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zhongrin · 26 days

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honey, can you.… commit a crime for me?

✼ characters ┈ zhongli, childe, kaeya, diluc, al haitham, tighnari, wriothesley, neuvillette

✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, crack, fluff

✼ a/n ┈ what even are these hsdlkfjlskjdf kinda wanna create a yandere version of this /is bonked

ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

zhongli immediately tries to find the core of the problem. “what is it that troubles you, dearest? perhaps we can find a more peaceful solution? violence is not always the answer. this, i know from all the 6000 years i’ve lived—” aaaand there he goes on his lecture. if your goal was to get him to give you a preaching of a lifetime, well, congratulations, you’ve done it. sit back and relax, brew some tea, maybe get some snacks, because you’ll be here for a while.

al haitham, surprisingly, actually humors you. only because he knows you were teasing him and this is his way of teasing you back, but you’ll probably end up staring at him in confusion because he looks dead serious while doing so. “what an interesting offer. i’ll have to ask you to submit a formal proposal through your special submission channel. make sure you have several backup plans in case of emergencies. have it on my desk by tomorrow afternoon, the latest.”

wriothesley straight up denies you with a roll of his eyes. he knows you’re joking, and honestly speaking he would stain his hands with blood for you, but as much as he loves you, he really didn’t want you to end up at the fortress while under a sentence. although theoretically he could pull some strings to make sure you spent your sentence peacefully if that scenario ever happened, the fact was that such records will follow you for the rest of your life, and he wants you to stay in the sunlight. “what did i always tell you? don’t break the law... but if you really want to, how about you try to steal my breath away with a kiss?”

neuvillette stops writing his reports immediately, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “my dear, come sit, let us converse.” he holds your hand and proceeds to rope you into a heart-to-heart talk. are you being harassed by someone? are you being threatened? the cup of water rippled erratically as he waited for you to answer those particular questions. is there something he could do to help that wouldn’t make either of you getting dragged into a court trial? can he— …. yeah, someone save him, he totally thinks that you’re serious.

childe agrees immediately. is that even a question? “sure! who do you need me to kill?” he asks, with his signature wide boyish grin plastered onto his face and his hand twitching to reach for his hydro blade. look. it’s your ajax. your (man)childe. your tartaglia. i bet you liked his murderous tendencies anyway. are you even surprised?

kaeya makes it a point to gasp and looking like a maiden who caught the sight of two lovers rendezvousing in the garden. when he notices you not buying his act, however, he laughs and switches gear into a teasing smile, “oh? was me stealing your heart not enough?”

diluc stares at you blankly, one eyebrow raised, his voice monotonous — if you hadn’t known how to read his minuscule reactions, you would have missed the spark of mirth dancing in his eyes; a trace of the young ‘luc buried deep inside the scarred heart of a charred phoenix, “…. hmph. did kaeya put you up to this?”

tighnari hums nonchalantly and gives you a knowing smirk, his tail swishing mischievously behind him, “perfect. i do have a rare specimen i’d like to plant. i’m sure it’ll benefit well from the nutrients it’ll absorb from your victim. so, where did you put the body?”

✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈

@abyssmal-skies ! @hamdehlesmis ! @sunnshineflxwer ! @queen-belial ! @silentmoths

@dustofthedailylife ! @marina-and-the-memes ! @mixed-kester ! @lordbugs ! @anonymousficreader

@irethepotato ! @sassy-cat-in-town ! @syrenkitsune ! @smokipoki ! @cakeboxie

@crystalflygeo ! @ciexuvia ! @illaasya ! @celestewritestoomuch ! @pams-comfortzone

@spidermanluvr444 ! @ourstrawberryclouds ! @ryuryuryuyurboat ! @hrts4hanniehae ! @fiannee

@frosts-intuition ! @florapocalypses ! @genshin-impacts-me ! @scarasmood ! @hellcatinnc

@beloved-brynn ! @malachitemischief101 ! @average-yandere-enjoyer

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harmonictechnicality · 1 year

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my heart is my armor for @thefreakandthehair's Spicy Six Spring Challenge (mwah mwah!) | *ao3 link here*

Eddie doesn’t understand Steve’s sudden interest in having a garage sale. Everything that they own is junk disguised as furniture. None of it is worth looking at, let alone buying.

Besides, they don’t even have a garage. They’re still slumming it in this dingy duplex, too broke to afford decent cutlery.

“A garage sale with no garage is just false advertisement, babe.” Eddie flops onto his stomach, hears the boxsprings of their shitty mattress groan underneath him.

“We need to do some spring cleaning anyways.” Steve sinks his nails into Eddie’s hair, scratches at his roots the way Eddie likes it best. It’s all mindless now, physical affection. Five months ago, both of them would’ve been scared shitless to behave this way. Now, it’s easy.

Routine bliss.

“Might as well make a few extra dollars out of it.” Steve adds.

Eddie scoffs. Flattens his face into the mattress, ignores the questionable dude smell. “What the fuck is spring cleaning anyways?”

“Just a thing. Always has been.”

“Hmph.”

Spring cleaning sounds like a tradition that rich assholes invented as an excuse to throw away the winter jackets they never even wore - never even took the tags off of. Eddie can just imagine a gaggle of housewives, swishing their wine and speaking in some fake transatlantic accent: ‘Oh sweet darling lambchop, it’s not wasteful. It’s simply a bit of spring cleaning.’

“I never agreed to do spring cleaning.” Eddie says.

“You never agree to do cleaning, period.”

“That’s not true. I did the laundry last month.”

Which isn’t a lie. Eddie did three (two) loads of laundry after Steve refused to go anywhere near it. Claims that the final straw was seeing some sort of mutated rodent emerging from their hamper.

“Oh that?” Eddie had fished his brain for a plausible explanation. “That was just a mouse or a rat or a… miniature possum. Something like that.” At the time, he phrased the whole thing like the weirdest multiple choice quiz - the most suitable answer being Something Like That.

“Whatever.” Steve snorts, likely recalling that same night. He turns off the lamp, lets the dark bleed into the room, swallowing the light.

They both inch into the middle of the bed, where it’s naturally starting to dip at the center. All of their belongings are used, including this mattress. If money weren’t an issue, they would invest in a new one.

Or not. Eddie kind of likes that it sags in the middle, where they always meet. Like it’s giving in, shaping itself around the weight of their relationship.

The thought makes him smile, a stupidly smitten grin at his stupidly pretty boyfriend.

“What?” Steve pokes a finger at the corner of Eddie’s mouth.

“Nothing.” He catches Steve’s finger, pretends to gnaw it off his hand till Steve laughs. Best fucking sound, even better in their bed.

Christ, he’s so in love. Wants a megaphone to scream about how in love he is with Steve Harrington. Wants to call a local radio station and request the sappiest love songs imaginable. Wants to be able to just say it, then never stop saying it.

That feels colossal though. Like the playfulness will fizzle out or the blissful routine will rupture.

So he just says it in other ways, like tonight.

“Okay, fine. You win.” Which is a direct translation to those three important words, because Eddie hates losing. One of his top ten least favorite things in this world is losing.

He folds Steve’s fingers into a fist, kisses over every knuckle. Looks up to see Steve blinking slowly, half-asleep. Looks happy.

And damn, that makes it all worth it, right? Losing so Steve can win. That makes it tolerable, almost enjoyable, for a soft expression like that.

“I’ll do the non-garage garage sale.”

Steve yawns, nuzzles into his side of the pillow. “I knew you would.”

Eddie complains the entire time they clean. Makes the biggest fuss, stomps from room to room. Their place is small, sure. Yet somehow, they generate enough dust and dirt to fill multiple trash bags. Which means multiple trips to the dumpster.

Fuck Spring for making cleanliness a seasonal personality trait.

It’s late into the afternoon when they finally take a break. Both of them are pretty disgusting, so they sit on the front steps of the duplex.

“Quit scowling, you big baby.” Steve passes a glass of water to Eddie. Takes a long chug from his own glass, throwing his head back to get more down.

No human being has the right to look this sexy without proper legal representation. But Steve wears dirt and sweat like an accessory. Makes the grime so damn rugged, utterly hot.

Yeah. Eddie finally can relate to all the women that drool over erotica novel covers. Fully gets the appeal.

“So, find anything worth selling?” Steve asks.

“As a matter of fact, yeah. I did.”

Eddie reaches to his side and grabs a black binder: Steve’s baseball card collection. An extensive one at that.

He smooths over the plastic cover, fluttering his lashes up at Steve, who seems to be seconds away from hulking out over the suggestion.

“Oh fuck that, man!” Steve yanks the binder from Eddie’s hand. “I’ve had those since I was a kid!”

“Which is exactly why it’s time to retire them. Give them a new home. One that’s not a brothel for cockroaches.”

Really, Eddie gets far too much pleasure out of this. Watching people squirm under the uncomfortable magnifying glass of his sense of humor.

Steve cracks his neck to one side and snarls.

Ha. Perfect. Eddie has dwindled him down to nonverbal replies. Just caveman actions that are equally as sexy as the dirt and sweat.

But Steve throws a curveball, too quick to catch. He slips into the house and returns with one of Eddie’s favorite cups. “And what about these, huh? What about your dorky Star Wars glasses?”

Okay, ouch. This game is not funny anymore. Totally bypassed Humor and went straight to Dire territory.

Han may have shot first, but Steve Harrington is aiming where it hurts. Cutting him deep (deeper than that very unlucky tauntaun…).

“These are collectibles, Steven. Collectibles!” Eddie exaggerates every syllable, first-grade teacher style. “I spent two years tracking down the complete Empire Strikes Back set. Still missing three from Return of the Jedi, but whatever. Progress is progress.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is, these are valuable.”

“Like, worth a lot of money?”

“No. You know what I mean…” Eddie stands. He carefully grabs the glass from Steve and holds it up to the sun.

All the designs are just as vibrant as the day he found them. Him and Wayne had searched almost a dozen Burger Kings before he found this design - the scene on Endor. Eddie will never forget that day.

“The memories.” He finally answers. “These are sentimental and shit.”

Steve hums, nodding. “They mean something to you.”

“Precisely.”

“Noted.” He takes the cup back inside. There’s silence for another minute before Steve lurks around the door, saying:

“Then I guess we’ll have to sell one of your guitars instead.”

Oh shit.

Another direct hit to Eddie’s blackened heart.

“You little fucker!” He chases Steve all around the kitchen and into their bedroom. Wrestles him down on their saggy bed, instantly dirtying up again.

They end up with a decent amount of items to sell that Saturday morning. Duplicate records and cassettes, a few kitchen gadgets from Steve’s grandma, and some trinkets that Robin kindly donated. A hodgepodge of treasures, that’s what Steve keeps saying.

He’s so proud of their three tables of junk. Hodgepodge treasures, whatever. Just keeps rearranging things and straightening them out. Concentrating so hard that his eyebrows crease together. Adorably focused. Eddie loves when he gets like this. If they weren’t in a conservative small town in broad daylight, he’d kiss Steve’s twisted-up lips, make him relax a little.

“I…” Eddie starts, quickly tripping on his own tongue. Stumbles over that dumb fucking word. Four letters should not hold the power of an entire emotion, goddamnit.

He scoots out of his lawn chair, stretching upward. “I think I’ll go pester the lemonade stand across the street. Haggle the price down to a penny or something.”

Steve huffs out a laugh. “You get more bizarre every day, Munson.”

“So does the economy, Harrington.”

The lemonade stand is an immediate mistake. A little girl peers up at Eddie, eyes starting to swell with tears. Maybe the clouds are casting a big, scary shadow over him, making him look twice as evil.

Or maybe he severely underestimated how badass his look really is, who fucking knows.

He dives right into his haggling-monologue, when the girl points to his latest Iron Maiden patch on his vest. Asks in the thinnest voice who the ‘skeleton man’ is.

And look, Eddie doesn’t mess around when it comes to educating this fine nation’s youth. So he answers honestly:

“Eddie the Head. A vessel for soul-sucking metal.”

The answer is probably what makes her run. But it’s definitely the voice that opens up the floodgates.

Anyways, he’s not just gonna let all this freshly-squeezed goodness go to waste. That would be a shame. A travesty, even.

So he helps himself to two full cups of lemonade. Makes a quick escape before the kid’s parents bring pitchforks.

Eddie sneaks up behind Steve, whispers nervously in his ear. “Well… there’s good news and there’s bad news.”

“What did you do?” Steve doesn’t miss a beat.

“I got the lemonade for free.” He hops up on the table, waves the proof around with a big, cheesy grin. Still no reaction from Steve, so what the hell? Might as well get all the information out there.

“Bad news is, I made the pigtailed kid cry.”

“Dude!”

“It’s not my fault!” Eddie is suddenly very defensive. “She asked who this ‘skeleton man’ on my vest is and I couldn’t lie.”

“You lie about shit all the time.”

“Not about history, Steve! Get your head out of your perfectly-shaped ass.”

Steve puts his hand over Eddie’s mouth, gesturing to the nearby shoppers. Not that Eddie is overly concerned about what the elderly couple can hear from this distance. And he assumes that the suspender-wearing dude admiring the Barry Manilo record, would probably agree on his Ass Opinions.

However, Steve is shrinking further into his chair from Eddie’s commentary. Grunting something unintelligible but mostly likely explicit.

“Here.” Eddie determines that the safest solution is to back down. Ease off until Steve’s complexion returns to normal colors. “You can have the lemonade that isn’t diluted with the tears of a child.”

Steve laughs into the cup and takes a long swig. Chases it with an exaggerated ‘aaah’ like all of those airbrushed models do in the commercials.

Eddie is just so damn crazy about this guy. Would drink a thousand tear-soaked beverages for Steve if it meant getting to experience every day just like this. With a smile like that.

“How is it?” Steve asks.

“Tastes like citrus and fear.” Eddie responds proudly with a wink.

There’s a pause before they both erupt into laughter. Steve slapping Eddie’s knee rather than his own. Eddie snorting like a sitcom dweeb. He’s laughing so hard that he almost misses Steve uttering the most incredible sentence:

“God, I love you.”

Says it just like that. Clear as water. Easier than oxygen. Like he has told Eddie that very phrase a thousand times before.

And Eddie… Eddie can’t locate a single word in his brain. His access to language is padlocked after hearing that. Experiencing that.

All he can do is move. Move away from the table. Move behind the clothing rack full of used jackets. Move his arms outward, pulling Steve along with him.

He kisses Steve before he does something stupid like scream or flail around. If he’s going to open his big mouth, it’s going to be against Steve’s lips. Licking the drops of lemon clean off his mouth. Pushing his linen-soft hair back and holding it between his fingers.

They’re obscured by clothes and scarves, but it’s risky. Too risky to linger into a deeper kiss like Eddie craves to do. So he lets go of this moment and ducks into the house to catch his breath.

The rest of the day goes by at hyper speed, too fast to notice details. Not that anything could possibly top hearing Steve say what he said. It’s tattooed deep into everything Eddie hears, permanently inked in his mind.

Once they head back inside, Steve flicks through the wad of cash, counting their profit. It’s not much, merely pocket change - but certainly more than either of them expected. Eddie chalks up the surprising amount to Steve's charm and short-shorts. The yummiest eye-candy of the whole damn neighborhood.

“We should save up for a trip.” Steve suggests.

Eddie raises his brows. “A trip?”

“A vacation. You know, get away from this shithole town for a weekend.” The more he talks, the more Steve’s face glows. Fucking shines with daydreams. “A change of scenery might be nice.”

Eddie holds back the urge to remind Steve that he’s the best scenery in the solar system. He already gushes too much, too often. It’s bound to scare Steve off at some point.

So he simply kisses Steve’s shoulder instead, agreeing with a soft hum.

He starts to fall asleep while listening to Steve name all the places they should travel to. The last one he remembers is Boston.

“Boston would be fucking awesome, right?”

Eddie nods. Drifts off.

Thinks that anywhere with Steve Harrington would be fucking awesome.

Eddie heads up north for a couple of weeks to help Wayne move into his new place. Since Hawkins was previously sliced apart like pizza, Wayne wisely decided to retire early. Used his government hush-money in the most predictable way he could.

“All I need, son, is an empty mind and lake full of fish.” And that’s exactly what he gets. A one-story house near the top of Lake Michigan. Has one hell of a view too.

They head out to the private dock to chat and fish. Except Eddie isn’t too keen on jabbing sharp metal into a water-dweller’s mouth, so he keeps Wayne company on the dock. Lends an ear for all of his stories.

“Shame that Steve couldn’t make it.” Wayne waits to bring him up till they start packing up for the evening.

“Yeah. It is.” Eddie agrees. Misses him already. “Next time though.”

During his last weekend with Wayne, a package arrives on the front porch. It’s addressed to Eddie, which is strange. The only people that know he’s here are his boyfriend, his bandmates, and his boss. More than likely, Steve probably told their crew of demon-destroyers too, but still…

Why would anyone bother to send him a package if he’s driving back home in three days? Doesn’t add up.

He cuts into the cardboard, practically ruins the box. Inside, there’s an absurd amount of tissue paper. It’s stuffed in every corner, overflowing at the top, just a sea of noisy paper.

“Whatcha got there?” Wayne peers over his shoulder.

“Not sure yet.” Eddie sifts through the noise. Digging around more carefully now because he takes notice of the ‘Fragile’ labels on every side of the box.

He pulls out one of the overly-wrapped items, begins removing it from the tissue paper. After twirling through a few layers, he realizes exactly what it is.

Glass. Colorful designs. Fits in the palm of his hand.

The Star Wars cups. The last three Star Wars cups that had been missing from Eddie’s collection.

“No fucking way.”

“Watch it.” Wayne warns.

“It’s a warranted response, I promise.” Eddie hands the pristine Darth Vader glass over to Wayne. “Look!”

Wayne examines it for a while before letting out a long whistle. “Well I’ll be damned. Haven’t you been looking for these since-”

“1983.” Eddie answers. He gently picks up each glass, thumbs over the artwork to feel the tiny ridges of paint.

They’re in perfect condition too, more than perfect. No chips, no blemishes, no smudgy fingerprints (except for Eddie’s now). He has to place them back into the box because his hands are shaking with excitement. Smooths his palms against his jeans, head shaking in disbelief.

“That romantic asshole.” Eddie grumbles. “Couldn’t just wait to give me these once I get back home.”

Wayne cuts him a vicious side-eye, one that makes Eddie’s spine shiver. He's received this look many times throughout his childhood, even more in his teenage years. It’s Wayne’s signature stare before he calls Eddie out on his bullshit.

Apparently, it still has the same effect on him too. Works like witchcraft.

Wayne looks over the gifts, then back up at Eddie. His edge melts away, turns into something softer. Kinder.

“You know… some things can’t wait, son.”

With that, the tension in Eddie’s spine unravels. His chest inflates, warming up a few extra degrees. His whole body knows exactly what he needs to do - the thing that can’t wait another second.

The phone only rings through one time.

“This is Steve.” That voice. Hits like a homemade remedy.

“Hey, it’s Eddie.” His nails are tapping next to the phone speaker, rapid and impatient. “Listen, I just got your package and-”

“Oh, god.” Steve sounds pained all of a sudden. “Was it too much? Is it gonna be too difficult to transport back home? I know it would’ve just been easier to wait, except-”

“I love you.”

There it is. The words that can’t wait. The phrase that demands power.

“You… what?”

“I love you. Just, so much.” Eddie feels lighter, weight lifting from his lungs each time he says it. “And I couldn’t wait another second to tell you. So, yeah. Really, really in love with you, Steve.”

All Eddie can hear is Steve’s breath. Just as rapid as his nails tapping.

“Wow… um.” Steve clears his throat, but the sound comes out small. Strained. “Do you mind if I call you right back?”

Not the response Eddie was expecting. “Oh. Uh.”

“Just - hold on a sec.”

And the line clicks dead.

After the third hour of organizing pans in the kitchen, the only room close enough to launch himself at the phone if it were to ring, Eddie accepts defeat. Retreats to the guest bedroom, contemplating what the fuck went wrong.

He groans into the bedspread, claws at his hair till it’s a fucking jungle. Frizzed out beyond repair, just like his nerves.

“That’s enough moping.” Wayne knocks at the door, creaking it open. “We’re going down to the lake.”

There’s no point in arguing with him. The man is the human embodiment of Stubborn - more so than Eddie, which speaks volumes.

Besides, moping in a different location won’t make him any less pathetic.

Wayne is a master in the art of distraction. Doesn’t waste any time before telling Eddie all about the local gossip he overhears downtown. He quickly transitions into asking Eddie questions about his job. Continues this pattern till the sun falls into the horizon. Not allowing Eddie’s mind the chance to jump to conclusions until they get back to the house. To the phone.

The phone that’s still not ringing.

Wayne nudges Eddie’s arm. “Wanna give him a call?”

Yes. Desperately yes.

“Maybe. Gonna go change first.”

Eddie opens the door to the guest bedroom, and his lungs slingshot out of his chest.

Steve is there. Sitting on the bed. Looking at him with that knockout smile and slightly tired eyes.

“Hi.” He sits up a little straighter. Gives Eddie the tiniest wave.

“You’re… you-”

“Caught the first flight out here.” Steve cuts him off. “Had to.”

“How?”

“The vacation cash jar.”

No no no.

Eddie’s throat feels swollen with that realization. Knows just how fucking much that potential trip to Boston meant to Steve.

“But-”

“Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not, I’m not.” Eddie spits out. Needs to swallow this barrier of emotion in his throat so he can form an actual sentence, for christ’s sake. “Fuck. You just… have no idea how much I love you.”

Steve perks up even straighter, seems fully awake now. His smile creeps up to one side of his face, outright mischievous. He tilts his head to the side and holds an arm out, reaching for Eddie.

“Get over here and show me then.”

In one fluid motion, Eddie lands on the bed, draped in Steve’s arms. They kiss and cling to each other as if they might float off somewhere. It’s all too good, too delicious. Just can’t get enough of how Steve tastes, needs to savor it after not having him around for ten days.

Being under the covers, kissing wildly, is becoming dangerous. And if Wayne weren’t in the room directly across from them, Eddie would have Steve in unspeakable positions by now. Steve tugs multiple times at the zipper on Eddie’s jeans. Causes physical damage to Eddie’s horny soul to pull Steve's hand away.

They stay like this instead. Leisure, molasses kisses. Knotted fingers and tangled legs. Closer than skin.

Steve lifts up onto his elbow, swipes Eddie’s bangs off of his forehead to make room for another place to kiss. “Can’t believe it took a few dorky cups to make you realize you were in love with me,” he says, lips still smushed in that spot before backing away.

Eddie flips onto his back with a heavy sigh. No way he can look at Steve’s face while admitting this outloud. “I’ve loved you since the day you fed me a curly fry that you had twisted around your pinky.”

“That was the moment?”

“That was the moment.”

He can hear the smile in Steve’s voice. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Never gonna dodge that ‘freak’ reputation, am I?”

“Not a chance.”

The sky is dusted with stars that night. Not the kind of night sky they ever get to see in Hawkins. Steve marvels at them, mentions that he’s never seen so many at once, not even through a window.

“We could go outside?” Eddie offers. “See even more, if you want.”

“Fuck that.” Steve burrows his nose into Eddie’s neck. “Too comfy.”

Eddie agrees with a laugh. “It’s a good bed, isn’t it?”

“Ours is better.”

It’s not, it’s really not. Their bed is rotting, the oldest relic of their home.

But it bends with them, forms to their bodies perfectly.

And since this bed has yet to learn their language, Eddie takes the lead.

“You’re right.” He curls himself around Steve. Leans in closer and Steve follows. “Ours is definitely better.”

Even miles away from home, they somehow always manage to meet in the middle.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #lexsspringfanworkschallenge #I hope y'all like this one :)#it's still snarky but also cozy #and I definitely went overboard on the Star Wars jokes at one point #but yeah please enjoy this spring fic 💕

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shirohige-pirates · 5 months

Text

Birds of a Feather

CisFem Reader x Marco

CW: Violence, blood, language, adult themes and scenes. 18+ only

Summary: Life has not been kind to you. After a string of bad relationships, you're a little jaded and a little depressed in all honestly. The worst day of your life seems to be the turning point, but the roller coaster ride that follows could either throw you soaring free, or have you caged forever?

Tag List: @clumsyraccoon

Chapter 30: Brotherly Rage

Teach hangs up the phone and adjusts you so he’s carrying you almost kindly. He begins to walk up the stairs and you’re not sure what to say.

Saying what you want seems a poor choice.

Saying nothing is making you sick with nerves and you can’t ignore the pain that way.

“How much?” You ask quietly as he sets you on a counter in the bathroom.

“How much what, trinket?”

You bit back the urge to snap at him. “How much money are you trying to get?”

“One point five billion berry.” He answers flatly, turning on the shower.

“Why?”

“None of your business, trinket.”

“I’m not a-.”

“Yer Marco’s most precious little bauble.” He interrupts curtly. “His greatest gods-lovin’ treasure, if you ask me. I haven’t seen him give two shits about someone for years after he an’ that red-headed cunt went their separate ways." His voice is neutral, business and nothing else. Talking more to keep you from asking him annoying questions, you were sure.

“Sure he loves that clinic, probably cares about the employees enough, I could’ve done somethin’ with anyone ah them.” He admits, moving his hand away from the water stream. “You got two choices trinket. Strip and clean yourself up, or get uselessly shy and I’ll strip you and clean you myself. Can’t patch yer wounds until we clean that plaster an’ such away.”

You slip off the counter, moving toward the tub as you slowly start to pull off your clothes. “I can clean myself without help or supervision.” You insist, wincing again the pain of cuts and bruises you didn’t want to think about right now.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight, trinket. Devil fruit users are slicker’n snot and I don’t know what yours does.”

“Humph. Nothing.” You grumble the words, making sure your practiced disdain seeps out naturally.

The sound of Teach’s strike was the only warning you had, and you turned your head enough to make what would’ve been a brain rattling strike into something that only split your lip and bruised the side of your face. Even with your reaction it still nearly took you off your feet.

“Don’t lie to me again, trinket.” He warns, stepping back in the small bathroom and giving you some illusion of space.

There was no curtain around the tub and shower. You left your under clothes on and Teach didn’t tell you to take them off. You washed blood, shards of wood and plaster off as best as you could, pulling a few large splinters free on your own.

“Hmph, I expected to see your wounds just close up.” He grumbles. “Dry off, and sit back on the counter, I’ll do the rest.”

“I’m… not going to die from this.” You say the words carefully, glancing at him as you shuffle your way to the counter.

“Probably not.” He agrees, but doesn’t say anything else.

You finish drying off and hop up onto the counter, seated so he can reach your back fairly easily. Teach pulls out a few pieces of debris you hadn’t been able to reach, pouring on disinfectant and pulling a hissed swear from you before he put bandages on what needed it.

“Grab yer clothes and sit by the fire until your underpants dry and then get dressed.”

You nod, grabbing up your clothes and heading out of the room. You’re patched up, but everything still hurts. The bruises are going to ache for days at least, and it burns like glass and fire just to breathe. Despite your hobbling nature, Teach isn’t ever more than a pace or two away from you. You wish you were fit enough to be irritated by it, but trying to run now would earn you little more than another beating.

The only thing that irritated you at this exact moment was that you could get away. But that would mean using your devil fruit in front of someone, and you hadn’t even used your devil fruit privately for almost a decade at this point.

You had been painfully careful about using it when you first arrived on this island. After a while there were idle comments from Ivankov that made you decide to just stop using it altogether. How much you seemed to know, how well-read you were, how she didn’t remember giving you books on certain topics.

Nothing accusatory, nothing cruel. Idle musings from someone who was beaming with pride, but his words made you anxious. If Ivan had noticed, then others might eventually, and if others noticed, then your secret would be out, and the island would be in danger.

If you thought Teach was going to kill you, you’d use it.

If you thought he was going to kill anyone, you’d use it.

You pulled on your clothes once the fire had dried you enough that you wouldn’t have to worry about cold soggy bottoms. To Teach’s credit, he didn’t once make any comments about your appearance, and you never felt or saw him leering at you.

He was a bastard, but apparently he wasn’t that kind of bastard.

Still, if he had even an inkling of what your powers were, you were certain that he’d no longer give a shit about a few billion berries. The prize for just having information on you or the fruit was substantial. If they didn’t kill him outright for knowing who you were, the prize for turning you in was probably enough to turn Heun prosperous for a century or two.

That kind of money made fools of saints, and a saint Teach was not.

“Now we sit here and wait?” You question, staying seated near the hearth, careful not to let your clothes catch the flames.

“Yup.” Teach replies, comfy in the big recliner chair near where he’d first pretended to plug in your phone.

“… Any chance I could actually charge my phone now?”

Teach ponders it for a moment, grabbing the charger and your phone and tossing them over to you. Looking around you realize there’s an outlet not too far away from you and so you plug everything in and focus on it until it has enough juice you can power it up.

You glance up at Teach as it boots up, but he’s just looking back at you. He’s not getting ready to knock it out of your hand, or say anything, so you continue using it.

There’s a few missed calls, and some missed texts, almost all of them within the last few minutes.

Marco: Did you get lost?

Marco: Pretty bird?

Marco: We found your car, I hope you’re okay.

Marco: It’s going to be okay, my love, I promise.

The few minutes between the second to last and last message really put into perspective how little time had passed. The short window that Teach had created. The efficiency with which he had used those precious few minutes.

You decide to reply to the texts. If Teach didn’t want you to send messages via text, he wouldn’t have let you charge your phone in the first place. Whatever he and Marco had agreed on, whatever he had planned, he wasn’t concerned about you, that much was obvious.

You: I know.

You: I’m okay. Cleaned up, and patched up. He hasn’t done anything.

A response from Marco was so quick you almost dropped the phone.

Marco: How did you get hurt?

You: Tried to run. Spit on his phone. He nearly put me through a wall. It looked worse than it is. I’m sore, but I’m okay.

Marco: I’m so sorry.

You: No. You didn’t do this. Don’t apologize.

You: I love you. It’ll be okay, like you said.

Marco: I’ll be there as fast as I can.

“You drink all that cocoa?” Teach asks, pulling your attention up from the phone.

You give him a long look for a moment, and then answer curtly. “No.”

“Yer a smart girl, trinket.”

“I feel a bit like an idiot for having ended up here.” You admit, aggravation in your voice.

“Eh... You gonna tell me what kind of devil fruit you got?”

“Nope.”

“If I tell you, ya have to?” He says, voice low and dangerous.

You consider quietly for a moment, and answer without looking at him. “I’d say you don’t have the time to break me, and if you kill me, you’ll never see a single berry again.”

“Been tortured before, have ye?”

You’re quite for a long moment. The honest answer is, no, you haven’t been tortured before. You’ve been emotionally manipulated and worn down, nearly convinced to hand over your freedom for the sake of a family who saw you collateral and not as a human. You’ve been desperate to survive in a world you knew very little about while also coming to terms with what you assumed would be an inevitably early death.

In the end, you’d survived. Whether by luck or fate didn’t really matter.

“We’ll just say I’m currently inclined to die before I answer your question.”

“I can appreciate that.”

Teach’s attempt to have a conversation between the two of you died after that. You left your phone alone while it charged, letting your mind and eyes wander in the flames of the hearth. Everything ached, your body hurt indiscriminately, but your cheek throbbed the most.

Tension was making your jaw set harshly, and that was making your cheek hurt, and that just made all the rest of your muscles tense. The only pain relief you had was to relax, and the only thing you couldn’t do was relax.

The time ticked away slowly.

Slowly, but inevitably, as the fire in the hearth began to visibly die down.

You shifted away from the hearth as Teach stood up and tossed a couple more logs onto it. He paused after he got it rolling properly, and looked out the window.

“Ah, he’s here.”

You look over to see the signs of headlights pulling up to the house as a rough hand grabs you by the back of your shirt, hauling you onto your feet and pulling you toward the back of the house. You hiss in pain, the swift action is like needles against your back, even with the bandages. You scramble to keep your feet under you as he throws you at the desk in the office room.

“Keep your hands on it.” He commands, and you hear the click of the pistol from earlier. Your back’s to the door that leads into the office, but you can see Teach as he moves to other side of it, the barrel pointed in your direction. “First hand to leave that desk is the one you lose, got it?”

“Yeah.” You force yourself to breathe, keeping your hands flat on the desk. Having your back to the door is hard. Not being able to see him, not being able to have some way of grounding yourself. So you focused on the desk when the front door opens.

Focused on the desk when you heard him call out for Teach.

Focused on the desk when Teach yelled for him to come to the office.

Focused on the desk when the hairs on your body stood on end, the barrel of Teach’s pistol suddenly far more threatening than it had been. You weren’t watching him, but you could feel his finger on the trigger.

“Set the bag down.” Teach instructs. You can’t see Marco, but you can tell where he is. Something from him reaches out to you. The first truly warm sensation you’ve felt since your car died.

You hear the fwump of a cloth bag hit the floor. It certainly sounds loud enough to have all the money in it Teach wants.

“Aim that at me.” Marco demands, and Teach laughs.

“Not a chance. Sea stone bullets or not, the first shot’s going in her. Hand, head, or heart depends on how you two behave.” You hear the gun cock and a cold shiver tenses your muscles. “Behave well enough, and all the bullets stay in the gun.”

Marco puts his hands up in surrender and Teach’s demeanor shifts.

“Now that’s what I like to see.” He grins, shifting around the room and out of your view. You feel the barrel of the pistol press against the back of your head. “There’s a pair o’ cuffs in the desk drawer, I suggest you put them on.”

Marco moves into your view, taking up Teach’s original position behind the desk. You look up at him, moving as little as possible. His eyes are hard and cold, locked on Teach. You both know your options will be far more limited with Marco in cuffs, but all Teach has to do is sneeze and it’ll be the end of you.

“Where’s the key, yoi?” He questions, pulling a pair of heavy iron shackles out of the drawer, and putting them on. Sweat beads on his skin, the color draining from his face and he nearly loses his footing. You almost move to help him, but you remember Teach’s words and keep your hands on the desk.

You’re so close. Close, and so painfully far away. Marco tries to stay standing, but the effect of the sea stone is too much and he sits in the chair so heavily it scrapes backward across the floor a couple inches with a sickening screech.

“Nasty strong, aren’t they?” Teach laughs. You can see strain etched on Marco’s face. He looks older than he’s ever looked before, it’s almost like the sea stone is poisoning him. “The key’s upstairs somewhere.” He adds idly.

You turn, mind already on the task of setting off after that key once Teach leave, when a strong hand pushes the middle of your back swiftly, slamming you flat onto the desk. You yelp from the unexpected attack, and can hear the chains of Marco’s shackles shift, Teach’s name on his lips in the shape of a swear. There’s a loud crack, and with cold dread you realize Teach has fired the gun.

“Move up out of that chair again, brother,” Teach says flatly. “And we’ll both learn if she’s got the kind of devil fruit what saves a person from being shot.

“Or not.”

Even with the cuffs on, you can feel his anger in the air. You want to tell him to calm down, that the anger’s just going to burn through what energy he has, but you’d be just as angry if the situation was reversed.

“Now that everyone is in an amenable position, I’m going to tell you a story. One that will be interesting to both of you.” You can hear the glee in his voice and it’s pissing you off.

“I’d start from the beginning, but ol’ Marco here knows most of it, so let’s just skip to, Roger tried to save the world and bloody failed. Sure he made it better, but not better enough. No pirates, and no real freedom either, a total loss. So what’s a gent like me to do?” Teach’s hand tightens it’s grip on your back and you hiss in a breath of pain.

“Ah, sorry, trinket.”

“What did you call her?” Marco’s voice was strained from the seastone, but it was tight with fear suddenly.

“Zhe-hahaha, you do remember!” Teach grabs you by the back of your neck and yanks you up. Your feet aren’t touching the floor, and your thighs are braced against the edge of the desk. Teach is too big for you to do anything but dangle, but he’s also almost palming your shoulders, so it’s not hard to breathe.

“There’s two devil fruits I’ve always been after, trinket.” Teach says, certainly talking more to you than Marco, but the two brothers were keeping a sharp watch on each other. “One, I got. Found the Dark Fruit a couple years ago. Just from wandering around the Grandline. Laying about like it was waiting for me. It’s always been part of a greater plan of mine, one that, admittedly, was easier to see come to fruition before the King ‘o Pirates screwed the world.

“The other was a fruit most people didn’t think was actually a devil fruit. All descriptions of it defy what we expect. Smooth, unpatterned, perfectly round, no stem or anything. So smooth and flawless it was more like a pearl than a fruit.”

All the blood drains from you. You were certain Teach could feel your body go cold.

“It had become an heirloom of sorts. Given to cross-island Nobles and Royalty looking to make political alliances. Not a gift, so much as a symbol.

“A trinket.”

Your throat goes dry. Eyes that hadn’t been looking at anything landed on Marco’s. You hadn’t told him the specifics of your devil fruit, anymore than he’d told you the specifics of his. But it seems, for different reasons, and in different ways, you both knew something about the other by accident.

“Turns out this little bauble was lost, last it was gifted, and everyone wanted it back. Not just the Royal family that had gifted it, but also the World Government, and they wanted it so bad that there was talk about just unleashing a buster call on the island to wipe everyone out. Dead bodies means the fruit would reform somewhere at least, yeah?”

You felt like you were going to be sick. You knew your home island hadn’t been leveled by a buster call, you kept your eye out for news about it all the time. You didn’t know the island’s name, but a buster call was devastation that couldn’t be buried.

But, you also knew why they wouldn’t risk it.

A devil fruit user on the island was a needle in a single haystack. The devil fruit itself could pop up literally anywhere. The needle then became one in one of thousands of haystacks. Even if they wanted to keep the details of the fruit secret, they wanted the fruit more.

“Seems I’m a damn sight better at talkin’ to the locals than the Government.” Teach continues, leaning over you enough to talk right into your ear. “Cause I found this one homeless scamp, had the most interesting story about a girl sharing a fruit with him. Taking a bite out of it to prove it wasn’t poisoned.”

“Teach.” Marco’s voice was desperate, caught between fear and anger.

“You know they’re offering three billion berries just for information?” He says, ignoring Marco. “What would they offer me if I brought the precious little trinket back?”

“Don’t,” Marco insists, the keening scrape of metal against metal as he tried to move. To plead, to beg if he needed to. “Teach, I’ll get you every berri on this island, don’t.”

“Do you know what her devil fruit is, brother dear?”

“It doesn’t matter.” His anger is gone, almost completely replaced by fear.

“Listen to you. You fell even harder than I thought. Well, it’s my fault, I should’ve followed my instincts from the beginning, pulled you off the street when you had that pup in your hands. I didn’t expect you to go back to the clinic again. Getting a lift from my frustratingly astute brother both times.”

“Friday… when I went to visit Azul.” You close your eyes in frustration. “I wasn’t imagining things.”

“Oh-ho-ho, you’re sharper than I thought. The dog must’ve been distracting you.” Teach laughs. “Marco really did land quite the rare bird!”

“Do you know?” You question. You’re trying to force yourself to be calm, to focus on the one thing that Teach’s fruit doesn’t let him suppress. It’s not something you’re easily capable of using, but you only need it for a moment to break his hold.

“Eh?”

“What it does?” You prompt, eyes on Marco as you try to focus on the energy that pulses through every person. Roger wielded it like breathing, even today certain marines were renown for their control of it. You could get there, you just needed time to focus. Haki was a gift bestowed upon the masses, but what use did an accountant have for it?

A lot, apparently. You admonish yourself for a second, wishing you’d spent at least a little more time honing the skill. Being able to use it was all well and good, but you needed too much time to concentrate on it for it to be useful in a fight.

“You asked me what it did earlier, but if you know so much, you must have some idea.” You lick your lips, trying to buy as much time as possible.

“I know it lets you transform.” Teach scoffs. “Not that I imagine that’s the truth of it, are you going to finally tell me, trinket? Is it something good enough to convince me not to turn ya in, eh?”

“Something like that. I can say at least it has the potential to earn you far more than the meager billions the Government would offer, assuming they even let you live for your troubles.” You explain as calmly as you can. Your stomach’s in so many knots you think the only reason you haven’t tossed the contents of it all over the desk is because you’re too nervous to puke.

“You’re really talking it up, trinket.” Teach says, a warning edge in his voice. You cut in before he can continue.

“Let go of me, just for a minute, and I’ll show you a library with all the knowledge of this world contained within it. Everything. The lost centuries, how to read poneglyphs, all the islands of the world mapped, ways to navigate the grandline without a log pose.” You say it quickly, making sure you get it all out before nerves or Teach’s lack of patience cuts you short.

Teach’s hand tightens, and he pushes you into the desk to the point that it’s hard to breathe against the added pressure. The pressure and rough grip persist until you cry out and squirm, the desire to breathe and get away from the pain overtaking your fear of getting shot.

“Betray me, trinket, and I’ll teach you things you can’t learn from a book.” He promises before finally letting up.

You sucked in a greedy breath, filling burning lungs despite the compounding pain of breathing so deeply in the first place. You hold a hand up toward Marco, as coughs make your whole body shudder. It takes you a minute to catch your breath, and in that time you slip off the desk and sit on the floor, looking up at Teach as you regain your composure.

The pistol’s in his hand, but at least for now he’s just pointing it down at the floor and not at anyone. All that concentration and build up to use haki, and now you didn’t even need it. You couldn’t believe the dumb luck that this idiot actually let go of you.

You consider saying something, doing something. Some final words or motion to bid him farewell, but instead, you just open the doors to the Library.

Right under his fucking feet.

#Birds of a Feather #Marco x reader #x reader #reader insert #marco the phoenix #marco the pineapple #modern au

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chaoscheebs · 6 months

Text

It's Midnight, Cinderella, chapter 1

In which Seto Kaiba meets a mystery man at a masquerade and things just click, but who could this man be...

(Chapter 1) - (Chapter 2) - (Chapter 3) - (Fic Tag)

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Sometimes, being a CEO sucked.

Once again, Seto Kaiba had to fulfill some inane obligation to attend a gathering of people who he either found intolerable, were seeking to use him to gain a step up in life, or worse, both. The worst part of it was this was supposed to be a masquerade, but no one seemed to bother putting in the effort to at least play up the one fun part of the concept and were largely in generic formal wear except for him. Pathetic.

Or he was alone in caring about style, until he spotted him. Soft blond curls falling softly to just above his shoulders. A carefully-tied cravat around his neck, ruffles adorning the bottom of his sleeves, shining buckles on his shoes, looking like he was a prince who walked out of some fairy tale. And judging from his frown and the way he looked around the venue, he was every bit as disappointed no one else was pushing style boundaries as Seto was.

Seto was hardly a social butterfly, but this man looked at least less insufferable than the rest of the people there, so he decided to walk over and strike up a conversation. If it turned out this man was just as dull as the rest, he was perfectly capable of walking away, after all.

Or he was going to strike up a conversation, but the man in question spoke first. The man looked him over, then smiled. “Thank goodness, I thought I was the only one who took this seriously. I was thinking about going home to change…” His voice was soft, but deeper than he expected for a man his size. It almost reminded him of…

Never mind what it reminded Seto of. The past was in the past, and he needed to remember that more often. “Hmph, don’t let others dictate what you do, especially when it’s clear you’re the one in the right. It’s them who wouldn’t know style if Special Summoned a monster right in their faces.”

The man laughed. “So you play Duel Monsters too? Glad to see I’m not alone there either.”

Seto faintly smiled. Well, now, this is shaping up better than expected. “Oh, really? Are you in the competitive scene?”

“Mm, sort of?” the man said, tapping a finger to his chin and tilting his head slightly to one side. “There’s someone who’s… I want to call him a ‘rival’, but is it really a rivalry if the other person never acknowledges you? Anyway, I’m looking to defeat him and prove myself to him.” He laughs weakly. “Kind of pathetic, don’t you think?”

“Only if you think of yourself as such,” Seto replied, frowning. “You’ll never defeat him if you have no confidence.”

The man laughed again. “Oh, I have plenty of confidence in my gaming skills! It’s just everything else that’s the problem.”

“Even that can have an impact,” Seto told him. “Walk tall like you mean business, even if you have to fake it. It’ll come naturally with practice.”

“Talking from experience?” the man asked with a smirk.

Seto took a half-step turn away from him, crossing his arms and scowling. “Do I look like the kind of man who needs to practice that?”

“With a reaction like that, yes,” the man said, stepping out so he was in front of Seto. “It’s kind of cute, though, in a tsundere sort of way~”

“‘C-cute’?! ‘Tsundere?!?’ What—?!” Seto sputtered indignantly. On what planet was he, Seto Kaiba, cute?!

“Extremely cute~” the man teased, raising himself on tip-toes to get closer to Seto’s face. “Adorable, even~” Seto turned his head with a “hmph”; a clear signal for the man to stop teasing him. “All right, all right, I’ll lay off now. Even if you are cute~”

“Anyway,” Seto interrupted forcefully, “what brings you here tonight? I don’t recall seeing you attending one of these things before.”

The man rubbed under his nose, suddenly feeling bashful. “Ahahaha… A friend of mine, who runs a small indie game company that’s been trying to break into the mainstream recently got an invite, and he sort of dragged me along, saying I need to ‘make more connections’ in the industry.” He looked around, frowned, then sighed as he gestured to a man with long, dark hair pulled back into a high ponytail, who was currently flanked by several women. “Unfortunately, he immediately decided to go flirt with girls instead of helping me with that.”

Seto smirked at the man’s dismay. “You know women can work in the gaming industry too, you know.”

The man rolled his eyes, or at least Seto presumed so, judging by the displeased tilt of the man’s head. “Well, yeah, of course, but I also know how he works. There is almost zero chance they’re talking about Dungeon Dice Monsters, believe me.” He shook his head and muttered, “And he knows I’m not the best at this kind of thing either…”

“You seem to be doing all right with me.”

The man heaved a sigh. “That’s different, you came up to me first. I never know where to start and how not to sound like a game-obsessed weirdo to people. It’d be one thing if this was a convention, but this is…”

“Full of stuffy executives who wouldn’t know a fun game if it noclipped through them and ragdolled in front of them?” Seto suggested.

The man smiled. “You. You get it.”

“I’d like to think so,” Seto said, smirking, “but I am more hands-on than most people in my position. Maybe if things had been different…” He trailed off abruptly. What was he thinking, he had just met this man and he almost started telling him his life story.

“Oh? ‘If things had been different’?” the man asked. The mask had some sort of tinted lenses obscuring his eyes, but somehow Seto could feel the concern in them coming through the lenses anyway.

“… it’s nothing. We’ll just say I’m fond of tinkering and leave it at that.”

The man frowned and started to reach out a hand, but thought better of it and let it drop. “… OK. If you’re not comfortable talking about… whatever it is… then I’m not going to pry.”

“Thank you.” Seto’s eyes briefly darted away, then returned their focus to the man. “I… appreciate the concern, however,” he muttered, almost too quiet to hear over the background chatter all around them. “Anyway. Duel Monsters,” Seto ever-so-smoothly changed the subject to, “What kind of deck do you use?”

“A control deck,” the man answered, “I like seeing how I can make weak monsters actually viable, y’know? It’s a fun challenge.”

Seto raised an eyebrow, not that is was noticeable behind his own mask. “Really? I know someone else who uses one, and he’s regarded as a formidable opponent.”

“Ahahahaha, you don’t say…” the man said, looking away as he absently tried fixing some imaginary flyaway lock of hair.

“He wouldn’t happen to be your would-be rival, would he?” Seto asked. “If so, you have an uphill battle ahead of you. For all the… difficulties between us, I would be lying if I thought just anyone could take him in a duel.”

The man, suddenly looking startled, waved his hands in front of him. “Oh, no, no, no! The man I’m after uses a beatdown deck and has this thing for dragon cards in particular! I’m not—I really couldn’t—!”

“Dragons, hm? Sounds like a man with taste,” Seto said approvingly.

The man’s eyes (Seto presumes) traced over the Blue-Eyes White Dragon embroidery adorning Seto’s suit, the head of the dragon resting over his shoulder. Pointing at the dragon’s head, the man says, “You’re a fan of dragons too, huh? Wouldn’tve guessed~”

Seto smirked. “You haven’t seen the best part of this yet, either.” He glanced around him, mentally calculating if he had enough space for what he was about to do, then reached into his jacket and flipped a hidden switch. White dragon wing materialized behind him, flapping gently for a moment before wrapping around him like a cape.

The man’s jaw dropped, then raised his hands just below chin-level, curled into fists. “That. Is so. COOL! Oh my gosh, that had to take a lot of effort to get right, especially with the energy consumption! I mean, whatever’s activating that has to be smaller than the compartment in a duel disk that contains the battery, right?!?”

“Correct,” Seto affirmed. “Unfortunately, that means there’s an issue with battery life that needs to be worked out still. This was only a side project I did for fun, after all.”

“’For fun,’” the man repeated. “Haaaa, I’d say that’s a weird idea of fun, but I’ve literally forced myself to learn coding and game engines so I could join month-long game jams, so I shouldn’t judge.”

“Really? What kind of games do you make?”

“Horror ones, mostly,” the man said. “At least in my indie work, anyway. I like trying different styles of game in the genre.” A thought struck him, then he quickly fished a card holder out of his pocket and pulled out a card to hand to Seto. “Here, in case you wanna check them out later.”

Seto accepted the card, nodded, and tucked it into a pocket without looking too closely at it; something he would later regret. “I’ll look into them, then.” The holographic wings flickered, causing him to sigh. “And that would be the battery life issue…” he grumbled, reaching into his jacket again and flipping off the switch.

“Ahaha, you at least got it working! That can be half the battle in itself,” the man said.

“True,” Seto admitted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Still, there’s room for improvement, and one way or another, I will get this so it can stay on for a full night, damn it.”

The man smirked at him. “You’re the stubborn type, huh? How cute~”

Seto rolled his eyes, scowling but feeling faint heat building his his cheeks and ears. “There you go with the ‘cute’ nonsense again.”

The smirk became a wide grin, and somehow, Seto couldn’t bring himself to deny it was, dare he say, ‘cute’? “Sorry, sorry,” the man said, without even the faintest hint of remorse. “There’s just something about you that make me want to tease you a little~”

“You’re nothing if not bold,” Seto replied, very pointedly not meeting the man’s gaze. “Most people wouldn’t dream of attempting that.”

The man shrugged. “I spent all of high school trying to hide,”—he muttered the next part bitterly—”and apparently failing at it—” he then resumed his normal volume, “that I was bi; I vowed nothing was gonna shove me back in the closet now~”

Seto’s mask may have hidden part of the now-deepening blush, but he just knew his ears were giving it away. Damn it. “I… see. So you really think…”

“That you’re cute? Absolutely~” the man said, looking infuriatingly smug as he stood on tip-toes to close more of the height distance between them. “It’s not every day you find someone smart enough and passionate enough about his hobbies to make holographic wings for himself and who’s also charmingly dorky on top of it~”

“First I’m ‘cute’, now I’m ‘dorky’?”

“The dorkiness is part of the cuteness!” the man insisted, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. Mask or no mask, it was clear he was enjoying himself and it infuriated Seto that he wasn’t infuriated by it.

“Ugh, why are you charming?” Seto grumbled to himself, earning a cute squeak from the man.

“Y-you think I’m charming?!” he said, his previous teasing bravado fleeing in a heartbeat.

Looks like he can dish it out but can’t take it, Seto smugly thought. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t still be standing here. I don’t tolerate wastes of time.”

The man looked at the floor, shyly rubbing his arm. “Ahahaha, I guess you wouldn’t, huh…?”

Some small part of Seto recognized this as somehow familiar, but that thought was shoved aside in favor of enjoying watching the man squirm. “Anyway, do you happen to have your deck on you? I want to see what you’ve got.”

The man frowned, then shook his head. “Unfortunately, I left that at home. Apparently most people frown on dueling during formal events?” he said, like this had either happened before or he had been scolded before he had a chance to try. Probably both, Seto thought; this man looks like the stubborn type.

“Sounds like it’s a ‘them’ problem and not yours,” Seto said before pulling out his phone and unlocking it. “How fast could you assemble a functional deck if you were provided cards?”

The man looked up and tapped his lips in thought. “Only functional? Probably not that long. It wouldn’t be that good, tho’. A good deck needs time and care.”

“True,” Seto agreed, tapping out a message on his phone. “I suppose in the interest of fairness, I’ll be making one up on the fly as well. It’s no fun crushing an unprepared opponent with the big guns.”

“Yeah, it’d only—what?” the man said, abruptly changing gears when the penny dropped. “Are you seriously—?!”

He didn’t need to finish the question; as if on cue a man appeared, carrying a large and very familiar briefcase. Satisfied, Seto tucked his phone back in his pocket and started to walk away in the courier’s direction. “I am. Come along now, time’s wasting.”

The man stared at him for a moment, laughed softly as he shook his head, almost as if he was used to this sort of thing, then went to follow Seto.

-----------

“Haaaa…” The man made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh as he set down his hand of cards. “Told you it wouldn’t be a good deck.”

Gathering his cards up, Seto replied, “True, but it put up a better showing than expected. You might have a chance against your mystery rival.” They had long since moved to a private room at the hotel the event was held in, because apparently it was considered rude to play cards during a non-card game event. And they dare call themselves professionals in the gaming industry; pathetic. Maybe if they would actually play a game every so often they could come up with something interesting.

“You really think so?” the man asked, doing the same after adjusting his mask. He seemed anxious about removing it, so Seto let it go and thus there it still sat upon his face.

Seto gets it. He doesn’t always want to be himself either, so he left his own mask on in some weird sense of solidarity. “I do. It takes a significant amount of skill in of itself to make a functioning deck in such a short time frame, let alone one that could actually give me pause.”

The man’s lips curved up into a smile—a genuine one, not a teasing one this time—and Seto found himself wanting to see more of it in the future. “That really means a lot to me; thank you.” The man then set his cards aside, stretched across the table, a hand on the table for stability and the other on Seto’s shoulder, and kissed Seto on the cheek.

The man lingered for a moment, and that’s all it took. Maybe the rush of winning got to Seto, or maybe the man’s teasing flirtations finally won him over, or maybe the man was just that damned attractive, but Seto found himself reaching out and pulling the man into a proper kiss on the lips, earning him a cute squeak of surprise from the man.

The surprise faded quickly, however, as that hand on Seto’s shoulder curled itself into a fist, clutching Seto’s jacket tightly, unwilling to let go. One kiss became two kisses, two become more, until the man climbed over the table and onto Seto’s lap.

Well. At least Seto knew where the man stood on continuing on. One hand buried itself in those soft blond curls, the other rested on the man’s back, slowly sliding downward until it found the soft curve of his ass and squeezed.

For having such a dull start, this was turning out to be a good night.

#yugioh #seto kaiba #yugi muto #rivalshipping #fanfiction #my fic #(yeah spoilers yugi is the mystery man but if you followed my rambles you knew that already)#it's midnight cinderella

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miyagifangkai · 2 years

Text

Rocky Beginnings

Tagged: Anonymous

Requests: I decided to combine these two requests because it fits!! Hope you don’t mind! 😊

I was wondering if you can write a story about Johnny and this reader (y/n) having kind of rocky start because she is Danny’s younger sister by like one year younger and like at the Halloween dance they say somethings and then the day after during the dojo confrontation. And

Hey can you just do some super fluffy Johnny x reader ?

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Cursing, mention of weed, violence, angst but then some cuteness

!DID NOT PROOFREAD!

Characters Involved: Young!Johnny, Young!Daniel, Reader (sister to Daniel), and Readers friend Tina

Relationship: Young!Johnny x Reader

A/N: Hope you like this!!! Got really inspired by these requests!! Had to write it ASAP!!! Thanks! 🥰

You and Johnny had been flirting with each other for awhile but you two had to keep it quiet as possible because Daniel and Johnny had a feud with each other. Every single time they got around each other it was practically battle royale. You had felt like you were betraying your brother, Daniel, every time you and Johnny would share glances and little quips with each other. You couldn’t help it, especially after the secret date you two went on.

“Aye! Where ya’ going?” Daniel throws his hands in the air.

“No where, really. Just to hang out with my friends.”

Daniel steps from behind the table, “Hmph. Friends, huh?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes, Sheriff Larusso.”

“What friends?” he smirks.

You chuckle, “First off, rude! And Secondly, just Tina. We are gonna go get milkshakes.”

Daniel takes a step towards you with his eyes squinted checking out the expression on your face. You made sure not to falter. You felt terrible for lying to your brother but you knew he would freak if he knew exactly where or even better yet, who, you were going with. Soon enough his eyes widen and he shakes his head.

“Okay, I’ll let you go,” you start to smile but your smile drops when he continues, “only if you let Mom and I drop you off.”

You gasp, “What? No! That’s so dorky!”

Daniel says, “Don’t care. That’s the only way.”

You shake your head and scoff, “No, Daniel! You’re not my Dad. You have no say in who I hang out with!”

Daniel takes another step back, “Why are you getting so worked up? It’s just Tina!”

You realize that you were making a big scene. You had no idea how to get yourself out of the hole you’ve just dug. You walk to the fridge to get a drink to avoid Daniel’s stare.

“Listen, it’s just Tina. Please let me have this,” you turn around and look at him to beg, “please don’t embarrass me tonight. Just this one night.”

Daniel sighs, “Fine. You can go alone. Just for tonight. But next time I want to go with you. I’m bored!”

You laugh, “Thank you! And yes, you can come next time.”

After you say goodbye to Daniel you head out to the diner to meet with Johnny. You two shared milkshakes and food and talked almost all night. You couldn’t wait to hang out with him again.

But, unfortunately, there wasn’t another time you hung out. It had been almost two months and you have heard nothing from Johnny besides his casual flirting or glances. You were kinda hurt but you’d never tell him that, you were a Larusso for God sake.

But your brother and Johnny’s tormenting was about to come to a head when the Halloween dance came along. Daniel had come home with more bruises and you would see Johnny with faint purple marks as well.

“Dude, this needs to stop,” you say with concern.

“Nah, it’s fine! Don’t worry,” Daniel brushes you off.

“No it’s not fine! You’re eventually going to have to tell someone. This needs to stop. And honestly, why are you two even fighting any way?” You question.

Daniel swats your hand away, “Just are. Just guy stuff.”

You narrow your eyes, “Fine. Don’t tell me then.”

You get out of your chair and walk to your room with Daniel sighing. He wanted to tell you everything. He wanted to let you know what was going on but he didn’t want you to worry. Even though your own brother was getting hurt in the process your mind still found it’s way back to Johnny. You couldn’t help but wonder if he thought about you from time to time, little did you know that he did, a lot. You wondered what he was gonna dress up as for the Halloween dance or who he’d go with, if anyone.

The day finally came. The day of the dance. You were in the gym with Tina and your friends decorating when you saw him. You were on the ladder hanging up streamers and your eyes caught his. He gave you small smile and minute wave with you pursing your lips together you look back at your friend.

“You okay?” Tina asks.

You nod your head timidly, “Yeah, fine. Hand me that,” you point to the orange streamer.

Tina hands it to you, “Are you sure? Why don’t you go talk to him?”

You shrug your shoulders, “Why would I? He’s done with me,” you step down from the ladder and meet your friend at eye level, “I’m not desperate.”

“I didn’t say that you were! I just said it couldn’t hurt to talk to the guy.”

“Yeah, I guess. Whatever.”

Tina glances behind your shoulder, “I hope you’re ready to talk. He’s coming over.”

“What?” your eyes widen as Tina makes her escape.

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself and close your eyes.

“Hey, got a sec?” Johnny asks softly.

You pick up a spider pretending to hang it up so you wouldn’t have to face him, “I’m busy,” you turn around, “sorry, Johnny.”

“Y/N, please. We need to talk.”

“About what? You blew me off. It’s okay though, I’m over it.”

Johnny sighs, “C’mon.”

You slightly start to give, “What, Johnny?”

“I didn’t blow you off, okay?”

“Liar.”

“I didn’t.”

“How come you haven’t talked to me, then?”

“Because.”

“Oh my gosh, you too? First my brother keeping secrets and now you? What the hell is going on between you two, seriously? It’s like you’re in some type of conspiracy.”

“Really, it’s not that important.”

You knew he was lying. You had caught Daniel training with Mr. Miyagi multiple times. You knew it had to do with karate stuff. You just didn’t know why it was so intense.

“But it is. Daniel comes home with scrapes and bruises all the time. You need to go easy on him. He’s tough but I don’t know if you are.”

Johnny is offended, “Excuse me?”

“I’m pretty sure he could kick your ass, Johnny,” your entire body started to overcome with anger, “he doesn’t have a glass jaw, ya know?”

Johnny tenses his jaw, “I’m guessing you’re not over us then?”

Your eyes go wide, “I am, just annoyed with you two constantly fighting. It’s stupid. Besides, there was no us.”

“Okay, it was one date, I know. But I like you. I really do.”

“Johnny–”

He takes a step closer, “I really do,” he smirks, “Go to the dance with me.”

“And put a wedge between me and my brother? I can’t.”

Johnny chuckles, “I’m willing to drop our rivalry for tonight.”

You roll your eyes, “No you’re not.”

“I am! I will! As long as he leaves me alone, I’ll leave him alone. Go with me.”

You sigh, “Okay, I’ll go. But no fighting!”

“Deal.”

As you and Daniel arrive home you decide to tell him.

“Daniel.”

“Yeah?”

“I have something to tell you.”

“What? Is it bad?”

“Uh–kinda?”

Daniel stops in his tracks, “I saw you and Johnny talking earlier, what’s going on?”

“He asked me to the dance.”

“You told him no, right? He just asked you to get to me.”

“Dan–”

“You said no, right?”

You say nothing.

Daniel asks again, “Right?”

No answer.

“I can’t believe this.”

“Daniel, listen! He didn’t–he didn’t do it to get to you.”

“What? Of course he did! And you fell for it!”

“Johnny and I went on a date a few months ago!”

Daniel stood there shocked.

“The night I made such a big deal about you tagging along.”

Daniel nods. Silently.

“I was with Johnny.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not. You’re going to the dance with him!”

“He said he’s willing to drop the fighting with you.”

“Huh?”

“Well, for tonight.”

“Right,” Daniel looks down at the ground.

“Don’t be mad.”

“Well, I am! You seen what he’s done to me!”

“I know. But maybe I can change that.”

“Y/N, he’s not a science project.”

“But–”

“But nothing. You said yes. So go.”

Daniel walks inside to make his costume for the dance. You stand there outside taking in the warm sun and breeze. You look up at the sky and close your eyes at the sun. You had a feeling what you were doing was wrong but why did it feel so right?

You and Daniel head to the dance with him still giving you the silent treatment.

He had went as a literal shower and you as a witch.

You two walk in the gym with Daniel gaining many stares and you making your way to Johnny.

Johnny spots you and smiles, “You came! I thought you were gonna blow me off!”

“It’s what you deserve but I couldn’t resist.”

Johnny leans down and snakes his arms around your neck, “You’re trouble, ya know that?”

You chuckle, “I know.”

You two stand there like you both were the only two in the gym and you soak in the moment. His smile, his eyes, his everything. Your moment gets interrupted by Dutch mumbling something about weed and Johnny excuses himself fto head to the bathroom. You find Tina and your friends and head over.

“Hey!”

“Y/N! I saw you with Johnny!”

“Yeah, he asked me to come. I think he just ditched me for weed so,” you shrug.

“Ah, boys will be boys! Go smoke with them!”

You laugh, “Nah, I’m good.”

You and Tina sip on your drinks as you scan the room for a shower curtain but you didn’t spot one. Where did Daniel go? He’s sneaky. You knew that. There’s no way he would mess with Johnny tonight. No way.

Yes way. You see your brother quickly rushing out of the bathroom and Johnny and his goons running after him as they were all – wet?

“What the fuck!” You almost scream and chase after them.

You see Daniel almost get hit by a car with you yelling after him to no avail.

They get out of your sights and you can’t see no sight of him. You go back inside and tell Tina you’re going home. You were so embarrassed and angry. At both Johnny and Daniel acting like a bunch five year olds.

You arrive home some time later and see Daniel laying on the couch, “Daniel?”

Daniel tries to sit up but he can’t. He grabs his side at every movement he makes.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, don’t tell ma’.”

“I– I– I won’t,” you stutter.

“He got me pretty bad.”

“I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I trusted him.”

Daniel lightly chuckles followed by a hiss at his pain, “Yeah, me neither.”

After that you kept your distance from Johnny. Avoiding any type of contact with him. You could tell it was eating him up on the inside. You head over to the field to study and do some homework during your free period when you see Johnny and Daniel walk up to each other. You immediately stand up and join Daniel at his side. You look up at Johnny and almost gasp at the big bruise on his face. You somehow felt bad for him. You wanted to be there for him and you could tell he wished you were by his side by the longing looks he was giving you.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. He can’t hurt me. Not like he ever did. But, not until the tournament, right Johnny?” Daniel pats his shoulder with Johnny tensing his jaw.

“You’re dead after this. Dead.”

Daniel laughs and starts walking away leaving you and Johnny standing there alone.

“Johnny–”

Johnny walks away from you lightly bumping into your shoulder leaving you speechless. Something must’ve went seriously sideways for the two to not be beating up each other. A weird truce? You weren’t sure.

As the weeks pass on and Daniel wins the tournament Johnny takes a seat beside you at the lunch table.

“Johnny?”

“Hey.”

“Wha–”

“I’m sorry.”

You turn to look at him, “Sorry?”

“For being an asshole. Well, not to Larusso. But to you.”

You look away.

“I really am, though. I did blow you off.”

“Yeah, you really did.”

“I know.”

“Johnny, I still like you.”

“You do?”

You look up at him, “I do. A lot.”

Johnny confidently drapes his arm over your shoulders, “Good. Because I like you too.”

You lean into his touch. Enjoying his warmth. There was something about Johnny. Even when he was so cold towards you, you felt some type of warmth to him. He couldn’t help it. He had that affect on you and you on him.

Johnny leans down and whispers in your ear, “I like you too.”

You feel the chill up your spine and he leans back up.

“So what do you say? Date? Saturday? Seven o’clock?”

“I say, yes.”

You beam up towards him causing him to smile back.

You two share a quick kiss.

You and Johnny had a rough start but you did have to say the man was persistent with you; and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#cobra kai #karate kid #johnny lawrence x reader #johnny lawrence #Daniel Larusso #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai headcanons #cobra kai fanfic #karate kid imagine

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heroes-villains-side-blog · 2 years

Text

Prompt, well, tags, by @just-a-space-rabbit

Today had so far been great, in fact it had been fantastic! Well… that is what Hero would have said 30 minutes ago…

But now sitting in the back of Supervillain’s car, with their hands cuffed together and Supervillain’s arm placed around Hero’s shoulder, they were not so sure anymore…

Hero at Narrator: 😑

Narrator: Hey, it's not my fault you can break the fourth wall!

Hero: Hmph. It's times like these I really hate my power, I could've at least pretended that's not the direction life was going but noooo. Now, here I am, practically knowing the future but unable to stop it!

Supervillain:...You okay there? You're growling to yourself.

Hero: I'm fine! I'm perfectly fine! What's next on our agenda, hm? A picnic? Restaurant? Your lair? Maybe you only cook one thing and that happens to be my favorite, then you'll feel sorry for kidnapping me and get up to leave but I'll grab your arm and we'll stare into each other's eyes and you'll ask if I'm mad at you but I'll kiss you and shut you up and say 'does that answer your question?'

Supervillain:... Hero... I had no idea you felt that way.

Hero: Of course, I didn't! Er, I mean, of course, you didn't.

Supervillain: If I had known you felt this way I never would have kidnapped you.

Hero: Somehow I doubt that, but sure.

Supervillain: I wouldn't have, I swear!

Hero: Alright, whatever. Are you gonna let me go now?

Supervillain: *not listening* And here I was going to hold you hostage to blackmail Superhero.

Hero: What?

Narrator: Hero x villain doesn't always need to mean romantic, you idiot! It can mean platonic or even just mean that they're interacting, be it fighting or flirting.

Hero: Oh. Oh no.

Supervillain: But you know what?

Supervillain: *to driver* Henchman! Turn the car around! We're going home! And I'm going on a date!

Supervillain: *to Hero, while uncuffing them* Oh, Hero. I definitely didn't feel that way but now that I know you do, well, I should at least give this a chance, right? For your sake.

Hero: For my sake...ugh.

Narrator: Well, now I'm curious to see where this goes 👀🍿

Hero: I hate you, Narrator.

Narrator: Hey, I'm not the one who got you into this mess. This was all you. And also, may I ask why you know all these hero x- I'm sorry, romantic hero x villain tropes?

Hero: What are you talking about? It's because of you! You keep writing them!

Narrator: Nu-uh. I've never written anything like what you described in blue up there.

Hero: Uhhh

Narrator: I've never even read the tropes you described.

Hero: Uhhhhhhh

Narrator: Admit it. You like romantic hero x villain tropes, don't you?

Hero:

Narrator: Hey, what are you doing?

Hero: Almost there

Hero the Narrator: And the villain let Hero go. And Narrator never troubled Hero again. And Hero had the best life ever.

Ex-Narrator: How did you do that?

Hero the Narrator: Well, since you very embarrassingly proved that I have some power in this story. I mean, otherwise Supervillain wouldn't have changed his motivation and the plot just like that. So, I figured that I can take your place and fix everything.

Hero: *to driver* Stop the car, please.

Hero: *to Supervillain* I appreciate your kindness, but there's been a misunderstanding. I don't feel that way about you.

Supervillain: Oh. Okay.

Hero: I'm sorry I made you think that way.

Supervillain: It's alright. It happens.

Hero the Narrator: And so Supervillain unlocked the car without any hard feelings.

Hero: *gets out of car and stretches* See? Problem fixed!

Ex-Narrator: One that you created, but sure. But I must warn you, sometimes stories and characters have a mind of their own.

Hero The Narrator: What's that supposed to mean?

Supervillain: *gets out of car* Hero! Hero, here. I want you to have this.

Hero: What?

Supervillain: It's nothing special, just a flower I picked up this morning and would have thrown it away but...

Hero: But?

Supervillain: Well, it matches your suit and it's pretty and I just- I just think you should have it.

Hero:

Hero The Narrator: Narrator! What did you do?

Ex-Narrator: I didn't do anything. I can't do anything, just look at my title! I told you, sometimes stuff just happens.

Supervillain: *holding the flower out bashfully*

Hero: I- uh... thank you?

Supervillain: You're welcome. Bye now :)

Hero: *grabs Supervillain's arm* Wait.

Ex-Narrator: What are you doing?

Hero The Narrator: Shut up!

Ex-Narrator: You're... You're falling for the villain?

Hero The Narrator: It's only because- because—

Ex-Narrator: Because you're a sucker for soft villains

Hero: Because I'm a sucker for soft villains

Supervillain: What?

Hero: Nothing. I would like that date now, if you're okay with it, that is

Supervillain: Oh, alrighty :)

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deepestbluesky · 1 year

Note

Oh a tag game!

I'm in the mood for some pure unapologetic fun/chaos, so lemme outline some complete insanity–

Ok so, imagine post canon established hwz end up in a parallel world for some reason or other – that world being a pre-war mdzs. First off, this is incredibly annoying for zzs because he is missing a lot of info here and goes full spymaster to find out more, meanwhile hy keeps getting mistaken as some lordling or other, while wkx preens that clearly now hy and him share a last name and proceeds to tell every passerby that this is due to wkx marrying into the wen clan and 'wen xu' insisting on him taking on the name. Everyone they encounter is incredibly bewildered; wen xu married a man?! Wen xu is slumming it without retainers? Oh god why did he suddenly turn so much more competent and lowkey??

Wkx is having the time of his life, hy is mildly uncomfortable with the constant attention, and zzs is just Existing. Shenanigans ensue before they return to their own world as suddenly as they came, leaving absolute chaos in their wake.

Of course if that's too insane for you, i can also alternatively offer:

Hy's birthday is coming up, and wkx only finds out because zzs is being shifty. So wkx stalks zzs when he goes down into the town to 'buy more wine' and instead finds him comissioning a hairpin. Clearly wkx has to find out why, for whom; and then naturally find something else he can gift hy in an attempt to one-up zzs and thoroughly spoil hy

siv i can't believe you would challenge me like this 😔 offering me alternatives as if i've ever not simply picked both in my LIFE

It's not that Zhou Zishu has never seen Han Ying lose his temper. He has, a handful of times. However, a handful is still small enough that it's always notable when it does happen, and additionally, he's never been there to see Han Ying's temper steadily rising over time, nor the exact moment when it boils over. "Kexing," Han Ying says, hands balled into fists at his side. "Has it occurred to you that no one would have known who I supposedly am if you didn't keep telling them! Everyone has been very clear! They've never seen Wen Xu before in their life. Which is good for them, since they all seem to hate him—correctly, it seems, if he's the reason they're all living so miserably—but you decided it was a good idea to not only accept the one foolish old man who said I looked just like him, but also to throw his name around everywhere! If someone comes trying to kill Wen Xu, I'll be sure to thank you!" And with that last shouted barb, Han Ying storms off, leaving Wen Kexing standing dumbstruck in the middle of the room. "Good job, Lao Wen," Zhou Zishu says, smirking a little. Wen Kexing whirls on him. "How are you so calm about this, then?" "I already saw someone flying with my own eyes, nothing is going to startle me now."

and secondly:

"A-Xiang," Wen Kexing calls imperiously. "Come here." Gu Xiang rolls her eyes, but puts down the book she's been plodding through and comes over to her brother. "What?" He glares at her. "I know I raised you to be more polite than that, are your manners truly so lacking?" She sticks her tongue out at him. What kind of question is that, anyway? "Is that all? Can I go back to my book now?" "Hmph. No, I need you to tell me if you've heard anything from the other disciples about Han Ying's birthday." Gu Xiang stares at him. "Wait, you're sleeping with him and you don't even know his birthday?" Wen Kexing leaps to his feet, and grabs for her ear. "Who taught you to say such things in public?" he scolds. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, ge, leave me alone!" "Answer the question!" Gu Xiang pouts up at him, head tilted to the side since he still hasn't let go of her ear. "I think Zichen said something about they're trying to get Han-dage some sweets from town without him knowing about them, and maybe some new brushes?" "When?" "Uhhh three days from now? Unless it was four—" She yelps and finally twists away from Wen Kexing. "Three days! Go ask them yourself, I'm leaving!" Gu Xiang grabs her book, and leaps out of the courtyard as fast as she can. She'll just go somewhere else. It's not worth it.

happy now???

#what am i even DOING HERE?????#😂#to be clear this was very fun #i did not even reread what i wrote tho so hopefully i didn't accidentally make any rude typos #my fic

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scknight05 · 1 month

Text

Fuck It Friday

Tagged by the always wonderful @tizniz

So, how we all doing guys? It's been 24 hours since the most wonderful thing has happened. I've watched the episode twice and those last five minutes NUMEROUS times. It's so beautiful!

Anyway this is actually the first 9-1-1 story I ever decided to work on. I shelved it after a bit because I needed to rework some stuff but haven't gotten around to it yet. I'm not giving up on it cuz this stupid little idea has spawned into a series of ideas/stories I want to try and pull off at some point. So enjoy the nonsense of my multiverse crossover idea! Snippet and more behind the cut.

“You have got to be kidding me! This is… this unreal!” Eddie gazed in amazement and he and Buck slowly made their way down the short ramp into the bridge. “I’m seeing it…but I’m still not believing it.” Buck stopped and slowly spun around, taking in the sight before them. “Ya know,” Buck began, taking a moment to let his brain try and process what he was seeing, “when I woke up this morning, I was NOT expecting to end up on the Millenium Falcon!” “How typical. You save a man’s life and he repays you in insults by comparing you to the most boring ship ever.” Buck slightly cowered as the unknown voice surrounded him while Eddie just froze wide eyed in his tracks. “Uh.. Okay maybe the Enterprise then.” Buck threw his hands up defensively, not even sure who he was arguing with. “Hmph. That would be an improvement over the last example.” “Wait, wait, wait.” Eddie looked around, even more confused. “Who is even saying that? We heard that voice earlier when we were in the medical area.” “Oh that’s just Gideon.” Drew said with a smile as he and Riley walked to the hexagonal console in the center of the room. “And Gideon would be who, exactly?” Buck asked as if the name would mean something. Buck barely had a chance to finish his question before a holographic blue head appeared above the console, starring directly at him and Eddie. “Hello, gentlemen. I am Gideon, the artificial consciousness programmed to operate the critical systems of the ship. Welcome aboard the Wave Rider, Mr. Buckley. And you as well Mr. Diaz.” “Buck..” Eddie stared at Gideon’s holographic image as she spoke to them both, using the back of his hand to lightly tap his best friend’s arm to get his attention. “it knows our names.” “Uh Gideon is a she. Not an ‘it’.” Drew corrected sternly. “And I’d be a bit nicer if I were you. She did save your lives after all.” “You’ll have to forgive Eddie.” Buck never took his eyes away from Gideon. “He’s kind of a technophobe. Had a bad experience with a smart house AI once.”

Tagging @warpedpuppeteer @racerchix21 and anyone else. I don't know who else to tag lol

#911 #911 fanfic #buddie fanfic #crossover fanfic #legends of tomorrow #multiverse crossover #evan buck buckley #eddie diaz #.#also yes #I used my name for an OC because I couldn’t come up with a name I liked and never changed it #so sue me

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prettyboykatsuki · 3 years

Text

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

what i want | s. todoroki

➳ tags ;; face-sitting, afab!reader, overstimulation, scent kink (?), smut, mdni 18+

➳ wc ;; 1.5k

➳ a/n ;; saw a tiktok + and read this shiggy drabble by @/saintdabi ‘s and now this concept wont leave me alone in anyway. literally wrote this like i was posessed...

➳ plot ;; midoriya sends a certain link in the groupchat. todorki gets curious and clicks. suddenly he wants to try seomthing.

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

“Can we try something?”

The question catches you off-guard. Not because it’s a weird and kind of vague question (which it is) but because of who’s asking. Todoroki rarely ever brings things up out of the blue. You’re trying to make dinner so you don’t really have a lot of time to think about why. You dry your wet-hands on the front of your apron, stirring the pot.

You don’t bother to think twice when you reply to him.

“What do you wanna try?”

A silence falls. It’s just a beat too long, which isn’t uncommon for him but isn’t what you expect. You glance over your shoulder after salting the water, squinting. Todoroki almost mirrors you, reading something off his phone. He looks up at you after taking one last glance, as if to make sure he got it right.

“Face-sitting,”

You almost fall over.

He says it so nonchalantly, you’re almost sure you’re hearing things. You brace yourself on the counter and turn down the heat almost entirely, trying to ensure your house doesn’t go down in flames. You blink at him owlishly.

“Sorry.. can you repeat that?”

He looks confused. He was sure he said it correctly. He blinks a few times, glances at his phone again as he tilts his head to one side.

“..face-sitting?”

You think you’ve gone mad but he looks at you like you’re the one who’s lost it. Your skin grows beyond hot underneath your clothes - a vague emotion of arousal rolling through you. With your mouth agape, you decide that there’s no way you could continue with dinner so you turn it off and stare at him. Nervously, you cross your arms over your chest.

“.. Where did you..?”

Todoroki, stoic as ever, shrugs. He looks down at his phone and this time, you can hear the constant buzzing.

“Midoriya sent a link into the chat on accident. I clicked it,” ― he says, and then seemingly decides this needs absolutely no more explaining than that ― “It looked interesting,”

You stare at him.

“Were you... watching porn while I made dinner?”

He nods. You think you might lose your mind at this rate but you press forward anyways, eyes looking down at his pants. He’s as soft as can be, you’d know.

“You’re not hard..?”

He nods, again. Looks at you confused like he has some reason to be.

“I only get hard with you,”

You inhale a sharp breath. You think this man might kill you some day, but you’d probably let it happen. Shaking your head, you lean against the counter. With a smile of sympathy, you decide to be straightforward with it.

“..I’m pretty sure I’d crush you baby,”

Without missing a single beat, he shakes his head. This time, there’s a faint hint of a blush on his face.

“I don’t care. I.. really want to,” ― he looks up at you with the most curious eyes you’ve ever seen ― “Please?”

You’re not sure how to feel. The possibility of mishap is enough to make you want to reject him again but he looks so hopeful. The idea of your beloved boyfriend walking around sulking is guilt-inducing enough to make you sigh and give in. He smiles when you nod.

You walk over towards him, only really planning on giving him a kiss. You’d been out most of the day and were planning on taking a night-shower after dinner.

“Okay, well - let me shower first and -”

He shakes his head, almost petulant. Strong arms wrap around your waist as he drags you down to his lap with an urgency he can’t seem to contain. You yelp audibly, hearing soft breaths in your ear. Something twitches to life underneath you as soon as you sit, making your eyes grow wide.

“Can’t wait that long and..I like it better like this,”

Your eyes grow wide. The “this” remains vague but you’ve caught onto how Todoroki seems to like you more before you’ve showered than after. Still, it makes your skin hot. You want to argue with him - about to protest and struggle out of his grip but all of a sudden his voice goes raspy. Soft and low against the nape of your neck.

“Please, my love. I really want to,”

You swallow the saliva in your mouth, mind blanking at the sound of his voice. It goes right to your core, a pleasant throb in your shorts. You’re still wearing your apron and PJ’s. You agree maybe too easily, weak to him and his desires.

“Fine but how do you want to...? On the couch..?” Your words come out unusually meek. You’re never such a nervous person there’s something thick in the air. Palpable desire that makes you weak.

A warmth settles in your skin as he wastes no time, undoing your apron and letting it fall to the floor. Slender, pretty fingers go into the waist band of your shorts and without a second thought, he helps you slide them off your legs.

It’s almost like an inspection, how you’re sprawled over his thigh. It’s all happening so fast - your mind moves too slow to keep up. His pointer finger drags across your clothed cunt, chin resting over your shoulders. His brow furrows at the wet-spot on them. A whine leaves you in embarrassment that he ignores.

“You’re wet already.. sorry to make you impatient,”

The apology is so genuine you’re not sure how to reply.

“Here.. I’ll lay like this and you can rest your knees on the cushion,”

You move off of him and stand to see what he means. He gets himself comfortable, head resting on the armrest of the couch. You blink as he gestures to where you should place yourself. When he says sit on his face, he means sit . He means lean forward so your ass is facing him. The realization hits you like a truck.

Out of obligation, all the furniture in your house is lavish and this couch is no exception. All white and big enough that you could spread out on it without much effort. You know you’ll fit but you hesitate. Todoroki looks at you patiently but you can practically feel how much he wants it.

With a little help, you manage to get into position. It’s a little humiliating - the feeling of his warm breath fanning your cunt. You’re still just hovering above him, and you squirm around as best you can. So nervous you think you’ll pass out.

“Are you sure you want to ― aah!,”

Without a word of warning, Todoroki pulls you down until the full weight of you ends up on his face. Your panties are still on but he doesn’t seem to pay any attention, his tongue lapping at your clit with such fervor you can’t help but moan. The angle from which he eats you hits the spot so perfectly, works you up until your pussy is practically drooling on his face.

You let out a feverish squeal at the pleasure, still light but overwhelming enough that you’re wiggling away. Every now again between licks, he lets out a deep groan that vibrates against your sex so sweetly. Your stomach churns as your hands splay on his abdomen.

“Sh-shouto my, fuck - my panties, you’re gonna get them, hmph”

He lets you up, ever so briefly, just to whisper a hoarse “sorry,” move your panties just to the side before making you plunge right back down onto his tongue. You taste sweet and slight - but it’s better after a long day. So much stronger in his mouth, he can’t enough of it.

Saliva and slick drip down his chin and cheeks, further fueled by the way you whimper above him. He eats you out very often but it’s different like this - you can’t go anywhere because his arms are secure around your thighs and his tongue keeps slurping so greedily at your swollen clit. He’ll stop just to feel it pulsate before carrying on with incredible enthusiasm.

And he moans through it like it turns him on more than him fucking you. You’re honestly inclined to believe it might. His hands that rest on your ass, spreading you apart so he can go just that much deeper. Your nerves are being worked, the sheer stimulation is too much for you. He’s overzealous and shameless about it too.

“You taste so good my love, fuck”

Hearing him speak to you makes tears well at your eyes. He slides his tongue over your puffy clit over and over until he hits a rhythm. The constant feeling of pleasure sparks again and again and again until an orgasm so steadily builds in you.

“Shouto, shouto - baby, please! Slow down or I’ll c-cum,”

He heard you, he must have because if anything he goes that much faster. So fast that you’re practically sobbing his name, drooling and blindsided as the coil in your belly snaps. You cum so hard and so fast, you think you’re going to see your maker. Your toes curl and your walls flutter. A high whine leaves your mouth.

“Baby, no more - can’t anymore,”

He stops but only to speak with an almost delirious voice. Deep and possessive as his hands bury into your hips.

“I’m not done yet”

You realize a second too late what you’ve just gotten yourself into.

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

#todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #todoroki x you #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #todoroki x y/n #prettyboy.thirsts #i literally wrote this in an hour like something possessed me #writing tag #formal

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spencer-reid-in-a-pool · 3 years

Text

It Was You All Along (Part 7)

Author’s note: So that wasn’t much of a break, but I couldn’t resist! Here is the next installment of the series, featuring a meme I made myself to reflect the vibes of the first half of this part! And yes, it is supposed to be that pixely. It adds spice. Also, I tried to be as vague as possible describing reader’s outfit towards the end so that you could imagine it the way you wanted! As always, feedback is appreciated, and I hope you all enjoy! Link to my ask box!

Tags: @ayyyyitswednesdaymydoods @blackjay04 @weaselbee04 @bravelittlesunflower @mxsmwndr

A voice called for me, but I didn’t quite process it. I was too busy trying to fix this gigantic, gaping hole in Geralt’s trousers. Melitele knows if I don’t do it, he would just walk around with it decorating his attire.

The voice called for me again, but this time I ignored it on purpose. If I lost concentration, I would prick myself with the needle...again. And I didn’t really want to turn my fingers into more of a bloody mess than they already were.

I heard footsteps beside me, but I didn’t realize how close they were until a rush of coldness surrounded my body. Not only coldness, but wetness. A bucket of ice cold water had been dumped on me, causing me to scream and drop what I was doing as I stood up in shock.

“Julian!”

His real name still felt unfamiliar on my lips. I had taken to calling him that every so often, usually when I was angry with him, or when I was messing with him. It was for that reason, I think, that he froze so suddenly when I spoke. He wasn’t used to it either, even though he was the one that suggested I start using it more.

The bucket made a small thump sound as it hit the ground beneath us, and Jaskier raised his hands up in an apology. But he also backed away like a scared animal. I almost felt bad for him. Almost, but not quite.

“Now, (Y/N)...I was just trying to get your attention is all. It’s quite important, you see.”

I gathered my skirts in my hands and stomped towards him, scowling and shivering the whole way.

“What could possibly be so important that you couldn’t wait until I was finished? And what made you think dumping cold water on me was a good idea?”

I didn’t give him a chance to respond before I starting running towards him, my clothes making a sloshing noise against my skin. A string of curse words left his mouth as he took off trying to get away from me. He could be quite fast when he wanted to be. But no way was I going to let him get away from me that easily.

As soon as he picked up speed, so did I. He wove through the trees surrounding our campsite, going in between them like a maze. Eventually we made it back to where we started. My spot was near a tree and the pants I had been working on were visibly in a bunch on the ground. But behind that was the river that I’m assuming the idiot got the water in the first place. I wonder if I could lead him back there... and “accidentally” knock him in.

As luck would have it, I didn’t even have to put that thought into action. He had made his way to the edge of the river, and turned quickly on his heel trying to run away from me again. But he slipped on the muddy bank, and fell right into the water himself.

Coming to a stop, a sharp laugh came from my chest suddenly. And I laughed even harder when he bobbed above the surface, hair sticking to his forehead and his fancy doublet soaked.

“That’s what you get!” I yelled to him between bouts of laughter.

While Jaskier pulled himself out of the water unceremoniously, I heard more footsteps behind me followed by a thud. Geralt must be back. Only one man I know could walk and sit down that heavily.

I turned towards the sound, and sure enough, Geralt was sitting down on the log he had claimed as his earlier. He took one look at me and one look at Jaskier who was now standing on the bank of the river, shivering like his life depended on it.

“I don’t even want to know,” said Geralt with a twitch of his eyebrow and a roll of his eyes.

Night had fallen now. I couldn’t help but reflect on the past few months since that attack at our camp. Things had been pretty boring since then honestly. But I guess I couldn’t complain. Being bored was better than being in danger.

Geralt was asleep and snoring at an unholy volume. This of course caused a glance between Jaskier and I, and sent us into a fit of silent laughter together. The kind of laughter that had your stomach hurting and your mouth open with no sound. The kind that had you grabbing onto your friend for dear life. Which is precisely what the two of us were doing right now. I had such a grip on Jaskier’s arm, I thought he surely must be in pain. But if he was, he made no mention of it and kept laughing with me.

However much time had passed, it seemed to only be a few minutes. And I still had my hand on his arm, although my grip definitely lessened. He didn’t notice this either, and simply looked into the dying flames with dried tears from his laughter on his cheeks. My gaze lingered a moment too long on his cheeks, and I began to think about how gentle his eyelashes looked against his skin as he blinked.

Heat rose in my cheeks and I silently withdrew my hand from his arm. This seemed to catch his attention though.

“Composed yourself now? Don’t need to steady yourself from anymore laughter?”

There was a glint in his eye as he asked me the questions. I had to keep from smiling.

“That depends. Got any jokes?”

He stood suddenly and rested a hand on his chin, making it seem like he was deep in thought.

“You look as if you are composing a new song, Julian.”

“I’m a musician, my dear, I am always composing.”

He paced around the fire, which was even lower than before. The way he took everything so seriously was something that entertained me, and I couldn’t help but smile to myself because of it.

Suddenly, he opened his mouth in a silent “Aha!”

“(Y/N), why must you never use a broken pen?”

I paused for a moment and scrunched my face in thought, trying to come up with an answer. But before I could, he delivered the punch line.

“It’s pointless, darling.”

I snorted at the same time Geralt groaned. The fucker was awake.

Jaskier almost jumped out of his boots at the sudden noise, which only caused me to laugh again. The pain in my stomach from earlier was back, but I couldn’t keep from laughing.

“Have you been awake this whole time, Geralt?” Jaskier yelled in surprise.

“Long enough. Don’t you have anything better to do? Like sleep?”

Jaskier open and closed his mouth a few times before settling on a simple, “Right,” in response. He then took his spot a few feet away from Geralt and laid down for the night.

“Goodnight, Geralt.” Jaskier said with a stifled yawn.

Geralt simply grunted in return, rolling over so his back was facing Jaskier.

“Goodnight, (Y/N),” Jaskier called in my direction.

“Goodnight, Jaskier. And goodnight Geralt!”

“Hmph,” was all I got in response.

There was a silence over our camp now. But it was too quiet. The kind of quiet that felt like it would be broken at any moment now. Jaskier’s voice was what broke it, of course.

“Goodnight, Roach.”

“Oh, yeah! Goodnight, Roach and Lily!” I called out excitedly.

“How could I forget Lily? Goodnight, Lily!” Jaskier parroted.

“Oh, for the love of-” Geralt groaned loudly, sitting up and gathering his things. He promptly moved farther and farther away from us, settling on a spot under the cover of darkness in the trees.

I snickered to myself as I got my things ready to lay down. Annoying Geralt had become one of our favorite things to do together over the past few months.

It became silent again, and I could hear Jaskier’s even breathing now, signalling that he was asleep. I had the feeling I wouldn’t be able to sleep. Call it instinct, I guess.

I laid down on my back and stared up at the sky. Jaskier and I were closer than ever, and it was so nice. But I needed more. I craved more. They say time heals all wounds, but my heart was still shattered after all these months had gone by. I was still so in love with my best friend that it hurt. Even more than it did before.

Jaskier had been acting differently lately though. He called me more nicknames, and he was even more of a flamboyant disaster than when I first met him. Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen him with any random women in bars or taverns anymore. Could he-? No. No way. I must be out of my mind.

My fingers instinctively went to the dagger Geralt had given me a while ago. Sometimes I would run my hands along the inscription, trying to remind myself to be brave like it said. I could almost laugh at myself right now. I was being anything but brave when it came to Jaskier.

“Could you please calm your nerves down? I can feel them from over here,” a gruff voice said in the distance. Geralt. Of course.

“Sorry to disturb you. Maybe you should move to another new spot, even farther away. Oh yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask. How is Yennefer?”

I didn’t have to have Witcher senses to feel how that comment landed.

Morning came much more quickly than I was hoping it would. It meant today was the day we had to get moving, which meant we would be moving closer to the situation I had been trying to avoid thinking about. The ball.

I seemed to be the last one awake, and I could feel the energy as soon as I had rubbed the sleepiness from my reluctant eyes. Geralt sad brooding in the corner of our camp, and Jaskier was flitting about getting everyone’s things together. It was easy to see who was excited and who was not.

“Today is the day, you sad sack of...sadness,” Jaskier vocalized in regards to Geralt.

“I know. Don’t remind me.”

I almost laughed as I sat up from my spot on the ground. Geralt wasn’t looking forward to this, and truth be told, I wasn’t either. At least part of me wasn’t. The other part couldn’t help being excited in a childlike way. I had never been in a castle before, let alone a ballroom. Although I couldn’t help but feel like I would be out of place, and painfully so.

“Don’t look so excited, Geralt.”

“You weren’t there. You don’t know what happened at the last one.”

I winced and realized that he was right. Although Jaskier had told me some of what happened, I was almost certain that he watered down the events of Pavetta’s betrothal ball in doing so.

The man in question turned to look at me, apparently just now realizing I was awake.

“There you are! Come on, we are losing daylight!”

“Jaskier, do I even really need to come? Geralt is only going to be your body guard, so I don’t really have a purpose.”

“Don’t be silly. You must come! We couldn’t just leave you by yourself for hours at a time. These things do tend to take a while.”

I rolled my eyes and stood, stretching as I did so.

“I am a grown up, you know. I can take care of myself. Afraid I might get kidnapped?”

Jaskier scoffed and continued packing, mostly ignoring my comment. But it was true, I could take care of myself. Geralt had taught me some things with the dagger over the past few weeks, and I felt confident in my abilities.

“Well if I must go, at least be careful with my dress and things. I’m sure Yennefer paid good money for them.”

“The witch probably stole them, more like.”

I watched as Jaskier carefully started packing my things, and tried not to cackle when Geralt made a comment about shoving his foot somewhere it didn’t belong in reference to Jaskier.

Today was going to be quite...something.

Since we had done most of the travelling yesterday, what was left for today didn’t take long. We made it to the castle in no time it seemed.

Lily and Roach were tied up in the stables, in the same stall actually. I was quite happy that the stable master was willing to do that. They always seemed to enjoy each other’s company.

I sat in my borrowed room getting ready, and I was assuming that Geralt and Jaskier were in their own rooms doing the same thing. But that thought was at the back of my mind now as I looked at myself in the mirror. Or at least, what I think was myself. I didn’t really recognize the woman staring back at me.

Yennefer had picked out the most beautiful, elegant, and intricate floor-length ballgown I could ever imagine. It was sleeved as well, with lace adorning them to match the bodice. The skirt was made of layers on layers, it seemed, and with every move I made it swished gently to follow. It was even in my favorite color. I wonder how she knew? I don’t remember telling her...

She had also gotten me some jewelry to match, and the metals and gems complimented my skin tone perfectly. How did she know all this? I had only met her once, and it was very briefly. I would have to thank her for all this later.

Not long after I had finished getting dressed, jeweled, and made up, a knock sounded at my door.

“Come in,” I called.

Jaskier entered in his outfit for the night. It was a dark, silky purple with golden accents along the doublet’s center, and my breath hitched in my throat when I saw him in the reflection of the mirror I sat in front of.

“You look breathtaking, darling,” he said in a whisper as he approached me.

Hopefully he didn’t notice the blush creeping up the sides of my neck. I don’t think I would ever get used to his names for me.

“You don’t look too bad yourself. Compare that to when you fell into the water yesterday and looked like a dying animal, you basically are a different person.”

Jaskier feigned anger, but I could tell he was amused.

“Do you like your clothes? I made sure to tell Yennefer all your favorite colors and shiny things.”

My heart skipped a beat. He had told her all of that? I didn’t even know that he knew those things about me.

I stood before really thinking about what I was doing, and turned to face him, the shock evident on my face.

“You told her all that? I didn’t know that you knew such trivial facts about me...Thank you.”

He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.

“Of course I know. And it was no problem. I had to make sure she didn’t dress you in an unflattering way.”

I tilted my head in thought, almost as a reflex, and it caught his attention.

“What are you thinking about, (Y/N)?” Jaskier asked me quietly with a crooked smile.

“I seem to be thinking about everything and nothing at once...but I am mostly wondering how you convinced the people hosting this ball to let me in. Geralt is your security, of course, I get that. But how did you get me in? I’m no one special.”

He was silent for a moment and stared at a spot past me, for almost so long I didn’t think he would reply. But then he did, with an odd look on his face that showed happiness and some other emotion I didn’t recognize.

“I told them you were my muse. A musician cannot perform without their muse.”

My mouth twitched as if to fall open in shock. but I didn’t let it. I didn’t want him to see how this affected me.

“I’m your what?”

“My muse. You know, inspiration?”

I shook my head furiously, matching the speed at which my heart was beating.

“I know what it means. But why did you tell them that? You couldn’t have come up with a better excuse to get me in here? You didn’t have to lie to them.”

You couldn’t have come up with a better excuse in order to keep me from getting my hopes up?

He looked at me with a smile. But it was a pained smile. Then for a second, it looked like he might speak. Until Geralt passed by the open door way and told Jaskier it was time to go. The crowd was waiting on him.

I stood frozen in the same spot I had been in, and I watched them leave. First Geralt, then Jaskier following behind him. At the last second before leaving the doorway, he stopped, placing a hand on the frame.

Finally he turned to me, and looking over his shoulder, he simply said:

“I didn’t lie.”

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bubblyhoney · 3 years

Text

buncha kisses

warnings: mature language, Good music mention, slight suggestive content, lotta name calling!, basically just fluff

tags: sapnap x fem!reader (a continuation of [renamed from “a collection of moments at the beginning of your relationship”] win for me, basically, with college!au)

words: 1447

A/N: a very sweet anon requested a continuation of college!au with sappy and had some great ideas for me! i love when you guys interact and talk with me pls continue to do so! been receiving a lot of really encouraging attention from some of my favorite people (ahem, for example @strawberrymilkgeorge [among others] <3) so i just wanted to say thanks for that :)

It’s a sticky day in May.

It’s that kind of hot that irritates under the skin and works its way through the hair on your arms. Makes you want to either rip your skin off or sink into a pool full of ice.

May is a month that Florida doesn’t take very well; it’s either raining like it’s the Great Flood, or hot as a mosquito’s ball sack.

And to make matters worse, it’s the due date of a huge calculus project. Like— weighted heavier than the final kind of huge.

You’d gotten up three hours before your final at 9 just to cram. Your desk was littered with folders, chapter notes, and highlighters dull with use. A half-eaten bagel was off to the side, staling by the second.

That was before your AC broke. Yup. Broke. Ka-put. Just full on died—it was almost audible. Your roommate had stumbled into your room, face creased with sleep, and cursed for thirty seconds straight.

Completely understandable, actually.

But you didn’t have time to fret about the damn temperature. You just took your shirt off, kicked the box fan near your bed into the highest gear, and breathed hot anger down into your notes.

The only relief you would find would be lunch with Sapnap after your final. His apartment had air conditioning, and he was surprisingly deft with a knife and cutting board. Dude didn’t know how to figure the mechanics for emailing his film class project to you that one time last semester but could whip up a Greek salad and broiled chicken like no other. Your own little Gordon Ramsey.

He was yours now, officially. As of last month he was yours. A month full of drive-in movies, failed study dates, and an absurd amount of McFlurry’s.

And that’s what is waiting for you in Sapnap’s cup holder when you swing your way into his car with an exasperated look on your face. You just melt, eyes flicking up to his gratefully and silently taking it.

“How was the final?” He lays a hand on the gear shifter and nudges the AC up one more tick. The door closes behind you and you shuffle your legs apart, leg hair tingling in this heat.

“It was fucking brutal. I think I developed an ulcer just looking at the reference page,” you huff and he just shakes his head, laugh hot on his lips. “Absolutely not worth the studying—think I got a good grade, though.”

“Well, that’s cool. I’m proud of you.” The engine chugs to life when he shifts into drive and starts for the side street.

“Thanks.” Your cheeks blush ever so lightly but you pass it off to the heat. A moment passes. “So.” The straw makes a choking noise as it nudges at the bottom of an empty cup. Jesus, you finished that fast. “What’s on the menu for today?” Brandy’s Sunny Day lilts softly into the blasting air as you settle into a comfortable conversation, schoolwork at the back of your mind.

“Thinking of making banana chocolate chip muffins and pigging on those. Thoughts?” Flicking on his left turn signal with his left hand, the right slides onto your knee.

It’s never too hot for that.

“Sounds perfect,” you reply, voice small in a sudden bout of shyness. He double-takes with a smile, squeezing once at your leg.

Pigging is a perfect term for what you two do the second those muffins are out of the oven; it is too easy to shove three of those in a matter of seconds. Bellies full and in a sugar coma, you two lay under the whirring of his living room’s fan and stare up at the ceiling.

“This feels so good,” he mumbles, eyes half-lidded. Reaching a hand out, he pats his way to your hand and takes it, immediately squeezing it. “Wish you were kissing me right now.”

“Oh, yeah?” You taunt and hike a leg up onto his hips, swinging onto his lap and leaning to get your lips near his.

And that’s that.

The night is perfect.

Sapnap ushered you into his car at midnight and within four minutes you were on a US freeway with your head out the window. Like a dog.

A lone bird flies past in the dark air and you watch it swing into a patch of trees. You just close your eyes and breathe.

The stress literally melts. Melts into a puddle and drips out of you, falling onto the black pavement whipping past at a moment’s notice. School is a bitch already, much less an American college education. Grades and tests and professors and GPA’s and all that.

You swear Logan Lerman’s character knew what he was talking about when he said “we were infinite” in The Perks of Being A Wallflower. That’s what this feels like: infinity. Going 70 in a car driven by your hunk of a boyfriend, feeling the wind in your hair and the taste of midnight in between your teeth.

The inside of the car feels sweet when you duck your head back in, smile wide and hair crazy and a content look in your eyes. Sapnap gives you a glance before looking back at the road nonchalantly and lifting to curl and twitch two fingers at you. You instinctively move forward, eyebrows drawn together in curiosity. Three fingers grip your jaw tight, and then his mouth is on yours as the chorus of The King swells through the speakers. You only get two seconds to hum in happiness and slide a hand up his chest before he’s pulling away and has those beautiful eyes back on the road.

“You’re mean to me,” you sigh, and settle back into your seat with a ‘hmph’. He just looks smug. Bastard.

The nights Sapnap plays video games with his friends are—hm. Definitely something. You like to let him have those nights with no distractions most of the time; and you’re categorized as a distraction by the amount of times he “lags” when giving you a kiss or getting you on his lap.

Tonight, he got off work early and on the drive home called and asked if you’d come over and sit with him while he Robloxes with his friends. (“It’s like you can’t go one day without your hands on me,” you’d teased, but he couldn’t say a thing in response. You were right, needless to say.) “You can bring your paints!” he’d even added, knowing you like to watercolor as a hobby. You weren’t necessarily Etsy-worthy but it was fun and a stress-reliever.

And so here you were. Legs crossed, sketch pad in your lap, watching your adult boyfriend yell so loud that his voice cracks and breaks with every change of tone. You really had to remember to apologize to his neighbors…

“Baby—,” Sapnap starts, swinging around in his chair to hit you with a look so pouty his lip was in danger of falling off. “My dear girlfriend. My lovely woman.” His question doesn’t even need to be asked— he wants you to go get him a drink.

“You’re a misogynist. I’m calling NOW on you.” But you’re already heaving yourself off of his mattress and heading into the hallway, faux-annoyed look on your face. It melts into a smile upon seeing that little canvas mounted on the wall next to the door to his bathroom. It was a haphazard portrait of his parent’s dog Bowser that you’d drawn the few days his step-mom forced him to bring you home over spring break.

When you return to his room a few minutes later with a Bang and a couple of snacks for yourself, Sapnap has his headphones off and is swinging his feet in his chair like a child waiting for their parents to pick them up from school. You approach him, apprehensive smile on your face, and hand his drink over.

“Thank you,” he drawls, mid-yawn, and sets it down on the desk. Snaking an arm around your waist, he drags you between his legs and stuffs his face into your shirt. He inhales deeply but pulls away after a pause, hands tight on your abdomen. You press a thumb into his cheek and rub fondly at his facial hair, watching the way his eyes close calmly and relax.

“You’re so cute it causes me physical pain,” is all you get out before leaning and pressing a kiss square on his pink lips. They move against yours like they were meant to, one hand sliding up the material of your shirt and onto your warm skin.

“You smell like Subway,” he murmurs, and then the moment’s over.

Typical.

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. :D let me know what you think in the comments!

#sapnap #mcyt #sapnap x reader #sapnap x fem!reader #sapnap x you #sapnap fluff #sapnap fic #sapnap one shot #sapnap oneshot #mcyt imagine #mcyt x you #bubblyhoneyfics

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storybookstalker · 3 years

Text

. Leona Kingscholar

Main Yandere Type → Possessive | Lucid

☀ Leona is one of the hardest yanderes to attract, he simply can’t bring himself to care about some random herbivore. His darling was either put into a situation where they had to interact with him often, or otherwise are around him on a regular basis. But if they manage to catch his attention? Good luck! Once Leona wants something, he’s willing to actually put some effort in to claim his darling.

☀ How much effort he puts in depends on the darling. He might just ask Ruggie to go and fetch his darling for him; he’s in the mood to sleep on something that’ll massage him while he naps. Huh? They won’t come? Argh, they’re lucky he wants them. Leona will hunt them down himself, but he’s not gonna be nice to them about it. He’ll either forcefully drag them back to his room or just find a shaded area to nap under. They’re not gonna get away from him either way.

☀ Leona knows that they probably don’t feel anything for him, but he doesn’t care. They’re his herbivore, whether they want him or not. He doesn’t care enough to “punish” them, but he’s not afraid to put them in their place. They belong to him, and they better recognize it sooner rather than later; it’s annoying when they try to fight him.

☀ Of course, he does actually want them to feel some affection for him eventually… or at least, it would be nice if they did. He’s gonna keep them around either way, but them loving him would make things easier. Though, there are times where Leona gets angry that they don’t love him. They spend so much time together, is he really so horrible that they can’t bring themselves to care about him? Not that it matters in the end, he guesses.

☼ → “Oi, let’s go nap in the gardens. That wasn’t a question.”

☼ → “Wanna dip? Hah. You’re actually listening to this? I’ll sum it up for you, if it means you’ll come quietly.”

☼ → “Are you trying to annoy me? Keep it up and see where it gets you.”

. Ruggie Bucchi

Main Yandere Type → Stalker | Manipulative

✂ Ruggie isn’t overly expressive of his obsession with darling. He does his best to act normal, if not try and add some charm in. He knows his feelings are nowhere near normal, and he’d hate to scare his precious prey away.

✂ If he wants something, he has to carefully work for it, he’s learned. This extends to his darling! Obsessively stalking, learning more about darling. Who they hang around with, what they find desirable, what they want to do; he’ll do whatever he needs to. They’ll be his, he doesn’t care what he has to do. Afterall, he did so much to ensure Savanaclaw won in Magift, similarly he would go to great lengths to possess his prey.

✂ Ruggie knows he isn’t the most… well, anything really, or at least he feels that way. He can’t just growl like Leona and have them tremble, so if playing up his cute act in front of them gets him attention then you bet he’s gonna be the cutest hyena they know. Ruggie will play up any part of his personality that he knows they like, slowly adding and mixing them into his actual personality. Who knew using his free time to stalk them would end up being so helpful?

✂ While Ruggie desperately wants to monopolize his darling in everything they do, he unfortunately doesn’t have the kind of resources that would require. So he resorts to manipulating them into preferring him over anyone else as much as he can. He’ll just have to make them fall for him, that way he doesn’t have to kidnap them in order to keep them to himself. Which is ultimately what he wants, for his darling to belong to him and only him.

✄ → “I don’t have the time to constantly babysit you, but I wouldn’t mind if you tagged along anyway.”

✄ → “You look so silly right now shishishi! You should really see your face.”

✄ → “Be careful who you trust! Not everyone is as nice as me.”

. Jack Howl

Main Yandere Type → Protective | Possessive

🐺 Jack isn’t the worst yandere to attract! Sure, he might want to break the face of anyone he deems even remotely a threat, but he would never hurt his darling! At least, not in a way they wouldn’t like. Though, he is another hard yandere to attract in the first place. He’s very careful about who he starts to develop feelings for, since wolves have a single partner for life. So he’ll try to push his feelings aside for a little while, only to realize how stressed he is at not knowing if his darling is safe.

🐺 He’s intense, hating when others give them too much attention, or when they give others too much attention. He doesn’t blame his darling, he knows it’s not their fault that some trash is taking up their time. They’re just being distracted, that’s all! He won’t directly ask for attention when he gets jealous like this, at least not at first, but eventually he’ll want it enough that he’ll drag them back to his room (or theirs). He’ll try to hold back though, he doesn’t want to make his darling feel smothered. Yet.

🐺 He’ll start walking his darling to and from their classes, spending as much time with them as they’ll allow him to. Jack comes off as their overprotective guard dog at times (especially to outsiders). He just wants to help as much as he can, with anything really! Need some help studying? Can’t guarantee that he can but he’ll do his best! Need to get someone off your back? Tell him who, darling won’t ever have to worry about it again.

🐺 Jack, although one of the most reluctant yanderes, becomes one of the hardest to shake once he accepts his feelings. His darling will be his. He wants their love over all else, so he’s not likely to kidnap his darling. Not for a long time, at least.

☽ → “Hmph. If you keep coming in late, I might have to start walking you to class. Not that I’m worried, or anything.”

☽ → “It’s too loud and annoying here, I’m going. Did you want to come with me?”

☽ → “Where’s your next class? Do you want to walk together? My next class is around there, too.”

#yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere leona kingscholar #yandere ruggie bucchi #yandere Jack howl #yandere savanaclaw #yandere dorm leaders #yandere first years #yandere Leona #yandere Ruggie #Yandere Jack #yandere writing #yandere #yandere video game

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mandoalorian · 4 years

Text

Jealousy [Din Djarin x F! Reader x Cobb Vanth] Smut

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE MANDALORIAN SEASON 2: EPISODE 1

Summary: You and the Mandalorian find yourself in Mos Pelgo, a bandit infiltrated part of Tatooine in search for a Mandalorian. Instead, you and Mando both welcome yourself into the only cantina and meet Cobb Vanth, the attractive and highly esteemed marshal of Mos Pelgo. You and Cobb Vanth find yourself in negotiations in order to get the Mandalorian armour he possesses, and Cobb strikes you a deal which you just can't refuse.

Word count: 3.5k

Rating: 18+ only

Warnings: Smut, threesome (Din Djarin x female reader x Cobb Vanth, slight degradation, oral (m and f receiving) unprotected p in v, possessive Din and Din being a little bit of a sweetheart if you squint.

Author's note: I will be writing a part two next Friday, based around the events of season two episode two! If you would like to be tagged in upcoming parts please just let me know!

Update: Have you seen the second episode of season two yet? Here is a follow up chapter to this— based around the events of chapter 10! No Cobb Vanth unfortunately, but enjoy some Din x Reader, pleasuring each other in the hot springs of that ice planet. You can read that HERE.

MASTERLIST | SUBMIT REQUEST

"I want you to wait with the Crest." The Mandalorian bounty hunter instructed you, his voice gruff. You passed him his satchel containing his child and he swung it over his shoulder. The child cooed once he was back in the arms of his father.

"No, Din. I'm coming with you." You insisted, pressing your hand into his chest. The usual cold Beskar armour was burning under the Tatooine heat.

"Cyar'ika, you heard Peli, Mos Pelgo is no place for someone like you." Din shook his head and made himself comfortable on the landspeeder.

You dropped a hand to your hip and tilted your head. "Someone like me?" you raised an eyebrow. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

The Mandalorian turned on the ignition and raised his gloved hand to your jaw, brushing his thumb over your chin and tilting your head so he could get a look at your face. "Someone as… beautiful as you," Din lulled and you felt your heart freeze at his unprompted kindness. "If Peli is correct, and Mos Pelgo is a bandit hive, they'll eat you right up. I don't want anything to happen to you. If you stay here with Peli and the ship— you'll be safe."

"But you're taking the child." You pointed out and the little green gem poked his ears out of Din's satchel, his big eyes sparkling.

"Wherever I go, he goes." Din said simply.

"Yeah?" You sighed and clambered on to the back of Din's landspeeder. You wrapped your arms around the Mandalorian bounty hunter tightly and you heard a sigh puff out from under his helmet. "And wherever you go, I go."

The Mandalorian hesitated for a moment but he knew better than to argue with you. "Hold on tight." he instructed and you nodded your head obediently. With a few clicks of the exhaust, you, The Mandalorian and his child were off speeding across the sand dunes of Tatooine.

The Mandalorian opted to leave the child with the speeder, knowing that if something were to happen, the child would be more than capable of defending himself. You and Din made your way to the cantina which wasn't too far as it seemed like the town was only small anyway. Much like the desert that surrounded you, the cantina was desolate, not a soul in sight.

When the bartender, a rather older looking man of a different species, caught his eye on the Mandalorian, he stiffened up completely. You and Din graced the bar and you offered the bartender a kind smile.

"Can I help you?" He asked, unsurity in his voice.

"We're looking for a Mandalorian." You told him, your voice soft and gentle. You didn't want him to get the wrong idea. If the town was bandit ridden, it was likely he may be scared by your presence.

"Well we don't get many visitors around here." The bartender admitted. "Could you tell me what they look like?"

"They look like me." Din replied, his voice rasp through his modulator.

"The marshal…" The bartender started, tilting his head to the side and analysing Din's armour. It shone just a little under the dim bar light. "He dresses like you."

"He's a Mandalorian?" Din asked, curiosity peaking in his voice.

"You tell me." The bartender replied, taking a step back as the Mos Pelgo's marshal entered the bar. You and Din both turned around, taking in the sight of the Mandalorian.

He looked a lot different to Din. You noted his smaller frame and his crimson red shirt underneath a choice of green armour and shoulderpads. It was covered in scratches and dents from battle, you presumed. Din didn't say a word, but you noticed his hand drop to his holster, fingers tracing his blaster pistol as the marshal got closer. He wore a helmet similar to Din's, but it was again, green, matching the chest plate he wore. You felt yourself go cold when you noticed his jet pack — or, what you had come to know as The Rising Phoenix, something Din had only just come into use with.

"I've been searching for you for many parsecs." Din was the first to break the silence. You had never seen another Mandalorian before, and whilst you trusted Din, you knew how dangerous they could be. Especially if this one was also a bounty hunter. Of course, you weren't sure. You gulped and slowly entangled your fingers with Din's. He gave your hand a comforting squeeze.

"Two sniffs of spotchka!" The marshal shouted. "And would the pretty lady like anything?" His voice lowered and a smirk swept across his lips as he approached you smoothly.

"She's good." Din snapped back, his hand tightening around yours. You felt your cheeks heat up under his touch and the way he got so protective over you. The marshal shrugged his shoulders and sat at a table, gesturing for you and the Mandalorian to sit with him. Still hand in hand, you and the Mandalorian both reluctantly sat with the marshal. The bartender brought the drinks over.

It was a vibrant blue drink, steaming. You knew Din wouldn't be able to have it anyway and you wondered how this other Mandalorian could possibly drink it. As far as you were concerned, Mandalorians couldn't remove their helmet. It was forbidden.

But the marshal did. He sat the green helmet down on the table and took a sip of spotchka. You felt Din tense up.

"You know," the marshal hummed, licking the blue liquid from his lips. There was almost something erotic about it. You couldn't help but squirm a little as you saw his tongue glide over, devouring and savouring the taste. "I've never seen a real Mandalorian before."

"Who are you?" Din countered. He moved his hand over your thigh under the table and gave you a gentle squeeze. It was always like Din to assert his dominance over you.

"I'm Cobb Vanth," the marshal introduced himself with another sly smirk. Although he was talking to Din, he was looking at you the entire time. "Marshal of Mos Pelgo."

"That armour— where did you get it?" Din's fingers clenched into a fist and you swore you could feel his nails dig into your thighs despite the gloves that he wore.

"Jawas sold it to me." Cobb replied nonchalantely with a shrug of his shoulders.

"I need it." Din said, his voice as stern as ever. You felt your stomach erupt into nervous butterflies. Under Din's touch and Cobb's gaze, you felt a heat resonate in-between your legs.

"No can do, Mando." Cobb chuckled, crinkles appearing by his blue eyes.

"I need the armour." Din repeated without question and you could feel the frustration pent up inside him. You soothed him gently, tracing small circles in his leg.

"Hmph," Cobb nodded, taking a final sip of his spotchka before raising to his feet. "Can we have some privacy?" He asked the bartender. The bartender nodded and sauntered off. "As you can see, I practically rule this town. Maybe I be kind and come to a negotiation with you."

"I don't do negotiations." Din growled and you stood up.

"What do you have in mind?" you asked Cobb, fluttering your eyelashes.

Cobb grunted and walked around the table. He raised his hand and cupped your face gently, stroking your cheek. You swallowed down the lump in your throat. Din rose to his feet and took your hand again.

"I give your boyfriend the armour if you, my dear, help me out." Cobb smirked. "As you know, we don't get many visitors around here. No Mandalorians and especially no fine women like yourself. I mean- are you from the moons of Iego? Your beauty is comparable to an angel."

Din scoffed at Cobb's flirtatious attempt but you felt your cheeks heat up again. You noticed that the ocean blue of Cobb's eyes were barely visible now that his pupils were so dilated. You wondered if the spotchka had been laced with spice. But then something was brought to your attention.

"As you can see, darlin', I seem to have encountered a problem." Cobb announced and he dipped his hand down to his crotch. You gasped as he ran his fingers over his length which was throbbing under his pants.

"Not a chance." Din raised his voice and pointed a finger at Cobb, dragging you away from him.

"Din," you shuffled out of the Mandalorian's grip. "Din please." you said and he finally let go off your arm.

"I can kill him," Din hissed. "You don't need to do this."

"No," you shook your head. "No killing. Din…" you let your fingers trace the curves of his helmet, wishing just for once you could look into his eyes. You didn't want to hurt him, but you wanted to help him. If Din was going to get the armour, you wanted to be the one responsible. Maybe then he would trust you enough to accompany him on more missions around the galaxy. "I want to." you whispered.

"What?" Din asked, his voice dropping an octave.

You turned around looking back at Cobb who was already touching himself through the thin material covering his bulge. "I want to help you get the armour," you told Din. "I'm wet." you admitted, your voice soft and sultry and Din felt his muscles tense up.

"Then-" the Mandalorian croaked out and you gave him a warm smile. He composed himself. "Then I kill him, we strip his body of the armour and I fuck you when we get back to the ship." Din felt himself begin to harden. His vision became hazy at your words and he struggled to focus just knowing that you were standing right next to him.

"I need a release," you moaned gently. "And I need it now."

Cobb approached you and the Mandalorian once more. "So? Have you made your mind up? Or do I have to pleasure myself."

"I'll do it," you told Cobb. "If Mando does it with me."

You had never had a threesome before and you didn't know what exactly to expect, but you believed that as long Din was there, he would protect you.

You turned back to the Mandalorian, eyeing up his bulge. "If you don't want to Din," you whispered. "That's okay. But I have this under control."

"Cya're," Din groaned. "Always so stubborn. Fuck....You're mine." He growled.

You smiled wickedly. "Show me I'm yours then." you told him and began undressing yourself, shamelessly, standing in between the two men.

You started with your cape, slowly unhooking it and letting it fall to the ground in a pool of fabric. The lack of material exposed your chest and Cobb noticed the way your corset pushed your breasts up. "May I?" he asked and you nodded as he walked over to you. He began pressing sloppy kisses down your neck and across your breasts, nibbling at the skin. He wanted to leave his mark on you. You knew Din wouldn't like that.

Din came up from behind you and wrapped his strong arms around your waist. You gasped, being taken by surprise and you let a sweet moan escape your mouth as the two men touched you. Din was holding you tight as Cobb bit at you softly. His greying beard tickled you and you imagined how his tongue would feel lapping at your clit. It felt like heaven.

After a few minutes, Cobb pulled away and examined the purple marks he had left all over your delicate skin. Cobb began to remove his clothing and as he did so, Din untied your tunic and let it slip down your body. He tugged down your soaked panties and let them pool around your ankles before you stepped out of them. "Fuck, you're bad." Din cursed and spanked your bare ass with his gloved hand. You yelped and rolled your head back into his shoulder as he undone the ribbon that held your corset up. Once he discarded that, you found yourself standing in the middle of Mos Pelgo's only cantina completely naked in between two very attractive men.

Cobb began rubbing his manhood with one hand and massaging his balls with another. You and Din watched him as he masturbated himself. Light hair grazed his chest and you couldn't help but lick your lips as the precum began to bead at his pink tip.

"You like what you see?" Cobb asked as he continued to jerk himself off. Still standing behind you, the Mandalorian wrapped his arms around your naked body and began squeezing your breasts. He ran his gloved fingers over your nipples and you hissed at the sensation. He rested his head into the crook of your neck, the coolness of his helmet making a shiver run down your spine. Every now and again, Din would pinch your nipples. You closed your eyes in ecstasy as he worked his hands around your body knowing exactly how to please you.

"Please," you moaned, shuffling out of Din's release and falling to your knees. You crawled over to Cobb, making sure to stick your ass out and spread your legs out so Din could get a good look of your behind. Through his visor, Din saw the way your folds glistened from your wetness. You heard him grunt through the modulator of his helmet and knowing you were gaining a reaction out of the Mandalorian— only made you wetter. "Let me help you." you smiled at Cobb softly, taking his cock out of his hands and gliding your tongue over his length.

He was big— not quite as thick as Din— but still big. You looked up at him doe-eyed before taking the tip in his mouth and slowly beginning to suck. The moans that escaped Cobb's lips were delightful, and whilst you couldn't fit him entirely into your mouth, you spat into the palms of your hand and began pumping the girth that you could not wrap your lips around. When you began to feel his dick twitch in your mouth, you pulled away.

"Your turn," you smiled towards the Mandalorian who sauntered over you. You jumped up on the bar and spread your legs.

"I can't," Din whispered. "I want- I want to taste you. But not with him here."

"Hey it's alright," you cooed. You curled a finger and gestured Cobb to come over. "You can taste me when we get back to the Crest. But right now? I want to touch you." You hummed, sliding your hand down the waistband of the Mandalorian's pants and already pulling out his hard cock. You swiped the pad of your thumb over his wet tip and felt him throb in your hand. Pulling your hand off him for a second, you began to suck his precum off your fingers, eyes closing as you savoured the delicious salty taste.

Cobb clambered on to the bar with you and settled himself in between your legs. He held himself up on his elbows and licked a stripe over your glistening clit. Your hand tightened around Din's cock and you gave it another gentle squeeze as Cobb licked you again.

Cobb stopped, abruptly, and you furrowed your eyebrows together in confusion. After a few short moments, you felt the tip off Cobb's cock rub teasingly against your folds and you gasped.

"No." Din growled, unable to contain his jealousy. Cobb looked up in annoyance at the masked bounty hunter.

"What?" Cobb spat, ignoring Din's comment and continuing to rub his cock over your bundle of nerves.

"No." Din repeated and tucked his hard cock back into his pants. "She's mine." You closed your legs and shuffled away from Cobb and closer to Din. Din wrapped an arm around your waist and helped you down to your feet. "You understand? You're mine." he whispered darkly into your ear and you nodded. He let you go and you picked up your tunic from the floor, pulling it over your head before sliding your feet into your sandals.

"You didn't let me finish." Cobb growled as he stroked himself, cheeks turning red in a mixture of rage and embarrassment.

"You heard the Mandalorian," you smirked as Din picked up Cobb's discarded armour. Feeling just an edge of guilt, you picked up your damp panties from the floor. There was no point in keeping them now— they had been completely ruined by your own arousal. "Take these." you smiled politely and handed Cobb your scrunched up underwear.

Cobb snatched it out of your hand and gave them a sniff before grunting. He let his finger slicken with your wetness from your panties and continued pumping at his cock, turning away from you and slouching in one of the many unoccupied seats in the bar as he continued masturbating. With Cobb's eyes shut, you and Din managed to slip out of the bar unnoticed.

You and the Mandalorian continued walking down the valley until just before you reached the speeder. "Are we going back to the ship? I wanna finish." you admitted, clenching your thighs together.

"It would take too long to get back to the ship," Din muttered. "We finish here." his voice was dark and rasp.

"Here?" you asked, looking around at the deserted sand dunes. "But where?" Din took your hand and pulled you around a corner before pressing you against a stone wall.

"I will taste you when we get back to the ship," he promised, letting his hands roam your body. He pulled off his gloves and shoved them into his pocket and slid his hands under your tunic. "I hated watching him touch you. When I said you're mine, I meant it."

You loved feeling his bare hands on you and you savoured every moment of his touch.

"I know Din," you moaned. You dipped your hand back into his pants and pulled out his cock, breathing a sigh of relief when you felt he was still hard. "I'm yours and yours only." you told him and stood on your tip-toes, resting your forehead against his helmet. You started pumping him again but not for long.

"Jump." Din commanded, gaining a firm grip of your waist.

"Huh?" you asked. Din stayed silent and it took you a second to understand what exactly he wanted from you. "Oh." You placed your hands on his shoulders and jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Your back was pressed against the stone wall and you let out a huff as Din pushed his length inside of you. In one slick movement, he was balls deep and you yelped at the contact. He paused, staying inside of you and letting your body adjust to his length. You felt every vein and every edge of him and the sensation made your toes curl in pure bliss.

"Move," you begged; voice just above a whisper. Din obliged and slowly began to thrust inside of you, his cock convulsing at the friction as your walls tightened around you.

"I won't last long," Din groaned, his big hands still holding you tight.

"That's okay," you whimpered as his hips continued to press into yours. "Take what you need. I want you to cum inside of me."

"Fuck, cya're," Din grunted and you began to feel his cock twitch inside of you. "Are you sure?"

"Please." you begged.

With only a few more heaving thrusts, you felt the Mandalorian's warmth explode inside of you as he planted his seed. You gasped as your dripping cunt clenched around him, milking him of every last drop. Hearing his groans and grunts of satisfaction through his modulator was always so delightful. He kept you steady against the wall as he softened inside of you, eventually pulling out his sensitive cock and tucking himself back in.

He always handled you delicately. He helped you down from the wall and adjusted your tunic so you were all covered up. You laced your fingers in his once again as you headed back to the ship. "Thank you Din." you whispered sweetly. "Did you have fun?"

"I must admit, I've never had an experience quite like that before," Din grumbled. "When we get back to the ship, I'll set nav-course to the next system." Din explained as he took position onto the speeder bike. You clambered on behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

"Soo, will you let me accompany you on your next mission?" You poked his side slightly in a teasing manner and you heard the bounty hunter chuckle.

"We'll see." he replied.

You couldn't tell, but the Mandalorian was smiling under his helmet. You held on to him tightly as your little clan of three sped off into the sunset.

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #din djarin smut #cobb vanth #the mandalorian #the mandalorian season 2 #the mandalorian season 2 spoilers

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pleathewrites · 3 years

Text

boys, boys, boys

chapter 2: revelations

Summary: Does Iwaizumi have a thing for setters or do setters have a thing for Iwaizumi?

“Maybe Iwa-kun does have a thing for grey hair,” Sugawara muses, the tip of his index finger circling the rim of his drink. He’s got that signature sly smirk across the very lips that locked with Hajime's a decade ago.

“Oh my God.”

Hajime is seriously considering begging Oikawa to jump-serve a volleyball to his head and knock him clean out just so they can all stop having this conversation - ‘Hell, Tooru’s strong as hell now. Might knock the entire memory of this night right out of my brain, for good.’

“Hey, I just made out with him - and possibly gave him his gay awakening. But I wasn’t the one who convinced him to change his career.”

“Oh my God.”

“Wait, what are you - ”

“Daichi, baby, seriously, you need to go see that doctor. I am actively concerned about you developing early-onset Alzheimer's," Sugawara says, tucking a strand of Sawamura's hair behind his ear, his impish smirk melting into a fond smile, "Does Shiratorizawa ring any bells?”

“Hey, I have my own life to worry about! I’m not gonna keep track of someone else’s love life - no offense, Iwaizumi-san.”

“Hey, non-taken. Please, never think about my love life.”

Much to Hajime’s horror, Daichi’s expression turns contemplative, “Wait, actually, though -”

“Fuck -”

“… Grey hair, Shiratorizawa...” Daichi snaps his fingers and points his index at Iwaizumi with a much-too-proud smile on his face, completely unaware of the man’s rising irritation. “Yes, right! Iwaizumi, didn’t you..?”

“Ugh, God, that one,” injects Oikawa.

Hajime feels the vein on his forehead throb at Oikawa’s tone, “Kawa... why are you so shitty.”

“Well, sorry, if I don’t like the edge-lord that busted my entire future!”

“Oikawa… You are literally at the Olympics… for the second time...”

“Yeah, with you on the opposing side,” Oikawa says with a closed throat, sliding out of the booth, and heading off to the direction of the entrance doors.

Hajime sighs.

Their loss to Shiratorizawa is soul-crushing - it always is.

‘Always’ - that’s the most crushing thing, Hajime despairs, ‘We always lose to that school.’ And Hajime feels the blow, of course, he's devastated, but it’s not personal, hell, it’s not even for his team - ‘God, I’m such a shitty Vice-Captain.’

No, the absolute heartbreak he feels is for Tooru.

Hajime loves his team, he believes every single member has outrageous talent, but he knows that all their abilities combined, including his own, wouldn’t even hold a candle to Oikawa’s blinding torch.

Shiratorizawa is a school for rising champions, Abo Johsai is a school for kids with talent.

Oikawa Tooru is on a completely different level, it's a fact - he outranks his own team. It keeps Hajime up at night because he knows that if Oikawa had a team that matched his talent and ability, he would never have to experience such consistent defeat.

In times like these, Hajime feels shameful and useless, ‘How long will I hold Oikawa back?’

Hajime knows Oikawa. He knows he’s the real reason Oikawa chose Abo Josai, that because Hajime wasn’t good enough to get into Shiratorizawa, Oikawa shackled himself to a team that weighs more than he can carry. It reminds Hajime of those free-body-diagrams from physics class that Oikawa had to explain to him ten times over; Oikawa is the upward force, striving for victory at the speed of light, Hajime is the opposing frictional force, and Abo Johsai is plain gravity times mass times sine (or was it cosine?). Hajime only managed to scrape a B- in that class, so the only answer he can give this problem is that Oikawa isn't going anywhere, any time soon.

A harsh slap to his back snaps Hajime out of his thoughts. He jumps with the force of it and doesn’t even have to turn his head to know who’s hand is laying firmly between his shoulder blades. He keeps his eyes downcast, but Oikawa - a true Captain - doesn’t force Hajime to look at him when he firmly whispers, “Next time, Iwa-chan. We’ll get ‘em.”

Their coach takes the team for ramen, gives them a speech about being proud and working hard, all while Oikawa is making faces at Hajime from across the table and, slowly, Hajime begins to let himself smile.

Halfway through dinner, Hajime feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. Thinking it’s his mother asking when he’ll be home, Hajime turns on the lockscreen and sees it’s an Instagram notification. He unlocks his phone and swipes down his Notifications - Hajime had to reset his phone notifications to conceal messages ever since becoming friends with Sugawara Koushi because the boy has zero filter and he doesn’t need his mom accidentally seeing messages with eggplant and squirting emojis, encouraging Hajime to make ‘his move’, whatever that means.

EITA (@notsemisemi) has requested to follow you.

Now, Hajime is confused. He doesn’t even remember the last time he posted a picture on Instagram - he only really made the account because Oikawa started crying about, “Iwa-chan, I want to tag you in this picture, people should know that you’re capable of smiling! Everyone else has an Instagram, let me make you one, you won’t even have to do anything!” - so he’s not really sure how or why a random person requested to follow him.

'Maybe it's a spam account?'

He looks closely at the username and tries to think if he knows anyone with that name. When nothing comes to mind, he clicks on the person’s account and is met with very aesthetically angsty selfies of a grey-haired boy with sharp eyebrows and deep collarbones. ‘

He’s kind of…’ Hajime tries to think of the right words. He wants to say ‘pretty’, but that doesn’t feel right - Sugawara is pretty, Oikawa is pretty. Pretty people are soft and round and peppy. This guy is…

‘Hot.’

And weirdly familiar.

He elbows Matsukawa, who’s sitting on his right, and turns his phone screen towards the boy, “Do you know this guy?”

“Hmph?” Matsukawa’s lazy eyes roam over his screen and he swallows his food before speaking, “Yeah, isn’t that the reserve setter? He came in as a sub when Oikawa hit Shiratorizawa’s main setter.”

Like a self-conscious self-absorbed bat, whenever Oikawa’s name is merely uttered, the boy in question will hear it, no matter what he's doing, “Eh? Oikawa hit who? I swear, it couldn't have been me, I’m a pacifist!” And he proceeds to put his hands up in surrender.

The lightbulb goes off in Hajime's head, “Oh! When Oikawa jump-served the ball at that small guy’s face? With the uneven bangs?” He makes a downward sloping motion across his forehead.

“Yeah, that one,” Matsukawa points to the phone screen, “Pretty sure that’s the guy who subbed for the rest of the set.”

“Yeah…” Hajime trails, before adding softly, “He was good… Wonder why their coach didn't give him more playtime.”

Oikawa’s quick-clapping hands bring Hajime out of his thoughts, “Oh! I know what we’re talking about now! First off, I didn’t hit Shorty, he wasn’t fast enough, that’s the consequence of the game! Also, why are we talking about this?”

“Iwaizumi is on the sub’s Instagram page.”

Oikawa squeaks, “Is this about your grey-hair-slash-old-man fetish?!”

Hajime groans and facepalms, “No, oh my God, stop telling people I have a fetish, Shittykawa! He followed me.”

“Block him!”

Hajime sighs, locks his phone, and puts it away, “Just forget it.”

“Hmph. That guy’s not even first string. What does he want with our ace?”

Hanamaki joins in, “I wonder why he’s not first string, though. I’m pretty sure he’s a third year, he’s been there every time we played against them. 'M pretty sure that Shorty is definitely a second year.”

Oikawa’s face turns from snooty to serious and he crosses his arms, “He’s good, but he lacks instinct. His technique is fine, but he doesn’t have what Shorty does. Maybe if he worked harder, but from the looks of it tonight, he doesn’t want it bad enough. He’s not on Shiratorizawa’s level - maybe he was once, but not anymore.”

'Not on Shiratorizawa’s level… Sounds like we might have something in common, after all.’

That night, before Hajime goes to sleep, he accepts EITA’s follow request and follows him back.

continue to read chapter

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writing-gifts · 3 years

Text

part 9 of the incubus!doppio au aka we'll make it work

its been a long while since the last update so super brief recap: reader found a frog transformed gio in the forest and is currently on their way to one of his relatives to reverse it!

AO3 Link

List of parts

tag list: @wasabi-mommy @mistabrainr0t @the-average-mastermind @risottosplug @ohohimhere @ppribcess-br1 @greatpostunknown @cremaopinios

------

You gather your few belongings while Doppio readies himself in the bathroom. Once he was finished all of you would be heading straight for the train station. Abbaccchio watches you from the bed like cats tend to. However, the end of his tail twitches back and forth signaling that he’s agitated about something.

You zip up your bag and smirk. “You’re already annoyed and the day just started.”

“Hmph, I’m not exactly looking forward to hiding in your bag again,” he says.

“Oh please. You can get out as soon as we're outside and then it's 5 minutes tops when we get to the station. You’ll be okay.”

You move your backpack next to the dresser where Giorno still sits content in his container of water. You'd clean that up right before leaving so he could get as much moisture as possible.

“About last night--” Abbacchio starts.

Giorno opens an eye at that, but you barely react because of course he knows. You and Doppio weren't exactly being very quiet. You had just thought the cat wasn't interested in bringing it up (and you preferred it that way), but would he really be Abbacchio if he didn’t?

“Doppio has it under control so can we not argue about the same thing again?” You ask without looking back at him, though it was more of a plea than a question.

Before the feline can dissent, Doppio exits the bathroom. His hair is done up, though a few strands stick out from his braid.

You quickly switch your focus over to him. “Ready to head out?”

He moves a piece of hair out of his face. “Uh huh.”

“Okay, let me just get Giorno.”

After you move the frog out of his container and into your jacket pocket, you quickly clean up his makeshift “pond” and herd everyone out of the room. The walk from the hotel to the station doesn't take too long though you're very hungry by the time you arrive. You didn't have time to eat a full meal beforehand, but fortunately you packed snacks.

You chew on a granola bar on the train. You try to be careful but stray crumbs litter your lap. “You sure you don't want any?” you ask Doppio. He sits next to you, staring outside the train window at the passing landscape.

Your friend shakes his head. “I'm not hungry.”

You continue snacking on the sugary bar before speaking again. "Do you even need to eat food? You said you don't need sex and I’ve obviously seen you eat, but how does it exactly work?

Doppio leans back in his seat and places his hands in his lap. “Both sex and food give me energy, but the energy from food doesn't last long. I could overfill myself and be hungry 2 hours later. And food doesn't help with sleepiness either so I need to actually go to bed. Sex cures both and lasts longer.”

The explanation was clear and concise. He must have explained it many times before. You purse your lips still confused though. You had sometimes seen Doppio go most of the day without food so things weren’t adding up...Unless he was still having sex sometimes?

“...But the last time you ate was yesterday?”

"Yea but recently I've had energy that seems to come out of nowhere. I even feel fully rested though I wasn't able to get back to sleep last night.”

“That’s strange. Do you remember when you got these boosts of energy?”

He thinks for a moment. “...They were a while ago, so other than yesterday and right now, not really.”

“Yesterday?”

“After we got off the train and were walking to that fast food place. I still felt exhausted but it was definitely way better than before."

He did seem more awake and less irritable after you had finished eating, but other than the food you didn't know what had helped.

"Well try to keep it in mind. There's most likely a connection,” you say.

You finish up your bar and put the wrapper in one of your backpack's pockets, jostling Abbacchio in the process. You ignore his displeased grumbles and continue speaking to Doppio. “You know you're very different from what I’ve read about incubi. Like with how all this energy stuff works...Is this how it is for all incubi and succubi?”

“Most likely not.” He pauses and starts to jiggle his leg. “‘Er...I’m actually only part incubus.”

Your brows raise. “Wait really?”

“I'm half human, half incubus. It's just easier to say I'm an incubus though with how I was raised.”

That has you reconsidering many things, especially about Diavolo. He wasn't a demon possessing a demon, he was a demon possessing a half human! You need to tell Bruno this as soon as you get back.

------

Early afternoon your group reaches its destination. You and Doppio walk outside of the station into the fresh air. The sun shines down directly on you but luckily it isn't unbearably hot. A distance from where you both stand is a gravely road cutting through the unruly grass.

Once you get far enough away from the small group of people leaving the station, you let Abbacchio out of your bag and move Giorno out of your pocket and onto your shoulder. You then pull out your phone and open your GPS to get directions to the farm.

It’s an hour and half of walking along the road and taking breaks under the shade of the sparse trees before a small house in the midst of a field comes into view. There’s also a barn not too far away.

You plan to go up to the house and knock on the door, but part way there a man calls out a greeting to your group from a fenced area filled with chickens. His size is almost intimidating but his face is kind. He seems to be in his mid to late 50s but looks very fit. He jogs up to your group before glancing at Abbacchio who is sitting a small distance behind you. He then raises a brow at you most likely due to the amphibian on your shoulder.

"I don’t believe I’ve seen you lot before, but what can I do for you today?" the man asks. You notice his light English accent.

"Are you Jonathan Joestar?” you ask.

“Yes, that's me.”

You glance at Giorno and move the shoulder he sits on forward. "Okay this’ll sound crazy, but this is your nephew and he was turned into a frog."

Giorno readjusts his position and looks up at Jonathan. "Uncle it's me Giorno. I ran away from home."

The man's brow furrows and he steps back involuntarily. "Giorno? What happened to you?”

“I'll explain later. I need you to change me back first.”

He collects himself (as best as he can) and nods. "How do I do that exactly?"

“He needs a kiss from royalty,” you say. “Like the story but it doesn't have to be a princess or prince.”

Jonathan rubs the back of his neck. “But I'm no longer royalty.”

“That's fine, the person just had to be at some point. I don't know how it works but Bru--the witch told us it would still count,” you say.

“Well if it’ll help Giogio then there’s no point asking any more questions.”

You let Giorno climb onto your palm and pass him over to Jonathan. The farmer lifts Giorno up with both hands and places a kiss on his small froggy head.

Before you can really take in the silly scene, Giorno begins to glow. A glow that increases in intensity to the point that it feels like looking at the sun. He jumps off Jonathan’s hand just as his body starts to take a different form and size. For a moment there’s a lull and then suddenly a firework of sparks shoots off him. Everyone around him shuts their eyes.

When you open your own, the sparkles are gone and their place is a well dressed young man with immaculate styled blond hair flowing part way down his back. He looked laughably high class next to the rest of you.

You’re still taken aback by the display of magic you had just bared witness to and end up wordlessly gaping for several seconds before you can properly speak again.

“I-I did not expect you to look like that!”

Giorno looks at you, unbothered by your inappropriate outburst. “What did you think I'd look like?”

“Um I don't know, but the blonde hair wasn't there...”

Unlike you, Doppio and Jonathan look mostly unaffected by Giorno’s transformation.

Jonathan gives the blonde a relieved smile. “Erina is going to be so happy to see you, Giogio. It’s been so long since your last visit.”

“I would visit more often but you know how Father is.”

Jonathan's smile becomes forlorn. “Yes, unfortunately.” He turns towards you and Doppio. “Thank you for bringing Giorno here.”

Unsure of how else to respond, you smile and accept the thanks.

Doppio doesn't verbally reply but also smiles.

“Can I get your names?”

“I'm _____ and this is my friend Doppio.” You point over your shoulder. “And Abbacchio is the cat that's following us. He’s the witch’s...pet.”

Doppio gives his own greeting and Abbacchio continues to stare silently.

“What an interesting group,” Jonathan says most likely in reaction to Abbacchio.

“_____ found me in the forest and convinced the witch to reveal how to reverse it. Then they made a 2 day trip to get here.” Giorno looks at you, his smile kind and genuine. “Thank you.”

“Oh you're welcome. It's no problem really...” Your statement feels unfinished as you had started it but didn’t know where it was going.

“It means a lot to me though. Who knows where I’d be right now if you hadn't found me in the forest.”

You can feel yourself grinning way too hard. So much praise could be overwhelming at times. In an attempt to try to force it down you look elsewhere and end up locking eyes with Doppio. He looks like he wants to say something but he just turns away instead.

“Well now that that is taken care of, why don't we all head inside,” Jonathan suggests. “I’m sure you're all tired from traveling here so you can stay as long as you need.”

“Just the night is fine. I have work on Monday so we need to head back early in the morning.” You hadn't really thought about work the whole way here, but now that you did, it has you wanting to stay longer.

“That’s too bad. The least I can do is ask a friend to drive you to the train station in the morning so you don't have to walk back.”

“That would be great, thank you!”

-----

As typical for you, you lay wide awake.

When you first hit the bed the dregs of your energy seeped out of you and you were out cold. Unfortunately you had woken up randomly a few hours later and couldn't get back to sleep. Abbacchio had even run off when you wouldn’t stop moving around to get comfortable again.

You get out of bed to leave the guest room and make your way quietly to the living room.

Doppio lays asleep on the sofa. You tiptoe towards him and gently poke his freckled nose. It immediately twitches before he rolls on his side to face the back of the couch. You hold back a giggle and instead gently shake him awake. He grumbles before laying on his back again.

His eyes open a sliver, but it takes a moment for him to process your presence. “....____? What’s wrong?”

“I can't sleep. Soooo I was thinking: Why not invite Doppio?”

The incubus doesn't get flustered like you expect. “Huh--Invite where?”

“Do you want to share the bed again?” you ask more clearly.

His stutters bring a pleased look to your face, but eventually he manages to answer.

“Um okay.”

He gets up with his blanket and pillow and follows you to the guest room. The lamp light in the room reveals Doppio's flushed face. You then both get into bed, Doppio a bit awkwardly but it’s a much bigger improvement from the hotel. Once he lays next to you, you tell him to turn around. He nods and lays on his side, his back facing you. You throw your arm over him before settling up close behind him. The hair that sticks out of his messy bun tickles your face.

“Woah, your hair smells really nice!”

Doppio smiles to himself. “I’m trying this new shampoo…”

Even though you still weren’t sure what to do about your feelings, you did know that you wouldn't mind being able to do stuff like this more often.

------

You hadn't had breakfast yet since Erina insisted on feeding all of you. She let you know that the food was usually ready around the time Jonathan finished his morning chores. So you decide to wait outside while Doppio gets ready. It was going to take awhile for him to finish styling his hair in that complicated braid he usually wore.

You gently sway back and forth on the porch swing while watching Giorno help his uncle tend to some of the cows. They’re too far away for you to hear their conversation but they seem to be enjoying their time together. Abbacchio lays curled up next to you sleeping. You wonder what cat things he had gotten up to last night since he didn't return to your room.

Half an hour later, you’re all inside eating. Doppio didn't want to, but Erina wasn’t having any of it so the incubus tries to eat enough that it looks convincing. The incubus appears well rested so you assume he must have gotten good sleep, but maybe the surge of energy was happening again. You’ll have to ask him about it later.

After a delicious fry-up and nice conversation that you and Doppio mostly listen in on, you start preparing for the trip back home.

“Giogio you have everything?” Erina asks.

“Yes aunty,” Giorno replies.

“Ah I still can’t believe how much you've grown since I've last seen you. I'm sorry we couldn't be around more often and I really wish you could stay.” There’s an underlying sadness in her voice.

“It's not your fault...”

You and Doppio sit together in the living room waiting patiently for your ride. The walls are thin so the two of you are unintentional auditors of the conversation taking place in the dining room. Either way you thought it was nice how Giorno’s aunt and uncle were so caring of him.

Before the family can join you and Doppio, ringing sounds from the kitchen. You hear the phone being answered and a moment later everyone walks into the living room.

“Speedwagon's outside,” Jonathan informs you.

Giorno picks up the bag full of items his family had packed for him--food, a phone, and hygiene items along with some clothing that was quickly bought yesterday--before walking outside. Doppio follows out next with his own stuff.

You’re about to yell out for Abbacchio since he hadn’t been waiting with you and Doppio but you see him brushing against Erina’s dress. She bends down and pets him on the head. You almost roll your eyes at the sight knowing the type of cattitude you had to put up with from him. Even before you found out he could talk! Guess he was more fond of older folk.

While loading everything into Speedwagon's truck you ask Giorno a question. “Are you sure you don't want to stay here with your uncle and aunt?”

You had talked with the man the day before about living arrangements. For now he would be staying at your home, but you felt he would be more comfortable staying with family.

“I'm sure. If my father finds out that I'm staying here--which he would eventually--he’ll cause a commotion.”

You pause what you’re doing. “Does he really dislike Mr. Joestar that much?”

“Yes and he’s unreasonably petty. It would be better if I reside somewhere else until I can get on my own feet. Or until he’s properly dealt with.”

Jonathan really didn't seem like the abrasive type at all so it sounded like a one sided sibling rivalry to you. But it wasn't really your business so you don't pry anymore.

Your group says one last goodbye to Jonatahn and Erina before getting on the truck and departing. Giorno and Doppio insisted on you sitting in the only passenger seat. And Abbacchio joined you, but you can tell he hates being in this loud and shaky truck. It was better than being in the cargo bed though. Speedwagon opened the back window so you all could still talk.

"My home is pretty small. I hope that it isn't too uncomfortable," you say. Along with Doppio sometimes staying for days at a time. It would definitely feel crowded.

“I feel slightly ashamed to say this, but I might be somewhat sheltered so it’ll take me some time to adjust,” Giorno replies.

“Well if you're anything like your uncle im sure youll get used to it Giorno,” Speedwagon chimes in.

The more you learned about Giorno, the more curious you became about his life.

“Well I have to work a decent amount of the time so you'll at least get some space, if Doppio isn't there. But there’s a guest room that you’ll have all to yourself.”

Doppio frowns. He spent more time in your house than you knew, and it wouldn't be as relaxing with someone who wasn't you there. Unaware of your friend’s disapproval, you stretch your arms in front of you, careful not to disturb the overstimulated cat on your lap. This not so small adventure was a nice change in your usual surroundings and schedule, but you were ready to get back to your own home.

#doppio x reader #vinegar doppio x reader #jjba #jjba x reader #incubus!doppio #reader insert #if this fic doesnt actually post in the tag 🤦🏾‍♀️#idk i dont have the patience to deal with tumblrs tagging system anymore

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