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vellichor-of-the-solivagant · 6 months

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How to Plant Snapdragons (pt. 6)

Task Force141 + König + Keegan x Female Criminal!Reader (except Captain Price, because he'll be like a father to the bunch, and König and Keegan won't appear until later on in the story)

CHAPTER SUMMARY: For the first time in your life, you were thankful you had an ankle monitor

You are currently reading Chapter 6. Here is Chapter 5 and the Masterlist!

CONTENT WARNING: Strong Language and Violence, Implied Sexual Content (?) WORD COUNT: 2.6k

“Tie him up,” Price ordered. “Bravo 0-6 to Shadow 0-1, we’ve got the package. I repeat, we’ve got the package.”

“Copy, Bravo-6, the Shadows are still holding down the militia. But better move fast,” Graves demanded through the comms, his voice a bit stifled.

You got up from the man, putting your gun away, and stood beside Ghost, glancing up at him. “What’s on your mind, Lt.?”

“I’m wondering what else ya can do,” he responded in a low voice but kept his eyes focused on the Brazilian.

Gaz and Soap dragged Fabricio up to his feet, trying to remove himself from the soldiers’ death grips, a string of curses in Portuguese and English leaving his mouth.

You chuckled as the sergeants pulled out ropes from the pockets of their vests and bound his wrists on the nearest house’s window railings. “Why don’t you find out, sweetheart?” you questioned, playfully nudging his side.

Upon contact, you felt him stiffen and you quickly withdrew your arm. "Sorry."

He remained silent for a good second and turned to you. "Why not just tell me?"

You looked at him, surprised that he didn’t comment on the nickname you gave him. You smiled. "Eeey, Lt. Ya like to be called sweetheart?"

He frowned. "No, I—"

"Eeey, no need to be shy, buttercup, sweet cheeks, stud muffin—"

"Don't—"

At this point, the rest of Task Force 141 were looking at you two, invested in what kind of cringe name you would give the ever so cool and stoic Ghost. Even Fabricio kept his mouth shut, wondering if you were a mad woman who escaped the Mental Ward and sneaked in with these guys.

"Don't stop the music!" You exclaimed, suddenly pumping your fist in the air and shuffling your feet, before whipping around to Ghost just as he was about to step away. "Where are you escaping, my Pookie, bebegurl, acoochie coochie coo—"

"Enough," he grumbled.

You nodded immediately. "Copy that."

The Sergeants exchanged looks and the Captain sighed, shaking his head.

“Que diabos você quer de mim?!” Fabricio yelled, taking the opportunity to talk, his eyes darting around your figure and the Task Force veiled by the night. Only a flicker of light and your voices could inform him that there were five of you.

“What rubbish is he saying now?” Soap asked, turning to you.

You sauntered towards the target and crossed your arms. “He says, what the hell do we want from him.” Then, you leaned down, leveling your face to his. “Você conhece o inglês?”

(Do you know English?)

His eyes averted for a split second, seemingly thinking, before he shook his head furiously. “Não.”

(No.)

You huffed and glanced over your shoulder to look at the 141. “He knows English, you guys can talk to him instead.” You turned your head back to the Brazilian, who had a frown on his face, knowing you had already seen through his lie. “Say a single word in Portuguese or lie again, you’ll wish you had never messed with these guys.”

Maybe, you were really from the Mental Hospital made in the depths of Hell, because you looked like you added crack instead of salt on an egg at breakfast just now and switched to a seemingly normal soldier who just happened to know Portuguese.

If Bipolarity has four stages, you'd be on twelve.

“I have never messed with any of you!” He shouted, clenching his fist and tugging on the ropes as if he could escape it. “You are the ones who—ugh!”

Soap grabbed his neck and squeezed it tight, his veins raising on his skin. It got you arching your brows, smiling wide, and stepping to the side to let him do his thing, while Fabricio wheezed. What a lucky guy he was to have a beautiful necklace.

“Where is Hassan Zyani?” Johnny questioned, lowering his voice making it sound like a snarl. It made you want to be in the lucky guy’s place, meow, and bark at him if he wanted to.

You were so thankful you had borrowed a mask from the Lieutenant, otherwise, these people would already be dragging you to the mental ward for smiling like a maniac, ready to be a pet for Soap.

Who wouldn’t?

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” claimed Fabricio, his eyes darting from left to right, seemingly looking for something.

You glanced at the other three and it appeared they had noticed the Brazilian had looked around by the way they had also batted their gaze in different directions. Perceiving that as permission to let you and Soap to the rest of the interrogation as one of Price’s tests again, you drew out your knife.

Soap pulled his hand away and stepped aside, eyeing the knife on your hand, before your face covered with mask and night vision.

“It’s no use to lie, sir.” You approached him, holding his hand. “We already know your deals with Hassan. Now, where is he?” you asked and slowly started to drive the tip of your knife on his under the nail of his thumb.

He screamed in pain, his loud voice echoing along the series of gunshots in the air.

These noises were some things you were already used to or rather, they haunted you wherever you went, like a phantom you couldn’t chase away.

Yet it never ceased to be exhilarating.

“I, I don’t—” another scream cut off his words as you lifted his nail from his finger, letting it fall on the ground. Warm blood stained your glove, seeping through the fabric that kept your hand clean.

Just as you were about to do the same to his index finger, he exclaimed, “He’s in Mexico!”

“Where in Mexico?” Soap questioned, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder.

“I—” Fabricio stopped as you pointed the knife to his eye and you could see the big yet dry gulp he had, his Adam’s apple going up and down. “Las . . . Las Almas, Mexico. That’s where I last heard he was going!”

“Las Almas, eh?” Price averted his eyes for a second, appearing to be thinking of something before he stared at the man. “What’s he doing there?”

You slowly planted the tip of the knife under his eye, a warning for him to speak only the truth to the Captain.

“I heard he was making a deal with a person called El Sin Nombre.” Fabricio’s eyes then shifted to you, a bit glossy as tears formed, making you smile. “Please, that’s all I know!”

You kept the knife's blade on his cheek as you turned to face the Captain, quietly waiting for the order he was going to bark. He motioned a hand, swiping his neck which got Fabricio to yell curses at you in his mother tongue, struggling to escape his binds to no avail. With one slash through his throat, his insults that swam to your ears died in the breeze of Rio’s summer night.

You stepped away from the corpse, wiping the knife on your pants, and sheathed it back. You looked from yourself to find Soap, staring at you. You tilted your head in question. “Something the matter, sir?”

“Ah,” Johnny turned away, “nothing.”

It neither looked nor sounded nothing.

“Bravo 0-6 to Shadow 0-1, we’re done unpacking the package,” Price announced, beckoning for the four of you to follow him in an alleyway as he started to jog. You and the guys followed his lead, hugging your assault rifle tight to your chest. The Captain and Gaz were in front of you, while Soap and Ghost were on your rear.

“Copy, Bravo 0-6, that was fast,” Graves immediately replied, amazement evident in his voice.

“She did the unpacking, Shadow-1,” Priced told him, his voice cool, and sounded like a bit of a proud parent when their child achieved something, even if it was small.

You threw your bag on one of the couches and looked around the place, while the guys scattered around, the Sergeant Duo and the Captain yelling at one another when they found alcohol on the shelves.

You and the 141 were currently in one of Graves' facilities, but this one could be called more of a mansion than a facility. You had heard that this one in Salvador was often only used when he and the Shadows would go on a short vacation after missions. And damn, you had always forgotten the prick was rich.

He had let you and the 141 occupy adjoining rooms with a living room, a kitchen, and a dining place. He might as well call this a suite.

You felt your muscles tremble and the wounds, you realized you had when you got on the chopper, ached.

Not bothering to tell anyone you'd be heading to the bathroom, you got your wallet of personal hygiene, sluggishly dragging your feet towards the bathroom. You slipped off your gear, mask, shoes, and shirt. Then, looked down at the monitor—the bane, the pain, the curse of your life.

You slipped off the first half of your pants, freeing one of your legs—Good—and started fighting for your life, pulling the pants past the monitor with one good arm. You even had to sit down on the cold-ass floor but to no avail.

You rolled down on the floor and kicked the air, breathing heavily through your nose, and got back up again to continue your struggle.

"Look at these goddamn pants and monitor having a relationship stronger than most relationships of kids these days," you grumbled, smacking the monitor as if it would break it down to the point your mind became too occupied with your grumbles and constant motivational speeches to realize the voice outside the door and the sound as Soap entered.

And Johnny was too busy to care about the weirdass pose you were making on the floor as his blue eyes raked over every inch of your skin. His brain took note of the curves of your body, the shades of your skin, your toned muscles, and the wounds you had gotten that he wanted to kiss better and caress each part of you gently to make you relax.

Because you looked angry and his instinct was to cover the growing tent on his pants as he locked the door behind him.

"Wait, shite, wrong, wrong—" your foot slammed on the door before he could make his escape, trapping him.

He couldn't help but glance at your leg, eyes traveling to your thighs and to your clothed cunt, making him run his tongue over his lips. Then he continued up to the flat of your stomach where he'd see the outline of his cock if he was pounding you against the bathroom wall, pretty legs over his shoulders, chest bouncing at every movement, and moaning his name.

Oh, you could feel the desire in his gaze right now and you could see the way his tongue moved across his lips and the attempt to hide his hard-on. And you couldn't help but pursed your lips for a moment, bringing your foot down to the cold tile as heat gathered between your thighs.

The sooner he left, the sooner you could take care of it. But you need his help right now. "Take off my pants."

The lingering blush on his cheeks spread to his ears and neck. "What? No, no, I—"

"It's stuck on the monitor."

"It's stuck . . . ?" He looked down on your leg and almost slapped himself upon not noticing that your pants were indeed stuck on the monitor, and couldn't help but cackle, remembering your position earlier. "That's why yer on the floor!"

"No shit, Sherlock."

"I'm Scottish."

"No shit, Scotlock."

"That's even worse. Alright, stand still. I'll grab a bathrobe." He patted your head and picked up your vest, shirt, mask, and shoes from the floor, putting them on the sink's side. Then, he proceeded to get a bathrobe and slipped it on you, even fastening the ties for you.

“Now then.” He reached down and scooped you in his arm, making your lips part and heart leap in surprise. He set you down next to the sink and gave your thigh a small pat. “I’ll get scissors.”

He turned away and opened the door. “Let’s keep this open, okay?"

"Okay," you replied in a small voice and brought your good hand to your face. "God, he's bad for my heart."

But for the first time, you were thankful you had an ankle monitor.

"Did he just come out of here?" Gaz's voice echoed and popped out behind the wall, raising a brow at you. A chuckle left his lips and he approached you. "Ah, no wonder."

"Don't laugh," you whined, waving your leg and whacking him with your pants like a whip.

His laughter only got louder and you pulled a face. He grinned and pinched your cheek. Then, he frowned as he saw blood soaking the white bathrobe. "What the hell, you're bleeding!"

You looked down at your thigh and clicked your tongue. "Damn, it's on the—"

"Got the scissors," Soap announced and his brows flew as he saw his fellow soldier. You noticed that Ghost was behind him, holding a first aid kit. "Hey, Gaz. By the way, I told the Lt. 'bout your wounds." He gestured a thumb over his shoulder.

"He said you have cuts that are large enough to need stitches," Ghost claimed, raking his light brown eyes over your frame. He could see your hand and thigh bleeding.

"Ah, I was planning on taking care of it later," you said as Soap began cutting the pants and finally pulled it off your ankle monitor. He set it aside and inspected the monitor if he accidentally damaged it.

His eyes narrowed as he placed the kit down next to you. "Later won't cut it, sweetheart." He slipped off his gloves and washed his hands clean on the sink, before patting it dry on the towel hanging on the wall. He extended his hand. "Let me see your hand first."

You put the back of your hand over his, showing him your palm. A cut across greeted his sight, blood running out and making him sigh. "Not so deep to need stitches, this one, but we need to bandage it up." He opened the tap and guided your hand under the running water. "Gaz, put pressure on her thigh. It's bleeding too much."

You winced at the sudden sting as the water hit your wound and the Sergeants had begun to press clean towels on your bleeding cuts, but it was nothing you couldn't take. Soon, after cleaning the wound, he applied down ointment and bandaged it up.

"Alright, your . . . thigh." He looked you straight in the eyes. "May I?"

For someone who had strangled you with his godly thighs, he sure was a gentleman. But more than that, you had noticed that as you had grown closer to the Sergeants, it seemed the more you grew distant from the Lieutenant. He had avoided your touches, even a simple nudge.

You nodded. "Of course, sir."

Gaz removed his hand away from your thigh and Ghost carefully lifted it to look at the wound. His rough, scarred, calloused hand felt warm against your skin.

"We'll have to stitch this one," he claimed and gently set your leg down.

"Are you good at it, sir?" You questioned as he rummaged through his kit. He pulled out a kind of needle you were so familiar with—a curved one.

"Very," he said confidently, putting a thread through the eye of the needle, and disinfected it with alcohol. "Go hold onto something. This might hurt."

"Want to hold my hand, Bonnie?" Soap offered, taking your good hand in his grasp.

"Please," you replied, squeezing it.

"Come closer," Ghost demanded and you inched yourself closer to the edge. "Lift your leg a bit for me."

Ah, another one that was bad for your heart.

The next chapter is Here!

Also on AO3!

Taglist: @yyiikes, @the-faceless-bride, @sae1kie, @sarahedwards16, @kenma-izhu, @kkaaaagt

Note: Sorry for the short chap. I got sick for almost 5 days. I was planning on adding more in this chapter but yeah, that happened. Also, please let me know if I got the translations wrong. I was also planning on making a Halloween Special, but idk when or if I'll post it since Halloween is ending lmao

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nyxrryl · 1 year

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Legally Blonde Reader x Bonten

Bonten had no idea what they were signing up for when they hired their lawyer, (name) (last name).

of course, the criminals already had a vague idea of what to expect from a lawyer, the typical, uptight, cold and serious demeanour- nicely tailored monocoloured suits where most likely the only pop of colour would be a dark coloured tie, maybe tie clip- safe to say they didn't exactly expect to see their lawyer enter their office for the first time in a bright pink ensemble- a pastel pink button up that had the collar unbuttoned, a hot pink blazer and pink pants, with a pretty pink Prada purse and an alluring, definitely expensive smelling perfume/cologne practically announcing his presence. "oh my gawd hi!! nice to meet you all, i'm (name) (last name), its like so good to meet you all!" he said in a cheery, upbeat voice.

this was definitely not what the Bonten men were expecting, at all.

they also weren't exactly expecting getting called by (name) in the middle of the day

"heyy! so, this is totally awkward but like, i may have done an oopsie, mind helping a guy out? i'm not exactly as experienced in taking out the trash." he said aloud on loudspeaker for all the men to hear, Kakucho raising an eyebrow at this, sure they had gotten to know the lawyer better to the point there's no longer that odd tension between them,--even if it took months and a good amount of lunch breaks being shared between the individuals in order to warm up to the lawyer--but to just help with chores? "you don't know how to take out your own garbage?" "ugh- no silly! i mean a body, i mean, he isn't dead but-" they overhear him kicking what they can only presume to be some poor mans body. "-i think he's unconscious, still- i don't exactly know what to do with him, i mean i restrained him in case he wanted to try something but can you guys pleaaaase just help? pretty pleasee?~" he begged, whining into the phone. meanwhile, the men in the conference room just stare at each other in shock- none of them expected their preppy, cheerful hot pink lawyer to need help on handling a body of all things.

"where are you?" Mikey spoke up, having been silent the entire call but deciding why not lend him a helping hand- the platinum haired man did owe (name) a favour- something he wouldn't admit seeing it happened just out of nowhere when (name) got him taiyaki, claiming it was the last batch of the day and that he owed him, something he would probably shoot the person for suggesting but he made an exception for name- a decision definitely not influenced by the bag full of taiyaki left for him. the rest of Bonten were a little surprised to see Mikey take the initiative but they'd follow his decision.

"oh, right i'm at (location)." "we'll be there in 10." "okay~" and with that (name) hung up and the men went on to get to the location, upon arriving, they found (name) in an alley, one hand on his phone and the other holding what looked like.. a pink taser? adding to that, he had a man under his heel- the man was on the floor and had his arms bound together on his back, where it was bound, (name) was stepping on it. "oh hey guyss, he hasn't woken up- don't worry he's not dead, i don't think so at least- but mind giving a hand please?~" he put his hands together in a pleading manner, turning to the men- "is that a taser?" "yep! its pink too, isn't it cute?~" he grinned and as he said that, the bound man finally regained consciousness- wriggling around to which (name) just stepped on him, clearly hard as the Bonten men swore that they heard a crack from it. "who even is this guy?" "oh, he's just some creep that tried to touch me. don't worry, you can clearly see i handled it, nearly killed him too- i'm glad i didn't though." the smile (name) bore as he replied was somewhat unsettling to the men, of course seeing violence wasn't exactly all that new to them but to see this seemingly innocent man be so cheerily vicious struck them, be it in a good or bad way they couldn't say, they could just admit it was quite the revelation. nonetheless they helped him out, afterwards (name) let out a sigh of relief, "thanks guys, i owe you one. ugh, i need to take a shower after dealing with that piece of rotten garbage." he said as he wiped his hands off.

"well aren't you very cleanly." Kokonoi commented and (name) smiled "of course! i just got my nails done just now, i'd hate for the polish to end up being affected by wastage like him." he showed off his newly done nails, to nobody's surprise they were bright, barbie doll pink. "aren't they cute! oh if only i could get matching nails with (pet's name), that would be adorable!" the men looked at him, confused- "who?" "(pet's name), y'know! my pet, look!" he pulled out his phone and showed them a picture of said pet, sitting in one of his bags. "they're my darling angel, oh how i would love to bring him to stay by my side when doing work but professionalism and all." he sighed as he put his phone away. "i mean, i wouldn't mind if you brought in your pet, as long as it's behaved and all" Kakucho admitted, and before the others could even give their input, (name) beamed at the invitation- "really?! omg i'll be sure to bring them, don't worry they're toilet trained, i myself hate having an eyesore of a litterbox personally." he squealed thinking of his precious baby coming to work with him, what outfit should he give? they HAVE to match, that's a clear rule.

the others would've interjected but how could they? he looked so excited. maybe just one day with a pet in the office would be fine, it'd be bearable for just a day. a single day, that would be all.

okay they may have taken back that comment upon seeing the adorable little (pet), they enjoyed having it around and even would at times take breaks just to pet it cause stress-- give the men a break they work hard. (name) was overjoyed upon seeing the men be so open to having his pet at work. maybe they could let the pet stay other days too, it was nice to have a stress reliever right there, of course, if (name) allowed so after this.

Taglist

@luvrbunny01

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers oc #mikey x reader #ran haitani #bonten x male reader #bonten #bonten x reader #bonten sanzu x male reader #sanzu x male reader #sanzu x reader #sanzu haruchiyo #tokrev takeomi #tokyo revengers x gender neutral reader #kokonoi x male reader #bonten kokonoi #legally blonde reader

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delopsia · 6 months

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aches & pains | Rhett Abbott x Reader

Word Count: 3,600 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: AFAB!Reader on their period, cuddles, baths together, Rhett's hurt his shoulder, sharing a cup of tea, period cramps, Rhett getting sick, and a whole bunch of mushy soft stuff. A splash of hurt/comfort if you take the hurt literally 🤍 Brief Summary: You might not be able to avoid the aches and pains of the world, but at least you've got each other.

There is nothing quite as undoing as the sudden, vicious tightening of the muscles in your lower belly. Body alight with what you can only describe as the sensation of being stabbed by the invisible knife of a ghost you've pissed off by merely existing. Each jolt of pain worse than the last. Letting up just long enough to deceive you into believing the onslaught has stopped, only to continue the moment your relieved breath meets the air.

Your hand fumbles with the sleeve of Rhett's jacket, still unsure if you want to clutch the thick material to your belly or if you want to keep it under your head. The pressure is a tempting distraction, but removing your makeshift pillow means your neck will be in that awkward position again. Extending a little too far down to meet the curve of Rhett's bench seat, enough to rise another inconvenience.

Ugh.

There's a noise outside the passenger side of the truck. Voices of the people parked next to you and the dull thunk of their door hitting Rhett's door, no doubt adding another scratch to the deep blue paint.

You can't even begin to think about calling them out for it. Even the idea of moving your mouth is too much for your weary body to handle.

A gust of wind rocks the body of the truck, lightly swaying back and forth like some terrifying, oversided cradle. The breeze screams as it whips past the frame, searching for every nook and crack it can find, squeezing into the crevices, determined to get in and wrap you up in its icy grasp.

And it gets in.

The door squeals as it's forced open by that wicked wind, its big, frosty fingers reaching in to wrap around your ankle—

"'y feelin' alright?" Rhett's voice is so warm that you can almost almost ignore the frost that's rudely nipping at your nose.

It hurts, craning your neck to look at him like this. Such a simple movement sends your lower belly into a fit of rage, twisting and churning in the kind of fashion that no over-the-counter painkiller can dull. His left arm sits in an off-white sling, cradling it to his chest, his worn face clouded with dirt and a collection of blood from a recently split lip. If you didn't know any better, you'd think the Tillersons picked another fight with him.

"Are you alright?" You croak, shifting to pull your legs in, going against the will of every tiny little nerve that screams, begs for you not to move.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Your eyes screw shut. Fingers digging into the cloth seat until you're certain it's beginning to rip.

Oh, the joys of living in a body that seems to hate you with every fiber of its being.

The truck sways as Rhett climbs into the driver seat, wordlessly fitting into the gap of space you've painstakingly created for him. Not enough for him to comfortably sit, and certainly not for him to drive, but he's able to close the door just fine, albeit struggling with his left arm being out of commission.

"Y' didn't answer my question," his hand delves under the leg of your sweatpants as he speaks, cold fingers like a dream against your too-hot skin.

Your head thunks against the side of the door, and for a moment, it's enough to distract from the war going on inside of you. "You didn't answer mine," the corner of your eye twitches, the only visible indicator of the pain flooding back into your senses.

"Fell off the bull wrong," the corner of Rhett's lip rises like an injury of this caliber is some minor, funny thing that should be smiled about. Like he isn't holding a pretty new prescription for another round of pain medication. Freshly printed. Just in time to replace what he was given for those broken ribs a couple of weekends ago.

You should have been there. Cheering him on like you always do, jumping to your feet with the crowd, and delivering a thundering applause as his name soared to the top of the scoreboard. Chasing down a third season win in a row, a rare Wabang champ looking to take down his fathers record. But instead, here you are, torn apart by a menstrual cycle.

Rhett squeezes your ankle, a reminder that he's still here, "You don't look like y' feel any better."

"I feel worse," you croak, mouth suddenly dry as you sift for the energy to move again. The equivalent of searching for a drop of water in a blazing desert. Futile in every sense of the term. Leaving you to squirm miserably against the seat until you're somewhat upright, slouched against Rhett's side.

His wind-bitten nose nudges against your cheek, "'m sorry," that big, warm arm wraps around your shoulders as he speaks, drawing you close, "Want me to stop 'n get y' somethin'? Or would you rather we go home?"

"Home," you whisper, "please."

It isn't the safest idea. No, not by a long shot.

But you find yourself sinking back down against the bench seat again, head coming to rest against Rhett's jean-clad thigh as he drives out of the parking lot. His left arm wriggling out of the sling, thick fingers brushing back and forth at the back of your neck. Some odd thing that, when combined with the deep rumble of his truck, could almost put you to sleep.

Almost.

Because nothing can fully distract from that vicious spasming of muscles, wound so tightly that your body can't fully stretch out. Stuck in an awkward curl that has your knees hanging over the edge of the seat.

The truck is sitting at one of the only red lights in Wabang when a hat comes to perch on your hip. Chipped and torn at the edge, one of its many signs of age, and just a little bit dusty from landing in the dirt. Come morning, you're sure you'll find Rhett cleaning it before he heads off to work.

But right now, he's looking down at you. Hair cascading across his dirty face, eyes sparkling with a fondness you can't quite describe. Soft shades of blue that look black in this dark truck, poorly illuminated by a street lamp.

"What?" You chirp, blinking up at him, doe-eyed as can be. What's he looking at you for?

His head shakes, "nothin'."

A horn blares. Effectively shattering whatever moment you two just held.

It only serves to make room for another, a little more mundane and a smidgen quieter; silence kept at bay by the guttural groan of the truck motor and the soft melody of the radio. Some country song that reminisces on the past, in all of its melancholy, sorrowful glory. Not the type of song that would necessarily get to you on a normal day, but right now, it's got a wateriness forming in the corners of your eyes.

You wonder if this will ever come to an end.

The quiet aftermath of rodeos, as Rhett drives the both of you home for a celebration of your own determining, away from the hustle and bustle of bars and in the coziness of your living room. What will these Sunday nights look like when he quits chasing gaudy belt buckles and is satisfied with the number of wins under his belt?

Will you two still be a thing when that day comes? Or is this the kind of thing that never really ends, devolving into a life of shared goods and bads until fate comes to claim one of you?

Your head tilts, body shifting until you're lying on your back, now gazing up at that handsome face of his, even if he's got more dirt under his jaw than you'd like to admit. It's hard to imagine a day when this man becomes nothing but a memory to you, but if the world doesn't tear you two apart, then...

"I can feel your eyes on me, sweetheart," Rhett's tone is warm, shaped by the smile gracing his lips.

Surprised, your gaze darts away, "Just thinking."

Gravel pops and scatters beneath the tires, your only indication that he's pulling into your driveway. Still a sad collection of dirt, dust, and rock, waiting for the day your landlord commits to his decision of having it properly paved.

"'bout what?" Rhett's reaching to put the truck in park, and just like that, you've got his full attention. Not another distraction on this planet that can take his attention away from you.

And maybe that's what makes it so hard for you to speak, all of a sudden, "Do you think...we're going to be a forever kind of thing?"

Maybe you shouldn't have asked that because although his good hand is dipping down, thump running across your cheek, his eyelashes are fluttering in a fashion reserved for when he's overwhelmed or caught off guard.

A muscle against his temple flexes as the gears in his head begin to turn. Dissolving into genuine thought as he continues to look down at you.

"Yeah," it's gruff, borderline unintelligible, but it's there. "I kind of...already thought this was a forever thing, if 'm bein' real honest with ya."

There are more words that can be said, eloquently tied together with a shiny new ribbon and gently scented with your favorite flowers, but they don't need to be spoken. You get what each other means just by the dumb, wobbly smiles on your faces.

"How's a bubble bath sound?" His thumb smooths over your lips like he's trying to memorize every part of you, "might make y' feel a lil' better, won't it?"

Somehow, you already knew he was going to suggest that, always has been on the top of his 'make it better' list ever since the day you first mentioned them. "Will you get in with me?"

His head shakes, and it's the last thing you were hoping to see. "Naw, I got enough dirt on me to turn it into a mud bath."

Famous last words because the moment you're settled in with all the lightly scented bubbles, and your hand starts making that childish grabby motion, quietly whining for him to get in with you, he cracks. Skips unbuttoning his flannel in exchange for tugging it over his head, and you'll pretend you don't notice the fresh accumulation of dirt on your recently mopped floor.

He never has been good at telling you no.

"'m gettin' ya all dirty, doll," he chuckles, but he's not stopping you from squishing your cheek against his flushed chest. From here, it's easy to catch the swelling in his left shoulder. It doesn't seem to bother him all that much, but it's sure to give him hell come sunrise.

"We're in a bath," as if to emphasize your statement, you reach out, collecting a pile of bubbles in your palm and squishing it to his meaty chest, "You're allowed to be dirty."

He's quiet for a moment, and then, "The water's turnin' brown."

"We'll run more water," you huff, foot kicking against his, sending a wave sloshing against the side of the tub. Distantly, you think you can hear drops of water splattering against the tile floor, but you can't bring yourself to care.

And it's so, so easy to ignore when Rhett's heart pitter patters beneath your ear, a dull thump, thump, thump that has become your favorite lullaby. Drawing you a little closer, eyelids growing heavier with every passing moment.

Until he sneezes.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

"Getting sick?" Your voice is a little rougher than you remember it being, thick with what was almost sleep.

"Nah," Rhett's rubbing at his nose with the back of his hand, leaving it tinted with a bright shade of red, "takes a lot for me t' get sick."

Famous last words because it only marks the start of more sneezing. A never-ending fit that makes it a tad bit difficult to run your soapy fingers through his knotted hair, scrubbing away a day's worth of dirt and grime that hid so, so well in the darkness of his curls. Unruly bubbles cascade down his neck and across his broad shoulders, where he's unknowingly collected a few freckles.

And, of course, you have to use your hands to wipe them away. After all, who would you be if you didn't sneak a few skirting touches here and there?

The sniffling starts somewhere between the naked dash to the linen closet because both of you managed to forget the towels and when a sea of rage boils up in your lower belly. Muscles twisting and turning for the umpteenth time today because an hour of relief is far too much for your body to allow you.

"Hurtin' again?" Rhett's words muffled by his toothbrush, still working away at his teeth.

All you can do is nod and hope that he sees it; your eyes have long since screwed shut as if it'll do anything to relieve the war raging inside your body. Hands itching to reach for the bottle of painkillers in the cabinet, but your head reminds you that you're already on the maximum dosage.

Water runs. The plastic handle of the toothbrush banging against the side of the sink as Rhett shakes off the water clinging to the bristles.

"C'mon," Rhett's wet hand wraps around your own, gently tugging, "got an idea."

Before you can so much as take a step forward, you know what he's up to.

He's making tea.

Because, as his momma always says, a little bit of tea can fix just about anything. A sentiment that has transformed that spare cabinet in your kitchen into a collection of various teas that even outnumber the amount carried by the local grocery store. Chamomile, peppermint, hibiscus, lemon, green, milk, and that one odd brand he uses for sweet tea, just to name a few.

Getting the kettle on the stove is easy; Rhett holds the container under the faucet while you man the water flow, and that should be it.

But waiting is an entirely new kind of horrible; the last time water was boiled in the house, both of you fell asleep and nearly missed the frantic howling from the kitchen. A mistake that has left the two of you leaning up against the cabinets, your head resting against Rhett's, listening to the gentle rattle of the kettle as the water heats up.

"You aren't putting your sling back on?" You whisper, words slurring together, tongue too lazy to fully break them apart. The vague memory lingering in the back of your head suggests that he left the sling hanging on the back of the bathroom door, and with the way he minds his left side entirely, you know he needs it, but...

"No point," his head tilts, lips pressing idly against your temple, "neither of us are gonna make it to midnight."

You can't help the giggle he works out of you, "remember the days when we stayed at the bar until they kicked us out?"

"You mean two weekends ago?" Now he's laughing with you; two weeks feels like such a long time ago.

Something in your lower abdomen twitches, an organ you weren't aware of until now. Must be its own form of karma because a twinge of pain jolts through you when your eyes roll. "Better than two months, I suppose."

"Nah, two months is good too," his eyes are on you, boring two warm holes into the thin skin of your cheek. You'd meet his eye, but you fear you'd catch fire. "And two years...and twenty years, 'n when we're in the old folks home talkin' 'bout havin' a wild night out at bingo."

You can picture it now. Silvery canes, wrinkled skin, and a tattered, brown cowboy hat that you just know Rhett will keep for the rest of his life because it's 'still good.' It's already begun to tear on the inside, and it's, what, five years old? Six, maybe?

"Staying out 'till eight, how scandalous," speaking in the best dramatic voice you can manage, hand rising to rest over your heart.

Rhett's weight shifts, leaving you to slouch against his shoulder instead, "'m sure we'll be able to hold out 'till nine,"

What's worse, you can't bring yourself to move, even if the muscles in your neck are twitching and protesting in tune with your belly. "Rhett, we're barely managing to hold it together now, and it's only eleven."

"... eight-thirty?"

You really,

truly,

do not know what you're going to do with him.

An ear-splitting whistle tears through the air, drawing your attention back to the long mugs and their chosen tea bags. Which tea did you choose again? You can hardly remember.

But now you've got a warm cup between your palms, the kind of cozy gentleness that transports you right to bed in one sip. One minute, you're standing side by side at the counter, and the next, your legs are hopelessly tangled. His shirt is missing, gifting you the freedom of resting your forehead against his wondrously broad chest. Rough fingers stroke up and down your back, the clumsy brushings of a painting that only Rhett can see.

"Does your throat hurt?" His voice rumbles, and in the dark of the bedroom, it almost sounds like thunder. The beginnings of a storm that will transform your metal rooftop into a choir, proudly singing its songs for the umpteenth time this week.

Despite lightly scalding your mouth, a little too eager for your tea, you can't seem to find the slightest hint of soreness or pain. The only thing out of the ordinary is your slightly scalded tongue. "You're getting sick, baby," you mutter, tilting your head to catch a glimpse of his face.

It's hard to see from this angle, but you don't mind the view of his jaw. His stubble is long enough to feel soft under your fingers when you reach to rub your thumb against the bone.

"'m not gettin' sick," but the confidence in his tone is overridden by the edges of hoarseness, cracking his vowels in two.

You both know that his protests are futile. When Rhett Abbott gets sick, it hits him like a goddamn freight train, ripping the strength from his muscles and leaving him a red-nosed, miserable mess. Nine times out of ten that means you'll be picking it up as soon as he's feeling better.

So what's possessing you to crane your head up and kiss his lips, effectively sealing your fate?

"Whatever you say, cowboy," the corners of your lips rise, and you could say more if you really wanted to, but he's already kissing you back. Lazily opening his mouth to yours, scruffy chin rubbing against your jaw, as his hand flattens against the small of your back. It's wet and its messy, every motion punctured by a slick sound in the air, and it's everything.

And it's going to get you so, so sick.

Sleep must come somewhere after Rhett rubbing your noses together and that one yawn that forces your eyes shut because it's the only thing you can recall when a gentle rattle of the house wakes you. Thunder, accompanied by her beloved friend, rain, stirring up a fuss outside your window. The clouds thick enough to block out the sun's heated rays, drenching your home in a coolness that can only be thwarted by the body against yours.

Your leg shifts, slipping out from between Rhett's, as you readjust yourself. It's too early to be awake.

"Where y' goin'?" A voice whines in a tone you hardly recognize.

Until you do.

From the moment your eyes lay on Rhett's paler-than-usual face, you know what's happened. Whatever bug he's caught, it's worked fast because, in less than twelve hours, he's gone from sneezing and a sore throat to this.

His cheeks a little swollen, eyelids drooping in that too-tired fashion usually reserved for long days on the Abbott ranch, and oh, the bags under his not-so-awake eyes.

"I know," he mutters, dejected, "'m sick." His face wrinkles as he speaks, like it's hurting him to talk, that sore throat coming back to bite him as hard as it can.

"Sick is an understatement," you're almost afraid to run your fingers through his hair, not out of fear of getting sick but of breaking him and that glass smile. "You look horrible."

"Works gonna suck," he's scooting down the bed, face disappearing under the sheets as he nuzzles into your chest. But even the thickness of the blankets can't muffle that sharp inhale when his left arm goes to wrap around you.

It's easy to feel the swelling, even without being able to see what your hand is touching, because his shoulder isn't as bony as the rest of his body. "You can't work like this," you're likely embarking on a losing battle, but he's even wincing away from your faint touch. Too sore to be touched.

"Yes...can," is what you think he says; it's hard to decipher what comes out of his mouth when his face is actively burrowing into your chest.

You know you've won when he falls back into that peaceful, sleepy silence. Unconcerned with arguing or fussing about what will happen when his father learns of his no-show at the ranch. Simply content to lay here in bed, with your soft hand stroking up and down the knobs of his spine in that feather-light sort of way that makes him gasp.

"Stay 'ere?" He's speaking funny, trying to escape that nagging sensation in his throat.

"Yeah," pressing a kiss to the top of his head, messy hair and all, "stay here."

Both of you are asleep within minutes, escaping the world for a few more hours, just you, Rhett, and this big, comfy bed. You might not be able to avoid the aches and pains of the world, but at least you've got each other.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #oneshot #afab reader #outer range #rhett abbott imagine #x reader

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cafemilk-tea · 1 month

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Migraine from Hell

❒ pairing - evelyn x mingyu

❒ word count - 0.8K

❒ synopsis - in which mingyu takes care of evelyn while she’s under the weather

🏷️ taglist - @justmochi @ateezjuliet @itzynabi @cosmicwintr @billboard-singer @kimhyejin3108 @cixrosie @enhacolor @allthings-fandoms @mingis-wrld @kmgfeels @peachyaeger @choihaneul @angie-x3 @aysxldea @alixnsuperstxr

✨ feel free to send in an ask/dm if you’d like to be added to evie/anna’s taglist

Evelyn wrinkled her nose in her sleep when the faintest feather-like touch brushed past the tip, fluttering her eyes open in confusion when the back of a hand had pressed gently against her forehead and then down to her cheek. She squinted her eyes from the dimmed lighting, her head feeling like it was being whacked around repeatedly with a hammer.

“Sorry baby, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Mingyu’s voice was just above a whisper, smoothing down her hair as he spoke quietly to her. He was crouched down in front of the couch, Evelyn’s temporary bed as she napped for practically the entire day. He frowned at the sight of her pinkish cheeks, rubbing his thumb over the skin gently, “You’re still burning up.”

Evelyn leaned into his hand, pressing her eyes closed tightly as another pulse from her migraine coursed throughout her head in subtle waves. She was unfortunately cursed with having migraines more often from the genetics of her mother’s side of the family, all the while catching a cold from god knows where. She brought one of her hands up to shield her eyes from the light, as she peeked one eye open at him.

“What time is it?” It came out more mumbled together than she would’ve liked but she couldn’t help it.

“It’s almost midnight.”

He leaned back on his feet to press up from his spot on the floor, grabbing her medicine and a bottle of water from the kitchen before making his way back over to her. She grimaced when she saw the medicine bottle in his hand, scrunching her face up in disgust watching him pour the thick liquid into the little plastic measuring cup slowly to not spill any. She had unfortunately run out of the pill form of cold medicine and was left at the hands of the liquid form.

“Ugh that stuff is so gross,” She whined, sitting up and taking the cup from him, putting it to her lips and tilting her head back to let it drain into her mouth. She swallowed the medicine quickly, handing him the cup back and grabbing the water bottle to wash away the bitter taste.

“But it’ll help you get better faster,” He pouted his lips in sympathy, grabbing her by the hand and kissing her knuckles, reeling back on his heels to drop the medicine off on the counter and tossing the cup into the sink to deal with in the morning.

Evelyn threw her arms above her head, twisting her body around to crack her back. She looked over to where Winnie’s bed was, frowning when she didn’t see the puppy anywhere in sight. Bleu was also strangely not up on her perch looking out of the window or walking around the apartment with her mantra of meows.

“Where’re the babies at?”

“Winnie is being looked after by Seungkwan and Bleu is over with Wonwoo so you wouldn’t have to worry about them while being unwell,” He wandered back into the living room, sliding in beside her on the couch and pulling her in towards his chest, the two of them falling against the back of the couch.

A hum left her lips as she snuggled into his warm body wanting nothing more than to fall back into a deep sleep. Mingyu pressed a kiss on the top of her head, taking notice of her eyes falling shut.

“C’mon sleepy girl,” Mingyu giggled as Evelyn tried to wrap her limbs around his body, “Let’s lay in our actual bed.”

He slithered out from her grasp, holding his hand out for her to take

“Carry me,” She pouted her lips out, holding her arms up in a silent beg. If she was being honest, walking to the bed felt like such a chore and she would have rathered to stay in her spot on the couch, but also knew that her back would be in such pain in the morning.

“Come here my little baby.”

Mingyu scooped her up into his arms, one arm holding underneath her knees and the other firmly holding against her back. He used his elbow to shut off the light switch before making their way down the hallway into the bedroom. He knew her bedroom like the back of his hand and found the bed without having to turn on a light, not wanting to worsen Evelyn’s headache anymore than it already was.

He laid her gently on her side of the bed, pulling the covers over top of her body, pressing another kiss to her forehead. His hand instinctively came forward and caressed the side of her face, Evelyn’s eyes already falling close from the medicine and just pure exhaustion. Mingyu stripped down to just his boxers, slipping in beside Evelyn on his claimed side of the bed. And like it was instinct, Evelyn turned onto her side and wiggled until she was smack against Mingyu’s body, cuddling him until she fell into complete sleepiness.

#ficnetfairy #cafemilk-tea: evelyn #svt.meve #kpop addition #kpop oc #seventeen oc #idol!oc #14th member of seventeen #oc!idol #fake kpop oc #fake kpop idol #fake kpop addition #seventeen added member

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bellewintersroe · 7 months

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Max Verstappen x HornerDaughter!

Part 8, here’s the LINK to part 7, how tf have I got so far already? Pls comment guys to let me know what you’re thinking or if you have any conspiracy’s about what’s gonna happen, I love the engagement, keeps me motivated lol. Also just a quick shout out I don’t dislike Kelly, I just used her for the story as it’s FICTION, if ya’ll hate desperately on peoples partners for no justified reason then leave pls cos it’s weird. Only a short chapter but I wanna get more of a build up before we reach more deeper into the story :)

Leni wakes up with one of the worst hangovers ever, plus, she’s on the bathroom floor? That would be the worst part of the night, but when her memory pieces back together and she has to deal with what happened the night before going back to sleep on the bathroom floor seems fine… Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @callsignwidow @fangirl125reader @norassimpingzone @roseseraj @eugene-emt-roe @copper-boom @its-elias-world @cassiopeiia24 @larastark3107

“Ugh.” My voice cracked, eyes momentarily opening only to squeeze shut again when a blinding light, sunlight, stung my eyes. My first thought was, fuck, I’d left my contact lenses in, my second, why on earth was on the bathroom floor?

Momentarily I was dazed, my eyes feeling like they had cheese shredders in them. I peeled the dry lenses out of my eyes, dropping them in the toilet. Thankfully it was a clean toilet and I didn’t wake up to my own vomit. With a groan and a slight grace, I sat up straight, blinking around the room. My phone laid besides me, and shakily, I reached out to unlock it. As I did I wanted to curl up and DIE. A drunken text from Max only caused flashbacks from the night prior. We kissed, and I really fucking enjoyed it. Me and Max kissed. Max Verstappen and I, my long time FRIEND kissed. My heavy head dropped into my palm, groaning again. I’d broken every single rule I’d set myself, NOT to go there, or at least wait a few months. Drunken me seemingly had the control of a horny 18 year old. When I realised I had 0 underwear on that’s when I became even more confused.

We hadn’t had sex? No, no. For sure we hadn’t done that. I don’t think he fingered me? Turns out they were stuffed in my bag for some bizarre reason, and I couldn’t quite piece together why on earth they weren’t actually on me. I don’t even know if I wanted to know, thinking about it too much gave me a serious case of hangxiety, and my poor stomach couldn’t tolerate it. Pathetically, I wretched over the toilet and threw up even more contents from my nights intake.

Please God, stop me being sick and I will never drink again. Ever!

It was crazy how such an extreme hungover could bring an atheist to become religious, right? With last nights actions I couldn’t even bring myself to respond to Max, plus, his message made no sense, something about being too drunk and his birthday. I felt too much shame, he probably only kissed me because he was just as fucking plastered. I was confident he’d never want to do that sober, surely not?

The only thing I could do was sit down in the shower, contemplating every single action from the night before, letting the water cleanse my skin of the pure sins. What would my dad say if he knew I’d been snogging his golden boy? It would make it awkward to say the least.

I laid in bed, hair dripping onto the pillows but I didn’t have it in me to care. I’d added too much embarrassing shit to both my private and public Instagram story which had already been viewed and most likely screenshotted thousands of times. Mortified wasn’t even the right word, if it wasn’t for my empty stomach I would’ve vomited from that alone.

Max: sorry that made no sense, hope you’re not feeling too rough this morning? thank you for coming yesterday I had such a good time Max: I hope nothing makes you feel weird from last night, it’s fine between us right?

When I awoke at 2pm I felt my chest tighten at Max’s texts. I even smiled that he had acknowledged last night, a little weird of me seeing as I wanted to pass away earlier, but with my hangover relatively slept off, my feelings for Max were coming on strong.

Leni: hey I just woke up again sorry, I had such a good time, hope you had a good bday

Leni: I don’t feel weird, we’re all good Leni: do you? I caught myself smiling a little too hard, awaiting his reply, when I saw the speech bubble of him forming a response and started giggling, I knew that I was already a goner. I was so deep down afraid of getting my heart broke seeing as Max was fresh out of a relationship (even if he’d mentally checked out) I had to push myself away from any kind of intimate interaction. It had already gone way too far.

Max: no, no not at all

Max: probably the best birthday I’ve had I hated how hard I smiled, my heart kinda sunk when I began overthinking everything I didn’t need to. It all seemed fun now, but how would something between Max and I ever work. What if he decided one day this was all too soon, or if he didn’t actually like me? Our friendship would be screwed forever. I hesitantly locked my phone, staring off into space as I began imagining every scenario possible. I’d have no option but to revert whatever happened between Max and I back into how it was before, if that was even possible. What if Max suddenly thought I was super obsessed with him and I was bugging him by texting him too often?? I scratched my head uncomfortably at the thought, cringing down to my bones at the idea I could possibly be a nuisance to him.

One way to fix this??? Cut communication online from slim to nothing- or as least as I possibly could without growing attached or seeming rude. It was a plan, and it was a plan that commenced today, as much as I didn’t actually want to do it, as long as I didn’t have a sip of alcohol I’d be fine… right?

What could go wrong?

#max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen x oc #max verstappen x hornerdaughter #f1 x oc #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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slippinninque · 1 month

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Fontaine vs Usher

Notes: fluff, short n sweet, pouty 'taine, goofy reader, I added a bit more cause this one wouldn't leave me alone lol.

Fontaine video called while you were puttering around your kitchen cleaning up after your snack, your laptop still at the table open and flickering through playlists.

"Ugh, I had the biggest crush on Usher-- I'm glad he's still doing alright .."

"....Fuck him."

You snorted, pausing in wiping down your counter, "Now, 'Taine..."

"Mhmm, I said it...fuck 'em."

"What did he do to you?!"

"It ain't about what Usher did, it's what he does. He come over here an' call himself serendaing-- he'll be finishing that hook up at them pearly gates...."

You crumbled onto the counter, outdone and incredulous at your man. Fontaine's expression was every bit serious aside from the slight lift of his brow.

"You are terrible, Fontaine, you can't be out here taking out the greats!"

Fontaines face was suddenly up against his camera, "Turn me 'round, lemme see him..."

"You acting like he's here!"

"I said turn me, woman!"

Dutifully doing as you were asked, you held him in the direction of your laptop right when Usher took off his shirt, tossing it into the crowd.

"See? Look at 'em.... whore."

You couldn't stop laughing as Fontaine wished the absolute worst on the singer.

"I hope you roll your ankle the next time you slide up to a lady, you audacious bitch. Aight, I'm done."

Sighing as you wiped away tears, you shook your head once he could see you again, "You're terrible, but I'm lucky to have you."

Fontaine huffed, "Let him breathe in your direction, Imma bust his head down to the white meat."

Lost to your giggles, you went and plopped onto the couch as you reassured your the superstar in your life.

-------

The radio played aimlessly as you waited for your food to come up at the drive thru. Fontaine was watching the flow of traffic in front of him, when his ears perked at the music playing.

"Right in front of me?" He matched your surprised stare with his own, unimpressed one.

You floundered for a minute before tucking it behind an saccharine little grin, reaching and turning the radio up a bit louder.

"Its 9:00 on the dot I'm your green car parked on the street/ you got a real pretty pretty lil' thing that's waiting for yooooou..../ You-you pull up, anticipating good love, I won't keep you waiting/ I got plans to put your haa-aands in places you always see, boy you know what I mee-eean..."

Unbuckling your seatbelt, you threw yourself over Fontaine as much as you could, wriggling your brows as he tried to ignore you and your terrible remix.

"Gonna take me to a place nice and quiet/ so there were no one left to interrupt, ain't got to rush, you just wanna take it niiiice and sloooow..."

When you tried to kiss him, he turned his face away making you crack a bit.

"No, I don' want kisses." He said, petulant.

"Don't kiss you? I can't kiss you now?"

Saying nothing, Fontaine shifted away from you as if he was rolling over in bed and stared moodily out the window.

"Here, lemme sing to you some more, that might help-- NOW TEEEEEELLL ME, DO YOU WANNA GET FREEEAKY?"

He jumped at the sudden volume of your voice and you slapped a hand on the center of his back, sliding it every which-way as you babbled through the next few rhymes.

Giving your best show, you unzipped your hoodie and rolled your body in the passenger seat. The ruckus of it all making him turn to face you with surprise.

"What... in the Pretty Ricky is happenin' right now?"

"I'm serenading you! We can be each others Usher--

The window finally spun open and your carry out was provided. Fontaine hurried to grab the bags after handing you the drinks.

"I don't wanna be no damn Usher, girl, you lost yo' mind--can I get some straws, please?"

"They call you F-O-N-T-A-I-N and they need an' E-- now why you laughing like that at me in front of this nice Coney Island lady?"

It wasn't really a question, afterall to get that pout off his face was all you wanted.

Fontaine accepted the straws from the giggling worker and you thanked her before Fontaine pulled off and into the street.

"Yo' lil tail play too much." Fontaine eventually said, shaking his head and putting a hand onto your thigh. He was smiling, though, so at least your show was appreciated.

"Just say the word and I'll play you all the jams. Ooo, y'knowanothergoodone-- I'll be yo' grooupie, babyy, 'cause you are my suuperstah--

"Stop, stop!"

Pausing to cackle for a moment and turn the radio completely off, you went back into show mode much to the mirth of your Fontaine.

#fontaine x reader #fontaine #they cloned tyrone #fontaine x black reader #fontaine fluff

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zhongrin · 1 year

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“oh, hi.” (alternatively, “oh. ugh.”)

◇ characters ◇ (no romantic pairing) kaveh, al haitham, xiao, zhongli, diluc, kaeya, tighnari, cyno, itto, shinobu, ayato, ayaka, collei, amber

◇ tags ◇ no pairing, crack mostly

◇ a/n ◇ lmao this prompt hit me so i just had to write something about it okay?

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

you know how when a character gets added to a team, a voiceline triggers? wouldn't it be fun to have a game mechanic where, depending on who’s in your current party, whoever gets added gets special voice lines about that person?

all prompts will be in this format: “x → y” which essentially means “when x joins and y is in the party”. e.g. when kaveh joins and al haitham is in the party.

kaveh → al haitham

“ugh, not this guy! our aesthetics are ruined now! ruined, i tell you!”

“really? him?? not to be rude, but… you have bad taste.”

al haitham -> kaveh

“tsk. it's useless to say this, but... don’t pull the team down now.”

“an unwise decision. given our fighting styles, there is no need for him to be in the team.”

xiao -> zhongli

“it is my honor.”

“wh- mora- ahem. well... this is… unexpected.”

zhongli -> xiao

“at ease.”

“ah, now this is quite nostalgic.” *chuckles*

diluc -> kaeya

“try not to get in my way.”

“aren’t the knights quite busy these days? why don’t you run along and do your knightly duties now?”

kaeya -> diluc

“to think this day would come once again, huh, big brother?”

“what’s with that look, 'luc? it’s not like i’m skipping out on work~”

tighnari -> cyno

“a wise decision.”

“forewarning, if he makes one more joke, i am leaving the team. or burying him alive.”

cyno -> tighnari

“why did the fox cross the road? to catch up with the chicken… get it?”

“ah, a rare fox sighting outside gandharva village. today’s going to be a good day.”

itto -> shinobu

“yo shinobu!! whooo-hoo!!! things are gonna get crazy in here!!”

“owowowowow- hey why’re you pulling my ears already- i wasn’t getting the traveler in trouble, i swear!”

shinobu -> itto

“ah… is this why you called me in? very well.”

“boss, try not to cause too much trouble, alright?”

ayato -> ayaka

“oh? well hello, dear sister.”

“a family outing? how delightful. now this is definitely worth taking a break for.”

ayaka -> ayato

“huh?! b-brother, what are you doing here? i thought you were busy!”

“ahem. good day, big brother. i am just hanging out with a friend, is all.”

collei -> amber

“a-amber?! it’s been so long! uhm- uh- i-i have so many things i wanted to talk about with you!!”

amber -> collei

“oh my gosh, collei! hi!! you grew up so much!! i’m so glad to see that you’re doing well!”

itto -> cyno

“oh. my. god. cyno? the legendary cyno?? the master of tcg, cyno??? yooooo!!! my bro, my man, my dude, duel me!!”

cyno -> itto

“arataki…. itto…….? my apologies. am i supposed to know who you are? you don’t look like a criminal at all.”

#rin writes #rin releases a plot bunny into the wild #genshin impact #genshin #kaveh #al haitham #xiao #zhongli #diluc #kaeya #tighnari #cyno #itto #shinobu #ayato #ayaka #collei #amber

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shiemori-writes · 2 years

Text

PAIRING: Idia Shroud x reader

SUMMARY: Recently your friends have found you seemingly more distracted- you payed more attention to your phone and would always sneak out at night to go who knows where- eventually, ( Ace) they all jumped to the conclusion that you were seeing someone. Now for the real question, who exactly was your partner??

INCLUDES; First years shenanigans, gender neutral reader, established relationship, 2nd Person POV, SFW, Crack-ish fluff

Additional Notes: Here's my part of the writing collab @dulcesiabits has hosted! this was tons of fun!!!

"'s- all of this-" he gestured towards the chart

"- really necessary???" Epel questioned, raising his brow doubtfully at the redhead in question, the chart currently in front of them marking everyone at nrc who the prefect knows and has talked to.

"Hah?! What do you mean by that?! Of course it is!!" Ace huffed out, annoyed that none of them was getting it. "Y'know it's none of our business right?" Epel shot back, still skeptical about it all.

"-and besides, they would have told us if they were seeing anyone." Jack shrugged, finally voicing out his skepticism about the current situation at hand. Sebek nodded, along with deuce, all mutually agreeing that this was pointless, to Ace's dismay.

Ace let out a groan "Cmon guys! Why else would they be going out so often huh???? They barely even look at us anymore! they're always on their phone smiling!" He cried out, pointing to the chart, a determined frown on his face.

The rest of the group had started to look at each other, defeaning silence falling upon the once loud room.

"..."

"...."

"......"

"Well-...." the half fae started, his usual defeaning voice wavering. "I suppose...you are correct on that one, human. They did skip lunch with us today-" Sebek stated, trying to act unbothered, but it was evident on his face that he did miss your presence, even if just a bit.

"-And the day before that.." Deuce added, furrowing his eyebrows, pouting slightly.

"See?! And worst of all! they didn't tell us about it! I mean! We're their best friends! we should know this!" Ace yelled out, eyeing his two other friends Epel and Jack, who weren't as convinced.

"Well...I guess??? They have been on their phone more..." Epel mumbled under his breath.

Jack, (being the only sensible one) shook his head sighing.

"Well then, why not just ask them directly instead of-"

"No!!" Ace interrupted, a mischevious look on his face, pointing to the chart that he had prepared. "We'll snipe out everyone who had been talking to them more recently!" he concluded, snickering at his 'oh so genius plan'.

Jack grumbled, 'of course.' he thought to himself, an exasperated expression on his features.

Focusing at the chart in question, they all had started to discuss your potential partner, all sharing their theories and thoughts.

"..Riddle maybe..???" Deuce said, unsure of his own thoughts. You have been spending more time with him, he thought, counting back to all of the unbirthday parties you've personally helped him with, and how you two would study together sometimes.

"Ew!! no! Riddle??? Our housewarden?? No way." Ace grimaced, shuddering at the thought of you getting together with Riddle of all people. "Besides, they act like siblings! That'd be weird." He finished, shaking his head at even the slightest possibility of Riddle being your partner.

Epel sighed, marking an "x" on riddles face with a red sharpie. "That marks him out then" He said, looking at all of the people at nrc left.

Oh boy. This is gonna take a long while.

A long, long hour has passed since their little investigation had started, all of them equally tired.

"Ugh- this is pointless!" Ace cried out, looking at the chart in front of them, various red marks scattered all over the list of people. "At this rate we should've just asked them!!" he sighed, his frown deepening.

"Geez- it's like...That wasn't what Jack suggested from the very beginning" Epel deadpanned, an exhausted look on his face, a headache forming from all of this romance-nonsense.

"Shush! Anyways- all we need to do is follow them till they lead us to the culprit!"

"Stop talking like they're datin' some criminal!"

"...This is a bad idea..." Jack grumbled under his breath, ears drooping down as he frowned. "Shh! quiet down! they're gonna hear us!" Ace hissed in a hushed tone. Before the two could start bickering, they quieted down when they heard your voice accompanied with Grims cheers, now listening intently to the two of you.

"Nyahaha! I told ya he'd beat ya at that game! your artifacts 're nothing compared to him!"

Grim cheered, laughing at your loss as you

glared at him. "Aren't you supposed to be cheering me on?! You were even freaking out when I told you we were together!!" You cried out, exasperated by your friends behaviour. "Hmmm,, well! Yeah...But," He stroked his chin as if deep in thought and pointed his finger at you. "-He promised me he'd buy me tuna if he won! So I approve of him now!" He finished, snickering as you look at him as if you were about to commit murder.

Sighing, you defeatedly pulled out your phone when you heard your notifs go off.

Ping!

"You can always win next time ;) But your artifacts are just...sad,,,I can come there to get you better ones k?"

Ping!

"..I mean- given its only you and Grim there..Right????"

You read the message, a smile forming your features as you imagined Idia fumbling over his messages with a flustered look, laughing quietly you sent your boyfriend a response.

"Yep yep!! I'll set up the game rn!"

Read: 5:56PM

Putting your phone down, you were about to set up the equipment when you were interrupted by a loud voice.

"AHA!!!"

Ace was the first one to yell out, appearing suddenly inside your room as the others showed themselves as well. Causing you (and Grim) to shriek in terror.

"Ace?!!" You and Grim simultaneously yelled out as your clutched your shirt in an attempt to make your heart beat calm down.

"-And everyone else?! What are you even doing here??!" You questioned, the unexpected guests in your room now looking at each other with a guilty look on their face as you waited impaitently for an answer.

"Hah?? Shouldn't we be the one asking questions????" Ace narrowed his eyes at you, a betrayed expression painted on his face.

"Ehhh? what are you on about?" Grim shot back, confused (and annoyed) by his friends sudden appearance.

"You didn't tell us you had a boyfriend!" He replied offended, pointing his finger at you. Your eyes widened at the reply, making a silent "oh" with your mouth with Grim snickering at their reasoning.

"..Oh- I uh- never told you..???" You said sheepishly, looking at your friend group with a guilty expression. Ace nodded frantically as the others did as well. "Uh yeah! you've been skipping lunch with us- and ditching our hangouts, and worst of all you didn't even tell us why!" He cried out

"Wh- hey!! I did tell you guys!" You offendedly shot back at him

"Well..-You did say you were with a friend.." Deuce muttered, "Which was a lie!" Ace finished, refusing to look at you. Shaking your head at his antics, you simply stated that you were friends, until recently so. Causing him to gaze at your direction again. "Oh." Was all he said as the others glared at him. "Yeah- "oh." Now- was that all you wanted to talk about? I kinda have a-"

"Wait! you never told us who it was!" Deuce suddenly yelled, as Ace nodded his head approvingly. "We've sorta been guessin' for an hour now." Epel stated, embarrassed to admit what they've been doing for the past hour. Sebek was the one to yell out this time. "Human! You have yet to tell us who is courting you! I bet they aren't even worthy of you! Unless, of course they're Lord Malleus..B-but even so!"

Jack, being the only sensible one calmly asked

"Who are you dating, prefect?" He raised his brow, anticipating your answer.

"Oh- It's actually-"

Hearing the door open behind you, followed by a confused scream, everyone immediately turn their heads towards the person in question.

"Ah! Idia!! you're here!" You greeted him, apologizing for your friends sudden visit, knowing he likes being alone.

Grabbing his hand gently, you finished your sentence. "It's Idia!" You proudly stated, earning a confused "huh?!" from everyone as your boyfriend in question had melted from the intense glares of disbelief of your friends, now hiding behind you, his hair tinted in a shade of pink., overwhelmed by the chaos surrounding him.

"IT'S IDIA?!????"

They all yelled in unison as Ace slid to the ground, followed by Sebek shaking his head disaprovingly, Epel currently questioning your taste in men, Deuce congratulating you (even if he's still shocked) and Jack sighing exasperatedly at everyone.

Shaking your head at their antics, you return your focus onto Idia, who could only mutter out one thing;

"Idia.exe has malfunctioned."

"H-huh? Idia are yo-IDIA PASSED OUT!!!"

"MYAHHH!! THEY KILLED MY TUNA SUPPLIER!!!"

Author's Notes: Man I thought writing for idia would be easy since I kin him sobs; I do love Idia vv much- Our local shut in deserves some love too! though I did get writers block halfway through, so I hope this is still a good read despite that!

#twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #idia x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #twisted wonderland idia shroud #ace trappola #twst deuce #twst ace #jack howl #epel felmier #sebek zigvolt #deuce spade

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etheries1015 · 20 days

Text

Dom!Sariel x needy!reader

18+ Minors DNI

for my IRL best friend who is #1 Sariel fan, hope you liked this bestie I love you

General warnings: Fem pronouns, AFAB reader, reader is more forward than MC in-game.

TW: Aphrodisiac, Face fucking, whipping, spanking, Dacryphilia, hair pulling, almost being caught

After not meeting expectations for a recent exam given by the Minister himself and your lover, you were surprised to see instead of his typical chastising, Sariel sits you down with a cup of tea. Unbeknownst to you, the true punishment lie at the bottom of the teacup... where he snuck a particularly strong aphrodisiac.

"What is the name of the 4th king of Rhodolite, and what is he known for?" A seductive voice inquired, looking down at your naked body stomach down and back arched upon the very desk you had failed your exam on. Your wrists were bound together and your legs spread by the force of Sariels strong arms, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his cock. With your cheeks flushed red and beads of sweat covering your trembling body, it was obvious to any on-looker that you were not focused on the words coming out of his mouth.

"I- urgh-" You whined, "Don't know- fuck..." You let out a high-pitched moan as you tried to move your ass in an attempt to deepen his length inside of you, a desperate attempt to fill the emptiness that was itching for the comfort of your lover. Sariel 'tsked' and hummed in disappointment, completely removing himself from the warmth between your legs leaving you complaining about his absence. You attempted to move your head to flash him a needy stare, however, he pushed your head back down to the wood with a look of condensation.

"Uh-uh-uh..." Sariel sang, "I did not give you permission to move." You heard the familiar crack of a whip with a stinging left upon your ass that you had become tolerant to. That didn't make it sting any less, though. You yelped in surprise, going to scoot away from the black-haired devil before his hands wrapped around the outside of your thighs and roughly pulled you back with his hands. Without saying a word, he whipped you once more with a choked-out sob and moan leaving your body confused between the line of pleasure and pain. He frequented the use of his whip, but with the added sensitivity of the drink he had given you left your body in such a state of desire and sensitivity that it was particularly a strange sensation. The way the stinging left you wetter with every snap of his whip despite the pain it was supposed to bring, the hairs on your body standing on edge with great anticipation of every new mark he left upon your skin.

"This aphrodisiac is far more effective than I gave Prince Keith credit for..." Sariel smiled with satisfaction, using a gloved hand to spread the lips of your entrance and watch as your glistening slick substance dripped from your twitching hole. "If I hadn't known better, I would have mistaken you for a bitch in heat," instead of entering his fingers into you as you had hoped he would, instead you heard footsteps back and you turned your head in an attempt to peek at what he was doing. It was obvious he was teasing you, not giving you the fullness you desired, and completely disregarding your begs and whines. He could tell you were becoming more and more agitated every time he would touch you without gratifying you fully, the annoyance showing in your defiant glare.

Sariel folded his arms and looked down at you with a smirk and eyes of mischief, taking his whip out once more and caressing the handle of it.

"Since that question was so hard, I'll give you another chance. But I caution you to think through it wisely," he hummed, using the popper of the whip to glide gently as a warning against your sore bottom.

"This is- ugh," You huffed, "This is dumb! I'm sorry I got the exam wrong, but this is just cruel," You whined, your arms and knees throbbing from holding your body up, "Please Sariel, please fuck me, It burns, I need something in me..." You whined. Raising an eyebrow, Sariel bit his bottom lip at such a needy and desperate display. It wasn't often you were as vocal with your needs, the filth that was drawing out of your typically collected lips caused him to harden almost in an instant.

"If I simply gave into what you want," He held back his urge to ravish you right then and there, adjusting himself where he stood in front of your face, "Then that would defeat the entire purpose of your punishment. You failed your exam, and now you must pay the price for it...I'm disappointed in you, you know?" He pointed out, grabbing your hair and pulling your head towards his throbbing cock.

"Let us make a compromise, then. If you do well in this task, then I will give you what you want. Does that sound fair?" Without so much as a complaint coming out and only eager to receive what you were craving, you were almost too eager to open your mouth and take in his length. He chuckled at such a pathetically needy display, groaning as the warmth of your mouth engulfed him as far as you could go.

"I know you can do better than that," Sariel let out a groan from the back of his throat, gently wiping the tears that pricked the side of your eyes as you attempted to take him further. He used his thumb to rub your cheek with the affection of a man you wouldn't have guessed had tricked you into drinking an aphrodisiac, such small gestures leaving your legs like jelly and your stomach riddled with butterflies.

That kindness was short-lived, and you now realize was sweetness disguised as an early apology for what was yet to come. Pursing his lips and sweat beading his forehead, Sariel seemed to have reached his breaking point as he used both of his hands to grab the back of your head, forcing it down on his cock. He began to fuck your throat with reckless abandon, the sounds of wetness and gagging filling the air and tears streaming down your eyes. Watching you become an entire mess with your makeup smearing and your mixed liquids wetting your lips and cheeks, Sariel came almost embarrassingly fast. He let out a deep and uncharacteristically loud moan as he pulled out of your mouth, releasing himself over your face. You coughed aggressively and didn't have a moment to chastise your lover before he was already pulling out a handkerchief and rubbing your face apologetically.

"You did well," He said with honey coating his voice, "would you like your reward now? Or shall we stop here? I understand I was a bit-"

"Please!" You were quick to answer, "I've been asking you this whole time, please, fill me up! I need you," You whined. Sariel raised an almost surprised eyebrow before chuckling at your neediness and planting a chaste kiss on your lips, throwing the dirtied handkerchief to the side and moving to the other side of the table where your ass remained arched for him, showing off your dripping cunt enticing him to plunge inside. He pulled the top half of your body off of the desk, where your feet were now touching the ground. This made it much easier to have access to you as he pleased, lining up the tip of his cock to your entrance. Rubbing circles around your hole and spreading around your slick, he thrust forward gliding his cock on the outside of your lips to lubricate himself with your sticky substance, another needy complaint coming from you.

"Stop teasing me already and-" Your squabbling was interrupted as fast as it started, Sariel pushing himself all at once deep inside of your drenched pussy. You let out a moan and a shiver of relief, feeling full just as your body had craved. The pleasure was short-lived, for soon after beginning your moans were muffled by a hand shooting over your mouth and his hips stopped his movements against yours. You were about to protest before he whispered in your ear to be silent as footsteps sounded outside the door.

"Nobody was scheduled to be around my office this time...how annoying," Sariel grumbled. You would have put more thought into that statement if you weren't so distracted by his hips slowly and intimately grinding into you, hand still over your mouth.

"I suppose that means you'll just have to be cautious in your volume. If you make a single sound louder than permitted, we will get caught. Do you understand?" Giving him a weak nod simply to appease him, he kissed your head with a "Good girl" prior to his hips picking up in speed. His threats had little meaning as the low voices and tapping feet outside of the room faded down the hallway without even a glance to the door where such sinful acts were taking place, and you were almost certain you were now in the clear. Especially with the way the dark-haired man snapped his hips against yours, it was obvious it was empty words with little regard. He was acting as if he had been the one to drink the aphrodisiac, ironically the man who had done the planning to make you needy was acting as a wild animal drunk on the way your walls clenched down on his cock.

"It seems," He grunted, "perhaps the properties of the aphrodisiac make you much warmer inside...hah..." The slapping of skin filled the room, yet the fear of someone walking in was the least of your worries. He skillfully removed the ties around your wrists before pulling your arms back, lifting the top of your body roughly ravishing you as if he were a man starved of touch for days on end. You were in no better of shape, despite the throbbing of your knees and the film of sweat covering your exhausted body, your mind was blank with nothing but pleasure electrifying from where your lover took his place between your thighs.

tilting his head back and pulling you by your hips against his as he moaned with pursed lips, closing his eyes while his cock twitched inside your walls while your legs trembled with release. High-pitched moans elicited your lips as ropes of cum painted your swollen insides white, Sariel pulling out to watch your body practically collapsed to the ground. He swiftly caught you in his arms, smiling gently and planting a kiss of affection upon your forehead. You panted and looked up at your lover with lidded eyes fluttering shut, Sariel stroking your hair apologetically.

"You did well," He hummed with love honeying his voice, "Shall we clean you up now, my dear? And I believe a true reward is in store for your wonderful performance..."

You really did get the princess treatment afterward. After getting your clothes on he cleans up the mess left behind by your...endeavors, Sariel helped you back to your room where he bathed you and pampered your body with medicine and love. About two hours later with the effects fully worn off, you were lying in bed resting in his arms, talking about the effects of the aphrodisiac and how exactly it made you feel. You complained about the way he teased you when you felt so needy and at the mercy of his touch, the way that your body ached to have him inside of you yet his endless teasing leaving you feeling...well, words that you were not even able to properly convey.

You huffed, noticing the way he seemed to not fully grasp the extreme in which you had just gone through. Frustrated at his lack of understanding, you twisted a proposal to him.

"Next time, You're drinking that fucking potion."

#Ikemen prince #Ikemen prince smut #Ikepri #Ikepri smut #ikemen prince x reader #Sariel noir #Sariel noir smut #Sariel noir x reader #Ikepri sariel #Ikepri sariel x reader #Sariel ikepri #Ikemen prince x reader smut #ikepri x reader smut

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sneezingfetishftw-fics · 24 days

Text

Insufferable (5/7)

Getting close to the endgame here, I think! I’ve been excited about this chapter of the Vox sickfic for a while. Previous chapters: 1 2 3 4

Next chapters: 6 7

Wavs: 1 3

————————————————

If Velvette believed in prayer, she would be praying for a miracle right now. Of course, ending up in hell tended to make one think that any god would be unlikely to help out. So she resigned herself to hoping for a new development.

When Vox stumbled out from the bedroom, he was lacking all of the enthusiasm and energy he’d had the previous times. His screen was full of tiny cracks, though it was unclear if this was a broken screen or just a malfunctioning display. The center of his screen had a bright spot but everything else was dull. “Ugh, what time is it?”

“Morning, Vox. It’s 10.”

“Shit,” he said, rubbing his sore head. “Didn’t I have an interview today?”

Velvette shook her head. “That was yesterday, and it’s already taken care of. All you need to do is rest, love.”

Vox sighed and collapsed on the couch, as if he had used up all of the day’s energy just by standing and saying a few words. “I feel fucking awful.”

Velvette just nodded. “I know.”

“And I just…” he paused, turning his head around the room. “Where’s that radio coming from? Why the fuck is there a radio in here?”

“I’m not hearing anything,” Velvette said. “And besides, there’s no more functioning electronics in this room anyway.”

“I could have sworn I heard… hhh’tzzzch!” A small shower of sparks fell from his screen.

“And that’s why there’s no functioning electronics in this room,” she added, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “How’s that virus scan coming?” she asked, approaching his display.

“I have a virus?” Vox’s face froze, not like a broken program but rather like a shattered hope.

“And memory loss.”

“You sure you don’t hear that radio?”

She shook her head. “And hallucinations, apparently.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Val asked, walking in.

“Val, please tell me you hear that fucking obnoxious radio static.”

Val raised an eyebrow. “What the fuck are you talking about? All I hear is your fans whirring like a helicopter.”

“Fucking hell, I can hear his cackling too. Buzzing static and maniacal laughter and… heh’TZZZZCHT! Constant irritation.” He clawed at his arms. Valentino left the room and came back with an anti-itch lotion, rubbing it in generously. “Thanks, Val, but I don’t think that’s actually doing anything.”

Valentino shrugged. “Worth a try. Speaking of worth a try…” he found the volume controls on Vox’s side and turned them down. “Do you still hear the static now?” Vox’s mouth moved in response, but no sound emerged. “Damn it, he’s lost his voice again!” He blew some smoke into Vox’s vents and Velvette stared at him incredulously.

“You turned his speakers down, idiot! Of course you can’t hear him!” It was very strange to watch Vox sneeze with no sound. Just the flickering screen, the odd facial expressions, and the flurry of sparks. Eventually, she turned the volume back up just in time to catch the tail end of the fit.

“HHHH’TDDZZZZZSH! Heh’TZZZCHT! Hhh’TTTTZZZZZZCHHH!” Vox deliberately aimed the last few at Val to express his discomfort, and the other jumped from the shock. “Thanks for nothing,” he groaned, clawing at his throat. He grimaced and launched into a hacking cough, looking incredibly frustrated and confused when it was done. “You guys didn’t suddenly adopt a pet while I was asleep, did you?” Velvette and Val both shook their heads. “And Val, you haven’t seen Angel recently?”

“No, why?”

“Because I have the distinct sensation of fur in my mouth and it just won’t go away no matter what I do. Fucking gross.”

A warning popped up on Vox’s screen. “Sensors appear to be malfunctioning.” Yeah, no shit. Vox’s fans kicked into an even higher gear than the Vees had thought possible and he began to shiver so violently Velvette wondered if he was going to shut down for the fourth time since this disaster began.

“V-V-V-V-V-V…” Velvette and Val made eye contact with each other and then with Vox, having no way to tell which of them he was calling for. “V-V-Val, c-c-could you get me some… hhh’tzzzsh! S-s-some w-water?” Val nodded and came back with a cup of warm water. He handed it to Vox, whereupon it promptly fell out of the weak grip of the TV demon’s trembling hands. “Sorry.” Val began cleaning up the spill and winced when a sneeze from Vox electrocuted him through the puddle. “Sorry again.”

Velvette searched the cupboards for a pitcher with a spout, then filled it with more warm water and poured it into Vox’s mouth. She had to pause a few times to let him swallow, but eventually all the water was in his system. A small smile spread across his dim screen and he seemed a little calmer, though still clearly quite pathetic and uncomfortable.

His eyes went wide as he stared at a spot in the room. “Wait, what? Alastor… no. No, he can’t be here. There’s no way he’d get past security. It’s just… why does it feel so real?” He buried his face in the couch, trying to dull his senses but nothing worked. He began crying again, this time deep, wracking sobs that shook the whole couch as his fist pounded limply against the pillow. “Please, God, no! I can’t do this anymore!” Valentino’s eyes flitted towards the guns, but Velvette shook her head. Vox looked up at both of them, his screen crackling with energy that was somehow both weak and desparate. “How the hell am I supposed to deal with this?”

Before either of them could formulate a response, another warning popped up on the screen. “Virus removal has been halted due to insufficient resources. Recommend upgrading to stronger anti-virus protection… Checking for updates… No updates available. Try again later.” From the way Vox’s face fell so far it was practically off screen, it was clear he was aware of the message. “No! Please! I can’t… I’ll do anything!”

“Oh ho ho, anything, you say? This will be fun.” Velvette and Val winced as the voice rang out through the room, first from the sheer volume of it and then from the realization that now they could hear it too. This was far from the new development Velvette had been hoping for. But it was the new development they would have to face.

#my snezfic #snezbin hotel #I’m so nervous about the next chapter like I’ve had the idea for this twist for a while but actually writing it is nerve wracking #so pls be patient cause it may take me a while #and also your own theories and prompts are welcome as they may help with writers block or at least be fun to read lol #fun fact: shivering & stuttering & pouring water cause too weak to hold a cup happened irl last week #when I went to visit my FWB cause he was having a really bad allergy day

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papyrusxii · 1 month

Text

casual - jeon jungkook

synopsis : never could you imagine falling so quickly for someone without his intentions being clear

pairing : jeon jungkook x reader

genre : casual relationship, pining, relationship development

warnings : explicit material, drug and alcohol use, tobacco use, angst

cross posted on ao3 : papyrusxii

one

2.2k words

masterlist

The crisp air and mid-November rain blew completely through you. Standing there soaked, you witnessed the steam rolling off your engulfed apartment building. That apartment building that you worked so hard to afford, that you decorated meticulously, and that held so many of your young adulthood memories.

Four firetrucks and a hoard of firemen surrounded the building as you and the other tenants watched the flames roar. You sat on the curb of the sidewalk perpendicular to your apartment, swaddled in a thin blanket one of the paramedics gave you.

Luckily, you hadn’t been in the building when it caught fire; you were just pulling into the parking lot. You tried to pull the wet hair away from your heavy-laden eyes to pull out your phone.

Not mom. She can’t do anything in another country.

Ugh… not my brother; he's on vacation.

Oh! Hoseok!

You quickly dialed your best friend, hoping he would be awake.

“Hello?” He groaned over the phone. “Everything alright? It’s 2 a.m.”

Oh, thank God. “Bless you, beautiful boy." You sighed in relief. “We have a slight issue.”

You heard him shuffling around in bed. “What’s wrong?” His once-tired voice was now filled with worry.

“My apartment is in flames.” You giggled as you reflected on the absurdity of the situation. Silence filled the call before Hoseok screamed as the realization set in. “In flames? What the fuck? Are you safe?”

“I appreciate your concern, but I’m okay—just soaked, cold, and mourning my material possessions.”

He sighed. “I’m glad you’re okay and sorry about all that. How can I help you, love?”

It was in times like these that you couldn’t be more grateful for Jung Hoseok. He should win an award for every time he saved your ass and gave you a dependable shoulder to lean upon. Why he wasn’t your first thought on who to call was honestly absurd. He was your personal Superman.

“The cops and firefighters told us all to find a place to stay while they investigate and work out the insurance logistics with the landlord. Now I know you just moved in not even a week ago, but do you think I could stay with you until the dust settles? I’ll pay rent too, and even grocery shopping—I know you hate it.” You smiled, even though he couldn’t see it.

“Y/n, it’s no problem at all. You are more than welcome here, and don’t even think about paying me. Now get out of the rain and come over immediately.” Hoseok reassured you beyond belief, and suddenly a sense of calmness coaxed you into the middle of the madness.

“Thank you, Hobi. I’m feeling a bit calmer.” You sighed in relief.

“Good. Now hurry over. I love you.”

----

Not even twenty minutes had passed, and you were at Hoseok’s door. You had only ever been over the day he moved in, a week ago, to help him unpack. You had barely been acclimated to the new space, adding another wave of nervousness.

At this hour, the hallway was calm, and you weren’t used to how spotless it was. The hallway of your apartment always had a tinge of grime or business, juxtaposed to the beautiful, almost regal nature of your best friend’s.

You knocked on the deep blue door gently and readjusted the sack on your back.

The door cracked slowly, and you grew with anticipation to bask in the comfort of your best friend, only to be greeted by an unfamiliar face.

Stepping back slightly, you observed the stranger in front of you. A man you had never seen pierced your gaze. His lousy position and bare-bones attire led you to believe he had just woken up. His black hair reached just past the nape of his neck, led askew by the imprints of sleep upon it. He adjusted his oversize white t-shirt and rubbed his eyes before greeting you.

Your once relaxed manner was replaced with a timid stance. How could you forget he had a freaking roommate? Hoseok informed you before he moved in that his friend had a buddy that was new to the area and also needed an apartment and a roommate to share costs. Your best friend’s and the stranger’s mutual needs led them to room together. You hadn’t met him when you first visited the apartment because he was due to move in later in the week. From what Hoseok told you of the man who stood in front of you, he was tidy, charming, and chill as hell, yet in his presence, you couldn’t help the rising anxiety.

His eyes trailed down your body, still clothed in your work attire and dirty from the gross fluids that spewed from the hundreds of patients you had seen in the last 12 hours. His face slightly cringed as he eyed the stain on your abdomen: vomit. “Hey.” You broke the odd tension with the stranger.

“I’m Y/N; I’m not sure if Hoseok told you, but I-” He interrupted, quickly changing his posture to straighten. "Yeah, he told me you’d be staying with us. I’m sorry to hear about your apartment; that’s awful.” He shook his head.

His voice calmed you instantaneously. It’s smooth tone coated you like warm honey and caught your breath. His words chipped away at the unease that plagued your thoughts of the initial meeting, leaving you with more ease to enter the apartment.

He stepped away from the door and motioned you in. “J is in the bathroom; he’ll be out in a second. You can set your bags on the couch for the time being, and I’ll get you a drink.” His tone remained deep and crunchy in the late hours of the night but lifted when he smiled at you.

You nodded and sunk into the couch you helped build last week. Good taste, Hobi.

Your eyes scanned the apartment slowly until your friend’s roommate returned with a bottle of iced tea. “He told me you liked tea.” You looked up at his extended hand and dipped your head in thanks. You didn’t even know his name, and he already knew one of the smallest details about you.

He sat in the large chair next to the couch and glanced at you as you drank from the bottle. “This is good.” You smiled toward him. He nodded with a small smile in return. “I don’t think I introduced myself properly; I’m Jeon Jungkook.” His name….

As he said his name, you recalled Hoseok mentioning it once while he was unpacking, and you felt stupid for forgetting. “That’s right, nice to meet you, Jungkook. Sorry for interrupting your peaceful sleep.” You let out a small chuckle.

He leaned back in the chair and said, “Don’t worry about it; I wasn’t getting much of it anyway." You raised your eyebrows at his statement but left it alone with an awkward nod. After a moment of silence, Jungkook spoke again: “You work at the hospital, right?” He leaned forward, keeping eye contact.

“Yeah.” You gulped. “Sorry about these awful scrubs; it was a rough night.” You dipped your head.

“Stop apologizing.” He laughed. “You had a long and stressful night; I couldn’t even imagine. You’re more than welcome here, and I’m sure you need a second to even catch your breath.”

Wow. How could a stranger’s words be so comforting?

Maybe it was the stress of the situation that allowed you to cling so easily to his kind words, but you appreciated them more than he could understand. “Thank you. Yeah, I could really use a moment of peace.” You laughed.

“You deserve it.” You smiled at his words as he leaned back, closing his eyelids.

You heard a door open from behind you, and you turned your head over the back of the couch to see your best friend. He was shirtless and wearing a pair of pajama pants. He decided to jump over the back of the couch and on top of you. He pinned your body to the gray cushions and tightened his grip. Your breath compressed as he squeezed.

You saw Jungkook stifle a laugh out of the corner of your eye upon you and your best friend’s exchange.

He finally lifted himself from you and pulled you across his chest. “Hey, Y/n.” You smiled in the safety of his arms. Oh, you loved him. Your best friend was yet again raising your comfort level with his gesture of affection.

“Thank you for letting her in.” He directed it to his roommate.

“No problem.” He opened his eyes and winked. You didn’t like how that wink made your breath catch again in his presence. “She’s been keeping me company.” He smiled.

Hoseok nodded. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?” You rolled your eyes and smacked his bare chest.

“Stop, Hobi. The “amazing title” should go to you both for waking up at 3 a.m. to welcome me.” You sighed again as you reflected on your situation. You really couldn’t believe your apartment was gone. It was the first big thing you had purchased on your own, and it showed your hard work was paying off. Now it was all gone.

Jungkook realized the shift in your demeanor as you lost yourself in worry. “Hey, why don’t you grab a shower? I’ll get you a towel.” He lifted himself from the chair and disappeared into the hallway. You gave your friend one squeeze and then went to meet Jungkook by the linen closet.

He pulled a small chain, and the small closet was illuminated. He leaned down to grab you a towel and a washcloth. He arose with them in hand and led you to their bathroom. As you entered the space, you looked over the simple decor. The marble countertop was adorned with two small bags, which you assumed held the toiletries for each of the men. The shower was a tempered glass box that added to the modern simplicity of the room.

He slid open the shower door, which revealed the different soaps and shampoos on a metal shelf in the corner. “Here are all of our soaps and stuff. Mine are on the top shelf, and Hoseok’s are on the bottom. Feel free to use either, but I will say mine are better quality; you know, Hoseok just buys whatever catches his eye first.” You chuckled as you recall shopping with him once and seeing him pull a kid Spider-Man body wash, claiming “the bubbles made him feel like a kid again.”.

“Thank you, Jungkook. I really appreciate your kindness.” You smiled at him.

If you weren’t looking for it, you wouldn’t have caught his ears turning red after you smiled. “No problem; I don’t want my ambiguity to deter you from being at home here.”

“Don’t worry, you seem pretty cool from what I’ve gathered.”

“I hope to maintain that impression, Y/n.” He let the biggest grin you’d seen from him thus far grace his lips. His two lip rings caught between his lips, and you noticed his prominent cheeks. “I’ll get you something to wear and then have at it.” He exited.

Twenty minutes later, you felt beyond refreshed. Jungkook’s lavender shampoo and aloe body wash coaxed you into a feeling of relaxation; you commended the male’s choices. He had fetched a pair of his clothes, which you thanked him for: a pair of basketball shorts and a very large t-shirt that adorned the logo for the Korean national football team.

You exited the bathroom to see your best friend knocked out on the couch and Jungkook scrolling on his phone in the same spot he was earlier. The man heard you enter the room and looked to see you. “Thank you again for letting me borrow your clothes; you could have just given me Hoseok’s.” You began.

“He would have slaughtered me if I picked out something he wanted to wear at any point this week.” He chuckled. “That color looks good on you anyway." He nodded to the red shirt that lay over you. You bit your lip and looked to the ceiling, “Thank you.”

He stood up, “I’m sure you’re tired, and I don’t know what sleeping arrangement you and J discussed, but feel free to sleep in his bed as he’s hogging up the whole couch.” You laughed quietly as you observed the position your friend was in—one leg off the side of the couch and the other nearly to his chest—and using his hands as a pillow.

“Of course.” You smiled. “Again, thank you for everything; it means the world.”

He put his hand in the pockets of his pants and rocked back, “No problem, get some sleep. It was nice to meet you; I can see why he admires you so much.”

Jungkook’s compliment just added to your growing impression of the stranger. He offered up a drink, his shower products, and his clothing to someone he’d never met before and who interrupted his night. You couldn’t help but already admire him and his seemingly selfless attributes. “Thank you; sleep well!”

You disappeared into Hobi’s room and melted into his sheets, no longer reflecting on how awful the events of today had been but now reminiscing on the warm impressions you felt from Jeon Jungkook.

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takingchences · 6 months

Text

ultraviolet pt. 4 - BAKUGOU

A descendant of a legendary quirk longs to separate herself from her family name, but first she'll have to confront villains, ghosts from the past, and her growing attraction for Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x OP!fem!oc

Warnings: mature language

series masterlist + face claim

Watching the two rivals battle it out was difficult.

Midoriya had started out strong, having managed to gain the upper hand at the start of the exercise by anticipating Bakugou's attacks. The tables quickly turned, however, when the explosive teen demonstrated the power of his gauntlets. The force of the blast sent a tremor throughout the entire building, forcing Sana to stand closer to Kirishima. He was her best shot at making it out alive should the building collapse above their heads.

The heat released from the blast made her shiver.

"Sir, isn't this getting outta hand?" Kirishima tried to reason with the seasoned hero. "That Bakugou is acting real crazy. He's gonna kill him!"

All Might, with a practiced smile on his face, chose not to interfere in the fight other than to warn the angry blonde that if he used such a dangerous attack again, his team would automatically lose.

I hope our newbie teacher knows what he's doing, Sana held her clasped hands to her chest anxiously. Though everyone but All Might and their teammates were unable to hear what exactly the two boys were saying, it was clear from the footage that things were getting much too heated for a simple exercise.

"You okay?" Mina whispered, placing a comforting hand on her arm.

"Just nervous," Sana quickly dismissed her concern. Mina nodded in agreement, her bubblegum curls bouncing with the movement.

"Yeah. Bakugou really isn't letting up, huh?"

Midoriya went to punch, but in one fluid motion, Bakugou launched into the air and maneuvered himself behind the smaller boy. He set off an explosion against the greenette's unprotected back, making several in the class gasp.

"What was that move?"

"He doesn't come off as a guy with a strategy, but he's actually quite intelligent." Shoto voiced from the back of the crowd, momentarily pulling their attention away from the moniter. "He changed his trajectory while in midair using a blast that doubled as a smokescreen." The dual-quirk user explained. He added in a quieter tone, as if speaking more to himself now, "Very clever."

"A feint attack like that requires an extreme amount of precision." Momo agreed. "He had to calculate the physics and demonstrate control over his Quirk."

Kaminari, of course, was put off by the positive comments. "Ugh, Bakugou is uber talented." His shoulders slumped. "I hate it."

Me too, Sana nibbled on her lower lip.

Smoke rose from Midoriya's damaged costume. Bakugou, without hesitation, slammed his heavy-looking gear into Midoriya's arm. He then grabbed hold of said arm and released smaller blasts with his free hand for momentum before tossing the green-haired boy over his shoulder like a rag doll, much like Midoriya had done to him at the start of the match.

Sana had to turn away at the brutality Bakugo was displaying. He could've easily ended the exercise by now. He'd had enough opportunities to use the capture tape on Midoriya, which meant he was dragging the fight out on purpose.

He was enjoying this.

"This is hard to watch." Mina's voice cracked, as if she were close to crying. Her hand grasped Sana's sleeve tightly. "All he has to do is wrap tape around him, not kill him!"

"Bakugou is certainly acting like a villain," Tokoyami added from his shaded spot by the wall.

So much violence, Sana closed her eyes. All because of some stupid grudge. Midoriya pushed himself up shakily, half running and half crawling away from the beastly Bakugou.

"He's running away."

"Not very manly, but he doesn't have a choice." The rocky redhead sighed. "He's outgunned. Unless he's got some kinda plan."

It's possible, Sana acknowledged. She could tell that Midoriya was very observant and analytical, but he also seemed like the type of person to jump headfirst into danger without thinking. She wasn't sure if he even knew what he was going to do next.

Midoriya stopped, his back pressed against the wall. The two exchanged words before sprinting full-force towards one another. The veins in Midoriya's arm seemed to glow, like her's sometimes did if she used quirk for an extended period of time. "This can't end well," Sana bit her nail.

Even All Might looked nervous now. "Both of you, stop-" The Pro seemed to cut himself off.

Instead of aiming for Bakugou, Midoriya directed his attack upwards, blowing a hole through the center of the building. Uraraka used her quirk to levitate over the hole and capture the weapon, bringing the first mock battle to an end.

"The hero team... WINS!"

The class watched as Midoriya was carted away to Recovery Girl's office. "The losers are practically untouched, and the winners are both on the ground." Kaminari commented, scratching his head.

"This class is intense." Sana nodded dazedly.

All Might left to retrieve their classmates. The next battle would take place in a new building since the current one was now unusable. The hero returned shortly with Uraraka, Iida, and a shell-shocked Bakugou. He obviously wasn't taking the loss well.

The shattered look on his face made Sana's chest tighten. No matter how annoyed she was with him at the moment, she wouldn't wish such a feeling on anyone. But maybe, in this case, it was for the best. Bakugou needed to learn where his starting line was in order to improve, instead of assuming he'd already won before the race had even begun.

"Well, despite the results, the MVP of this exercise is Young Iida!" His announcement was met with confusion, Iida himself being the most surprised of all.

"Shouldn't it be one of the heroes instead, since they're the winners?" Tsuyu questioned.

"Mm! Valid question. Why didn't I choose one of those two? Who has a guess?"

"Sir! I can tell you why!" Momo volunteered before launching into a lengthy speech on how Iida embraced the challenge, unlike his partner who was too blinded by his hatred of Midoriya to focus on the real challenge; protecting the weapon.

I tried to warn him, Sana moved her eyes to the now quiet blonde, his eyes wide and downcast. Though I don't think an "I told you so" is what he needs right now.

"As you pointed out earlier, launching a large‐scale attack indoors was a foolish move. It could have been disastrous. Similarly," the girl continued. "Midoriya's plan was also poorly thought out, considering the amount of damage that he received. He rendered himself helpless. Not smart. As for Uraraka... She let her guard down mid‐battle, and her final attack was far too reckless given the hypothetical stakes. If she'd treated the fake weapon as though it were real, she never would've risked using such an imprecise move."

"Iida was fully prepared for his opponent's arrival. He had a strategy, and never lost sight of his mission to protect the dummy weapon, even if he was foiled in the end. Technically, the hero team won, yes, but they took advantage of the fact that this was training. They didn't respect the spirit of the trial."

Iida was sparkling after receiving such praise.

"Yes... well, you overlooked a few things." All Might stumbled over his words. "Young Iida could have relaxed a little bit in the exercise, but... otherwise, you nailed it!" He gave Momo a thumbs up.

"Let's move on to the next match!" All Might exclaimed after arriving at the next battleground. "Think about everything we saw and discussed as you tackle this training for yourself."

"Yes, sir!" Class 1-A shouted.

The Number One hero drew lots again, holding the letters up for all to see. "Match two! Team B will be our heroes! And Team I will be the villains!"

So, Hagakure and I will go up against...

People often say that God has a sense of humor and they would be right. Because the hero team consisted of Shoji and the very last person she wanted to see right now, let alone fight: Shoto Todoroki.

You've gotta be kidding me.

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

A radio, a map of the building, and capture tape were the only items they were given to prepare, as well as a head start so that "the villains" could hide their weapon.

"Hey, Sakano." Her teammate called. "I'm gonna take off all my clothes and totally disappear."

"It won't make a difference," Sana replied matter-of-factly, tightening the ribbon holding her hair back. "He'll make his move before you make it out the door."

"Are you okay?" Hagakure asked hesitantly. "You seem... different."

No, Sana wanted to say. She felt like laughing and crying hysterically as she hugged her knees and rocked in a corner. I have to put my feelings aside. I'd be a hypocrite if I lectured Bakugou about controlling his emotions and didn't take my own advice. Her nails dug into the flesh of her palms as her fists clenched in suppressed anger. It's just like when we used to train together, she reminded herself. Only this time, he's not my only opponent.

"I'm fine," Sana brushed the question off.

They settled for hiding the weapon on the highest floor. The room was empty, so it left a lot of open space to defend and only one exit to escape through. The large windows behind them let plenty of sunlight in, which would come in handy once their teacher gave them permission to start.

"You can ditch the gloves. But for now, keep your shoes on." The light-powered girl sensed her teammate's uncertainty. "Trust me."

"Look alive, kids!" The Symbol of Peace's thundering voice boomed through their earpieces. "Show us you're the embodiment of good." He paused, realizing his mistake. "Or evil! Let's go!"

Sana immediately channeled her quirk, urging the heat to spread throughout her body. Her eyes took on a luminous hue. Steam was visibly streaming off of her, which Hagakure was quick to comment on. "Stay focused," Sana reminded the invisible girl. "It's coming."

"What-"

A chill nipped at their skin before a wave of ice swept through the room. "JUMP!" Sana warned her teammate, though she made no move to follow her own command. Shoto's ice instinctively retreated from the heat radiating off of her.

"It's s-s-so cold-d," Hagakure chattered, her teeth knocking together as she shivered violently.

"When Shoto comes in, I'll distract him while you slip out of the room. Shoji is probably waiting outside the building, but he'll come in once he realizes the ice attack didn't work."

"Eh? S-shot-t-"

Crunch.

Both girls fell silent as the soft crunch of ice underfoot grew closer to their hideout. He was close, maybe only a few steps outside the doorless entrance. Sana spotted Hagakure's shoelaces untying themselves out of the corner of her eye, the invisible girl ready to make a break for it as soon as the path was clear.

The mock battle had officially begun.

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

Within minutes, his tall figure appeared in the doorway, that red LED eyepiece glinting eerily. Thick layers of ice covered everything from floor to ceiling, including the windows. He'd blocked out her main power source. Well then, it's a good thing I'm fully charged.

"Sakano." The empty sound of his voice made her flinch. That, and what he'd called her.

Sakano.

Not her name, her given name that he'd used so many times before, but her father's name. An inescapable weight she was forced to carry with her like a ball and chain. Sakano. As if they'd never been close. As if they hadn't known each other for most of their lives. As if the last ten years together were somehow less significant than the past ten months apart. "Sakano," he'd said, as though greeting a stranger.

Maybe that's what they'd become.

Familiar strangers.

"Todoroki," Sana grit her teeth, pushing past the painfully large lump in her throat to speak. She knew she probably looked shaken by his verbal sneak attack. She'd felt the color drain from her cheeks the second the word had registered in her mind, had felt her trembling hands curl into fists. He knew how hearing that cursed name from his mouth would effect her, and he'd used it to his advantage. Smart move.

"Step aside," Shoto instructed. "We both know how this will go, so let's skip to the end."

Sana hoped Hagakure had already made her exit. Fuck what she'd said earlier. Things were about to get very personal, very quickly. And like Bakugou and Midoriya, she didn't want anyone interfering. Only All Might would know what was said between them, which wasn't ideal, but at least she didn't have to worry about the rest of the class listening in as well.

"You underestimate me, hero." She forced herself to smile, to joke and taunt. It helped keep the tears she desperately wanted to shed at bay. That, and the cameras pointed at her, capturing her every move. She wouldn't allow herself to break down and look weak, no matter how much she wanted to crumble under his mismatched gaze. "This battle is far from over."

"There's no point in dragging this out," Shoto lazily shrugged. "You and I operate on different levels. We always have."

Unrecognizable. The dual-haired teen standing before her was completely unrecognizable. Where was the young boy who loved watching reruns of All Might's news clips with his mother late at night while his father was patrolling? Where was the boy that stubbornly made her pinky promise to start a hero agency with him? Where was the sweet boy who used to tie her shoes for her, knowing she couldn't do it herself? The one who had offered to take care of her imaginary dog while she was at school and he was stuck at home with a tutor? The one who's father she'd begged to allow him to attend school with her? Homeschooling made for a flexible schedule, which meant more training time and less eyes to notice the aftermath of the hero's violent outbursts, but she'd made a compelling argument about exposing Shoto to more powerful and complicated quirks. Eventually, he warmed up to the idea.

Her Shoto was kind, even when all he'd known was cruelty. So who was this Shoto? This harsh, apathetic, machine-like man. What had happened during those months away for him to make such a drastic change?

"Different levels," Sana repeated slowly, testing the words out. A breathy laugh followed, though the sound lacked any humor. "Did your old man teach you that? It sounds like something he'd say."

A muscle in Shoto's jaw fluttered. Good. She wasn't the only one pissed off now.

"Maybe that's what he tells himself." She continued, the corners of her lips tugging upward, refusing to even blink as glowing eyes bore into his steely gaze. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, but she felt no satisfaction as the biting words left her mouth. "That the reason he's so far behind is because he and All Might are 'on different levels."' The temperature of the room dropped significantly.

There was a reason Sana had been paired with Shoto as a sparring partner all these years; they brought out the best and worst in each other.

Shoto was the quiet type. He rarely spoke unless prompted to, or if he had something weighing on his mind. He kept his personal thoughts and feelings locked away, but Sana knew how to coax them out. She had a way with words. She knew just what to say to soothe him after a particularly brutal day with his father, or send him into a full-blown rage that almost made Bakugou look tame. It was a gift she was quite proud of. She liked to think of it as a secret weapon.

She also knew that Shoto relied heavily on his quirk, choosing to use long range attacks rather than close combat. With his size advantage alone, he could easily overpower her and claim the weapon.

But he wasn't moving.

Why hasn't he attacked already? Sana shifted her weight, ice tinkling softly beneath her feet. Does he really not consider me a threat?

His eyes cut to the side, narrowing slightly in focus. He seemed to be listening to something... maybe Shoji was talking to him? Sana concentrated for a moment before she heard the sound of distant shouting. Hagakure. She and Shoji were probably a floor or two away from them, battling it out, and here they were standing around playing mind games.

Screw it.

Sana sent a blast of solid light at Shoto, who dodged the attack and returned one of his own. Sana ducked to the side to avoid the ice, each breath visible in the frosty air. She knew what he was up to. It was a tactic he used often during their sessions. Cooler temperatures caused her quirk to weaken significantly. Drops in temperature forced the photons in the atmosphere to slow down. He was trying to tire her out, corner her into using up her reserves until she had nothing left. It was a dance they'd done enough times for her to know every move by heart. She could do this in her sleep.

The action caused a rush of anger to well up inside of her. Was he even taking her seriously as an opponent? Was his strategy to toy with her in a game of cat and mouse until he got bored? Did he honestly believe that they were competing on different levels?

Finally, she had enough.

"Fight me, dammit!" she demanded. "You're not even taking this seriously!"

"Are you?" the red-and-white haired teen asked, creating a wall of ice to use as a barrier. "From what I'm seeing, you haven't improved at all since the last time we fought. Is this the best you can do?"

With a flick of her wrist his way, a ribbon of light sliced through his sheild like butter. The top portion slid to the side and shattered. With a stomp of his foot on the ground, a mountain of jagged ice raced towards her. Sana summoned more energy, creating a protective dome around herself. The ice attack immediately melted upon contact, the rest cracking from the intense heat radiating off the glowing half-sphere. Steam filled the room, adding an unnecessarily dramatic effect to an already dramatic scenw as the two teens glared at each other from opposite sides of the room.

Sana hadn't let her guard down once during the few minutes they'd been sparring. She had a plan, one she'd come up with mere moments before the battle trial began. But in order for it to work, she had to keep Shoto's attention. Unfortunately, she was starting to feel drained. She'd been maintaining a high temperature around herself since Shoto had turned the entire building into a popsicle. It was starting to have an effect on her, and Shoto seemed to sense that as well. He pummeled her temporary sheild relentlessly, battering it over and over with a barrage of endless attacks until Sana had to drop it to conserve her energy.

A beam of light shot from her palm, aimed at his head. The boy deflected it using a small glacier, while instantaneously firing back a blast of frost. The peach-haired girl jumped to the side, the ice shattering against the wall beside her. Shards of it went flying from the impact, a particularly sharp piece sliced her cheek an inch below her eye. A single drop of blood slipped down her cheek like a tear; the only one she would allow herself to shed in this moment.

With a battle cry, Sana launched herself at Shoto, only to be caught in the chest by a flurry of ice. She fell to the ground with a wince. Layers of frost crept along her stunned body, making her shiver violently.

A pair of white boots entered her field of vision as a disappointed sigh broke the silence. "It seems your efforts were in vain." The footsteps moved away from where she was immobilized, heading towards the weapon.

Hagakure had her hands full distracting Shoji, so Sana couldn't expect any backup from her teammate. More than anything, she wanted to prove that she was capable of taking on a powerhouse like Shoto Todoroki and winning.

"It wasn't a t-t-total waste." She called from the floor, teeth chattering.

His footsteps didn't stop or even slow at her words. Lifting her head as best she could with her body encased from her feet to her shoulders, she followed his broad back with her eyes. Standing before the weapon, Shoto lifted his right hand to touch the weapon and claim victory for the Hero Team.

Except... he couldn't touch it. His hand passed through the bomb like a reflection in a pool.

He whipped around at the sound of throaty laughter. "Y-you were right." Sana, despite being out of commission, still had her quirk activated. Her glowing eyes were a dead give away. Her lips, which were starting to turn blue, split into a devilish grin. "This is the b-best I can d-d-do."

"What is this?" Shoto's body tensed, the hand meant to hold the weapon now clenched into a fist.

"A dem-demonstration," she shuddered, still stuck face down on the floor. "I wanted t-to s-show how f-far I've come w-without you."

Shoto took a step closer to her. "What are you talking about?" He demanded, his voice urgent. "What did you do with the weapon, Sakano?"

Her skin was pale, eyes lidded, her blue lips bordering purple now. Yet, she still smiled conspiratorially, like she was in on a joke that hadn't been shared with the rest of the world. She faintly heard All Might's voice through her earpiece, yelling their names. She blinked heavily, the edges of her vision going dark.

As soon as the solar-powered girl lost consciousness, the fake-fake weapon faded away, and the real weapon Shoto was meant to capture appeared out of thin air, nestled in a dark corner on the far side the room. Sana had bent the light around the weapon to turn it invisible, as well as maintaining the mirage of a duplicate weapon, all while fighting him as a distraction until time ran out. It was a miracle she hadn't passed out sooner.

He was wrong when he'd said she hadn't improved earlier. Sana had grown immensely during their time apart, and not just quirk wise. She'd matured physically and mentally as well. It made Shoto's chest ache to think that he'd already missed so much in so little time.

He turned in a quick circle, looking for the real weapon before finally spotting it out of the corner of his eye. It annoyed him once he realized he'd passed right by it on his way inside. It hadn't even occurred to him that his childhood friend might be capable of doing something like that. He slid across the frozen floor towards the exit, arm outstretched. But just before his fingers could make contact, the buzzer went off.

"Time's up!" All Might announced. "Villian Team wins!" Distantly, a girl's voice could be heard cheering.

Shoto stared at the weapon with wide eyes, his hand hovering only inches away. Sana was much better at combat than he was. Whenever they practiced without their powers, it was rare that she lost. But for the first time in a decade, Sana had defeated him using her quirk. He wasn't sure if he should be proud of her success or saddened by it.

At the moment, it felt like a mixture of the two.

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

Sana had been defrosted, along with the rest of the building, by Shoto before being hauled away to the nurse's office to warm up and rest. After sleeping for about an hour, Sana finally stirred. Recovery Girl let her go with a kiss on the cheek and a handful of gummy bears. It came as no surprise to anyone that Midoriya was still unconscious.

She returned to the training grounds, where she was immediately greeted with cheers and claps on the back. Hagakure filled her in on what happened after she passed out, like how they won and how, apparently, she'd tied with Shoto as the MVP. Most of the teams had already gone by the time Sana had woken up, which was fine with her. After the stress she felt watching the first round, and the roller coaster of emotions she experienced during her own, the peach-haired girl was ready to call it a day.

All Might ended the class with a speedy exit, while the rest of the class walked at a normal pace back to the changing rooms. Once they were back inside the 1-A classroom, most of the students chose to hang back and socialize. Sana assumed the majority of them were waiting to congratulate Midoriya. Aside from Bakugou, of course, who grabbed his bag and stormed out without a word to anyone.

She had half a mind to follow him and try and cheer him up, but figured she'd already meddled in his life enough for one day.

"You know, Sakano, I was rather curious about something." Momo's voice pulled her away from her thoughts. The girls were gathered in a circle around Sana's desk, except for Uraraka, who had left with Kaminari to grab textbooks in preparation for tomorrow's lesson. "The nature of your quirk, along with your surname... well, it can't be a coincidence, can it? Are you related to the Sakanos?"

There was that name again. It followed her everywhere, like a shadow. Momo's question had caught the attention of the rest of the class, who were just as curious about the answer. She couldn't lie. Momo was right in the sense that it would be too much of a coincidence for her not to be one of them.

Without meaning to, Sana locked eyes with Shoto. She wasn't sure why she did it. Maybe because, out of everyone, he knew how heavy the burden of such a legacy could be. Or maybe it was because she was reminded of a wound he'd inflicted only hours ago that was still tender.

"Oh," Sana played with the cuff of her blazer. "I am."

"No way!" Mina clapped her hands to her cheeks. "You mean that scary-looking guy on TV is your dad?!" Sana nodded, hiding her despair behind a polite, practiced smile.

It was all part of the act, part of the role she'd been assigned since birth. She played her part well, unlike Shoto, who fought against his strings so much that he sometimes became tangled in them. No, she just smiled and nodded, said the lines she'd rehearsed so well, and waited for the show to end. When it was over, she'd give herself a round of applause for her performance, only to crumble as soon as the curtains closed.

But Shoto wouldn't be there to help pick up the pieces anymore. She hadn't imagined it earlier, when he'd called her that despicable name.

Sakano. What a cruel thing to say to someone you claimed to love.

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

Bakugou grumbled to himself, kicking at the ground as he walked home. The day couldn't have gone any worse. Not only had he been lectured like a child by some dumbass, but he'd also been humiliated by that shitty nerd in front of the entire class. No, worse. In front of All Might.

"When I was watching that ice guy, I realized I couldn't beat him in a head‐to‐head fight." He'd said to Deku by the school gates. "Dammit, even that glow-worm was stronger than I thought."

She'd downplayed her power, pretending to be weak and forced to rely on others, when in reality, her quirk was probably one of the strongest in class. It pissed him off that he'd been tricked again. He was right when he'd said she was like Deku. They were both looking down on him, mocking his strength and laughing at his expense.

Bakugou had always been praised: for his flashy quirk, his strength and determination, his intelligence, etc. He'd always been made to feel like number one, and had proven himself capable of being the best again and again. So why, after starting U.A, did it seem like that was no longer the case?

❀ Be sure to check out the spotify playlist!!!

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero acedamia #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugo my hero academia #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugou fluff #bakusquad #shoto todoroki #kirishima eijirou #ashido mina #kaminari denki #katsuki bakugou #bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bnha oc

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okkotsui · 1 year

Text

kavetham ⇄ ignorance is a bliss.

synopsis : your lovers seem to have their own worlds after kaveh returned from his project relating to akademiya and it looks like they have been neglecting you ever since.

warnings / tags : angst to fluff, polyamorous and established relationship, mentions of kavetham having seggs without you (not too detailed), top!kaveh, bottom!alhaitham, use of pet names (love & darling), soft hearted & sensitive!gender–neutral reader.

author’s note : unedited, will do later (or not). badly written, bear with me.

it has been almost a week since kaveh returned from his work and everything that occurred this week is not making you delighted by any means. people said that you should have talked to them, communication is the key but— what communication when you were overlooked by your own lovers?

your heart feels heavy but you understand it yourself that you cannot cry at this rate of heaviness within your heart where you just want to scream it out yet, it was another night without them having intimacy towards you.

for the third time in the week— you are not so certain of yourself that this was the third time without having you thus, you began to overthink whilst hearing them. at this point, you just want to be gone out of the thin air.

hearing both of their moans and groans made your heart clench from the bathroom to the kitchen and everywhere else, you don‘t know how to talk to them out of this.

“ah, fuck—! kaveh, faster!” hearing alhaitham begged for something made you gulp, not from the way it aroused you but the way that they don’t even care about you hearing them.

“yeah, i know— shit” kaveh added after alhaitham’s demand and that’s how it was your last straw for the evening.

you were getting tired of everything.

as they finished showering and doing their own business, they noticed that you fell asleep in the bed the three of you are sharing, they both looked at each other, sighing in trouble.

you weren't asleep, you just yearned for a rest mentally and physically but having them by your side made you more irritated than usual and you know it is not a good sign.

you both waited for them to fall asleep until you felt your patience getting thinner and thinner, removing their arms and legs around you with the audacity to make love without you and without even thinking about you.

you went to the living room, and walking down the hall you started with a silent sob for the whole week that had transpired, flopping down the couch. you spent all a few hours crying your heart out however, knowing alhaitham’s ears are sensitive, he cannot help to hear your cries and pleas.

alhaitham shook kaveh’s body half a sleeper, he did feel the space between them— he woke up his senior upon noticing your cries getting louder.

“ugh, what is it?” the blonde groaned, removing the former scribe’s hand away from him.

“idiot, it’s [name], they’re crying." once he said those, kaveh’s eyes opened shot, he does not care if he got blinded by the lights beside him.

“alhaitham, this is all your fault.” the architect nearly spat, moving faster toward the living room that you have been staying with.

alhaitham was left there, guilty. he may be the reason why you were left neglected for almost a week.

you were still crying, pleading with the gods or whoever was out there.

“p–please... ma...ke it s–stop” you hiccup, your heart was shattered into thousands of pieces.

whilst stepping into the living room, they heard you alright. their heart cracking from that time— especially alhaitham’s.

what they didn't know, you’ve been thinking a lot about what if’s in your head while crying your heart out. what if they don’t want you anymore? what if they’re too tired for you? what if they just pity you so th—

kaveh rushed into you, cupping your cheeks and wiping your tears, calming you down “shh, shh, love, please” his voice was not normal than usual, of course it is a serious matter to discuss.

this is a rare occurrence, they both tend to forget you which was unintentional but this time? it was more likely an intentional one despite alhaitham.

of course, alhaitham was standing beside him all awkward and heartbroken from seeing you cry— because of him.

“i’m sorry my love, i’m so sorry” kaveh almost chanted, repeating it for him to forgive on what he did.

“i–if you‘re rea–lly sorry, why did you two still ignored me as if i’m not here anymore!” you screamed, tears still flowing from your eyes.

“you could’ve said that you two don’t want me anymore, i–i can understand that,”

“you could’ve said that you two wanted some time together, i–i can let you two do your thing” you added.

their throat formed lumps from controlling themselves as they let you cry your heart out. what is the use of this polyamorous relationship if the three of them are not communicating?

“no, i’m sorry,” alhaitham finally spoke curtly, his hand forming into a fist, his nails marking his palms.

you stopped speaking at it was his first time doing so.

“it’s my fault, everything is my fault. i wanted him that i didn't even think about others or anything when he arrived. i’m being selfish because of that.” he tried, he wanted to explain further but he understands that your feelings were above your mind at this point.

“didn't think about others?! alhaitham, am i just no one to you?! you could have just broken up with me if you did!” you threw your head back from the headache, you were now out of tears to shed and missing the liquids of your body to process everything around you.

“no, i’m sorry, i was blinded by lust and selfishness that i started to forget you. don’t blame kaveh, i am taking the accountability it on my stead,” he confessed, kneeling in front of you as kaveh offered you some water that he got whilst alhaitham was explaining himself as you took it, drinking it.

“no, it is also my fault, i should have stopped him but he was too... stubborn to let go” kaveh‘s excuse was just like hearing it on blaming everything to alhaitham as the latter sent glare of daggers on him back.

“i’m sorry, darling. i really do, i’ll do everything to make it up to you” he held your hands, kissing it tenderly, so soft, so fragile— just like you.

“i don’t want to fight you two, i hate it, i don’t want to lose you two.” you finally spoke, still giving small hiccups from the aftermath.

“but i won’t forgive you two so easily, almost half of my trust is gone by that time.” you added which they both nodded.

“we still want you— we still love you, so much, we don’t want to break up with you and we don’t want to leave you out again, we’re sorry we didn't listen to you, sorry we didn't say anything, sorry for doing this to you.” kaveh caressed your under eyes with his thumb, you still have your guard up and anytime, you will break everything off with them with one more wrong move.

you drank the water that has given to you earlier, nodding to them and pouting at them. kaveh gave you a soft kiss as alhaitham sat up, giving you one of the sweetest kisses that he had given to you— it made you tear up as kaveh consoles you once again.

kaveh carried you back to the room you three are sharing as alhaitham intertwines your hand softly, your sniffling was from your sobbing as it finally subsided already.

too tired to speak or to move, the architect placed you down on the bed, snuggling with you and that was when you felt at home, with the two of them— kissing your forehead and saying “good night darling love, sweet dreams, we’re sorry again” they snaked their arms and legs with yours as you sighed ragged, feeling their touches light and as if it is asking for forgiveness.

the morning came, kaveh was still asleep as both you and alhaitham were awake but the latter was cooking breakfast whilst you did not know you only discovered he did when he made you breakfast in bed which made your heart swell up.

but this doesn’t mean you forgave him, no.

days like this continued, breakfast in bed, then appreciating and loving you more than ever, taking you on dates— not just ordinary but the usual things they do like their own way, slowly letting you feel comfortable around them once more.

and one day, you accidentally cried, thinking that they might think that you were taking advantage of them, and as the best boyfriends that they are, they assured you once more.

“i forgive you both, i’m sorry” you sniffed, their heart swelled, hugging you, and you feel officially at home once more, feeling their warmth.

“no, your feelings are valid, alright love? thank you for forgiving us, we promise— we swear that this won’t happen again” kaveh kissed your forehead like he usually does.

“i’m sorry, i love you” alhaitham pressed his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes, as you nodded, smiling at him, both of them.

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