry, you’re gonna love this cock,” he said.

You weakly turned your head towards him and nodded, not wanting to anger him while he was like this. He could kill you right now if he wanted to.

“Beg for it”

“W-What?”

“I said fucking beg for it. Act like you want it.” He demanded harshly. “Good girls say please”

“Please, Lo’ak” you whimpered weakly.

He spanked your ass hard. “Say it like you mean it!”

“Please! Please! I need it!”

“Good girl,” he finally praised.

Shifting his hips forward, he pressed inside you. The stretch due to his thick girth was even better than he imagined. You were so warm and wet and tight for him.

You winced in pain at the stretch but honestly took it like a champ. You didn’t want to sound pathetically in pain because of him and let him win this.

“You feel so good,” he groaned deeply.

He started thrusting, setting a brutal pace. He was lost in the feeling, he had never felt a pussy this good.

You moaned and tried to cover your noise with your hand. You felt so full and his dick was reaching to where his fingers couldn’t get to. He pressed his back over you and grabbed under your jaw to bring your face next to his. This caused your back to arch more, your flesh smacking and getting louder and louder

“Taking it so well. Be a good girl and cum on my cock, will you?” He asked while tilting his head to look at your face, sloppily kissing your cheek.

You hummed and moaned, not really answering him. Your face was scrunched up and your eyes occasionally opened to look at the ceiling. You were caught up in your pleasure too and were losing all your thoughts.

Before you could register, the feeling came again and your orgasm ripped through you. You made a mess on his dick as your juices flowed out while you convulsed on his length.

“Fuck! That’s so hot,” Lo’ak grunted, watching your pussy cream on his cock. It was more than enough to make him finish too.

“Gonna fill you up now so you’ll smell like me and all the guys will know I claimed you for myself before they could”

His cum spurted inside you and painted your walls pearly white. You felt the warmness and the way everything got even more slippery as his dick was still fucking you, getting every last drop of cum out.

He finally slowed down and you slumped to the floor, absolutely exhausted.

“Good job yawne, I’m so proud of you,” he praised sweetly, quite contrary to the way he appeared— looking like a demon from a nightmare.

He rose up to go over and grab the boundary he broke through earlier. Your ears perked up and wondered what he was doing.

“Gotta make sure no one else wonders in here with us,” he answered your unspoken question.

“You’re mine now.”

Taglist/moots: @neteyamssyulang @bambithewriter @professional-yapper @ikeyniofthetayrangi @loakstahni @inolaphoenix @property-of-neteyam @loak-te-suli @nonamevenus (if you don’t wanna be tagged just lmk!!)

#atwow #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar smut #avatar fanfiction #james cameron avatar #loak sully #loak #loak x y/n #loak smut #loak x you #loak fanfiction #loak x reader #loak x omatikaya!reader #atwow loak #smut #atwow smut #atwow x reader #rivatar

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foreverxdaydreaming · 2 years

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/neg

pretty much just a vent, you can keep scrolling and go about your way, nothin important here tbh. all the tw's are in the tags; always remember to filter the shit outta things, kids.👍🏻

#nothing like being mid mental breakdown and having [redacted] thoughts but knowing there's no one you can call #bc everyone's asleep or wouldn't answer/care anyway #....time to hope i can console myself enough to get any rest.. thank fuck i took tmrw off bc of stuff i needed to do alr #bc these hormones /plus/ my mental health lately?#sorry to vent so much here lately but like ...dont rly have anywhere else to #but i always tag shit so it may be avoided #im just so fucking tired of everything and feel so weary man.. im not even 30 and i feel like ive just about given up on everything already #like ive been trudging along since i was like 14/15 and it's just always felt muggy and shitty with minor breaks....#i should prob get back to therapy at some point but my other one only helped sm... idc idc man #working and adulting has only made shit worse fr. stress is a nightmare and idk if my major/plans are gonna work out #i just dont think im cut out for anything im so painfully useless at like everything jfc....#ugdhdhdhdhd #/neg #mental health tw #depression tw #anxiety tx #ideation tw #all sort of shit #also kinda sounds like im romanticizing [redacted] but like.... dont mean it that way i just rly want a break from always feeling like shit #(deep deep sigh)#vent/rant

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sylveon-official · 3 months

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thoughts on angel's heartbreak

viv has already said that angel is gonna get his heart broken sooo

i imagine husk pushes a boundary. we've already seen husk push angel's limits quite a few times. he's obviously really judgmental and i think that's one of his biggest flaws. it almost seems like a defense mechanism, that because he's already given up on himself, he doesn't want to waste angel's potential and so he's harder on him.

we've got tons of examples of this in masquerade, with husk calling him fake. and even in welcome to heaven when angel is considering taking drugs, husk totally plays a guilt trip - "go ahead if you wanna mess up all your progress, i just thought you were better than that"

i think that's how the 'heartbreak' is gonna happen. angel can't believe he's got a someone like husk in his life and he's so smitten, coming to terms with his feelings for husk and tentatively getting hopeful that they're reciprocated. like husk has built him up enough to the point that angel feels he can break down his walls around him, so they're getting closer, more flirtatious in a really sweet way, sometimes even a little touchy.

so imagine them being at this stage, where angel so fully trusts him, which is a big deal for him. and then angel fucks up real bad. he's been clean for almost 6 months and him and everyone else in the hotel are super proud. but after a hard day in the studio he just breaks and goes on an all night bender. like he's out so late husk starts to worry and texts him, but all he gets is a belligerent phone call like "huskYYY BAaaby don' worry i'm jus' out w the girls from the studio u should be here miss yoo-" and then some guy cuts in like "angelbaby, i thought you were gonna show me a good time?" and angel's like "mmm oh ya cmere daddy~" and the call cuts off.

husk is fuckin pissed, not just bc angel is off the wagon after making so much progress, but he's also jealous. like they were obviously heading in the direction of something more, or so he thought, but here's angel back to his old self-destructive habits, getting fucked up and fucking random guys.

the next day, husk finds angel passed out on the on the couch. usually he would wake him up with breakfast or coffee if he knew he'd had a long night at the studio, but this time he just rolls his eyes and gets to work on the bar, maybe stuffing glasses back into cabinets a little louder than usual.

that wakes angel up and he's like, "huuusk what the fuck couldya keep it down?"

"it's almost noon. don't you have something to do? or someone..." he mumbles the last part, but angel hears and is wide awake like, "fuckin' excuse me?"

"what? you don't remember callin' me last night? sounded like you scored a real charmer"

angel is stalking up to the bar getting embarrassed and defensive, "wtf? since when do you care who i'm fuckin' in my free time?"

"i guess since it obviously wasn't a choice you made entirely sober! what were you thinking?! you were clean 6 whole months, and you gave it up to what? snort coke off of some hunk's abs?!"

angel's mouth drops open and he doesn't know what to say but his heart stings. he knows he fucked up real bad, but it was a hard day and he guesses old habits die hard... it's his first real attempt at getting clean, and of course he's disappointed in himself. and honestly, he was planning on talking through it with husk, but now...

"well that is just rich coming from you," angel says, shaking, rolling his eyes in the direction of husk's bloody mary.

"yeah, well, i'm not the one trying to get into heaven-"

"fuck off with that shit husk! you don't think i know i fucked up?! i'm not an idiot! you don't gotta keep that line in your back pocket for every time i screw up! i already know it's fuckin' pointless, you don't need to keep reminding me, asshole, get over yourself!" and he starts storming off upstairs, eyes welling up.

husk does feel guilty, and wants to continue the conversation, but he's still firmly of the belief that if angel just pulls himself together, he's a shoo-in for redemption and it's frustrating to see him self-destruct after making more progress than ever before.

"angel, wait-"

"NO, fuck you husk!" angel turns around, tears streaming down his face, pointing an accusing finger. "i thought if anyone could understand, it'd be you! i know everyone else is gonna be disappointed in me, but you-" he pauses, gulps down his tears and steels his face, "i guess i don't know you as well as i thought i did" and then storms upstairs.

then angel would have a few consecutive weeks of totally self-destructive behavior on a whole new level than anyone else at the hotel had ever seen. maybe he even moves out of the hotel and back in with val, having given up not only on himself and his grand delusions of getting clean and redeemed, but also his "stupid school-girl crush" on husk.

this turned into something way longer than i intended lol, but my point is that since angel is gonna experience heartbreak we know it has to involve husk, and with husk's habit of guilt-tripping angel... i think it will need to blow up at some point and be seriously discussed.

i also think we need to see the 'it gets worse before it gets better' side of recovery bc obviously it's unrealistic that now that angel is a serious resident of the hotel, his addictions are just gonna magically disappear. and i think that's gonna cause some misunderstanding and turmoil with not only husk, but also our main cast.

#hazbin hotel #huskerdust #angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #angel dust x husk #husk x angel dust #writing #thoughts

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javier-pena · 4 months

Text

embers

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!reader

Word Count: 9.5k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You're engaged to be married to a man you've never met. Arthur Morgan is supposed to escort you across the country to meet him. You should keep your distance, but the dangers of the road bring you closer and closer together with each passing mile.

Notes: So there's this post ... and It has been on my mind for months so I had to write this exact scenario with Arthur, naturally. Again, this is way longer than it was supposed to be, but working on this fic allowed me to daydream a lot, so I can't complain. As always, I wouldn't have been able to do it without Dani @alexturner, who pushed me in the right direction and came up with the ending (because I'm not good at writing those)!!

***

You’re not pretty. At least that’s what everyone told you from the moment you could understand those words. Your mother, the maid she hired to look after you, the boys working for your father, the marm, the people in town. Since you were little, you’ve been hearing it over and over again. “It’s such a shame she ain’t pretty, what’s she gonna do with brains?”

The thing is, you also don’t feel very smart. If you were, you’d have found a way to leave your godforsaken town for one of the big cities in the east as soon as you could read the timetable down by the train station. You would’ve found a way to get out of this marriage your father arranged for you. Ambrose Longabaugh was his name. Ambrose Longabaugh. From what you have heard, he shares your lot: anything but handsome, but at least he has money.

No one was sad to see you go, save for your little brother, who held you tight and made you promise to come back if you didn’t like your betrothed. You had promised, knowing you were lying. It didn’t matter if you liked him or not, he was the man you were going to marry. You weren’t getting out of this. Your father had made sure of that.

Mr. Morgan is riding ahead of you, sitting in the saddle with his shoulders slumped, a cigarette dangling between his lips. You can smell the smoke on the crisp fall air, even though you’re trying to keep your distance. It’s not that he scares you – not as much as other men do, not as much as your future husband does – but you don’t like him very much. Your father is paying him to take you out west where Ambrose Longabaugh will one day take over his father’s cattle business. And Mr. Morgan is doing it without complaint, hardly acknowledging your presence. He talks more to his horse than he talks to you.

You let your eyes wander across the mountains around you and sigh. The first time you had seen them, your mouth had hung open in awe. Now you feel trapped by them. You can’t go back, and there’s only one way forward. You sigh again. No, you’re neither pretty nor smart.

“Break?” Mr. Morgan asks from up front. It’s only the fifth word he has said to you today; the others were good morning and let’s go.

“Yes,” you agree, not because you need it but because it gives you something else to do.

You stop near a small river with a shallow bank where Mr. Morgan can refill your waterskins. While he’s busy, you stretch your legs and pick up a few rocks from the riverbed to toss them into the water. The rushing of the water fills your ears, drowning out both thoughts and sounds. You take a deep, calming breath and close your eyes.

When you open them again, Mr. Morgan has taken off his lambskin coat and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. He’s washing his face and neck in the cold water of the river, a wet stain forming on his collar, drops running down his lean, muscular forearms that are still tan from working outdoors all summer. Your face heats up with an emotion you don’t quite understand, and you turn away from him, pretending to be interested in some moss-covered rocks. You’re not supposed to look.

He startles you when he touches your arm lightly, making you turn around. You hadn’t heard him coming over the sounds of the river. His coat is back on, but you can see his neck glistening in a few places still.

“You shouldn’t wander, ma’am,” he says. That’s four more words for today.

You look around. “Indians, right?” you ask with a small laugh.

His face remains serious. “No. White men. Gangs. They like to hide out here.”

You watch his Adam’s apple move as he swallows and your throat immediately mimics his. “Then why are we taking this road if it’s so dangerous?”

He shrugs. You realize he hasn’t let go of your arm yet. “It’s fast.”

“My father –”

“Your father planned this route.”

You swallow again. “I’ll be careful, sir. Thank you.” He lets go of your arm then, and you walk back to your horse, your face now heating up with an emotion you definitely recognize: embarrassment.

You make camp later that day where the trees are standing close together. While he builds a fire, you pick at a pine cone you found on the ground. Somewhere in the distance you hear a howl, but you’ve learned that if it’s not loud enough to make Mr. Morgan look up from his task, then it’s nothing to be worried about. And he stokes the fire, eyes fixed to the flames.

After dinner, he hands you a small bottle and when the sharp taste of whiskey makes you cough, he smirks. So you take another sip, holding his gaze. He looks away first, pulls a torn-up pack of cigarettes from his coat, and offers you one. You accept, surprised.

“Don’t let my father find out you’re corrupting me,” you tease.

He only makes, “Hm,” in response.

The smoke from the cigarette burns your throat, just like the whiskey, but this time you manage to suppress the cough. “Do you have family, Mr. Morgan?” you ask, watching how he uses a branch to stoke the fire.

“No,” is his simple reply.

Now it’s your turn to make, “Hm,” before you add, “No one you’re sweet on?”

You don’t really care about the answer, why would you? But when he gives you another, “No,” a careful one, it makes your heart pound faster. Until he turns the tables.

“What about you?”

“Oh,” you say, “I don’t know, I haven’t met my fiancé yet.” And you don’t want to be thinking about him right now.

Mr. Morgan looks at you, his head cocked to one side. “Come now,” he pushes, as if you’re being evasive on purpose. “That ain’t what I’m askin’.”

You sigh. “It’s not? I’m spoken for. I have no business thinking about other men.” You don’t mean to be so frank, but the words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. And you can tell from the look on Mr. Morgan’s face that he still thinks you’re not honest with him.

“Hm,” he makes, and you dread what might be coming next.

“I’m going to bed,” you tell him, putting an end to your conversation. He opens his mouth to add something, but you don’t give him a change. You lie down and pull your thin blanket over your body, face hot with embarrassment. The last thing you see before falling asleep is Mr. Morgan staring at the flames, a quiet smile on his lips.

Later that night, you wake up to shouts. What pulls you from your sleep entirely is a gunshot that reverberates through the forest. “Mr. Morgan?” you shout, because he isn’t sitting next to the fire anymore and you can’t see him anywhere. Then you hear a sound that makes your blood run cold, a snarl, a growl, but animalistic, wild, unlike anything you’ve ever heard. You jump up from your bedroll, ready to run, but then you remember Mr. Morgan’s warning. It’s better to stay here, in the light of the dwindling fire, than to take your chances out there. “Mr. Morgan?” you try again, this time a hiss, as you frantically search the darkness beyond your camp. It gets so dark out here at night.

A shout is your answer, a deep, “Hey!” Short and fast. The horses whinny, and you’re only now realizing they’re stomping the ground, tearing up the soil with their hooves, the whites in their eyes visible, ears pressed tightly back. You try to swallow your panic, but it gets harder with every passing second.

Then something moves between the trees and Mr. Morgan stumbles back into the camp, a gun in one hand, a torch in the other. He has a wild look in his eyes too, just like the horses, but when they land on you, he relaxes, his face assuming its usual, stoic mask. “Mountain lion,” he says. “It’s gone.”

“What does that mean?” you ask, your voice trembling.

“Chased it off,” he explains. “It ain’t coming back here.”

“The horses …,” you start.

But he walks toward the fire, toward you. “You did good,” he says, dropping to his knees next to you, so close, too close. You can smell the gunpower on him, and the sweat; you’ve never been so close to a man before, not even your own father. “Here.” He hands you the whiskey again. “It’s gone, I promise.”

You wish your hands wouldn’t shake so much. He grabs yours with one to steady, his warm skin like fire against yours, unscrews the stopper with the other, not with impatience but oh so gently. You manage to take a sip on your own, but he watches you intently for any signs of distress.

“You’ll have to get used to it,” he says, stowing away the bottle. “This land out here … it’s wild.”

You nod. Now that the initial burst of panic is dulled, you feel tears sting your eyes.

“But you’ll manage.” His voice is so calming. “You’re a brave girl.”

*******

The hooves of your horse pound out a slow, steady beat against the hard ground. You’re tired, every muscle in your body is sore, but you push on without complaint, following Mr. Morgan up a winding mountain and back down on the other side. The days are so similar they’re bleeding into one – the mountain lion … did it attack three nights ago? Five? You don’t remember. All you know is that your heart picks up speed when he looks at you, that every evening your conversation around the fire becomes a little bit longer, that you wish you could go on like this forever, never to arrive at your destination.

Sometimes at night, when you can’t sleep but you pretend to, you can hear him sing, sometimes to himself, sometimes to the horses. Your heart almost flies out of your chest when he does it. He hasn’t touched you anymore since the night of the mountain lion attack, but you wish he would. Even though everything else about him confuses you, you wish you could feel his skin against yours again; such longing, it almost consumes you.

Is this what it’s supposed to feel like? Did your cousin feel like this when she ran off with that cowboy? Did your mother and father feel like this; is that why they got married? Are you supposed to feel like this when you meet your fiancé? Or is this something else entirely? Is there something wrong with you?

“Break?” he asks once the ground is beginning to even out.

“You know, you keep asking for breaks so much I’m starting to think you don’t want us to reach our destination,” you tease.

He just shrugs and stops his horse. You halt too and climb off, your legs steady when they hit the ground. It wasn’t like that in the beginning; the first few days he had to help you off your horse and you could barely stand. It’s astonishing what a difference a few weeks can make.

You stretch, then begin to walk up and down the path. It’s cold, sitting so still up on that horse, and you flex your fingers, trying to get some feeling back into them. Mr. Morgan, meanwhile, sits down on a tree stump to write in a leather-bound notebook. You’ve seen him use it before but you don’t quite know what it’s for. He’s probably tracking your progress or taking notes on the weather.

Careful to keep him in sight, you veer off into the underbrush, looking at the trees and the different kinds of plants growing on the ground. You pretend you can read the language of the forest, looking for tracks of animals or some mushrooms you might be able to eat. Just like you’ve seen Mr. Morgan do countless of times. When you do find something, you’re not sure what to make of it.

“Mr. Morgan?” Your voice is raised as you try to keep it steady.

You hear his footsteps immediately but you don’t dare to turn around, your eyes fixed on the sight before you. He stops next to you, and you can hear his steady breathing. The knot in your chest immediately dissolves.

“Hm,” he makes.

“What happened here?” you ask. Now the tremor in your voice is all too audible.

He hesitates just for a second, weighing his options, but then he says, “Some people were camping here, a family by the looks of it.”

“Where are they?” you ask, finally turning toward him. The cold, calculating look on his face sends a shiver down your spine.

“Ma’am …,” he says slowly.

“You can tell me. I can handle the truth.”

You look back at the burned-out wagon, the torn clothes hanging from tree branches, all that blood on a log next to a cold fire pit. You don’t need him to tell you. You just want him not to confirm your suspicions.

“They’re dead,” he answers. “Killed. For money.”

“All of them?” you ask.

He winces. “If there were women …”

“Can’t we help them?” You know you can’t, but you wish there was something you could do.

“Stay on the path next time,” he growls. “No more wanderin’ ‘round … ma’am.”

“Mr. Morgan …,” you try, but he’s already trudging back toward the horses.

You spend the rest of the day in silence, riding next to each other but avoiding each other’s gazes. You shouldn’t have called out to him; it was obvious what had happened in that camp. They were a group, and you’re just two people … your father couldn’t have known about the dangers of this journey, or he wouldn’t have made you go. He would’ve found another way. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself. Because you don’t want to even consider the other option and what it would mean. When the sun slowly disappears behind the mountains around you, dread settles onto your heart, the heavy kind you haven’t felt since you were a little girl, afraid of the dark.

Finally, Mr. Morgan stops his horse. “We camp here tonight. No fire.”

“It’s so dark,” you whisper.

“The darkness ain’t what’ll kill you,” he growls.

You can’t sleep; of course not. So you watch him all night, sitting up straight next to you, not so close that you could touch him, but close enough so you’ll always see he’s there. He doesn’t sleep either but he sits very still, keeping his eyes on the path, making sure nothing evil comes out of the dark. And you wish all you had to worry about were mountain lions.

*******

Two days later, Mr. Morgan’s face is pale and you’re frozen through. You haven’t had a warm meal since you found that destroyed camp, and Mr. Morgan has barely slept. You haven’t talked at all, apart from the necessities. And still you haven’t left those mountains and woods behind you. At least the daylight makes you feel less afraid.

“Is it far still?” you ask when the silence becomes unbearable.

“A week,” he answers, looking up at the sky, “if it doesn’t snow.”

The weather is the least of your worries. “And how long before we’re past the mountains?” You hate them now as much as they awed you at first.

“Three days maybe.”

Three more days without warm food. You straighten your back. “Have you come this way before?”

“Yes.”

“Has anything ever happened to you?” You don’t know if you’d prefer confirmation or denial.

“You’re safe with me, so don’t you worry about that.” There’s something in the way he says it that makes your grip tighten on the reins.

“I’m not worried,” you lie. “Just curious.”

“Hm,” he makes before going back to observing the surroundings with caution. “Bad people are everywhere. Not just here.”

“That’s a grim way to look at the world.” You try for a teasing tone, but it sounds like you’re reprimanding him instead.

“You ain’t seen much of it then,” he replies.

“More than you know.”

He looks at you curiously, just for a moment. “You –” he starts, but a shout ahead on the path interrupts him.

“Hey!”

You almost jump out of your skin and stop your horse reflexively. That’s your first mistake. The second one is to shout, “Arthur!” Because it costs him valuable seconds, that distraction. He turns around to look at you, and then suddenly two men are on him, pulling him out of the saddle. Two more appear next to you, a young, handsome one with a dark mustache and darker eyes, and a man your father’s age, but scrawny, with a mouth full of yellow teeth that he exposes to you in an ugly grin. You pull on the reins and your horse dances nervously, ears pressed tightly against its head. And then you hear a shot.

A fifth man stands in the middle of the path, a smoking gun held high over his head. His thick, gray beard quivers as he shouts, “Everybody stay calm and no one is gonna get hurt!”

You look at Mr. Morgan for guidance and see him struggle against the two men who are restraining him by holding his arms tightly pressed against his back. His pants are dirty from where he hit the ground when they pulled him off his horse.

“Get her down from there,” the man with the gray beard barks, and before you can do anything, thin but strong fingers have closed around your arm and you tumble out of the saddle with a shout.

The man who is holding you stinks of rotting things and nicotine. He twists one of your arms until it is pressed flush against your back and uses his other hand to hold your chin, so you’re forced to look straight ahead at the man with the mustache.

“Pretty little thing, ain’t she?” he snarls, and the other man licks his lips.

“We just want your valuables,” Graybeard says to Mr. Morgan.

“We ain’t got any,” he growls.

“I’m sure you don’t,” is the calm answer as Graybeard starts going through the saddlebags of Mr. Morgan’s horse.

You roll your shoulders but the man with the rotting teeth only tightens his hold on you. His companion takes a few careful steps toward you. A lump is forming in your throat as you begin to realize just how dangerous this situation is. You try to kick back, like a horse, but you miss your captor. It only earns you a cruel laugh and a pinch to your cheek.

Somewhere to your right, you hear a dull thud and a pained groan coming from Mr. Morgan. You try to look at him, but you can’t move, not because you’re being restrained but because fear has taken over your body and you can’t do anything but relinquish control.

“Check her horse,” Graybeard orders, but the man with the mustache doesn’t move. He’s only a few steps away from you now, his eyes hungrily roaming over your body. “Now!” Graybeard barks.

“There isn’t -,” you start, but the man who is restraining you clamps a hand over your mouth. You could vomit when you taste his skin.

“There’s this,” the man with the mustache says, holding up a cheap necklace your mother gave you as a parting gift.

“Take it,” Graybeard orders.

“What about her?” the rotting man asks and shakes you.

“Her too,” Graybeard answers with a nod. “Shoot the man.”

“No!” you shout, even though it makes the disgusting man get more of his fingers in between your lips.

The man with the mustache stuffs your mother’s necklace into the pocket of his jacket, then walks over to you. You can hear the blood rushing in your ears as he grips your skirt and begins to pull it upward so your boots and then your drawers are slowly exposed. A hot tear rolls down your cheek but it only makes him smile.

“I bet you’re lovely.” His voice is deep, almost as deep as Mr. Morgan’s, but hearing him speak only fills you with revulsion. “I bet you’re all tight …” He lightly strokes your cheek, then uses his free hand to unbutton his trousers.

“No!” you shout again, but it’s muffled, and your feeble attempts to free yourself are met with an evil snicker.

Then you hear a shot and all the life goes out of your body. It’s done. You’re alone now. And if you’re lucky, you’ll soon be dead too. Two more shots ring through the forest, each one as painful as if you’ve been hit by the bullets yourself. The man with the mustache doesn’t even flinch. His trousers hang open now, and you can see dark hairs peek out from between the fabric, before he cups one of your breasts hard and licks a broad stripe up your neck.

The other man moans, low, wetly, and it’s the most disgusting sound you’ve ever heard. He lets go of you, but it’s too late; you can’t run anymore. A wet, dull sound is followed by another moan, and you know exactly what he’s doing. You’ve heard people talk about it, even though you don’t quite know what it means when a man touches himself. All you know is that you feel bile rise at the thought of it.

The man with the mustache freezes and looks behind you, his eyes wide with shock. Maybe they have a different bargain, maybe he wants to keep you for himself and feels threatened. But then, so fast he’s only a blur, Mr. Morgan rushes past you, grabs the man by his collar, and pulls him off you, landing a punch against his jaw. You blink a few times as both men go down, not sure if what you’re seeing is real or if it’s a vision your panicked brain conjured up to calm you. The man with the mustache lands a kick between Mr. Morgan’s legs, gaining the upper hand. He pulls a knife from his boot while he straddles your companion to pin him down, but Mr. Morgan doesn’t hesitate. He grabs the man’s arm and bites down until he lets go of the knife. You catch a glimpse of Mr. Morgan’s eyes and where you expected him to be all feral rage, he’s cold and calculating. It sends a shiver down your spine and you stumble back a few paces until you step into something soft that squelches on impact. You don’t have to look down to know what it is.

Despite the loss of his knife, the man with the mustache is putting up a good fight. He lands a blow in Mr. Morgan’s face, then scrambles off him, grabs the knife, and pushes himself upward. Mr. Morgan moves faster than you’ve ever seen him move, jumping up while dodging the glinting blade of the knife.

“Stay down, big boy,” the man sneers.

Mr. Morgan shoves into him with such force the knife ends up in the dirt again, right next to the two men. But this time, Mr. Morgan has the upper hand, landing blow after blow in the face of the other, grunting with grim satisfaction when he draws blood, continuing even when the man retches up blood and spits it in Mr. Morgan’s face. He doesn’t stop until the man doesn’t move anymore and his face is nothing more than a bloody pulp, entirely unrecognizable. Only then does he grunt in pain and rolls off his opponent, lying on the forest floor, breathing labored and hard.

*******

You make camp that night as far away from that spot as you could travel before the light faded. Mr. Morgan gets a fire going while you sit on a log, trying to hide your trembling hands in your lap. You haven’t cried yet but you know it’s coming. He hasn’t said anything yet, and you’re not sure he will.

In the flickering light of the fire, you can see the cuts and bruises in his face, the sleeve of his shirt drenched in blood. And when you close your eyes, you can see the five dead men, their broken bodies left in the dirt for scavengers to feed on. He did that, all on his own.

You force yourself to stand up and walk over to him. He’s not the man who calmed you down after a mountain lion attack anymore; you’ve seen him beat a man to death today with his bare hands. No, he’s someone new now, someone you have to get to know first. And when you crouch down next to him, he looks at you with dark eyes like he’s never looked at you before and you feel all the air being pressed out of you.

“Let me take a look at your arm,” you say, pulling it toward you by his hand. The dried blood on his knuckles is rough against your skin.

He doesn’t protest, just watches as you carefully roll up his sleeve to expose a deep cut, undoubtedly left by the knife. It must have happened so fast you missed it. Even though it’s not bleeding as much as it used to, each pump of Mr. Morgan’ heart pushes some more blood out through the cut.

“You need stitches,” you tell him.

Before you can second-guess what you’re doing or change your mind, you’re next to your saddlebag, looking for the sewing kit your bother gave you. Only you’ve never used it for something like this before. You don’t even know if it’ll work, only ever having read about it in books, but it’s better than doing nothing. You also grab the bottle of whiskey from Mr. Morgan’s bag.

“Drink this,” you order, handing it to him once you’re next to him again.

He takes one big swallow, then another one, his throat working to get the liquid down. You pretend not to notice. Then he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand while you stare at the cut with much more focus than necessary. Taking back the bottle, you pour some of its content on the cut, drawing a low groan from Mr. Morgan that heats up your cheeks.

Your hands are shaking as you try to thread the needle. “Have you ever done this before?” Mr. Morgan asks, his face stoic as if he’s ready to accept his fate no matter the answer you give him.

“Technically, no,” you answer, finally pushing the thread through the eye.

“Huh,” he grunts.

“But I’m very good at mending stockings.” You offer him a feeble smile and he nods. “This might hurt a little bit,” you warn before pushing the needle through his skin. Holding his arm in place with your other hand, you can feel his muscles flex at the intrusion, and a short burst of breath tickles the top of your head. He doesn’t complain.

“Have you ever been stitched up before?” you ask him to distract him.

“No,” he replies through gritted teeth.

“Oh, good. Then you have to believe me when I tell you I’m doing a very good job.” What’s wrong with you?

He grunts again, but maybe, possibly that sound could be hiding a laugh.

“Still, when we arrive at our destination, you should have a doctor look at this,” you instruct.

“Eager to hear from a professional how good of a job you did?”

Your cheeks ignite and you drop the needle. “Shit.” He is laughing now, a low chuckle, as you try to locate a glint in the flickering light from the campfire. Luckily, you don’t have to look far – the needle fell straight down and is lying between Mr. Morgan’s boots. You wipe strands of hair from your face, then wipe the needle clean on your dress before getting back to work.

“No,” you answer his question, forcing your voice to sound steady. “Because I have no idea how to prevent an infection. Or if I’m even doing this correctly.”

Mr. Morgan leans down, his big hand closing around the bottle you discarded earlier, and he unscrews the cap with his thumb and forefinger. “Looks to me like you’re doin’ fine.” A big swig, then another one.

You glance up at him just to see his face looking unusually pale. “Does it hurt a lot?” you ask carefully.

“I’ve had worse,” he answers, but flinches when one of your stitches comes too close to the wound.

You blink fast a couple of times, trying to shake the image of him on top of that man, punching and punching until no trace of life was left. The memory of the sheer brutality makes your hands feel clammy. No, this wasn’t his first time getting hurt, just like it wasn’t his first time killing someone. And now the same hands rest peacefully in his lap, cut and bruised, yes, but a far cry from the deadly weapons you saw today.

“Thank you for what you did today,” finishing up with two final stitches, then quickly add, “There,” and pet his arm before he can acknowledge your words of gratitude.

He lifts his hand from his leg and flexes his fingers. “Thanks for this,” he replies, examining the stitches.

Your gaze lands on his knuckles that are covered in blood, his own and that of the men he killed. “Do you want me to take a look at your hands?” you ask, your throat tight all of a sudden.

“I’m used to that.” He stretches out one of his legs so it rests next to you, close enough that you feel the ghost of a presence next to your hip.

“I’ve never met a man who was used to so much violence.” Your eyes are still on his hands, bruised darkly.

“It was either them or us.” He shrugs.

Us. “I was sure they had killed you when I heard that first gunshot,” you tell him, lowering your gaze to your own hands that have some dirt on them, some streaks of Mr. Morgan’s blood, but that look so clean compared to his.

“And break the contract with your father?”

You laugh. “A father who selected this route knowing full well about the dangers we would face?” The silence that follows your question is filled only by the crackle of the campfire and by the sounds of creatures moving through the woods. “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you,” you finally say.

“This ain’t the first time I had to save someone,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“And how did those other people repay you?” you ask, eager for his answer. Being indebted to him puts you on edge.

“Money,” is his short reply.

“I don’t have any,” you say, feeling a tug at your heartstrings. But maybe that doesn’t matter; maybe when you arrive, you could talk to your fiancé. He’ll want to reward the man who defended your honor and saved you from a horrible fate. Still, you wish there was something you could be doing for him right now. “There’s also other ways,” you say, very slowly.

“Hm,” he makes, a sound that has started to fill you with a certain warmth for reasons you can’t quite explain. Then he shifts, moves his legs a little further apart. And you’re there right between them, looking up into his face that betrays nothing except for the smallest glint in his eyes.

You’ve never even kissed a man, but you’re not stupid. You know what certain gestures and movements mean. You’ve watched your father’s hands when a woman walked past them, you’ve attended dances where everyone around you was getting drunk … growing up on a farm, you’ve seen things. But you also know that those things are wrong and they should only be happening between husband and wife behind closed doors, no matter what everyone else is doing.

It's getting harder to breathe, and you feel a tug low in your stomach, almost like an ache. You’ve never felt anything like this before and you can’t quite place it, but the way he looks at you, mouth slightly opened, his eyes deep and dark, only fuels that sensation. And when you think back to this afternoon, it becomes so strong it makes you shift on your knees.

“You’re a pretty little thing.”

It’s the second time today someone has said that about you. Whereas the first time made your skin crawl, the second time makes your cheeks heat up and your breath get stuck in your throat. You notice that Mr. Morgan unbuckles his belt, eyes locked to yours, and you make sure your gaze stays on his face. It’s only when he groans and his eyelids flutter shut that you look down and see he has his hand wrapped around himself, moving it up and down his length with sure strokes. Something in you is released at that sight.

“Here, let me,” you offer, shuffling closer on your knees until you’re trapped between his legs.

Before you can think better of it, you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock. It’s warmer than you expected, feels heavier than you thought when you move your hand up in the same move you saw him use. He groans again, louder this time, and removes his hand, resting it on your arm. You tremble.

Back home, you were taught that what a wife does in the bedroom is fulfilling the duty to her husband. It sounded neither pleasant nor enjoyable, and so far, you’ve managed to push the thoughts of what is awaiting you at your destination from your mind. But your mother couldn’t have meant this, because this doesn’t feel like duty at all. You stroke the tip of his cock with your thumb, he tightens the grip on your arm in return, and you feel a surge of pride well up. No, your mother couldn’t have been talking about this.

Eager to try more, you twist your wrist on the downstroke, then lower your head and kiss the tip of his cock. He growls this time, and his hand lands on the back of your head, pushing you down. You have no choice but to open your mouth further and take him in. The weight of him presses down against your tongue, the tip of him brushing the back of your throat makes you gag as tears shoot to your eyes. He grips your hair, pulls you off, then pushes you back down again, and you got it. It’s not so different from the hand.

Steadying him at the base with a tight grip, you pull off him again, but let your tongue run along the underside, the sharp taste of him filling every corner of your mouth. It will take some getting used to, but you’re determined to get this right, and from the way his hand trembles at the back of your head, you have a feeling you might be.

You close your eyes, focusing on taking him as deeply inside as possible because he seems to enjoy that. Sometimes, when you think there isn’t any room left, he pushes you onto his cock that little bit further and then groans contently, a sound that tightens parts of your body you didn’t know could tighten. You run your tongue over the tip of him, hum around him when your mouth is full of him, just to find out what kind of sounds you can draw from him. If this is what it’s like, you can’t imagine why anyone would call this a duty.

Mr. Morgan stiffens and pushes his hips upward so you take even more of him into your mouth. This time you can’t help the gagging sound pushing past him. But instead of forcing you to take more, he grips a handful of your hair and pulls you off. Your mouth feels strangely empty for a moment, even though his taste lingers, and you blink in confusion. Was that it?

You lick your lips and look up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something. But he’s quiet, only placing his forefinger under your chin to tilt your head back a little more. For some reason, that gesture leaves you breathless. And you know why a second later when his lips lock onto yours and your breaths mingle, and you suddenly understand why people would kill for this. Why he killed for you.

You can’t help the moan that comes out of your mouth, don’t even realize at first that the sound is coming from you. His hand glides to the back of your head to grip you and hold you in place, and you push yourself toward him, one hand on his arm, the other on his thigh. He licks into your mouth and you try to mirror him, feeling a strange sense of pride when he opens up for you.

He pulls away, holding you in place by the hair at the nape of your neck. “Did you like havin’ me in your mouth?” he asks and his voice is so low you barely recognize it.

“Yes, Mr. Morgan,” you answer, and you also almost don’t recognize your own.

“Oh, you’re somethin’,” he says with a wicked smile, then stands and pulls you with him.

Your legs are trembling and your knees threaten to give way when he kisses you again, pressing his entire body to yours. Just when you think you could spend eternity like this, he closes his arms around your backside and lifts you up, so you don’t have any chance but to sling your legs around his middle. You squeal against his lips, but he just carries you past the campfire toward your bedroll. Beneath your palms, you can feel the muscles in his shoulders and arms flex and tighten with each step. Something in your stomach flutters as you remember he's strong enough to beat a man to death.

Before you know what you’re doing, you’re kissing his jaw and neck, biting down on a tendon that’s jutting out with the effort of keeping you in his arms. When he rumbles deep in his chest, you flick out your tongue to lick across the spot in apology, but he drops you to your feet. You both stand there for a second, looking at each other with heaving chests. His hands come up to grip the neckline of your dress, and he pulls, a tearing sound echoing through the trees. Your torn dress crumbles to the ground around you, exposing your undergarments, and even though your first instinct is to cover up you don’t because he pulls his shirt over his head to expose his naked chest beneath, and that sight is enough to distract you from any embarrassment you might be feeling.

His pants are next, and then he stands before you stark naked. You try to touch his stomach with a trembling hand, but he grabs your wrist and pushes you down to the ground. With precise movements, he pulls off your drawers, taking your shoes with them, then tears open your corset to expose your breasts. Your breath hitches when he cups one in his calloused hand and squeezes, making pleasure spike through your body.

You kiss him again, lean into his touch, and then you discover you can make him tighten his hold on you by licking over his bottom lip. You can make him press his hard length against you by moaning in pleasure. It feels so, so good to have this effect on him, to be able to do that to him without words. Never, in a million years, would you have expected that giving yourself to a man would feel like this, would make heat blossom at the base of your spine, would make you ache between your legs. You shove your fingers into his hair, deepening the kiss, and he sighs against your lips, a sound that makes your knees weak. How can all of this make you feel so good yet fill you with a hunger you don’t know how to satiate?

You run your nails over his scalp, testing to see what other sounds you can elicit from him, when he suddenly shifts both your bodies, pushing you to the ground while caging you in with his body. Your heart hammers in your chest so hard it’s almost painful, but even when your back is uncomfortably pressed against your thin bedroll, you still crane your neck to keep kissing him. God, why can’t you get enough of him?

With a sharp slap against your knee that sends another spike of pleasure through your body, he pushes your legs apart, then draws back to look at you. His lips are red and swollen, and both shadow and light are dancing across his face in quick succession. You reach up to touch his cheek, but he catches your wrist and pins it down next to your head with so much strength it steals the breath from your lungs.

“You’re the prettiest little lady I’ve ever seen,” he mumbles.

You feel your face heat up, but he doesn’t notice how flustered you are. With his free hand, he grabs himself, then lines himself up between your legs. You watch, eyes wide, breathing so fast your head is starting to swim. What comes next is a pressure that is not painful but not quite pleasurable either. And the more it pushes, the more it hurts.

“Stop,” you say, your voice not more than a whisper.

Either he doesn’t hear you or he’s ignoring you, but he continues to push up into you, and now it’s so painful you’ve lost all sense of pleasure entirely.

“Stop,” you try again, bracing your hands against his shoulders, trying to push him off you. He’s too strong for you. “Arthur, stop!” you bellow.

And he hears you. He immediately withdraws, and you scramble to sit up, pulling away from him as best as possible on the small bedroll.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, and the concern in his voice makes you look at him.

“Yes,” you answer, hugging your knees to your chest. You wish you weren’t so naked.

“Have you ever …?” He doesn’t need to finish the question for you to know what he means.

You shake your head.

A deep, red flush creeps up his chest and neck. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I didn’t know. I wouldn’t –”

“It’s alright,” you interrupt him, his apology embarrassing rather than harming you. “You didn’t know.”

“The way you were kissin’ me …” He trails off again.

Your ears prick up at the compliment. “It all felt … good,” you stutter. “More than good. It’s just …”

“I can … we can slow down,” he offers. “If you still want …”

You look at him, kneeling before you, his skin glowing orange in the light from the fire. His dick is slowly softening between his legs, goosebumps are covering his arms, but he is showing you all of himself without shame. That bold display of his body makes your blood heat up again, but you hesitate. Touching his naked skin is one thing, giving yourself to him entirely is something you’ve been warned of your entire life. And yet … now that you’ve pushed through the initial shock, you slowly realize your body is demanding to feel him again.

You nod. “Yes. I still … I want you.”

Your cheeks are fever-hot, but the way his eyes light up is worth the embarrassment you feel. Arthur moves toward you, loosening the hold you have on yourself, and you relax, dropping your knees, letting him come even closer. He smirks, his eyes darting to your lips and then back up again before he leans in for a searing kiss, and it feels like the last few minutes didn’t happen at all. Without breaking the kiss, he reaches for your wrist, then slowly guides your hand between your own legs, while you tremble in anticipation. He doesn’t touch you, but when he presses your own fingers against all that heat and wetness, you moan deeply.

Arthur breaks the kiss first. “I want you to play with yourself,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear.

“I don’t …,” you start, suddenly unsure.

“Yeah, I know.” He kisses your neck. “You’re gonna figure it out though.”

You take a deep breath and nod, and when he captures your lips for another kiss, you move your fingers over yourself in a motion that makes pleasure shoot through your entire body. A shaky pant escapes you and lands on his mouth, turning his lips into a smirk even while he’s kissing you.

“There you go,” he whispers.

You find a rhythm and pace that makes you feel like you’re about to explode but that doesn’t light the final fuse, and he continues to kiss you for a while before drawing back to watch the hand between your thighs. Any shame you could have felt is replaced by pure lust when you see the arousal in his eyes; you shift to open your legs further, and he raises his eyes in surprise. You shift under his searing gaze and moan when you notice his hand closing around the base of his cock.

You’ve never felt like you’re feeling right now, completely in control but also like you’re surrendering yourself to him. It’s so addictive it makes you wonder how people don’t want to feel like this all the time. “It feels so good,” you groan, struggling to get the words out because your teeth are clenched.

“You’re so pretty,” is Arthur’s answer as he moves his hand up and down his length.

You can’t help but believe him. “I love you strong you are,” you return the compliment, and before you can think better of it, you raise your free hand and cup your breast, squeezing your nipple.

His eyes lock onto your chest. “Fuck.” Pleasure shoots through you from the tip of your toes to the top of your head. “You’re such a good girl,” he adds, and it makes your heart flutter so painfully you feel like it’s about to fly out of your chest.

“Say that again,” you demand, not recognizing yourself at all.

Arthur shifts closer until he’s right between your legs, fisting himself eagerly. You can smell the sweat and arousal on him, a scent so overpowering you wish you could bury your nose in his skin and inhale it forever. “My pretty, brave girl,” he says, and when you lower your gaze, too overwhelmed by what his words make you feel, he grips your chin and lifts your head. “Oh no, you’re gonna look at me.” You blink once but don’t lower your head again. “Yeah, that’s it.” He smirks. “Look at you … so eager to please me. You should see yourself right now … goddamn prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.”

You do lower your gaze then because it feels like too much. Your eyes land on his cock, on the tip that’s glistening wetly, and you lick your lips, remembering the feeling of him in your mouth.

“You want me inside of you, don’t you?” Arthur asks, and you nod. His rough, calloused hand closes around your throat and you can’t help it – you move your own hand faster, a crescendo building in the pit of your stomach. “Use your words, pretty girl. I know you can.”

You swallow hard, knowing he can feel your throat move against his grip. “Yes, I want you inside of me.” Your face doesn’t heat up this time as you realize you’re not only saying that to please him. It’s exactly what you want.

He rewards you with a deep kiss, then mumbles against your lips. “Are you ready?”

You hesitate. “I’m not …”

But Arthur doesn’t let you finish. “Let’s find out together.” He leans back. “Finger yourself.” The way his eyes darken when he says it isn’t lost on you.

You shift and move your hand lower, his eyes fixed to your movements. He has stopped moving, his hand grabbing his cock, holding it between his legs. You feel yourself flutter against your fingers in anticipation at the same time as he licks his lips. And then you push the tip of your finger inside of you, past the initial resistance, deeper and deeper until you can’t go any further.

“Breathe,” he instructs and you exhale sharply. “Did that hurt?”

You shake your head before remembering he likes to hear your voice. “No.”

“How does it feel?” he wants to know.

Carefully, you pull your finger out until only the tip remains inside of you, then you push it back in. “Good,” you manage. “Really good.”

“You’re sweet when you can barely talk,” he says with a smirk and the muscles inside you clamp down on your finger. You moan and close your eyes, unable to keep them open. “You like that, don’t you?�� You hear him shift closer. “You like hearing my voice. Bet you’d like me to talk you through it, too.”

Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you feel something building inside you. It’s like a wave that will drown everything out. You lean back further and further until your back connects to the ground, until you can raise your hips to meet your finger, trying to get it as deep inside you as possible.

Then his hand is covering yours and he pushes you to the ground, stilling you. When you open your eyes, you’re met with his, dark with lust, and you’re rewarded with the sight of his chest, flushed so deeply red it looks almost purple. His cock is leaking onto his fingers. “Not yet, sweet girl,” he says in a voice that sounds familiar to the one he uses to calm down his horse. “You’re doing so well, but wait until …”

Arthur removes his hand from yours, but then you feel the tip of his finger right where yours is disappearing inside yourself. You steel yourself for the pain you’re about to feel, but when his finger joins yours, stretching you open, all you feel is pleasure so intense it makes it hard for you to stay conscious.

“Fuck,” you groan, a short outburst, almost like a bark.

“You can say that again.” Arthur’s voice is so husky it’s almost impossible to understand. He cups your hand with his, and then moves the both of you in tandem, pulling back out and pushing back in. You tentatively meet his thrusts by rolling your hips and he growls. “Look at you, spread open just for me.”

You don’t know why his words make you feel like they do, but the muscles between your legs are working hard to keep both your fingers buried as deeply as possible. That earns you a smirk from him and you smile back in return.

“I think you’re ready.” He grips your hand tightly and pulls the both of you out, making you sob. To calm you, he cups your cheek and presses a soft kiss to your lips. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna fill you right back up again.” All you can do is nod.

He positions himself above you, stroking himself a few times, then lining himself up. It’s easier for you to relax this time because you know what to expect, but when he breaches that resisting wall of muscles, you still feel a burn and hiss.

“Shhhh,” he makes and kisses your forehead. “You’re doing so good.”

And then he’s inside of you, stretching you open as much as you can take. His eyes flutter shut and he groans, shifting to adjust himself. “You feel perfect.”

“You’re … you’re big,” you manage, drawing a chuckle from him.

He shifts again, then pulls back out before slamming back into you, making you see stars. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he apologizes immediately.

“No,” you press out through gritted teeth. “Do that again.”

He does, and you grip his arm, burying your nails in his muscle, slinging your other arm around his back. There’s a strange taste in your mouth and you only slowly realize it’s blood from biting down on your bottom lip. He kisses you, licks over the wound, pulls a sharp moan from you. And then he slams into you so hard you scream, clawing at his skin, leaving bloody streaks down his arm and back. The pain only seems to spur him on and when you pant, “Harder,” he doesn’t hesitate.

You clench around his cock in return and he whispers, “I like you like this.” You feel yourself clench again and he groans. “You’re perfect,” he repeats. You kiss his neck, then bite it, until he pushes you back down. “I bet you’ve never had an orgasm before, have you?” You shake your head and he mimics that motion, tapping your bottom lip with his thumb. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“No,” you manage to say, your voice hoarse.

He rocks into you, not as hard and fast as before, but it makes you pant helplessly nonetheless. “Yeah, I thought so,” he mumbles more to himself than to you.

“Please,” you whisper.

He smirks down at you, then shifts his knees ever so slightly to change the angle. Suddenly, he’s brushing against something deep inside of you that makes a sob erupt from deep in your chest.

“Do you even know what you’re asking for?” he teases, but there is a strain in his voice now, as if he’s struggling to hold onto something.

“Please,” you repeat louder, unable to fully grasp the meaning of his question.

Arthur’s thumb is back on your lip and then he pushes it inside your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the tip eagerly, then suck on it, grazing your teeth over his skin. His breathing turns ragged, and the warmth of pride erupts in your chest. With a wet sound, he pulls his thumb out from between your lips and pushes his hand between your bodies until it comes to rest on that small spot you were toying with earlier. You howl and twitch and your whole body erupts. You spill over, you lose sense of where and who you are, you’re shaken by forces beyond your control. All the while, Arthur pounds into you, strokes you inside and out, and you think you hear him say, “That’s it, just let go. You’re so fucking beautiful – just let go.”

As soon as you feel like you can breathe again, he pulls out of you, leaving you aching and empty and cold. Through hooded eyes, you watch as he moves his hand up and down his cock fast until he spills all over his hand and the edge of your bedroll, gaze not directed downwards, but staring at you with insatiable hunger in his eyes. And you return that gaze just as hungrily, wondering what it would feel like to taste his release on your tongue.

Arthur stands unsteadily and retrieves his coat from the other side of the campfire. You feel the cold of the night now and hug your knees to your chest, still trying to make sense of the world. “Now, no more of that,” he says when he gets back, draping his coat over you, the weight of it making your limbs grow soft. He lies down next to you, pressing his front to your back, one arm possessively slung over your chest, the other shoved under your head for you to use as a pillow.

*******

The morning sun is warm on your face as you ride through a slowly thinning forest. The plains and your destination cannot be far from here. Your thoughts are though; they’re still somewhere behind you, stuck at a campfire, busy chasing the feeling of the man next to you between your legs.

When you reach a fork in the path, you stop your horse and look off to your right, back into the forest and the mountains. “What’s back there?” you ask.

Arthur stops his horse next to yours and looks down the path. “Never been over that way,” he answers.

“Do you want to find out?” Your voice is firm, but you don’t look at Arthur.

He’s quiet at first. “Your father –”

“– already paid you,” you finish the sentence.

Arthur nods. “Alright,” he says, then looks back at the path you just put behind you, then off to your right again. “Let’s find out what’s over there.”

***

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction #embers

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buckysegan · 2 months

Text

With all my gratitude, hope and returned adoration - Part Two

Summary: John writes back to his friend from home and we hear from our friend across the way. John x She. Word Count: 1.2k. A/N: we are def rolling with some historical inaccuracies in regards to letters here but sue me. he deserves it. pstttt also should we name her? do you all want to send me random john prompts. my baby isn't ok and i'm not ok. Part one linked here. Part three linked here.

John was sure he wasn't sweating a normal amount as he looked down at the piece of paper that Buck had offered him. It had taken two whole days of questions from the man for Bucky to even decide that he was going to reply. He’d been offered the hope, what more could he ask of her. Could he ask more? There had been a return address on the letter which Buck had insisted was there for a reason and she had opened herself out for a reply from him but the Major couldn’t help but be unsure.

It was an odd feeling for him, before the war he hadn't been unsure of anything and since he’d been here? Well he hadn’t been sober enough to doubt anything that he had done. These days though Bucky felt like he doubted every single thing. The thing was, he wasn't sure that he could afford to doubt this, to look past the life line that had been offered to him. Not when each day he could feel his mind draw a little further toward the edge no matter how much he or Buck tried to keep it in check.

With a sigh he pulled the pen into his hand, eyes locked on the page for a moment before he began to scrawl.

Dear Friend From Home

You’re gunna have to forgive me because I ain’t going to be as good as this as you are. I’ve written so many letters this war you would think that I’d have gotten a handle on it by now but I find myself at a loss when it comes to what to say to you.

I think the first thing I got to say is thank you. I don’t know if the words I can put on paper are ever going to really tell you how much your letter meant to me. See I was a certain type of man that didn’t think much to pen pals. I figured that I’d be ok, you know, that with my boys I’d have what I needed to make it through the hard days but watching the letters for everyone else roll in has been harder than I thought it might.

There are things that I can’t tell you cause I don’t know who might read these letters, and where I am I can’t get you no picture but I can tell you that my favorite dish is a meat and potato pie, simple I know but really I’m a simple hearty kind of guy. What makes me laugh, you asked? That’s kind of simple for me too, just good company, myself sometimes, Buck, he’s my best friend, he makes me laugh a lot. What makes you laugh? I’d like to know that.

May I know where you are? I know that might be a big ask but you said I could ask anything I know and if I get out of here…we get some leave, I’d like to know where I need to ask for me leave to be. Then I can show you what I sound and look like and know that in return.

If this letter doesn’t reach you for a while, know you’ve been with me the whole time.

With all my gratitude, hope and returned adoration

Major John Egan

“What if she doesn’t get it?” He found himself questioning quietly to Buck as he handed over the letter to make it out of camp. His best friend settled him with a soft look, one that always made Bucky feel like he had some worldly knowledge the rest of them had missed out on, that assured him everything was going to be alright. “You just gotta have hope she will John, she’ll get it.”

With a huff Bucky nodded, pulling his hat on as he watched his letter vanish from his view all together. “Alright well I can’t sit here and wonder, I’m off to play baseball or something.”

The letter that Bucky had so carefully handed over changed hands many more times, some fingers as rough as the pilots, some dirtier, some softer, but the last set of fingers to slide the letter from her post box had perfectly manicured fingers. Her flicking of her post was greedy as she looked for the same thing that she had every day since she’d posted her own letter.

At first, her hopes of finding what she was looking for had been unrealistic; she knew that, it hadn’t even been long enough for her letter to be received, let alone for him to get one back to her, then the other girls at the centre, they’d gotten letters back, notes, anything. That was when she had allowed her hope to return, for a moment at least. Days without anything had turned into weeks and then weeks had turned into months. Anything could have happened, that was what she tried to tell herself, he might not have gotten her letter, he might have thought it was weird and had chosen not to reply. That thought was enough to miff her, he could have at least said thank you. When she had decided no one could be that mean, her diminishing hope had turned to worry, what if he hadn't been able to receive her letter.

Flicking through each white envelope today, she almost missed it, how she didn't know because it was clearly different from the rest of them, maybe she hadn't wanted to look. "Not…" Trailing off she flicked back to the second to last letter, her eyes taking in the scrawling of her address, her eyes checking the postage before she was taring inside. "It's here, he wrote it's here." She called through the halls to the other girls that she lived with, all of which had been holding their breath with her. "Oh god I can't read it, what if he's telling me I was weird!" She cried, thrusting the unopened letter into the hands of her eager friend.

"Don't be dramatic, he's going to be throwing down his gratitude at you being a doll, you should have attached a picture with it I told you!" Meg beamed easily back at her, the same sense of reservation missing from her actions as she tore into the letter so that it could be read to the group. "Dear Friend From Home. You’re gunna have to forgive me because I ain’t going to be as good as this as you are. I’ve written so many letters this war you would think that I’d have gotten a handle on it by now but I find myself at a loss when it comes to what to say to you." That was enough, pulling the letter from Megs hands she was quick to scramble away from the group once more, locking herself into her room as re-read the opening line herself, the tears in her eyes only welling even further as she continued.

An ache in her chest formed as she read the words once more, taking in each strike of his pen where he had corrected himself or smudge from whatever he'd had on his fingers. The state of the letter was enough to make her wonder, but at least for now, she knew her friend was ok. He was alive, and he wanted to hear more from her. It couldn't have been normal, to feel this level of emotion for a man that she had never met, but she had found herself here regardless and in the middle of so much uncertainty, she wasn't going to question the pull she felt across the way to England.

Pushing from her bed she moved to her desk, paper pulled from her stationary pot, the quicker she could post this the quicker it could get to him.

"Dear Major Egan,

I'm delighted to hear I'm with you. I hope you know, that you've been with me too…"

#john egan x reader #john egan #master of the air #mota #mota drabble #callum turner #bucky egan

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goingsunnythousandmerry · 28 days

Text

Wound Care

First OneShot. Wrote it awhile ago and thought I’d share and see if I should continue.

Summary: Post Enies Lobby. Chopper is having you, a former nurse patch everyone up while he recovers.

Features: Zoro NSFW, Luffy NSFW/fluff

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, vaginal sex, pet names, inexperience, butt slapping, straddling, slight public/voyeurism. I don’t own these characters.

Wound Care-

Zoro and Luffy

It’s post Enies Lobby and Everyone has taken a beating. You are on the going Merry with the Crew helping them get patched up.You were a nurse before joining the crew and with Chopper still recovering his ability to move you are doing the treating on his orders.

First you take Chopper to the infirmary and get him patched up, then send him to evaluate everyone else. While you wait for your next patient you look in the mirror noticing the blood, dirt, sweat, and tears you are covered in. It was a brutal fight for the whole crew and you barely managed to get away. At this point you were hoping you and Chopper had enough supplies and antibiotics from keeping everyone's wounds from getting infected. To help your cause you try to wash up in the bathroom sink off the infirmary. You open a closet and find your old nurse uniform you brought as a joke to play on Sanji.

“Well it’s clean.” You say to yourself with a shrug and decide to change into the garment.

It was the cliche nurses uniform from back in the day, short white dress with a red plus sign on the right breast. There was a little hat, but you weren’t going to wear it. You had gotten stronger since you last wore it, so it was much more form fitting now. It was cutting lower than you remembered as the zipper wouldn't go up higher than half way up your large breasted chest. It was also hitting a lot higher on your legs than you recalled, barely covering your ass. You shrugged and again convinced yourself it was fine.

“At least it’s clean.” You whisper again with a sigh.

First you treated Nami who came down the stairs, saw you and broke down in a fit of laughter.

“Wow, Y/N you look ridiculous. Don’t let Sanji down here, you'd have to resuscitate him!”

“I just wanted a change of clothes and this was all I could find, but thanks for the advice, Nami.” You reply with a sigh.

You dress her wounds. The whole time she was snickering at your outfit and begging you to put on the little hat. You finally broke and did it, figuring your pride could handle it after the work you just put in, in battle. Nami laughed and thanked you. You asked her to go send for Zoro. As she used the stairs to leave the infirmary, she paused at the top of the steps before opening the door to leave.

“Y/N you look hot, you should dress like that more often!” She yelled back with a laugh and a wink as she opened the door and left.

Zoro

Suddenly the door loudly swung open. Down the steps came Zoro. He paused on the second steps when he saw you. Now Zoro didn’t come down laughing, but he did give you his ridiculously cocky smirk. He then refused to make eye contact with you as he entered the room. You thought you caught a glimpse of redness on his cheeks as he walked towards the patient bed. He sat on the edge of the patient bed while you prepped supplies.

While you prepared supplies, Zoro sat quietly looking at his hands. You could’ve sworn you felt eyes on you still, but whenever you looked at him, he was looking down with his arms folded and that slight cocky grin waiting for you to fix him up. You turned around to begin examining Zoro’s words and heard the door swing open. Down the steps came Chopper. Chopper immediately blushed at your outfit.

“Wow Y/N you look so official! I wish I had a doctor's coat, so we could really do this right!” He says with a swoon.

“Well, Chopper, I will see what material I can scrounge up when we get back to Water 7 and try to make you one? How does that sound?” You reply with a soft smile at the reindeer doctor.

“That wouldn’t make me feel like more of a doctor or anything, you jerk.” He responds as his cheeks light up pink and he begins dancing back and forth.

“Well if you two are just going to play dress up, I’ll go look for some celebratory sake.” Zoro griped.

“Hold it right there, Zoro. You need your wounds cleaned, stitched and patched up! Y/N get a set of vitals when you are done fixing him up, then give him a dose of these antibiotics.” Chopper responded.

“Yes, Doctor Chopper. I’ll get right on it.” You said with a smile as you watched the reindeer swoon and run off.

Zoro sat in silence while you prepared some hot water to clean his wounds.

Finally he broke the silence.

“My wounds aren’t even that bad, why do you need to clean and dress them? They will heal on their own, they always do.”

“Zoro, we all received a lot of open wounds in that battle, which means we are all more susceptible to infection. Meaning, we need to clean and dress them as soon as possible. This also means we will have to examine them regularly over the next few days and make sure we continue to keep them clean and dry, so they don’t get infected. I’ll go as fast as I can. However, if you don’t stop whining I’ll have to ask Chopper for a special exception, a shot of antibiotics in your ass...” You reply knowing the swordsman doesn’t love needles.

“Fine”

“Shirt off please Zoro.”

You scooted a stool in front of the swordsman. He winced as he took off his shirt. He had dried blood scattered across his chest. A few stitches had been pulled from when you patched him up after the fight at the Galley-La office. You rested an arm on his and examined his shoulders and neck for more wounds. He just kept staring down, trying a little too hard to resist the urge to stare at your cleavage.

You next examined his back. Mostly bruising, but you noticed a bit of dried blood. You knew his next shower would probably take that off if he didn’t let you get that far, like usual. You then looked at his pants and noted a rip to his upper thigh. You also needed to look closer at a cut at his hip stretching below his waistline.

“Zoro, I’m going to need pants off too. I have to look at these cuts, they look deep. What are they from?”

“Probably a rock from that giant stupid giraffe.” He says with a grunt.

Zoro rolled his eyes and slowly began reaching for the zipper of his pants. He continues to not make eye contact.

You sit back on your stool in front of him and just watch the show.

“You’re just going to watch me?”

“Yep.”

“First you’re all forward and ask me to take off my shirt and pants and now this? I didn’t come here to be a show for you.” Zoro says as he finishes unzipping and pulling off his pants.

You had guessed he would be a brief guy and well… you were right. You tried not to look too obviously, but his hips and abs without his haramaki were driving you wild. You couldn’t help but wonder what lay beneath those briefs. You take a deep breath and begin soaking another cloth in your bowl of hot water.

“You came here because Chopper made you. Now, you and I both know if I take my eyes off you for a second you will walk off and go take a nap. Chopper will then yell at both of us. I don’t like being yelled at by Chopper. Forgive me for choosing the show. Sit your ass down.”

“I don’t need this. Some sake and a nap would fix me up better than you could.” Zoro retorts sitting down tossing his pants next to him.

You scoot your stool closer and grab the warm cloth out of the basin, pushing it against his leg wound. He squirms.

“They let you be a nurse? What kind of bedside manor is this?” He yells continuing to squirm.

“That’s it!” You say loudly as you stand up from your stool. You push the swordsman back flat against the bed and straddle him. His eyes widen and his whole body tenses underneath you. He grunts as he hits the bed.

“Listen here Zoro. I am cleaning, stitching, and dressing your wounds. I’ll do your leg wound last, because apparently, you are going to continue to kick and whine just like last time. This time, we try a new way, my way. I am going to sit on you and get this done, so you can’t go anywhere. Maybe that will help keep you still. Now shut your mouth and let me work.” You sternly respond as you begin cleaning the wound at his right hip.

“You really don’t think I can lift you off me?” Zoro replies sitting up on his elbows to look you in the eye. His cocky smirk returns and one of his eyebrows raises with inquiry.

“Try me.” You say, briefly making eye contact with him and smirking. You then pull a fresh warm cloth out of the basin and push it on one of his reopened finger pistol wounds on his chest.

“Ahh!” He yelped. Leaning back. After wincing he got back up on his elbows.

“I’ll be gentle if you stay quiet and still.”

You begin lightly scrubbing the dried blood off his wounds and chest. You hadn’t noticed the slight bit of rocking you were doing as you leaned forward into him to clean and lean back to reach beside you to soak your cloth.

Zoro got very quiet and stopped looking at you; he just looks down at his chest. You quickly finish wiping his chest, then do a quick rinse of his right arm.

“Perfect, all clean.” You say examining your work for a moment. You start to look around for your needle and thread. You put your arms on his and gently brush your hands down his arms as you look over his shoulders for your supplies. You continue to shift on his lap as you look. His breathing began to change.

You notice you left them on the rolling table holding your supplies. It must have been bumped when you decided sitting on him was the only way you were going to get this done. It was now up towards the end of the bed by Zoro's head.

“Are you done using me as your seat?” He said once again without looking at you.

“No. Not until I’m done stitching you up and dressing your wounds”.

You pushed him back down against the patient bed and leaned across him to reach the needle and thread. Struggling to grab the thread spool from your position you pawed at it. Not noticing your partially exposed breasts bouncing in the swordsman's face.

You finally grab it and sit back on Zoro’s lap smiling at your triumph to get the thread. When you sit back down however something is different. Zoro’s lap is more raised than before.

You stop looking at the needle and thread and instead glance up at the swordsman. He gets back up on his elbows. His jaw is clenched, his head is turned to the wall beside him, his eyes are closed, and a faint blush rests on his cheeks. He grunts.

“If it wasn’t for your rocking and leaning your chest in my face, everything would have been fine! He blurts, He opens his eyes and turns his head to you, putting his hands on your hips and he sits up fully.

You blush realizing what has happened. You look down at your pelvis one over the other and chuckle.

“Well Zoro here I was thinking you didn’t want your wounds treated. Turns out I was just treating the wrong one.” You say to him naughtily as you spread your legs wider over his rising bulge under his briefs.”

His expression softens and he makes one of his classic cocky smirks.

“Are you going to finally prove to me you can be a good nurse after all?” He whispers in your ear, placing a piece of hair behind it. His left arm wraps around your waist pulling you closer. His right pulls your chin up to his face.

He kisses you gently at first, but gets more eager as he feels your arms wrap around his neck and you kiss him back. He begins to push his tongue into your mouth. You allow it to enter and dance with yours. You begin to rifle fingers through his hair. His right hand dropping from your chin to the zipper on your chest.

“Finally time to get rid of this stupid costume.” he whispers.

He slowly starts kissing down your neck as you pull him closer, fingers still wrapped in his hair. His arms are pulling the dress off your shoulders.

“No bra. I thought so.” He says slowly alternating between kissing and biting your shoulder.

He pulls the dress to your abdomen. Making you moan in his ear. He chuckles at this. He drops one hand to your waist and the other begins playing with your breasts. You begin kissing his neck, lifting your hips up to pull the skirt of your dress up. Zoro’s mouth, now moving to suck and bite at your soft buds.

“Zoro” you barely muster out.

The hand that was playing with your breasts now drops to feel between your thighs. His mouth continues to work at your buds and his fingers rub up and down your slick folds. He stops nipping at your buds a moment to look up at him with a soft chuckle and smirk.

“And no underwear. My we are a naughty one aren't we? And dripping for me already?”

He drops both of his arms to your waist and lifts you off him enough, so he can lift his hips and take off his briefs. You smile intoxicated in him and his body. You rifle a hand through his hair. He moves his briefs and his long length emerges. He sits back down on the bed and sets you down on his lap. His long length hits your bell as he does.

“Well princess, we probably don’t have much time before Chopper comes back. How about we make this quick and revisit the rest later? He asks, starting to use 2 of his large fingers to circle your clit. He brings his lips back to smash against yours. His other hand moves his bulging length to start rubbing against your entrance.

“Zoro. Need you.” You say pulling your lips away from him to catch your breath.

He begins taking small nibbles down your neck to your breasts. You moan in his ear. He pulls off your breast and looks at you with a soft smile.

“As you wish, Princess.” He says slamming into you with no warning.

You jump and moan. It was startling and a bit painful, but he felt so good. He then starts slowly bouncing you on his cock, continuing to use one hand to circle your clit. As you smash your lips back into him. One of your hands feeling up his chest, the other thumbing the nape of his neck.

You begin to bounce on his cock as he starts to moan into your neck. Tits bouncing to tap his chin.

“Zoro.” You moan.

You push him back flat against the bed alternating between moving your hips in circles with his length inside you and bouncing up and down as you use his chest to support you. His cocky smirk returns as he watches you working to please yourself on his length. You lean over him and put your arms beside his. He wraps his arms around your hips and begins moving you at a pace of his choice. Your eyes begin to close as you start to feel the ecstasy building in your belly.

“Zoro.” You moan again.

“Not yet, princess.”

He pushes you back flat against the bed with ease, never leaving you as he does. He places one hand above your head and one on your breast. He kisses you and begins pounding you harder and faster. Your eyes start to cross. His length bottoms out in you. He was slamming you into this bed and not being quiet about it either. His hands moved to your hips to allow him more to grab. He moves his thumb down to place pressure on your clit rubbing with it while he pulls your hips closer into him. You can’t see straight.

“Zo…”

“Almost.” He says partially lifting your body off the bed.

You squirt all over his cock and feel it rush down your thighs. He finishes a few last thrusts through your ecstasy. Then, you feel his member quiver inside you and once again feel yourself dripping. He lies down on top of you for a moment before rolling over and pulling you across his chest.

“Y/N. you good?”

You swallow hard and move your hair out of your face. Still not sure if you can speak.

“Yeah.” You say with a silent laugh as you try to catch your breath.

“I think doing that again will help my recovery. Doctors orders.” He says with a smirk as you lay on his chest.

He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and looks down at you. You look at him, but close your eyes and nestle your head further into his chest in exhaustion.

“BID and PRN for the foreseeable future.” You reply.

Suddenly you hear the door start to open and a voice yell.

“Y/N, Zoro you okay down there? We heard a loud crash and were worried! Zoro wasn’t letting you dress his wounds again, was he?” Chopper yells from the top of the steps.

In all your fun you hadn’t noticed the rolling tables of your medical supplies had toppled over. Fortunately, Chopper hadn’t walked down the steps far enough to see the state you and Zoro were in. Zoro, naked flat on his back on the patient bed. You straddling his leg, laying naked on top of him. Both of your legs, soaked with juices from your activities. Your clothes all over the floor and medical supplies on the ground beside you. You quickly sat up, placing your hands on Zoro’s chest. You swallow hard. Zoro places his hands on your hips trying not to laugh. He takes in the view of your bare breasts once again.

“Everything’s fine. Y/N just needs to work on her bedside manner.” Zoro yells with a laugh.

You look down at the swordsman with wide eyes. He reaches back and squeezes your ass. You try not to moan as your sensitive spot rubs against his leg.

“Thanks Doctor Chopper. Patient is almost done down here. Ready the next one!”

Chopper turns around and shuts the door.

You quickly hop off Zoro and off the patient bed. You pull your dress down and zip up the top. Zoro sits up and moves to the side of the bed. He grabs your waist, reaching past you to the counter for a towel. He begins cleaning between your legs. You take a deep breath as he does. He then lets go and begins cleaning himself. You pull your hair out of your dress and brush through it with your fingers. You turn around to look at him as he pulls back on his briefs. You put your arms on Zoro’s chest.

“My bedside manner?”

“ Yeah. it got better but still needs some work.” He says, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in for a kiss.

“I still have to stitch those up, you know?” You say pointing at his wounds.

“Not this again.” Zoro groans.

Luffy

Luffy skipped his way down the stairs, barely noticing you as he jumped on the patient bed. You are working at the counter back turned to him as you prepare supplies for patching his wounds.

“Hey Y/N. How’s it going down here? Chopper says it’s my turn. Got any snacks while I wait?”

“Hey Luffy, sorry no food here. Let me just finish prepping my wound cleaning supplies.” You reply over your shoulder.

“But Y/N. I’m hungry and that’s going to help me to heal more than cleaning my wounds anyway!”

You turn around setting the bowl on the rolling table next to Luffy. Then reach for a stool and roll it in front of him. He looks at you with a disappointed expression as you smile at him. He then looks you up and down.

“Y/N what are you wearing? Cool costume! Do I get one?”

“Sorry Luffy, you actually have to take your shirt off. I need to look at your wounds, especially that shoulder.”

“Then do I get a snack?”

“Sorry Luffy, we will have to wait on Sanji for that. You’ll also have to let me get this done first.”

“Fine.” He sighs and takes off his shirt. “You better get Sanji to make me something really good though.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“Alright Luffy first just have to clean these, so we can get a good look.” You say as you place the warm damp cloth against his shoulder. Your other arm resting on his crossed ones.

“OW OW OW!” he yells, moving your hands away to reach for his shoulder.

“Sorry, Luffy!” You say gently resting your hands on your lap in front of you. You look at him and shake your head.

“That hurt more than when I got it!”

“Luffy, we have to get these clean or they could get infected!” You say as your reach for his hand that is clenching his wound, you bring it to his lap. “I’m not trying to hurt you! You add as you give his hand a squeeze.

You resoak your cloth in the basin beside you. You then place a hand on his arm near his wound.

“Are you ready? Can I go again?” You ask as you get ready to clean the wound with your cloth.

“Yes.” he says, gripping his knees with both hands.

You gently dab the front edge of his shoulder wound with the warmed cloth.

“Damn it Y/N! That stings.” He says squirming.

“Luffy you and Zoro are the only people I know who can take it in a fight, but when it comes to getting your wounds dressed and cleaned you act like babies. This is your last chance! Stay still!”

“Fine.”

You soak the cloth a third time and before you can even get the cloth to Luffy’s arm he moves.

“Luffy! That’s it!”

You hop on the table and straddle your captain.

“If you can’t stay still I will have to make you.”

“What are you doing Y/N?”

You drop the cloth in the water and grab his arms by the wrists slowly bringing them around your waist.

“Wrap your arms around me and squeeze when it stings, okay? I can take it.” You smile at him.

You start to clean his shoulder wound and the squeezing trick seems to help. There however were a few things you didn’t account for. The first being Luffy screaming in your ear. The second being how much you liked having your captain’s arms wrapped around you. He was warm and tender with his touch, yes he was using them to cover pain, but there was something soft about them.

You finished cleaning his shoulder wound. Regretting starting with his worst wound as you liked being held by him.

“Alright, Luffy. These next ones shouldn’t be as bad. I’m going to move on to your chest and your finger pistol wounds.”

Luffy lightly keeps his arms wrapped around you looking down at his chest watching you work. You soak your cloth and begin cleaning, rinsing and soaking your cloth repeatedly as you go, not noticing the rocking motion you were doing on Luffy’s lap as you went.

You finished wiping up the last bit of dried blood and turn to drop your cloth in the bowl next to you.

“All done with that part!”

“Oh do you want me to let go of you now?” Luffy questions with a slight hint of sadness in his voice.

“You can if you wan’t, but you don't have to. I still have to do your stitches, so I figure I’ll stay here to help you stay still. That typically is a bit worse than the cleaning, so squeeze if you need.” You say with a nod. You begin looking over his shoulders for your needle and thread. You move your arms to rest on top of his. Moving him as you look. You also begin to stroke up and down his arms as you look around him for your supplies.

“Okay.” Luffy says with a giggle as he watches you look around.

“Now where did I put that needle and thread?” You ask yourself as you move your arms to his chest.

“Uh. Y/N. I think you left them on the table behind me.”

“Thank you! You push him down by the chest, so he is laying flat on the bed. You lean over him to reach for your supplies. It takes a moment as the thread spool is just out of reach. You don’t notice your half exposed breasts dancing in Luffy’s face as you do this. Finally you grab the spool and sit back on his lap.

Only this time something is different. You are slightly raised.

Luffy sits on his elbows and looks at you.

“Huh. What’s going on?” He questions.

It dawns on you that you were just rocking on his lap and had accidentally stuck your breasts in his face. You blush and grab Luffy’s arms to gently slide off his lap. You embarrassingly turn away from Luffy and wrap your arms around your chest.

“Y/N wait.” He reaches an arm around your waist.

“I’m sorry Luffy, it was my fault. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.” You reply as you squeeze yourself harder, stepping out of his reach.

“Uncomfortable? Y/N? I liked you on top of me. That’s why… I think it happened.” He says putting his arm behind his head and smirking looking at you.

You look over your shoulder at him.

“But Luffy, I…”

“I heard Sanji and Usop talk about it once. I was just slow because I've never been in that situation.” Luffy adds as he rubs the back of his head with a grin.

“Oh. Well I.” You turn to face him, still hugging yourself. You were wishing your arms were his, but you knew your captain really didn’t seem interested in girls or anything other than meat and being king of the pirates. You didn’t have a lot of experience in this area anyway, and assumed he didn’t either. You always thought of your captain differently from the rest of the crew. You liked being with him more than the others. You liked the feel of his touch. You thought if he did ever show an interest in a girl, you hoped it would be you.

“Did you not like it?”

“No. Luffy. I…”

He stretched his arms and wrapped them around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You place your arms on his. He’s looking at you smiling, but you can’t look him in the eye.

“Y/N. Can I kiss you?”

You look up at him shocked. You just nod.

He pulls you closer into his chest. He puts a hand under your chin pulling your lips right in front of yours. You close your eyes waiting for him to kiss you, but he stops himself.

“Wait, are you saying yes because I’m your captain or because you want to? I only want to if you want to?” He asks with a confused expression on his face letting one arm go behind his head and the other rest on your lower back.

You look at him and wrap your arms around his neck letting your lips tell him your answer. He pulls you in close.

“Y/N. I think that’s just what my wounds needed to heal!”

You chuckle resting your forehead against his.

“Let's go eat, then maybe do more of this later?”

“Fine, but I have to stitch you up first!”

“Ah Y/N! Can’t we be done?!”

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