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gutsby · 1 month

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Wingman

Pairing: Himbo!Joel x Reader

Summary: Your bestie braves the tampon aisle for you.

Warnings: 18+. Period crackfic starring Himbo!Joel—don’t take it too seriously. R has a uterus that hates her. Mentions of blood, cramps, & hangover-induced puking. Dirty talk, f!masturbation. One (1) Mean Girls reference.

Word count: 1.7k

You were fucked ten ways to Wednesday if you didn’t get your hands on some soap, a steamer, and a supersized box of maxi-pads in the span of the next eleven minutes.

Joel Miller moved like molasses on a flat slab of granite.

“WILL YOU HURRY— THE FUCK— UP?”

Your cheeks were hot. The night air was cold.

Every other word that managed to claw out of your throat was punctuated by a breath—your stomach clenched, and the sex organ below it was in hysterics.

Joel continued to lace up his loafer, clumsy as ever.

“O-kay, okay,” he hummed, “Steamer, soap, and, uh…”

“Pads!”

“Uh-huh. Right. So what kinda…blood stuff is it, again?”

The words were like an aspersion on his tongue. At the ripe old age of forty-seven, Joel still hadn’t quite learned to jibe with the menstrual product lingo, and it showed.

“Heavy flow. Any brand. With wings,” you hissed.

“Boneless or traditional?”

And if he hadn’t been standing outside the truck, foot propped up against the driver’s seat while he tied his shoe, you likely would’ve smacked him upside the head. The glare you gave him was sufficiently vicious to extinguish the smirk, though. Your hand made a fist in the front of your dress, and you groaned, leaning inward.

Joel got the picture and finished his bunny ears quick.

“Sorry.”

Then, a little more sheepish as he straightened up,

“I’m goin’. Be just a minute.”

And he was off.

Your body curled into a ball as soon as he left. It cried in pain, to nothing and no one around but that fugly slut, the nastiest skank bitch you’d ever met, your uterus.

There was no way you and Joel were making it to this rehearsal dinner. You needed to be at the venue by 7:00, the clock on the dash read 6:11, and you were, currently, twenty miles shy of Fredericksburg with a rag between your legs and your best friend scouring the local H-E-B.

That afternoon you’d been running late, so of course you’d thrown on your thin, satin, pre-wedding-ready dress before you left—and forgotten a change of clothes. Joel had been hungover from all the batshit bachelor party antics, so of course you’d had to stop three times along the way just so he could throw up on the side of the road. And, though your friend was many, many things, discreet was not one of them, so of course he’d told you, point-blank, when he saw you reaching for something in the backseat with your butt sticking up:

“You been pissin’ tomato juice or somethin’?”

And you’d looked back in abject horror.

Of course your period had come a week early and made you bleed straight through your bright yellow dress.

Maria was your best friend. You were her maid of honor. Tommy’s groomsmen happened to be the most fuckable bunch you’d ever seen—save for Joel—so there was no way you’d be caught dead at that dinner with the flag of Japan on your ass. And Maria had bought the dress just for you, so you felt like you had to get this bloodstain out.

You lifted your head to peer out the window. Even with the help of a fistful of ibuprofen, you could barely move.

6:29

“Dude, where are you?!”

It was like your phone and the FaceTime call to Joel had just materialized on their own. The man on the screen was blinking slow. Ogling something in front of him.

“So ‘L’ stands for…long?” he said after a beat.

“No, that’s light, Joel, I need a heavy one.”

“This one’s got cardboard in it, I think.”

“That’s a tampon applicator, dipshit.”

In a blink, Joel’s eyes flitted to his phone. His nostrils flared, and he met your gaze with a scowl of his own.

“Well how the hell am I supposed to know that? Only stuck two— three things in a pussy before and it sure as fuck wasn’t cotton,” he griped, and if he were any less mature he likely would’ve rolled his eyes. Drama king.

You winced as another cramp rolled through you. You shook your head and tried to regain your composure.

“Just find a heavy-flow. pad. with wings. for me. Please.”

Joel sighed and turned back to the shelf, eyes searching.

It shouldn’t have been this hard, but it was. You had no doubt Joel had never willingly touched a pussy product before in his life, so the road ahead was treacherous. Silently, you felt the urge to tell him he had no business being in pussy at all if he didn’t bother to learn what came out of one every month, but you let him cook.

His dark, greyish brows drew together in concentration. He leaned forward and reached for a box. Then stopped.

Went low to grab another, before pausing to show you.

“Very close, Joel. That’s a pantyliner.”

You felt somewhat like a mother showing a headstrong four-year-old how to copy shapes onto paper. No, darling, that’s a diva cup—and be careful with that crayon. Joel stood and he stewed and, by the look in his eyes, you’d already resigned yourself to another ten minutes of this back-and-forth rummaging at least.

Then you shifted in your seat, pushing your legs down a bit. They rubbed, of course. In spite of the pain that had seized your whole lower half, you felt a sweet, dull pulse.

You stared hard at Joel’s face on-screen to make sure he hadn’t seen it in yours, but damn that friction felt nice.

Sensitivity elevated with the influx of hormones, no doubt, you sat tight and tried to enjoy the feeling on purpose for a moment. You slowly sucked in a breath.

“Aw, hell, there’s just too many’a these damn boxes.”

You flexed your thigh muscles and let out a sigh.

“I don’t know how y’all do it,” Joel grumbled.

Keep looking, Miller. Just keep looking.

Slowly, your hips began to stir, and one small grain of pleasure gave way to a jolt—a twist in the pit of your belly that made the pain less grating. You leaned into it more.

Holding your phone, you could feel when Joel let out a frustrated groan. The sound low and almost enticing.

Wait.

“Gross,” you said out loud, half-whispered.

You couldn’t help it. Joel was one of your closest friends; a man who loved beer die, Pall Malls, and Keith Whitley like nobody’s business and gave suffocating bear hugs whenever he was sweaty just to gross you out. You weren’t supposed to find men like that attractive.

But when the grit of his voice was just so nice…

“What?” Joel stopped to look down again.

“What?” you shot back, instantly.

A frown tugged at his lips.

“What’s ‘gross’? Me?”

Not…exactly, no.

More disgusted with yourself than anyone else, you clamped your legs together and shook your head. You tried to swallow, as if the action might suck the pleasure down with it, but the hot, throbbing sensation only grew.

You were practically grinding into the towel that had been stuffed between your thighs when you heard:

“Wings!”

An exceptionally proud Joel displayed a box of extra heavy-duty maxi-pads, with wings. He was grinning.

You weren’t sure if you thanked him next, congratulated the man, or what. You probably strung some words together and tried to return the smile as best you could, but who knew? The next thing you saw was that the line had gone dead, the truck was silent, and all that could be heard above the hum of the engine were your moans.

You braced yourself against the seat and rolled your hips even harder. Out of habit, you caught your lip between your teeth to prevent a louder sound from escaping, but then you remembered there was no one to hear you but you—for now. Your palm pressed flat on the dashboard, your knees squeezed even closer, and your vision flooded with soft, minuscule pinpricks of an all-too-familiar hue.

The only thing new to you here was Joel—the thought of him had never crossed your mind in moments like these.

But now you were closing your eyes, humping the seat with nothing between your body and the old, weathered upholstery but a scrap of fabric. And you were moaning his name. Imagining a face that was littered with coarse, grey stubble—you might’ve teased him for that once or twice before—and lips that were soft. So soft against your own that you wouldn’t think twice if he tried to slip his tongue inside and hold the sides of your face as he filled your cunt to the brim. In fact, Joel’s mouth would be a welcome distraction. Knowing how foul he was in even friendly confab, he’d undoubtedly be whispering the most vile things in your ear while he fucked you.

Reminding you, quietly, that you made such a pretty cocksleeve for him—why didn’t we try this sooner?— and how you’d be the sweetest thing if you just gave his cock another squeeze and made yourself cum all over it.

The mental image of that alone was inducement enough.

You felt a hot, euphoric band of something start to give way inside you. It tightened up, twisted—then snapped. Your mouth fell open and your thighs clenched tighter, grinding desperately in tandem with a pace you’d hoped Joel might’ve set if he were laying there underneath you. You clung to one last thought of him gripping your hips and bruising your walls with the force of his cock driving in and out, over and over again until, eventually, his cum was leaking out through each fluid thrusting movement. It was all your body could take, conjuring thoughts of his load spilling into you and onto him in warm, wet, sticky—

Whistling.

Someone was whistling outside. Walking up to the truck.

You were still coming down from the staggering heights of your climax when the driver’s side door swung open. You blinked furiously, as though to drive all the filth and depravity and need from your eyes before he could see.

It didn’t matter.

Joel was too amped up off a white plastic baggy to be concerned with much else as he plopped down beside you and smiled—beamed, really. Completely oblivious.

Your extremities were still twitching with the residuum of bliss when he reached for your hand. His eyes somehow warmer than they’d been all that day, they sparkled and shone and crinkled at the corners in a way that seemed to say the words before his mouth had uttered a sound.

“I got three boxes to be safe…”

Joel was really too sweet.

“…and some chocolate for your cramps…”

Always so considerate.

“…and you look real pretty when you cum, by the way.”

This motherfucker.

#THINKING ABOUT……..….....….BIG DUMB IDIOT MEN AND OPEN-MOUTHED KISSING 💔💔#AND A LITTLE BIT OF CHICKEN FRIED #COLD BEER ON A FRIDAY NIGHT #A PAIR OF JEANS THAT FIT JUST RIGHT #AND THE RADIO UUUUUUUUP 😫#joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller tlou #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic

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risuola · 2 months

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ENTRY #4 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // Your fingertips brought me back from the death.

contents: arranged marriage!au, slight hurt-comfort — wc. 921

series masterlist

„It hurts, Satoru.”

Pain. Agonizing, paralyzing pain was something Gojo had to teach himself to live with. He wouldn’t tell anyone, he’s the strongest, the honored one, he’s… a human. No matter how trained he was, how much control over his own body he had, how efficiently he managed his cursed energy, he never learned how to deal with the side effects of the cursed blessing he inherited.

It felt like he’s dying. Every time his six eyes were put to work for more than enough, a part of him was begging for an end to the suffering he had to endure. He felt like his head was splitting open from the inside out, like his brain was bleeding, his eyes were burning. He could feel the pounding of his heartbeat, fast and uneven, in his temples, ears and neck; he was sweating and frowning. He was miserable. Vulnerable. He couldn’t focus on anything and every move he made only made the anguish worse. It was a misery. Excruciation. But then–

“What do you think you’re doing?”

–then your soft, warm palms planted themselves on top of his closed lids oh so gently and Satoru realized that he held your wrist in an iron grip – a defense mechanism he couldn’t control whenever anyone got too close to his eyes. With his infinity turned off, he felt helpless against your touch, but submitted himself to your mercy and it tingled. An odd sensation that seemed to envelop his head in a protective hood of something he couldn’t understand slowly soothed the torment inside his skull. The pounding mellowed and the muscles between his brows and in his shoulders began to relax underneath the calming influence of your doing.

Satoru let out a shaky breath, one that he just noticed he was holding in, and his fingers that once wrapped around the fragile bones of your forearm now shifted to the top of your knuckles, greedy to hold your hands there longer. His senses were calming, coming to the sharpness he’s used to have and slowly he started registering more than just the balm of your hands. Slowly he became aware of you. The subtle, sweet scent of your perfume mixed with equally pleasant, slightly flowery note of washing detergent you bought recently – the one he had to carry for you the other day because you had enough bags in your hands and texted him for help. He felt the softness of your stomach against the top of his hair as you stood behind the couch on top of which he was sitting, with his head tilted back.

“You’re hurting. I’m helping you,” and the melody of your voice, quieted and gentle that now he was finally able to hear clearly once the echo of his own heartbeat stopped deafening his eardrums.

Satoru couldn’t tell what you were doing. He felt the very distinct signature of your cursed energy flowing through your palms but it wasn’t something he could recognize. He also couldn’t tell what gave away his suffering – was it the way he entered the house that day? After a week-long job outside the city, he dropped his coat and kicked off the shoes and then, without acknowledging you he nearly collapsed onto the couch. It wasn’t the first time he ignored you and surely it wasn’t the first time he was in pain in your presence. Maybe the grunt he let out when dropping his weight onto the cushions made it too obvious that he was in agony?

“How do you know I’m hurting?” He asked, too curious, too unsure to let the question go.

“You’re always hurting after those longer jobs,” you replied and he hummed, perplexed to realize that you’ve been seeing his misery before. “It’s the six eyes, right? Your head hurts when you overuse it.” Your words made him speechless; the tone you used – full of care and concern, it got him frozen for a moment or two. “You saved me many times, so I learned this to save you.”

“You learned this for me?”

“I did,” you let out a soft chuckle, the kind that flows on top of a breath without much sound to it. You moved your hands a little, resting your thumbs on top of his skin and moving them in little circles, rubbing the tension away from his forehead and temples. It felt intimate in a way and Satoru wasn’t used to stripping his infinity off to connect with other humans in such private level. “I wasn’t sure if it’s even going to work. I couldn’t test it before because it only applies to you.”

“A technique that works only on me?” He repeated the words that didn’t make sense in his mind. Why would you go so far for him? He wasn’t a man you chose to spend your life with, he wasn’t even good to you. “How?”

“Well, it’s a little mix of my cursed technique and yours and subconsciously you allowed my energy to enter your head and release the tension that built up after you overused your eyes. It’s not really reversed cursed technique, I don’t know how to explain this… but all that matter is that it works,” you concluded with a soft sigh of relief.

“Why?”

“Because I’m your wife, Satoru. Because you carry enough weight on your shoulders to pay the price of saving the world. Because you don’t have to be the strongest all the time and you don’t have to do this alone.”

taglist: @kinny-away, @anan-baban, @lotomber, @netflix-imagines, @kawliflo, @nishloves, @ghostfacefricker6969, @thejujvtsupost, @yozora7154, @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost @ae-mius

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jyoongim · 3 months

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This isn't exactly a request but a thought that had been so heavy on my brain. Hellborn royalty reader x Alastor who's stronger than he is. I just can't stop thinking about it. Maybe even Goetia reader whew they are stronger and protect him from something and I just go FERAL at the thought.

Some background context:

The Ars Goetia are a royal dynasty of noble hellborn demons who serve as prophets, messengers, and observers of the mortal plane for the King of Hell. They are responsible for maintaining stability within the seven rings. They are highly knowledgeable in the heavens, society, and prophecies of all domains.

—————————————————————————————

The hotel was a wreck.

The Angels had made it their personal mission to eliminate those who resided in the hotel.

The Princess of Hell had acquired your assistance if things got shaky for them.

And OH things were shaking.

Alastor had took it upon himself to fight Adam, when you suggested you could of great help he turned you down. Stating that he would be able to handle the Angel himself.

But things were not looking good for the Radio Demon.

You admired the confidence he had, but the demon was in a sticky situation and you would be damned if anyone hurt YOUR demon.

You were fuming and it was showing.

You calmly walked through the fighting, every attack thrown your way didn’t even touch you as you quickly dispatched your attackers.

You appeared in front of the injured deer in a cloud of smoke.

“Hehe who the fuck are you?” Adam asked, but you ignored him as you checked on Alastor.

He was bleeding and weak, you placed your hands on his face, scowling softly “Oh Alastor my sweet. You did good my love but Ill take over from here” he tried to object, but with a wave of your hand, you dissolved him in mist to keep him safe.

You turned to Adam, who was smirking “Tch! You think you can take me? Ha! If your best couldn’t scratch me what thinks you can?”

You smiled, your body morphed into mist “who said he was our best?”

He attacked, swinging his axe and trying to bring it down on you. Your eyes glowed white and with a flick of the wrist he was frozen to the spot. You curled your fingers and watched as the Angel contorted in pain. You hissed “I am the judge and executioner and you, you arrogant pig have no authority here. Divine violence is my right for power belongs to those who take it.” At your words, the sky formed dark clouds and the realm shook.

Adam let out a scream as your magic crackled along his skin, searing pain riddling his body as you burned his wings and corrupted his every soul.

“YOU CANT DO THIS! I AM ADAM! THE FIRST MAN! YOU BITCH! NO NO NO NO!” Your mist enveloped his body and he slowly morphed to black as you took his life. You watched as his soul screeched and struggle.

You pulled him towards him and smirked, sneering at him with sharp teeth

“Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord”

And with a soft blow from your lips, he dispersed. His soul crying as you sent him to Limbo.

Hell shook as your magic rocked the cosmos.

The remaining Angels let out a cry as they were struck with pain, felt in their soul.

You were sucking their power and in an attempt to save themselves they retreated back to Heaven.

You morphed back to normal and your misty shadows revealed Alastor to you.

You picked up the red demon and nudged him with your nose, he grumbled ”Y-You didn’t have to intervene. I had it under control”

You hummed, a soft smile on your face a his stubbornness “completely but I wasn’t going to stand around when you clearly needed my help.”

Your face dropped to a pout “don’t tell me that me being stronger hurts your pride? You should be honored. A woman willing to protect her love is a powerful thing to behold”

Alastor sighed, relaxing against you, feeling the exhaustion of the battle overtake him.

You cooed at him, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “Don’t worry I don’t think anything less of you. I think you’re the strongest man I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting”

The Radio Demon might have been a prideful soul, but it was you who was the strongest.

And really…he was ok with that fact.

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #jyoongim #alastor the radio demon #alastor x y/n #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor smut #ars goetia

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summerssover · 3 months

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𝐔𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 ⊹ ִֶָ ❲ 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵!𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ❳

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘, in which you and matt take some pics for his wallet

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆, sub!matt x fem!reader, passionate!matt x poc!reader

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒, suggestive content, language, oral sex (male receiving)

▐ ❝ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ❞

𓏲 🎀🎱 𓂃 ✦ 💒

you and matt laid in his bed with your legs tangled in one another’s. the rooms was dim, nothing but the light of your phones screens glowing on your faces as you you curled under your boyfriend, both mindlessly scrolling on tiktok and a cozy smelling candle roaming the room.

you turned your body towards matt, “can i see your wallet?”

“okay”, he paused for a minute to look in your eyes, searching for a sign of seriousnous, “why?”

“just hand me the wallet please” you placed your hand between you, waiting for your boyfriend to give you his wallet.

matt reached over to the bed side table and handed it you. he watched with his head tilted in confusion as you flipped the wallet open. “your wallets’ so boring”

“yeah, you gonna buy me a new weirdo?”

you rolled your eyes at the amount of sass he threw at you straight off the rip. “no, you’re gonna put my picture in there”

matt softly laughed before he started to tease you a little, “you assume i want your picture in my wallet?”

“why would you not, do i need to find someone else who wants them?” matt looked at you once again and laugh but you weren’t amused, “don’t fucking play matt”

“shut the fuck up” he started as he got up from his position on the bed, taking you with him. “i would be honored to have your picture in my wallet babe”

he’s now sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling you in his lap.

“yeah cause you know better”

you mumbled what you could as he brought his face closer to yours for a sweet kiss. “what did you have in mind ?” he asked.

before you replied you stood up from his lap and made your way across the room to get the polaroid camera you threw in your bag.

handing matt the camera, you pulled him to the top of the bed as you got on as well.

“just take the pictures and enjoy the show baby”

the first article of clothing you decided to remove were your (his) sweats. underneath you had on a black skims thong to match with the shirt that stopped at the curve of your waist. matt felt his hands start to shake a little as you did seductive poses.

“you can start taking the pictures now”

he didn’t know if it was all in his head or if it was just the low partynextdoor now playing but everything was blurred out and he only saw you, completely focusing on you and forgetting about everything else. “my fault ma”

the first picture printed out was of you tall on your knees and grabbing on the strings of your thong, looking up at him with the most mesmerizing eyes. matt smiled down at the picture as it started to bleed through. “you look so beautiful baby, the flash makes your hair look amazing” he complemented.

matt absolutely loved when you defused your hair and it gets all fluffy, he’d lay in it like a pillow all day if he could.

you leaned over to get a view of the picture, a smiles formed on your face too once you saw the turn out then you kissed his cheek. “thank you sweet boy, common let’s take s’ more”

this time you removed the baby tee, revealing the black strapless bra that held you up. you laid your back on the bed and motioned him to come closer. you took one glance at matt and seen that he looked all hot and bothered, only feeding into your ego more and more. “what’s the matter, your acting like you’ve never seen my body before”

matt shook his head and and dropped the camera a bit, “you just look so good right now”

“and i appreciate that but you have one job right now” you smirked up at him, now having fun with being the one to do the teasing.

you fluffed out your hair while instructing, “okay i want these shots to be close and personal”

you made all types of poses before noticing matt wasn’t taking the pictures anymore causing you to look at him, questioning your boyfriend in your head.

“i’m so hard right now” he let out a deep sigh and you smiled “i can see that”

“you gonna help?”

you acted as if you were thinking for a second then shook your head, “help yourself, babe i wanna keep taking pictures”

“huh” he didn’t believe his ears right now, you created the mess and now you didn’t want to fix it. now propped up on your elbows you pulled down matt’s sweats along with his boxers causing his dick to spring out and slap the bottom of his stomach. taking it in your hand and spitting on it you started to pump your hand up and down a couple of times, giving him a head start. he threw his head back in pure bliss at the feeling of his girl taking care of him.

“you can multitask can’t you?”

at this point matt’s head was so fuzzy he couldn’t do anything but listen to you and agree. he nodded his head slowly and took himself into his hand, going up and down at the same rate as you

now that he was occupied you took this time to slip out of your bra, “you ready matt?”

his response was choked up but you could tell he was willing to push through for you. you guys took a couple of pictures before you noticed that matt started to shuffle in place a bit. his groans only got louder and you could now hear exactly how hard he was breathing.

bringing your hand to rub up his thigh and to rest on his v-line, letting your thumb brush over the defined muscle, you watch him as he got closer and closer to his climax.

“are you close sweet boy, you wanna cum all over my face? you teased and settled for his little whimpers hence you had already been hard enough on him.

“fuck yn”

“i know baby, let it out, don’t hold back on me”

you talked him through his orgasm while laying directly under his dick, as he leaked on your face and tits. you moan and closed your eyes in satisfaction of the small droplet that landed in your mouth.

moments later your bright smile beamed up at matt while the milky substance dripped perfectly down your face. matt gained his consciousness back and snapped a picture of the work of art in front of him. throwing the camera on the bed he dropped on hand to your nipple and smeared the cum into it. he then picked up the freshly printed polaroid and wore a shit eating grin, this was definitely the on he was using.

“you are unreal baby”

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ �� ❪ 𝙰𝚄𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚁'𝚂 𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙴 ❫ ✩₊˚. ◛ ·˚ ༘ ᝰ

⁀➷┊ ‧₊˚. IDK YALL I THINK THIS IS MY BEST ONE YETTTTT, i was listening to partynextdoor while writing this and when i tell you i need this man RIGHT NOW LIKE OMFGGGGG, but i hope yall enjoy and don’t hesitate to give me your opinions BYE LOVES 🩷

#˖ ࣪ 🥭⋆˚࿔ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝜗𝜚˚⋆#black writers #chris sturniolo x black reader #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #nathan doe x reader #chris sturniolo #x black reader #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt smut #chris smut #summersover #Spotify

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avocad1s · 10 months

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Trial By Combat

Requested By: No one. Original Work.

CW: Mentions of dying, Impostor SAGAU

Summary: After being declared an imposter, you decide to duel to defend your honor rather than stand trial.

Note: Fontaine is amazing. I’m loving every bit of it rn especially Neuvillette, Navia, and Chlorinde.

If you haven’t finished the Fontaine Archon quest, please exit stage left.

Part Two Part Three

You never even made it to the Court Of Fontaine before you were confronted by Focalors, the Hydro Archon, of being an imposter of the Creator of Teyvat. In her own eccentric way, she throws accusations at you. ‘To take the face of the Creator is not only a crime in Fontaine but in all of Teyvat!’

You deny her claims but she only laughs, ‘you’re acting ignorant, as if you do not know who the Creator is. Do you have any evidence to prove your innocence?’

You look down, there was no evidence you had that would prove to her and everyone else that this was the face you were born with, or that you never heard of this Creator before.

“The trial of the Century” is what the Steambird called it.

The Opera House was as full as ever, many people wanting to see the verdict the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale would give or wanting to see the one who dared to imitate Their Grace.

Maybe it was out of spite or your own foolishness, but you never allowed the trial to fully begin. Turning to Neuvillette, you declare that you want to duel rather than stand trial.

Despite the protests of Focalors, who wanted to prosecute you, the wish is granted.

The weight of the sword felt unbearable in your clammy hands as you stared at your opponent. Champion Duelist Clorinde stares back nonchalantly, her face not giving any clues on how she felt in this moment. However you heard rumors that she personally requested to duel you.

You readjusted your grip on the hilt as you fix your stance.

Was this truly the correct course of action? To fight and prove your innocence when you know that there’s no way you can win?

No it didn’t matter, you can’t back out now.

The crowd watches eagerly waiting for the duel to begin, how could the people of Fontaine do this? You were a real person and they acted as if you were a character on stage and the play was about to reach it’s final act. The excited looks on their face made your blood boil. If you somehow manage to make it out of this, you would make them pay.

You take one final glance at Furina before the duel commences.

Clorinde wastes no time to strike, using her electro vision, she effortlessly knocks your sword out of your hand and drags her blade down your torso.

Whether her fatal blow was an act of mercy or a warning for anyone else who dared to take the Creators face, the duel was over as soon as it started.

But…

No this couldn’t be right…

Clorinde looks down at her weapon, the golden ichor that dripped onto the floor caused her eyes to widen as she looks at your limp body by her feet.

She immediately drops her weapon as she kneel not caring as the blood began to stain her clothing. Her hands press against your chest to slow the bleeding as she calls out to the crowd.

“We need a doctor!”

A medical team rushes down to your side making haste to attend to your wounds, your vision begins to blur as the mortified looks of Fontaine citizens watch in despair hoping that your life could be saved.

Furina, who sat at the top like always, quickly backs away before anyone could question her. How could she face her people when she was the one who laid these accusations at your feet? How could she face you?

She prays, hoping that an act of mercy could be given to her and her people, how could she call herself an Archon now?

The original publication by the Steambird was quickly scrapped and replaced with “The Creator of Teyvat Falsely Accused of being an Imposter.”

And it didn’t take long for the devastating news to reach the other nations too.

Sorry I had to write a little something for SAGAU Fontaine but now I will return to the requests everyone sent 🏃🏽‍♀️

#genshin cult au #sagau #sagau impostor au #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #imposter sagau #sagau x reader #genshin cult

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 4 months

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The Arcana HCs: M6 and Kisses

~ enjoy :3 ~

Julian

Kissing him is never unemotional

Heated moments aside, Julian gives you both planned and unplanned kisses. Depending on the mood and context, how that feels and how that progresses can change drastically

He loves "occasion" kisses, tiny little pauses of the day's etiquette where he gets to swoop in and leave a peck on your cheek. Hello kisses, goodbye kisses, thanks-for-checking-on-me-at-2-AM-because-I'm-still-awake-from-thinking-too-much kisses ...

... though that last kind is less likely to be on the cheek, and more likely to be the most tired, grateful "thank you" you've ever heard, whispered against your lips as he trails after your touch

Unplanned kisses happen whenever someone says or does something that reminds him of what you mean to him. Between his scholar's brain and bleeding heart is a vast sea of sentiment

Maybe it's seeing one of the South End vendors, stooped with age, quietly lighting up as their equally weathered partner walks by on the other side of the canal and blows them a cheeky smooch

He never thought he'd live long enough to look like that, but now all he can think about is how he can't wait to be that with you

Then he's making good use of that massive coat of his, catching up to you in two long strides, pulling you into one of those all-encompassing hugs before he swoops the cape of it between you and prying eyes so he can pour his soul into a heartfelt kiss

Asra

Never the same and always the same, somehow

They don't care to be publicly vulnerable, so you're not going to get any lingering kisses in the street, or the market, or the tavern

But considering the extent to which his love for you has completely consumed him, he can't not express affection for you

And besides, they've never been conventional. Why limit themself to your face when you've got a whole body?

Unexpected kisses peppered across your knuckles when you hold hands. A subtle peck to the pulse point below your ear when he leans in to whisper something to you. The briefest brush of his lips against the back of your shoulder as you stand and wait together

All this without ever expecting anything in return - doing anything similarly sweet and subtle back will result in a blushing, stumbling, zoned-out magician and a laughing snake

Privately, kisses aren't about a heated moment (though they have been known to play into them, when you were interested ...)

They're about savoring you, lingering on the gift of your warm, living presence, delighting in their chance to luxuriate in finally expressing every ounce of devoted adoration for you

For someone as playful and creative as he is, every moment your mouths meet is a little different, a little new, that childlike curiosity excited to find yet another way to feel you

All while that loyal, bone-deep love feels like coming home

Nadia

Kissing her feels like you're being blessed

Getting kissed in public is almost always a statement of some kind. Each brush of her lips against your skin carries the weight of an important message

Anything from a kiss to your wrist, telling you that you handled a tricky situation well, to a firm kiss on your mouth, telling everyone around you that you are her most important person

It could be easy to feel you're just another face orbiting her, with how naturally she commands the attention of a room and takes charge of any situation and brings it into line

But when every moment of contact is designed to honor you, to credit you with the leader she's become, you may find that not sharing the spotlight with her is almost impossible

In private, kisses are raw and unrefined

They're still purposeful, but there's no grand painting to be a part of. The woman next to you is not the Countess, but the person who trusts you wholeheartedly and expects no less in return

Dizzying intensity, feeling every emotion freely expressed against your lips, watching her thoughts flit across her open, unguarded face. She desires vulnerability and abandons ceremony in her rush to be close to you. If there's no walls between you, why hold back?

Being the sole focus of such a powerful, regal person feels a bit like taking the concentrated power of the sun. Except it's Nadia, and her neverending need to saturate you with her love

Muriel

Kisses with him are tender

Halting and awkward, at first, and a little lost as he gets his practice, and much more involved and intense as time goes on, but never lacking in gentleness and consideration

You can count the amount of times he's kissed you in public on one hand. He is not into PDA by a long shot

Luckily for you, you two live in the woods. Being in public requires planning ahead. Being in private is another normal day

Casual kisses take time. They're never thoughtless, instead being something you receive in a split second after about ten minutes of intense mental planning and preparation on his part

Over time, you find it's easier for him to give you casual kisses with his fingertips - brushing your cheek gently, pressing one finger to his own lips before lightly tapping it to your nose

He has accidentally kissed your nose when he was aiming for your mouth multiple times now. The only way to convince him to get past it and keep initiating kisses was to make it an inside joke

Kisses for him are a way to reaffirm every silent promise he's made you. Whether it be his commitment to sticking life out with you, to healing, to growing, to protecting, to nurturing with you

To him, it's the weighty comfort of building a new home and family with you. To you, it's safety and trust and security and gentleness beyond imagining. Not the most heated, but always warm

Portia

Kissing her is like bubbling over

She loves fiercely and without restraint. If you're hers and she's yours, there is no reason to hold back

Kisses are her extension of general physical affection. She'll stand with her arm around you, nuzzling into your cheek as she teases you in conversation and planting a kiss there while she's at it

She's also so openly affectionate towards anyone she cares about that there's next to no room for anybody to feel awkward

If it's in reach and she's happy you're with her for the hundredth time that day, she's kissing it. Shoulders, arms, hands, elbows, nose, cheeks, hair - there are very few limits

Kisses in private don't get outrageously creative, but they take on a whole host of meanings for someone as expressive as she is

Frustrated kisses when she feels like she's failed, excited kisses when she's got a new idea, flirtatious kisses that make you feel those new couple butterflies after decades of life together

"You're irresistible with flour in your hair" kisses, scattered all across your face in her sunlit kitchen before she pulls you in for something longer and deeper and sweeter

"You make life feel like a storybook" kisses, full of suspended disbelief and excited giggles and romantic embraces

"You make me the main character of my story" kisses, lingering long as she holds you to her chest and savors your companionship

Lucio

Kissing him is an adventure

He wasn't used to kisses meaning much more than a good time. At least, not before you. By the time he met you, the ability to feel warmth and basic touch was overwhelmingly precious

As easy at it is for casual affection to be simply casual for him, it's never unappreciated, and certainly not taken for granted

Has no issues with PDA. If he wants a kiss, and you want a kiss, then it's time to enjoy a kiss. Anybody who has a problem with it is free to look in any other direction (though he's not thinking that far)

From moment to moment, they're the added spice to a good life. Sudden, rushed, sloppy kisses on the road just because he can, and because he's about to disregard that "no trespassing" sign

In quieter moments, kisses become so precious that each one feels like a polished gemstone falling into your lap

He's been starving all his life for a true connection, for a reliable affection that tells him it's safe to believe you when you tell him that you love him. He may act entitled, but he's not oblivious

Holding such a rollercoaster of a man while he loses both himself and all of his emotions in the safety of your kisses is enough to get you a little lost too, if you let yourself get drawn in

As much as he might grandstand and monologue as he puts all that leadership charisma into charming you, the moment you hold his face in your hands, he's clinging to your soul and offering his own in return. Through his mouth. Into your mouth. Again, please -

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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egoistars · 6 months

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FUNNY VALENTINE wriothesley

your boyfriend doesn't seem to love you anymore, so what do you do? complain to neuvillette of course!

warnings: kissing, u being dramatic, neuvillette being done with ur shit, u and wriothesley being super gross and in love

you defeatedly slump into a chair in neuvillette's office and sigh for the fifteenth time in the past few minutes. the hydro dragon slides both his hands down his face, much like how he's seen the people of fontaine do when they were in distress.

"(name), if you don't tell me what's wrong i can't help you." in the several hundred years he's lived, neuvillette doesn't think he's spoken those words more than he has now. as he raises a delicate, white teacup to his lips, you burst into tears, violently twisting your head away from him.

"please, don't drink that in front of me," you cry, shoving your face into an overly expensive pillow on his couch. "that duke wriothesley would always drink tea and i cant stand to see it anymore! i will die parched if i have to!"

"if you're implying wriothesley doesn't love you anymore, you are surely mistaken. i'm not too familiar with human emotions, why don't you pay furina a visit? i'm sure she can understand you better."

at the sound of furina's name, you feel your body run cold. the image of your friend laughing until her face flushing crimson red dashes across your mind like an arrow, shooting you in the chest as you bleed out in an impending doom. you love her, truly, but she would never take you seriously in a situation like this.

"hmm, if you don't want to talk to furina, how about i call wriothesley and have you talk to him yourself? he is your partner, he'd be more than happy to talk through this issue with you."

"no! he's the problem! why would i want to talk to the problem? he doesn't love me anymore, neuvillette. he usually kissed my forehead twice before he leaves for work, but today," you pause for a moment, placing a hand on your chest to soothe the agonizing ache of your heart. "he only gave me one."

neuvillette promptly kicks you out.

"now what's this i hear about you crying to the iudex of fontaine about a broken heart?"

normally, the sound of wriothesley's smooth yet slightly mischievous voice would send you sprinting toward him. today however, you were distraught and feeling slightly petty. the only thing that can satisfy your heartbreak was him on his knees, sobbing with a gross trail of snot running down his nose, begging for your forgiveness.

you quickly learn that in the end, wriothesley always wins. with your back faced toward him, he wraps his muscular arms around you in a warm embrace, the fur of his uniform tickling your neck. grumbling unintelligible words, you dejectedly turn to face him but can't hide the thumping of your chest behind narrowed eyes and pouts. wriothesley laughs at you, pressing a kiss on your forehead, one on your left cheek, and one on your rights.

"i'm sorry for forgetting our routine, you petty minx? i ever do something as horrendous as that again, tell me and i'll make it up to you with as many kisses as you want, yeah? if that's not enough, i'll apologize with tears and jump into the primordial sea in your honor."

as the finale of this vomit-inducing opera, he follows the monologue by pressing a loving kiss to your waiting lips, pulling back to rest his forehead against yours.

"yeah you better keep your fucking promise," you threaten. the two of you know you don't intend to be mean by the way you melt into his touch. "i ordered your favorite today so you don't make me regret that."

maybe your boyfriend does love you after all.

#wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #wriothesley #wriothesley x you #wriothesley fanfic #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact

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that-sarcastic-writer · 2 years

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Bandage To A Broken Heart (Simon 'Ghost' Riley)

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Fem Medic!!Reader

Summary: You're a medic assigned to the 141 task force, Ghost is particularly fond of you and after an injury, he comes straight to your door. This is in Ghosts point of view (still second person, just from his perspective)

Warnings: explicit content, minors dni, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, praise kink, size kink (mans 6'4 whaddya expect), choking, dirty talk, language, mentions of injuries, mentions of reader being much shorter than ghost and has tattoos, no other physically descriptions

WC: 7k I'm so sorry

A/N: FINALLY, ive been writing this fic for like 3 weeks now and I finally got to finish this and omggg, Im down so fucking bad for this man, so naturally I wrote filth for him. I hope my ghost girlies enjoy this

You can also read this over at Ao3

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Ghost was no stranger to pain. Not in the slightest. Pain was second nature to him. He had spent his entire life experiencing and learning to manage his pain to the point where he no longer felt it. But he'd be lying if he said that your touch didn't take away his pain better than he ever could himself.

Always so careful and gentle, and always willing to help anyone that walked into your infirmary and in the field. He couldn't understand how someone so sweet and caring could've ever ended up in the military, but then again after the things he had seen you do in the field, he'd be a fool to ever doubt your capabilities.

He was no stranger to you either, afterall, the 141 had become your main patients after you were assigned to their task force as their physician a year ago. And for one reason or another, Ghost always ended up at your infirmary, whether it was for an actual injury or to ask about your day under the excuse of needing some painkillers he probably didn't really need through grumbles and that particularly dry humor of his that always made your day. And truly, he'd be lying if he said it didn't make his day too.

Simon Riley was down bad for you, and he didn't know what to do about it.

He had lost track of time. He wasn't sure if it was from the crash or just the overall shit show that his latest mission had been, but everything was an absolute blur to him. All he knew is that there was only one thing he wanted to do and one thing only. He wanted to see you. No, he needed to see you.

Price had insisted Ghost joined the others at the infirmary, but he knew it wouldn't be you stitching up his wounds. After a very disastrous previous mission, you were left with pretty severe injuries yourself, ones that left you at your own infirmary for a few days. And while you assured them you were ready to go back to your duties, which included accompanying the 141 to their latest assignment, Price and Ghost himself insisted you sat this one out, and took a couple more days to fully recover. After a good fifteen minutes of protesting, you were outvoted. There were medics on base after all. But they weren't you, so naturally Ghost refused to go to the infirmary. He didn't trust anyone else but you. He'd rather bleed out, he said.

Price wasn't one to question anything Ghost did, he could take care of himself. And he knew you were the only one he trusted to take care of him.

Before he even realized it, Ghost was dragging himself to your quarters, unsure if you'd tell him to fuck off and to go to the infirmary instead, or if you'd honor the idea that he only trusted your hands to fix his wounds and take away his pain, for a little while at least. He was hoping it was the ladder.

He knocked, once, twice and a third time, and with a pained groan he leaned his body against the door, trying to take some weight off his sore legs. He waited, his mind racing and thinking that maybe you weren't at the infirmary for a reason, that maybe he should leave you alone and let you take some well deserved rest.

But he needed to see you, right now.

He lifted his head only a few inches to find you, for the first time not in your usual uniform, but instead a plain dark green tee that left the pattern of black and colored ink on your right arm on full display, and sleeping pants. But you didn't look like you had been asleep, you looked wide awake. Though that quickly turned into what Ghost thought was a mixture of worry and relief on your features. He knew because he had that same look when you woke up after he had carried your unconscious body to the medivac.

"Will you ever learn to take care of yourself out there?" Were the first words out of your mouth as you scanned his slouched body, taking particular notice to the hand glued to his right shoulder.

He let out a dry chuckle and the way in which his entire body relaxed, his shoulders dropped and was no longer on high alert the second he saw you was more than obvious. Whether or not you did notice that or not was beyond his people reading skills.

He didn't have to ask or say anything, you simply moved out of the way and walked back. He followed you in, his heavy but surprisingly quick steps following close behind you until you eventually came to a stop. He stopped, standing to his full height and his dark eyes were fixed on you as he waited for you to grab your medical supplies, which he knew you always kept around just in case.

"I can't check for injuries with all that gear Simon." You motioned your free hand to his tactical vest strapped with just about every weapon he could carry and most likely a bullet covered plate underneath his jacket.

He stood silent for a long second, just taking in the way you said his name. You only ever called him Simon in private, where you both knew you were safe from everyone else, where your protective armors could come down for once. He liked it when you called him Simon, it reminded him that he was still, in fact, a human being, that he was still Simon Riley, not just the ghost of a dead man that hid behind the mask of a killing machine.

He gave you a nod and his hand went towards the clips that kept his harness and vest together. Slowly, minding the throbbing pain in his shoulder, he dropped his vest on the floor, his black jacket quickly following the same fate. This, though, earned a groan of discomfort when his shoulder moved, he closed his eyes momentarily as he pulled the sleeve from his injured shoulder before dropping his jacket to the ground as well. All that was left was his clinging black shirt leaving the black ink of his arm on full display, and of course, his balaclava and the skull plate stitched to the thick fabric.

You were already gloved up by then, your tools already laid out on a desk behind Simon. So once he was free on his gear, you looked up at him, now seeing the trail of dry blood that ran down his right arm, starting at his shoulder. You stared at him for a few seconds as he stood there before you spoke.

"I can't stitch your shoulder if you're all the way up there Simon, sit down." You rolled your eyes, forcing out an exasperated sigh and exaggerated motion for him to sit down by your desk.

"It's not my fault you're all the way on the ground down there. Would it kill ya to grow a few?" He said with his usual lack of emotion, but under his mask, his lips tugged up just a tiny bit at the glare you gave him as he sat down in front of you, because even with him sitting down, he was still half a head taller than you.

"I'll remember that next time you come to my infirmary asking for pain killers after you get shot or stabbed again." You shot him a nasty glare, but you both knew you didn't mean that. "Speaking of getting shot, how did this happen?"

He hissed barely loud enough to be heard through his mask when he felt you lift the sleeve of his shirt and scrunched it up to his shoulder to reveal a gash from a bullet just above his bicep. You glanced at him, eyes meeting his own for a second in a silent apology before you turned your attention back to his wound.

"Bastard shot me at close range, bullet must've grazed through my jacket. Good thing he was a shit shot though." He answered, his eyes watching you as you cleaned the dried blood around the wound, more focused on you than any pain he could be feeling in that moment.

"Y'know, had you let me go on that mission I probably would have cleaned this up hours ago." You muttered, swiping the wet cotton around his skin, giving him a minute or two to breathe before actually cleaning the wound.

"Had you gone with us you would've probably ended in the infirmary for another week." He quickly shot back, his naturally gruffly and raspy voice turning just a bit more so at the idea of it and you could feel his shoulders tense under your fingers. "Better me than you, eh?"

"That's not funny." Your eyes flickered in his direction and you narrowed them at him, only to find his brown eyes staring deep into you, not once looking away. Until you swiped a soaked cotton over his wound and he exhaled deeply and unevenly, his eyes closing momentarily as he felt his skin throb and burn.

"I'm not laughing," He eventually responded in a quiet tone, eyes finally opening to meet yours once again.

"Do you ever?" You asked with a tiny smile, earning the typical dead eyed glare Ghost gave everyone that annoyed him.

"No."

You looked away from him, lips curved up into a smile as you covered his clean wound with a gauze, not really needing stitches. You weren't looking at him then, so you missed the way he looked at you, his head slightly tilted and his eyes hooded as he memorized every detail of your face. He always did this, just in case it was the last.

"Anything else hurts?" You asked after a minute, taking your gloves off and throwing them on the desk and leaned on your left foot, head tilted as you looked at him again.

"Mmm," He half pointed to the left side of his face, "I hit my face when the heli crashed. 'm afraid I did some irreparable damage to that side of my face."

You stared at him, you blinked a few times and your eyebrows furrowed with confusion at his request. He knew you were trying to understand his request, he was giving you permission to see his face. For the first time and you weren't sure if he was being serious or not.

"I can't, y'know, the mask," You pointed to the thick fabric covering his face, noticing the tear on the left side but you made no effort to actually look, let alone touch.

You stood still, hands glued to your side, itching to remove his mask yourself, but you were afraid, afraid to cross an irreversible boundary. He could see it, he could see the way your hands shook and your teeth nervously dug into your bottom lip. And he wasn't much better, he could feel his heart pound in his chest and his breath pick up. But he wasn't scared.

He trusted you.

Simon watched you intensely, brown eyes watching every detail on your face, every expression as he reached up to the front of his balaclava and with a deep exhale he pulled it off his head. Your lips parted and your eyes slightly widened. He could hear how your own breath picked up in an instant. But you weren't scared or disgusted, not at all. All he saw was awe.

You slowly licked your lips as you stepped closer, until you were standing over his knee with your parted legs. With a shuddered breath you leaned down, eyes lingering on his own before they flicked down to the cut on his left cheek. Your hand ghosted over his face, but didn't quite touch him, for some reason, this felt like another boundary you didn't want to push unless he said so.

He noticed your hesitation, and he didn't blame you. But he didn't need to say anything, he simply nodded.

He shuddered when he felt your soft fingers graze his skin and he momentarily closed his eyes, before opening them again to watch you bring a wet cotton to clean the dried blood on his face.

“What happened to your face?” You asked quietly after a long silence, brushing the cotton over the cut that appeared to be a couple inches long right across his cheekbone.

“Enemy missile, the heli crashed. I dunno how I got out of there. I blacked out and next thing I knew I was being dragged out of that heli by Soap.” He explained, the memories of it all still being too blurry to remember clearly. But he did remember one thing; the thoughts going through his head in that moment. “We lost a lot of good soldiers.”

“You’re lucky all you got out of that was a cut on your face and probably a concussion. You could’ve died.” Your throat nearly closed up then, your fingers stopping to rest on his face. You were both used to this idea of death, of going on an assignment and never coming back, but that didn’t make your heart ache any less.

He turned his head to look at you, his eyes searched for yours, but you weren’t looking at him, “Well I’m alive aren’t I?”

“Yeah, and you’re one lucky motherfucker for that,” Your voice was close to breaking, and your hands were shaking. Was that anger he heard in your voice? Or was it panic at the idea of him dying? “I could’ve helped, I just wish I had been there.”

His gaze turned hard and his jaw tightened, “I don’t.” His tone shifted, there was nothing lighthearted about it, he was being dead serious. And you actually looked at him this time, and you found his eyes. But you didn’t respond, you couldn’t, so you stayed silent as you gave yourself the time to actually take him in.

"So what's the diagnosis Doc, am I gonna make it?" The low timber of his voice startled you after a long minute or two, but not because it was loud, he barely raised his voice above a whisper, it startled you because you were so focused on taking in each and every one of his features, the unique shape of his nose, his sharp jaw, the three day stubble that scratched the pads of your fingers, his light eyelashes that contrasted the dark paint smeared over his eyes. You memorized all of them in case you never saw them again.

A small smile eventually tugged at your lips and you chuckled softly, nodding, "Looks like it, you'll have a scar though."

He chuckled, and this time, you could see the tiny curl of his lips when he did so, "I can live with that."

His lips fell back into a flat line and instead, his eyes locked onto yours for a long second and he could swear he could hear your heartbeat. Or maybe it was his own. He wasn’t sure, all he knew was that he was this close and he couldn’t stop the thoughts in his head.

Something was different. Something in the air felt different. The careful touches of your hands, they were different. And he felt different too.

He leaned in, stopping only when he heard you take a small breath. One of his hands rested on your hip then, and when you didn't tense or shoved him away, he pulled you closer with a tight grip

“Tell me to stop, right now.” His voice was low and quiet, but you heard him loud and clear. And you didn't want him to. He didn't want to either.

"Simon…"

He didn’t have to hear anything else, he heard all he needed to hear. The way his name fell from your tongue, the shakiness in your voice and the way you also leaned in, like your body was gravitating towards him. He knew.

His large hand found the back of your neck and he pulled you in, lips capturing yours into a kiss that left you without air. His other arm sneaked around your waist to pull you closer and forced you down on his thigh. You gasped softly at the sudden movement, but you welcomed it nonetheless and you threw your arms over his neck as his mouth covered yours. He took it slow, much to your surprise. For a man known for his brutality he was surprisingly gentle. He kissed you slowly, his tongue eventually slipped into your mouth, but it never felt messy or rushed. You honestly didn't know how long he held you like this, but eventually he let you go to breathe when he started to feel you panting.

"This okay?" He asked barely above a whisper, the raspy ring of his voice filling your ears in a way that made your thighs unconscious clench against his leg. Which he definitely felt, but he kept that to himself.

"Yeah, more than okay." You answered with a breathless laugh.

"Good."

Both of his hands were on your waist and he was on his feet in an instant. He completely forgot about the pain shooting through his arm when he hoisted you around his hips. It caught you off guard and you were wrapping your legs around his torso instinctively.

"Simon your arm—"

"I don't give a shit about my arm." He had his uninjured arm holding your thighs and he was looking at you with this look in his eyes you had never seen from him, but you liked it.

You leaned down, lips crashing against his own with an urgency that made him want to find the bed even quicker. He eventually figured it out and your back was hitting the mattress before you even realized it. He held himself above you, your legs still wrapped around his waist. His lips left yours and attached themselves to your neck. He wouldn't leave a mark knowing everyone would see it, but he still took his time finding that spot that made you squirm under him while his own hands were making work of exploring. He ran a cautious hand into your shirt, calloused fingers grazing your skin until he found your breast, and he squeezed. You shivered under his touch and an unconscious moan escaped your lips. He could himself twitch against the constraint of his denim jeans at the mere sound. Fuck, if that's what you sounded when he barely touched you, he could only imagine what you would sound like wrapped around him. And he wondered when was the last time someone touched you like this. Probably as long as him.

"When was the last time someone touched you like this?" His words caught your ear in a haze, it took you a minute to register them, but when you felt him pitch your covered nipple you answered.

"I don't—” You swallowed, blinking a few times as you tried to clear your foggy mind, “A long time, years I think." You eventually answered, eyes glued to the ceiling as you tried to keep your head straight.

He gave you a quiet hum, his hand moving down to your stomach, stopping at the waistband of your pants, and he lifted his head to look at you, "Did you ever think about me touching you like this?"

The way his words left his mouth, the raspiness in his accented voice and coated with arousal, it made your throat close up, and the way his intense and dark eyes were fixated on you didn't help either. You felt so small under this mountain of a man and his gaze, all you could do was nod.

"Words love, use 'em."

“Yes.”

A subtle smirk tugged his lips, the confirmation that you had wanted him as much as he had wanted you igniting a hunger and need that could only be satiated with one thing. You.

He lifted his head to capture your lips in a feverish kiss that was so rough it made you gasp into his mouth. You snaked a hand the back of his head, one that quickly took a hold of his messy short brown strands, a motion that didn’t go unnoticed by him. The growl that came from his throat was otherwise muffled by your lips, but what he did next, however, didn't go unnoticed either. His large hands found the collar of your shirt, and without hesitating, he tugged and ripped the fabric right in half. The moan that ripped from your throat at his manhandling was anything but subtle, and he swallowed it happily. He pulled back, tugging your bottom lip as he did so and his dark hungry eyes fixated on the newly exposed skin once he laid eyes on you. He took a hard swallow as his hands traveled to your chest and much like he had just done with your shirt, he ripped your bra open by the thin fabric that connected both cups.

“Fuck, look at you,” He breathed out, hands brushing over hardened nipples as he took in the sight of you in front of him, chest completely exposed, your hair loose and pooling around your head and arms now sprawled above your head, expectant and ready to do as he asked, “You’re absolutely perfect.”

“I could say the same about you,” You replied, breathless and reaching to tug at the hem of his own shirt with urgency. “Please Si.”

Fuck, how could he ever deny you anything? And more so when you ask him like that?

With a short nod, he moved his hands from your chest and grabbed the back of his shirt, quickly pulling it over his head. And fuck, the amount of gear this man wore definitely didn’t sell him short. His muscled chest was covered in various scars, ones you had seen, and others you hadn’t. And from his neck hung his dog tags, ones you had never ever seen him wear. Lord this man was going to be the death of you just as you were going to be his.

“Listen to me,” He said through a heavy breath, pulling you from your frenzied state for just a second, “If you want me to stop you tell me, no fancy words, tell me stop and I will. Is that understood?”

It took you a couple seconds to respond, your mind already foggy with the need to feel his touch, but you nodded at his words regardless, “Yes sir.”

Your hands found the back of his neck and you crashed your lips against his with a newly found urgency that made him groan into your mouth. His calloused hands found the waistband of your pants, and he tugged them down without hesitation. With a hard swallow you lifted your hips off the bed, allowing him to pull them down, your panties quickly following. He tossed them behind him somewhere to join his previously discarded vest and jacket.

He brushed a long finger through your folds, swallowing the choked out moan that came out of your mouth. You shuddered under him, your thighs unconsciously closing around his hand as he drew circles around the bundle of nerves. You didn’t even remember the last time you were touched by hands that weren’t you own, and fuck, his felt so much better already.

“No, no,” He tisked, pulling back to glance down at his hand practically disappearing between your thighs before he gave you a stern look, “Keep those legs open for me.”

You did as you were told, you shakily spread your legs apart, and you were rewarded with a thick finger dipping into your entrance with ease. He took a deep breath as he felt your walls clench around his finger and he could feel himself twitch in his pants, wondering just how you would feel around his cock instead.

With a hiss of pleasure, you threw your head back and your hips slightly lifted off the mattress as he filled you with two of his long fingers. He drew them in and out until he could feel you start to drip on the palm of his hand.

“Shit, shit, fuck.” Your lips fell open, silent cries leaving your mouth as he began to scissor you open with each snap of his wrist. It wasn't long before you could start to feel that delicious burn in the pit of your stomach.

His thumb eventually found your nub, he pressed it and rubbed circles around it as he buried his thick fingers to the knuckle each time. He could already feel it, the way your walls clenched around his fingers, your shuddering thighs, your hands fisting the sheets. His lips found the shell of your ear, and as he curled his fingers against your most sensitive spot he spoke.

“You’re doing so good,” He coaxed, his thumb pressing your clit with enough force to make you twitch and roll your eyes into the back of your head, “This what you need love?”

“Yes!”

“Yes what?” He slammed his fingers knuckles deep, his palm rutting against your clit. He could have you screaming anything he wanted and he knew it.

“Yes Lieutenant!”

“Good. Good girl.”

He knew you were close, he could feel it. He was slamming his fingers in and out of you, burying them knuckle deep and crooking them against your most sensitive spot over and over. Until you were nothing more than a shaking and whimpering mess, begging for release. And he was gladly going to give it to you.

“O-oh fuck. Fuck Simon please!”

He nearly lost it when he heard you scream his name, your voice shaky with pleasure, and your own body overwhelmed with pleasure. But if there was anything he had a lot of, it was self control. He had a mission to accomplish. And he wasn’t going to stop until he had you falling apart under his touch. Which happened soon enough. One of your hands flew to grip his wrist, the lewd sound of his palm slapping against your dripping core filling your ears in the most delicious way possible. And in a quick flash of a blinding heat, you tossed your head and buried your face in his shoulder, your toes lifting from the mattress and curled as your juices coated his hand.

“Goddamn,” He cursed under his breath, the sound of his name leaving your mouth in a quiet whimper filling his ears as his fingers slowed, but never quite left you, “My name sounds so good when you say it like that.”

You barely caught his words as he spoke under his breath, but you did, and all you could say in response was a high pitched hum as you tried to catch your breath. Your eyes were still screwed shut and your legs were still shaking when his fingers left you. With a quiet hiss, your head fell to the side as you brought a hand to your burning face, trying to compose yourself.

“You still with me Doctor?” Simon spoke, amusement coating his tone. You chuckled softly and gave him a nod. “I need verbal confirmation love.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at him because you knew he was teasing you, but you indulged him regardless. You turned your head in his direction and opened your eyes to find his own glued to your face of course.

“Solid copy Lieutenant.” You finally said with a small eye roll. He looked amused, and he nodded. But what caught your attention was the growing smirk on his face as his eyes eventually landed on his hand as he held it out of your eyesight. “What’s so funny?”

“This,” He brought his hand closer to your face, and even through your slightly blurry vision, you could see it glisten. You opened your eyes more and your jaw dropped, your face burning with embarrassment. With a low chuckle, he rubbed his fingers together and then spread his index and middle finger apart to show the extent of the wetness you had left on his hand.

“Oh my god.” You threw your hands over your face, effectively mortified, you weren’t sure why, but it made you feel pathetic. Simon, on the other hand, was quite pleased.

“Gettin’ shy are we?” His lips brushed against your ear, and you couldn’t help but shove him slightly.

Both of your hands eventually fell to his chest as your eyes found his brown ones, and the look he found behind those eyes of yours made him want to take you over and over until you were nothing but a shaking and whimpering mess.

“Lay down Simon.” You eventually said, both hands flat on his scar littered chest. He took a deep breath and he nodded slowly.

“Yes ma’am.”

He was on his back in an instant, eyes never leaving you as you threw a leg over his hips and sat just above his crotch. Your thighs burned with ache as they were stretched out over his massive body. His hands held your hips as he watched you through hooded eyes, very tempted to shove you down on his cock, but he let you take your time, this time.

“Let me ride you, please.” Your words were quiet, pleading and desperate, and they shot straight to his cock. He honestly didn’t know where this side of you came from, pleading and so eager to please him, but fuck he wanted to explore every inch of it. His fingers dug into your hips, but he remained still, only nodding.

“Permission granted.” He replied with a quiet hiss, his patience growing thin the longer he had you on top of him, your wetness coating his lower abdomen. “Go on.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. Your shaky hands fumbled with his belt, the buckle ratling a few times as you tried to undo it, the button of his denim jeans quickly following. He momentarily closed his eyes when your hands brushed against his clothed erection. He blew out an exhale through his nose as he lifted you up just enough to be able to pull himself from the confines of his boxers. He let out a long breathy groan as he freed himself, his cock slapping against his stomach. With a hard swallow, you held yourself above his cock, hands resting against his lower abdomen to brace yourself as he lined himself up at your entrance, coating himself in your slick.

He was expecting you to take your time, to take him slowly, so when you sank down on him, his length slipping inside a few inches before being met with resistance, he had to take a deep breath.

“Easy..” He coaxed, easing a hand up and down your stretched out thighs, watching closely the way your eyes closed and your face twisted with a mixture of slight pain and pleasure.

“Fuck you’re so big..” You blurted out between breaths. Simon opened his eyes in surprise at your remark, he knew he was significantly big, but he wasn’t expecting to hear you say it. But he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his cock twitch the slightest bit.

“You’re doing good. Slow.” He spoke lowly, guiding your hips little by little, hissing softly each time you took another inch of him, until you sat fully on him, and even then you couldn’t fit all of him. He allowed himself to close his eyes as you sat still, your hips only rolling ever so slightly as you adjusted to the massive size of him. “There ya go, atta girl.”

When he felt you were ready, he guided your hips up, lifting you off his cock inch by agonizing inch, his eyes stuck to where his cock left your soaked cunt, and when he was almost all the way out, he pushed your hips down without a warning. You let out a quiet cry, you dug your nails into his abs and your thighs tensed. His eyes shot up to your face with concern and he sat still, but you were quickly shaking your head.

“I’m okay Simon, please.” Your eyes found his and you nodded reassuringly, teeth digging into your bottom lip eagerly. He squeezed your hips and nodded.

You were rocking and rolling your hips, your walls clutching his length with a bit of resistance. And you could tell he was fighting the urge to thrust up each time you rolled your hips. But he stayed still, only his fingers dug into your hips, surely to leave bruises in the morning. His eyes were closed and he was muttering under his breath as you moved at your own pace. For now.

“Fuck, come on love,” He encouraged, voice restrained as you eventually moved with more ease. His words gave you a new found confidence, and with such, you lifted yourself up and sank back down on him, and again, and again, until your whimpers turned into moans. “That’s it. Fuck that’s it, take what you need.”

You’d be damned if you didn’t do as he said.

You leaned forward, bracing your hands on his chest as you bounced on his cock. His eyes moved from your face to where your bodies connected, he watched with glazed eyes as his cock disappeared inside your walls, only to appear again covered in your juices. He focused on it, the sound of his belt buckle clicking each time you bounced filling his ears.

“You’re taking my cock like a good girl, aren’t ya?” His words came out through breathy groans as he guided your hips again and his own hips involuntarily lifted every once in a while.

“Please Simon, more, I want more— Fuck—”

He had to take in the way you whined his name, the way you begged, it was so fucking intoxicating and he never wanted to stop hearing it.

“Yeah? You want more?”

You were nodding frantically, your movements only doing so much to give you what you both needed and he knew it.

He sat up, his chest now pressed against yours as he sneaked his tattooed arm behind your back, holding you upright as he thrusted upwards. He found a pace quick, and even faster and deeper than the one you had made yourself. He had you twitching and shaking in his grip as cries ripped from your throat in a matter of a minute or two. And you definitely weren’t complaining, his cock was pounding deeper, hitting that perfect spot better than you could ever get it there yourself.

“Yes! Fuck, Simon please, please don’t stop.” You were begging frantically, your hands landing on his back and your nails dragged across his scar littered back and shoulders. He took in the way you pleaded, the way you moaned, and took particular note of the squeal you gave when his thick cock hit your g-spot with ease. And he did so, over, and over, until all you could say was his name between cries.

“Yeah, like that?” Again, and again his cock brushed against the perfect spot. You couldn’t even hold yourself up anymore, your face was buried in his shoulder and tears slipped from your eyes.

“Yes!” You sobbed into his shoulder, your walls clenching around his cock in the same way you had around his fingers a little while before.

“Shit, come on, come on. Be a good girl and come for me.” He muttered, not once faltering his pace, only bringing you closer to the edge with each delicious drag of his cock. He slipped a hand into your hair, fingers fisting around the strand a as he pulled your head back, making sure you were looking at him, “Look at me, that’s it, keep those pretty eyes on me when you come.”

His name slipped from your tongue over and over as you came, somehow managing to keep your eyes open as your whole body shuddered violently. Tears slipped from your eyes as you sobbed his name and you brought your forehead to rest against his, one of your shaky hands resting on the back of his neck. The hand on your hair moved your face, and his fingers brushed against your cheek, catching your tears.

“Fuuuck, that’s fucking it. That’s my girl.” He groaned out as he fucked you through your orgasm.

He felt your wetness coat his cock even more, allowing him to slip just ever so deeply until he was nearly rutting against you, the patches of hair at the base of his cock brushing against your oversensitive clit. With a guttural groan, the hand on your face slipped to the base of your neck and he held it between his long fingers as he fucked into you with a new urgency, like he was chasing his own release. He fucked you like it too, his thrusts were sharper and shallow, and they faltered.

“Fuckin’ hell,” He muttered, droplets of sweats rolling from his forehead and mixing with the already messy grease paint covering his eyes. His forehead fell to your chest as held your neck in place, “I’m right there… Fuck I—”

He was about to pull himself out of you, but you slipped out from your drunkenly euphoric state for just a second to slam down on his cock until your hips met, hands on his shoulders as you sank down on him with enough force to slip a breathy moan from him.

“I have an IUD. I-I want you to, please.” You said shakily into his ear, your words barely coherent, but you knew what you meant, and he did too.

A low growl ripped from his throat as he gave you a few more thrusts before his hips faltered, his other hand found your ass and he held you down on his cock. His fingers squeezed your throat and a guttural moan left his lips as he spilled himself inside you.

“Bloody fuckin' Christ,” he panted into your chest, most likely smearing his war paint on your chest, but you honestly didn’t give a fuck. “You’re fuckin’ perfect.”

You gave him a weak hum, eyes closing as you tried to breathe once he let go of your neck. “I’m guessing your arm doesn’t hurt anymore?” You laughed weakly, brushing a hand under the gauze you had placed there earlier.

He lifted his head, brown eyes as intense as ever as he slightly tilted his head, “What arm?”

You shot him a playful glare and shook your head as you unwrapped yourself from him and with a long breath of exhaustion, landed on your back next to him, your mixed releases dripping down your thigh. He chuckled quietly to himself at the sight of his jeans, mixed releases pooling at the front of the denim. With a sigh, he tucked himself into his boxers, catching a glance of you, chest still glistening with sweat, hair messy and pooling above your head as you lied with closed eyes. He shook his head, about to stand up to find something to clean his mess with when you spoke.

“Simon?” His eyes found yours on him and he nodded, allowing you to continue. You bit your lip and sat up with a sharp exhale, your sore muscles already screaming at you for your reckless activities, “How long have we known each other?”

The question hit him unexpectedly, his eyebrows slightly furrowed but he answered quickly, not even having to think about it, “About three years.”

“Why did you take your mask off now?” You dared to ask, the curiosity of what suddenly changed eating you up.

His lips fell in a flat line, his eyes opening as he remembered that he had, in fact, taken his mask off, he had felt so comfortable that he had forgotten he wasn’t wearing it. He didn't answer right away, he sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving you as you watched him expectant. You brought the sheets up to your chest, bringing them with you as you moved closer to him, until your shoulder was touching his. You looked up at him, but you never rushed him, you simply waited patiently.

“When the heli crashed,” He began, “I knew I was going to die. And I was ready to die. And then I thought..” His lips fell in a flat line again as he turned his head to look at you. Your eyes were glossy, but you didn’t cry, you simply nodded for him to continue, “All I could think about in that moment is that I was going to leave this world when the only woman I had ever cared about didn’t even know what I looked like.”

Your lips fell open and your eyes widened with awe. He didn’t have to say the words, you knew what he meant.

“Simon…”

“Either of us could die at any moment, I realized that when I carried your unconscious body through that field, and I realized it when the heli crashed, didn’t make sense to pretend I don’t give a shit about you.”

Your hand found his face and you pulled him down into a deep kiss, one that said everything you both needed to say, everything you couldn’t say with words.

You were the remedy to all his injuries and the bandage to his damaged heart. You were all he needed and he’d be damned if he let that go.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley

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stinkysam · 8 months

Text

Buggy the Clown - So no head ?

Warning : nsfw, mouth fucking

Genre : smut

Synopsis : "One thought that won't get out of my head about Buggy, in the scene where he keeps annoying everyone/scaring Usopp while he's making explosives, what if the reader decides to "give the guys a break from the annoying clown" by going on a walk with him, but really it's just an excuse to get some time alone with Buggy and uhh get some head, pun intended ;) Bonus points if reader promises to return the favor once Buggy gets his body back." -anon

Reader : male (he/you)

A/N : Part TWO

-cis women dni-

Today had been a tough day for the clown. Spending most of it in a sandy bag or with unfriendly captors.

"Hey ! Morning champ !" Buggy laughed as Zoro arrived.

"I know Luffy made a deal with you to find Arlong, clown, but if this is another one of your tricks-" Zoro warned.

"What are you gonna do ? Bleed on me ?" The clown said, laughing again before Zoro grabbed him by his bandana to hold him above the sea, ready to throw him out.

"Whoa, whoa, wait, whoa, whoa, whoa ! What ! Because I said bleed on me ? You can bleed on me if you want ! I mean, a deal's a deal, all right ? You want your map back, I want my bodyyy." He quickly spat, laughing once more.

"How do we know you're not leading us to a trap ?"

"Zoro, buddy, honors amongst pirates, right ? C'mon I can sing a nice sea shanty to pass the time ! Ooh there once was a girl with tangerine hair," unbothered Zoro moved back toward the barrel. "Stole my map and left me stranded somewhere, truly a crafty and crooked young lass," Usopp opened it for Zoro to put him inside. "But you can't deny she had a spectacular- Aw ! Right on my nose !" He yelled as he fell inside the barrel before Zoro closed it.

If only it had stopped there. But soon he was put back in the dark and humid sandy bag. Ew. Really ? Couldn't you or someone on the crew dry it a bit ? He's not asking for cushions and blankets, you could at least put him somewhere not sandy. No ? Ugh. Boor.

Then, later, his abuse, as he would call it, continued.

He watched as Usopp worked on his explosives, hands shaking as focused to not spill anything.

"Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, BOOM !!" The clown yelled, laughing as Usopp jumped, along with everyone in the room.

"Yeah I'm gonna get some air." Nojiko announced as you watched her leave.

"Can you just… be quiet ?" Asked Usopp, hoping to get some peace. He was clearly stressing out of his mind.

"Aw, come on. Where's the fun in that ?" The clown teased, enjoying himself as Usopp's hands shook more. "Do you really think your little toys can get through the skin of a fishman ?" He asked quietly, his eyes never leaving him.

"These are smoke bombs."

"Smoke ? That's rich… Makes me think of how long it's been since I've had any smoked fish." He gulped, imagining the taste in his mouth. God, he was so hungry.

"Maybe if you guys had some extra ?" He looked at Sanji. "Please ?"

You watched them, waiting for any of them to get him something but none moved.

"Ah, screw you guys ! Arlong's gonna bite the shit out of you anyway ! You know you don't stand a chance against him and his army. And you dumb pieces of garbage, you ain't gonna do anything against that stupid- mmhf mh" before he could continue Sanji had pushed a full tangerine in the clown's mouth, shutting him up efficiently.

"New guy shuts up the clown head."

Buggy tried to cough it out, to say something but couldn't, struggling with the fruit in his mouth.

"Okay, enough." You said, getting up from the table and pulling the tangerine out of Buggy's mouth, ignoring Sanji's and Usopp surprised stare.

"Puh ! Thanks handsome." He said with a wink, clicking his tongue after stretching his jaw.

"Let me take care of him. You're coming with me."

"I'm gonna eat ?" Buggy said with wide excited eyes before squinting them at you.

"Kinda."

"What are you planning ? What's your deal." He asked, suspicious. All of the strawhats avoided him, already annoyed by him before even having said something, even the new guy couldn't stand him anymore and suddenly one of them was down to keep him ?

Smells like bullshit to Buggy.

"Yeah, [Name]. What's up ?" Usopp asked, no longer focused on his explosives.

"You guys are clearly on your toes around him for whatever reasons so I'll keep him, I don't care."

"Whatever reason ?" Repeated Sanji.

"Why ? [Name]." Usopp asked, confused.

You shrugged.

"I like him. He's fun."

"You hear that boys ? I'm fun ! Clearly a taste you lack."

"He's fun ?" Repeated Usopp, frowning. Really, he wasn't getting it.

Buggy smiled and laughed loudly as Zoro walked back inside with Luffy.

"What's going on ? Why is it laughing like that ?" Zoro asked.

"It ?" Buggy said, immediately stopping laughing.

"[Name] wants to keep the head." Usopp immediately answered, speaking over the clown.

"[Name] said he likes him." Sanji added, making you scoff. These two…

"Look at him, he's all cute." You said, grabbing his head to rub your cheek against his. You and Buggy smiled together awkwardly with your teeth showing, wide eyed, as if you were trying to smile for the first time ever. Was that your way of trying to be convincing ?

Zoro and Sanji raised an eyebrow while Luffy and Usopp tilted their heads to the side.

"C'mon, guys, he has nobody, no body and stayed in a sandy bag, I would've been bored out of my mind as well. And pissy as fuck."

"He gets me !" Buggy said. A little bit more and there'd be fake tears as well. "And I'm not pissy ! I'm angry and hungry, I haven't eaten in-"

"Can't believe you're taking his side." Zoro simply said, ignoring him, crossing his arms.

"Well, call me too empathetic because I'm gonna care for the sad clown."

"Don't ignore me ! And I'm not a sad clown ! But I'm about to be ! Do you know the last time I ate something ?!"

Zoro hummed while looking at you, still ignoring him, he clearly wanted to say something more but deciding against it. He rolled his eyes and walked away. If you wanted hell then, who was he to stop you from getting it.

"Hey ! Stop ignoring me !"

You turned to face Buggy's head, he had a toothy smile, clearly forced and awkward.

"Don't overdo it or you go back in the sand bag."

"Ugh." Buggy grumbled, his smile falling, rolling his eyes. "Fine. Where are we going ?" He asked as you carefully held him up.

"Outside."

"Ah ?"

"I'm going to teach you how to be quiet." You said with a grin, ignoring your friends' confused stare. What did you mean by that ?

Buggy raised an eyebrow before a smirk invited itself on his face.

"Oh yeah ? And how are you gonna do that ?" He said as you exited the house.

You walked a bit, not too far from the house in case they still needed you but enough to be out of earshot and stopped. You sat down and placed Buggy next to you as you grabbed a tangerine.

He watched you, staring intently as you peeled it. Getting rid of the small white strings on it and opening it in small pieces.

"Here." You said pushing one piece against his lips, waiting for him to open his mouth. "This isn't smoked fish but that'll feed y-" you didn't have the time to finish your sentence that he was already eating it up.

"Don't care !" He said in between bites.

Buggy sighed as you made him eat the fruit, finally putting something in his belly after a couple days of not eating. It wasn't much but at least it was something.

"Hey, that's mine !" He yelled as you took a bite, the fresh juice flooding your mouth.

"My hands feed who they want. And right now, they wants to feed me."

"Oh come on ! I've been good ! Sweetheart !?"

"Okay, okay. You've been good." You said, patting his head as he tried to move it away.

You pushed the piece of tangerine back against his lips and he wasted no time eating it. Fearing you would take it away.

"I just wanted a taste, I'm not gonna steal it from you." You said with a small laugh.

"Coming from the person who stole my map, that's rich."

"Your map ?" You looked at him, amused at how he still called it his when it never was to begin with. But before he could retort, you pushed another piece of tangerine in his mouth. He glared at you, debating whether he should try to bite you or not.

"Why are you feeding me anyway ? Not that I'm complaining." He watched you eat another bit of the fruit, sucking the juice in before chewing it.

"Told you. I like you." You said nonchalantly as you poked his forehead. One of his eyes twitched.

"Like me, huh ?" He couldn't believe you.

"Yeah you're cute." You continued, without hesitation as you smiled at him. He stared at you and for a second he was glad his body wasn't there or he would've fallen into pieces at your comment. He tried to regain his composure, clearing his throat and looking away while you still stared at him.

"I don't know if I would call myself cute bu-"

"Why wouldn't you ?"

Your question caught him off guard as he looked up at you. The answer seemed obvious though. His nose. Big round red nose right in the middle of his face. Hello ?

But he wouldn't tell you that. He's not gonna open up to you -or anyone- in the middle of no-fucking-where.

You grabbed his head so you would be face to face and tilted your head.

"Why wouldn't you be cute ?" You repeated. You had to be fucking with him. He chewed the inside of his cheeks, unsure of what to say or do. If he was more than a head he'd push you away but right now he couldn't do that. Only able to stare at you and be glad his heart is too far away for you to hear it beat loudly.

"You seemed upset when Luffy tried to touch your nose, is it about that ?" You finally asked and he looked at you with wide eyes. You better be careful with your words becau-

"I think it's a really cute nose." You said with a grin. "I like red."

That's… not what he had expected. Usually people laugh or grimace at his nose, they don't look at it as if it's… a good thing ? He blinks several time. He wants to retort something mean but nothing comes to mind.

"Can you put me down ?" He asks instead. You hum and do as asked, placing him back next to you.

You continued to give him the tangerine, taking a bite every now and then.

"Aahh" He opened his mouth, waiting for you to give him the last bit. You gave it to him and he thanked you while chewing it, glancing your way awkwardly. Shit, now he didn't know what to say.

"I'm not gonna give you head."

"What ?" You laughed, unable to believe you heard him right.

"Just because you fed me and complimented me doesn't mean you'll get to fuck me."

"Aw, bummer, I was looking to it." You said, still smiling.

"Well. You won't. Plus I'm just a head, so…"

"Buggy. Head." You said staring at him, hoping he'd get it.

"Yeah ? And ?"

"You're exactly what's required to give head. A head. Literally." You said and he stared at you.

"I'm still not gonna give it to you !"

"I wasn't asking ! I was just saying !"

"Aah !" He yelled, frustrated with the conversation and you laughed. "Let's stop talking about it !"

You nodded and stayed silent, your lips still curved into a smile. A minute or two passes before he talks again.

If he had a body, he'd be tapping his feet and pacing.

"Fuck now I can't stop thinking about it." He grumbled.

"Yeah me neither." You stared at each other unsure of what to do.

"Well, you have the dick, I don't, so… get on with it !"

You quickly got up and grabbed the head, pressing it between your legs.

He rubbed his face against your groin, using his nose to nudge against your growing hard on. He generally would've hated to use his nose like this, but he had no other choice, his hands being so far away and unable to touch you any other way. Your humming encouraged him to continue, wanting to hear more of your noises. Feeling your dick twitch inside your clothes against his skin.

You quickly pushed your shorts and your underwear to your feet and Buggy gulped as he breathed loudly at the sight of your dick standing up right in front of him. He looked at you for a second, a flash of uncertainty crossing his features. He was only just a head, after all. Wouldn't he need his hands to please you as well ?

"You're gonna do great, Bugs." You reassured him. "All I need is your mouth right now. And you clearly know how to run it."

He nodded and you smiled, caressing his face before pushing your thumb in his mouth. When you pulled it out, you let your thumb rub against his lipstick, smearing his make up more than it already was.

"C'mon, just get to it already !" He barked, making you snort.

You grabbed his head, pushing the tip of your cock inside his mouth, past his teeth. Feeling the wet and warm walls of his cheek against your sensitive skin.

His eyes never left yours as you slowly moved him up and down your length.

Your whole dick was inside him, tickling the back of his throat for a few seconds, resting there. You could tell he was trying not to choke with how his eyes shone with tears. His round nose was pushed against your pelvis.

"Good boy…" You cooed, voice slightly shaky. "Takin' all of me."

You pulled out and he let out a big huff, exhaling loudly with his tongue out. You wasted no time and pushed it back in with your cock. Making him hum in surprise.

"Ahh…" You let out, closing your eyes as your head hung back. You began to move Buggy's head faster, your hips rocking against his face with his chin pressing against your balls.

You could hear him choke on your dick, trying to breathe or to cough, or both at the same time. But you didn't stop, only to let him breathe from time to time.

Heavy strings of saliva connected the inside of his mouth to your dick as you pulled out, letting him inhale before pushing yourself back in. Making him choke loudly.

"Not- not too loud, or you'll get us caught. Is that what you want, Bugs ?" You breathed out and his eyes widened. The idea of possibly being caught lit something in him. Both wanting and dreading for this to happen.

You could hear the rest of the crew talk loudly and laugh inside the house, blissfully unaware you were fucking the head.

One noise too loud and they would know. Curiously looking outside for the source of it as he gags and chokes on you.

God, he didn't want you to stop, he wanted you to continue and use him as you please. Which you did, fucking his face roughly, smearing some of his make up onto your own skin.

You kept using his mouth as you moaned quietly, you could feel the flat of his tongue move against your cock, rubbing along the veins.

You slowed down despite wanting to go even faster, not wanting to cum just yet. Wanting the pleasure to last a little bit longer.

You allowed Buggy to regain some of his composure, breathing loudly as if he had been drowning. He coughed and cleared his throat loudly while you sighed.

"Fuck, love, you really don't play a-" You didn't give him the time to finish his sentence, pushing back his face against your dick for him to lick. Which he did.

You moved his head slightly to help him lick all of it, from your balls to your leaking tip before pushing yourself back inside his mouth, all the way in. This time he didn't gag.

While one hand remained behind his head to keep him in place, the other gently caressed him under his red and white bandana. You started to move when he tried to swallow around your dick, squeezing it deliciously in his warm embrace.

You found back your old pace rather quickly, fucking his mouth and his throat carelessly while he tried to suck more of it.

You came in his mouth, hot semen shooting down his throat as he choked trying to swallow it without biting your cock off. You remained still for a few seconds, his face pressed against you as you caught back your breath before pulling him out.

He coughed, spitting on himself a little bit as he regained his breath. He looked at you with tears in his eyes from choking so much, trying to blink them away. You helped him, gently and carefully wiping his eyes, grimacing as you smudged some of his make up.

"Oops."

"What ? What is it ?"

"Nothin'"

He huffed and you brought his head to your face, pecking his cheek delicately.

"I'll repay you, I promise." You said, pulling your shorts back on.

"You better ! I'm left all hot and fucking bothered here !"

In Arlong Park, some of the fishmen laughed at the sight of Buggy's body. Not because they found it particularly funny. Although it was. But because they noticed the tent in the clown's pants with wet stain as his hands struggled in their restraints, clearly wanting to do something about it but unable to.

#male reader #m!reader #buggy the clown #buggy the clown imagine #opla #opla x male reader #opla imagine #one piece live action #one piece live action imagine #opla buggy #one piece #one piece imagine #one piece x male reader

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nervousd · 1 year

Text

BEING HIS EX LOVER

→ CONTINUATION

#SYNOPSIS— headcanon on being the ex lover of yandere! human Miles Quaritch and meeting yandere! na’vi Miles Quaritch

#WARNING(S)— yandere behavior, obsession, fixation, unhealthy thoughts, kidnapping, delusion/illusion(?)

#CHARACTER(S)— Colonel Miles Quaritch

When he first woke up in his new body, his memories came in short snippets. Certain memories were still fuzzy, and he had trouble remembering certain things from the past. But they had come to him slowly. The most frequent memories were of you; embracing him from behind, flirting remarks. He had been plagued by you, constantly seen in every corner of his vision. At one point his memories would bleed into reality. You would be there beside him, laughing and giggling at him. He would feel your nails scraping down his back, body pressed up against him. It had sent him down a spiral of need.

Constant, were his visits to the infirmary, asking bizarre questions to the doctors. ‘ Were there any side effects to switching into an avatar body? Were illusions part of these side effects? ‘ the doctors would prescribe him medicated pills in hopes he would gain peace of mind. But all it did was make him drowsy, not even in his dreams was he safe from you. You would appear with a bright smile and himself— or rather the original Quaritch. Not him— it wasn’t him. But he wished it was. You were happy with the original Quaritch, he envied him.

He was envious of your relationship towards the original Quaritch. Envy that someone else had laid eyes on you. Jealous to see his predecessor touch you; to be the object of your affection. At one point he began to wish it was him instead of his predecessor. He couldn’t help a smile curve the corner of his lips whenever he would dream of you. While some memories were still fuzzy he would see memories of arguments between them. How you despised him for his horrible actions towards ‘hometree ‘ how you hated him for his cruelty towards the Na’vi. How you wanted nothing to do with him after what he did. He had brushed your anger off, you’ll get over it. It was for the sake of the human race. But he had underestimated your love for Pandora. You had betrayed him for Jake Sully.

Oh— he didn’t like that one bit. An inconstant amount of rage coursed through him. How dare you? How dare you turn your back on him? It was only then he realized the depth of his predecessor love for you. He had you confined in his quarters claiming the scientist had deluded you into betraying the human race. How he was going to set your mind straight. How those scientists had manipulated you into turning your back on him. He couldn’t agree any less, anyone who tried to interfere in your relationship with him were manipulative bastards. They were all trying to take you away from him. This planet, the scientist, every single thing in this wretched place.

And they did. They took you from him. You were no longer in his arms. You had abandon him for the Na’vi race; willingly chose to be apart of them. Chose to be alongside with Jake sully. The man who had killed him— the man who had taken you with him. He was out for blood, out to kill the man who took you from him. But would you come back to him? Of course! He isn’t the original Quaritch— no he’s nothing but a shell— a clone, a replacement. It didn’t matter to him, you belonged to him before and you’ll belong to him in this life too.

It was by some miracle that he had saw you. He had taken the sully kids as hostages ready to lure out Jake sully. But he had caught sight of you. Despite his overwhelming need to have you in his arms he kept his head in the game. He had to think clear, the reason you had come was to rescue the children. So he had offered a trade, give yourself up and he’ll let the children go. You agreed and like the honorable man he was he stayed true to his words. But to his surprise you had a kid of your own. You had named him Miles, a human who thought he belonged with the Na’vi. His heart nearly leaped out of his chest, that child was proof of his love towards you. He couldn’t help the flutter of butterflies in his stomach. You were back in his arms, safe and sound where you belonged.

#yandere #colonel quaritch #navi quaritch #Navi #avatar #x reader #quaritch x reader #Navi quaritch x reader #yandere quaritch #yandere quaritch x reader #colonel miles quaritch x reader #recom miles quaritch #recom quaritch #yandere Recom quaritch #avatar quaritch

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clairdelunelove · 2 months

Text

actually shaking at the thought of how considerate boyfriend!yuuji is once you’re dating

hasn’t been in the ‘dating field’ before so this is all new territory to him and he tries so hard to be vigilant about everything you do. every anxious mannerism you have. the tone of your voice when you’re frustrated. it’s all carefully commemorated in his mind. filed away for a day when he needs it. mental notes that’ll help him guide you through any tough times you might have. he wishes to be the best for you– the best partner a person could possibly have because you deserve it. so he’ll fight and compromise for you. even rearranges his schedule just to get a glimpse of your face in the dim moonlight. an honor that you bestow upon him. that is, until he notices the furrow of your brows and how the ends of your lips are curved downwards. now this is unfamiliar to him. he ventures to step closer to you and his gaze flickers when you unconsciously twist away. but if yuuji is known for anything– then it’s for how adamantly he cares for you.

“hey,” his voice is low and tender, “you doin’ alright?”

and he’s so selfless. compassionate to a point where it’s noble. his calloused hand caresses your shoulder and the touch automatically soothes you. it always does. that’s the effect that yuuji had on you and a shaky exhale passes through you. his voice was, without fail, softer whenever he spoke to you. the tone of it undertook a maturity that he typically saved for more serious matters.

“yeah,” you instinctively respond with a shaky smile, “I’m fine.”

the reply is a reflex that you haven’t fought to break and it shows. it gives rise to genuine worry that bleeds into his stare when your boyfriend looks at you. and goodness does he watch you closely. his honeyed eyes bounce along every inch of your face and body, checking for any physical signs that might cause you harm. upon concluding that you weren’t hurt, he gingerly takes your hands into his own and gently squeezes.

“you sure? you don’t sound fine to me.”

his sharp features catch the faintest glint of exhaustion behind your eyes and he recognizes that it’ll take a bit more prying to coax you to talk. no worries– yuuji’s a man of patience. he’d wait decades for you. in fact, he’d drop to his knees and plead if it’d aid him in finding a solution to your problems. and you’re aware that he would because his concern for your wellbeing is so apparent. he’d shout it from the rooftops until his voice eventually gave out and that conception only warms your heart. in truth, you just missed him– his presence, affection, and yearning.

“you’re so good to me, yuu,” you softly admit, staring up at him.

there are hearts in your eyes. glimmering and floating in a manner that knocks the wind out of his chest. little does he know that his obvious worry quells the ache of overthinking within you. he tilts his head, blushy hair bobbing at the action, and uses his thumb to draw circles on the back of your hands. sweet gestures that match him in this trying time. you can’t stifle the smile that overtakes your face and his heart is so full of you that he can hardly call it his own.

his stare is adoring as he murmurs, “oh yeah?”

the inquiry borders a tease and he raises a brow at you. your eyes flicker to the width of his shoulders, broad and consuming. such a tempting sight that has your mind wandering. and yuuji’s seen that starry gleam in your gaze before. almost forces a chuckle out of him due to how troubled he was about the situation. but you just missed him. perhaps his busy schedule has kept him away from you for too long. such a needy thing. and if he did have a fault it would be how insatiable he is about you.

he moves to grab you by the chin, his touch sensitive yet firm. honeyed eyes narrowing at how yours widens in longing. then, yuuji tilts your face up to his. his next words are a deep rumble that spreads enough warmth to start a wildfire within you and you’re gravitating towards him. pulled in by his temptations.

leaning to press a sticky kiss on your jaw, he encourages, “then won't you talk to me, pretty girl? please?”

#jujutsu itadori #jujutsu kaisen #yuji itadori #itadori x reader #yuuji itadori #yuuji fluff #itadori x y/n #itadori yuuji x reader #jjk x reader

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persevereforahappyending · 2 months

Text

Luck Runs Out |Part 9|

Pairing: Mabel x Reader

Summary: When your luck runs out you unknowingly drag Mabel back into the life, she's so desperate to escape.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 2.9k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Every inch of your body ached, if a part of you wasn’t bleeding it was bruised. Your boss was kind enough not to leave any broken bones. Though you knew that wasn’t for your benefit, you couldn’t exactly go get him his drugs if you had broken bones or were bleeding out. You even had the honor of him beating the crap out of you himself, usually he had one of his lackeys do the beating, he preferred not to get his hands dirty, but it seemed you were special.

You stood there giving Mabel what was surely a bloody smile, leaning against the doorframe to support your weight. Just because he didn’t break any of your bones didn’t mean he made it easy for you to walk. He didn’t even provide you a ride, he made you walk all the way to her apartment. You dragged yourself up the steps to her apartment and just slumped against the door, barely having the energy to even knock on the door. On the bright side the pain from your gunshot wound wasn’t as prominent now, you barely remembered it was there, except for when you moved your arm.

Mabel just stood in the doorway, tear filled eyes and hands covering her mouth. She was acting like she’d seen a ghost; you didn’t think you looked that bad, but you hadn’t had time to check yourself in a mirror yet. Before you knew it Mabel flung herself at you, causing you to groan as you stumbled back, you tried grabbing the doorframe so the both of you didn’t tumble to the floor. For such a little person the girl really packed a punch, but you couldn’t complain, her embrace felt amazing through all the pain.

“I’m mad at you,” she mumbled into your shirt.

“I know,” you mumbled, relaxing into the hug. You wrapped your good arm around her, tugging her closer.

“How are you here?” She pulled back just enough to look up at you. “What happened?”

You sighed, knowing you’d have to explain yourself and everything that happened. “May I come in first?” You asked, tilting your head with a small smile. You weren’t sure if you were capable of having this conversation while standing, it felt like your legs were going to give out any second.

As an answer Mabel tugged you into the apartment by your hoodie, her hoodie. You rested your good arm around her as you left the doorframe, placing most of your weight on her. Mabel was a lot stronger than she looked, she only stumbled when she tried to maneuver you around the furniture. You let out a groan as she tried to help guide you onto her bed. Charlie shot up from the couch, looking around, his eyes going wide when they landed on you.

“Holy shit,” Charlie yelled, jumping to his feet, and nearly tripping over the coffee table as he ran across the room. “How are you alive? How are you here? What happened?”

You opened your mouth to answer these questions when Mabel rested a hand against your cheek. Your eyes drifted from Charlie down to her, as she stared at your face, gently running a thumb over one of your bruises. She slowly pulled down your hood, turning your face in her hands to get a good look at the extent of your injuries. Your mouth hung partially open, unable to answer Charlie as you got lost in Mabel’s warm brown eyes, you couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked at you with so much care and worry, the last time someone treated you so gently.

“Guess I’ll check on you later,” Charlie mumbled, clearly reading the room. “Call if you need anything.” You heard him shuffling until finally you heard the door close behind him.

Mabel let go of your chin before making her way to the bathroom. You stayed on the bed, watching as disappeared and your eyes didn’t leave the doorway until she came back out. She carried a small white container, sitting down next to you again. You looked down, following her hands to see her pulling out cotton balls and other materials to help clean up your wounds.

The two of you sat in complete silence as Mabel got to work. She got up, getting a wet washcloth before gently wiping away the dried blood on your face. You watched her scrunched up brow as she focused on wiping away the blood under your nose and off your busted lip. You couldn’t get a read on her, she was taking care of you which was a good sign, but you knew she was already mad and what you still had to tell her was only going to make her more furious. She still looked so cute, all focused and angry.

You flinched, letting out a hiss, and trying to wince away as she rubbed the washcloth near the cut above your eye. She just gripped you by the chin again, gently, yet forcefully, making your head stay in place until she was done. When all your cuts were cleaned, she used her finger to dab ointment on them, making sure they wouldn’t get infected.

“You’re probably going to have a black eye,” Mabel said. She turned your head from side to side, getting a look at her work. “Probably two.”

“Hardly the least of my worries,” you rasped out, letting out a humorless chuckle.

“Shirt off,” she ordered, ignoring your morbid sense of humor. Your eyes widened and you leaned just a little bit further away from her. She only rolled her eyes, wiping her hands with the rag before getting up to toss it into the sink, grabbing the rest of the trash on her way.

“Stop being a baby,” she said, coming back to stand in front of you. You looked up at her as she stared down at you, her arms crossed, and an eyebrow raised. “I’ve already seen you without a shirt, remember?” You nodded, blushing as you remembered, of course she’d seen you without a shirt before, she helped you when you got shot and then had been helping you clean the wound. “Shirt off, now.”

You moved quickly, slipping off the hoodie first. You tried to pull your shirt off in one swift motion but groaned as your injured shoulder moved, it was still too early to be moving with a gunshot wound that was only about a week old now. Mabel stepped closer, helping pull the shirt off your head as you kept your injured arm stable. Mabel quickly stepped back, her eyes scanning over your body. You turned away, looking anywhere but her, you knew she was assessing your other injuries, but you couldn’t help but be self-conscious.

“Lie back,” she said softly.

Without a word you did as she asked, laying down on her bed, using your good arm to prop your head up so you could watch her work. You couldn’t see all the injuries because of the angle you were at, but your ribs were pretty much all black and blue, red patches here and there. They might not have broken your bones, but you wouldn’t have been surprised if you ended up with bruised or fractured ribs. Seeing what little you could see you weren’t surprised that you nearly collapsed on your way to Mabel’s apartment and that you could barely stand without someone or something supporting you.

“I’m going to get ice,” she mumbled.

The next thing you knew she was gone, grabbing ice from the freezer. She came back with a bag filled with ice, wrapped in a cloth. She moved to place the ice on your ribs when she stopped to look at you, the ice hovering over your injuries. You gave her a small nod, closing your eyes as you anticipated the brief pressure of something touching your injuries. You sucked in a breath at feeling the ice placed on you before quickly relaxing.

“How’s that?” She whispered.

“Better,” you rasped out, looking down at her. “Thank you.”

“This seems to be our thing.” She gave you a sad smile as she shifted to sit on the edge of the bed. “You getting injured and me patching you up.”

“It’ll be over soon.”

Mabel looked down at her hands. It was hard to see from your position, but it looked like her hands were bunched up into fists. “What happened?” She mumbled. It was barely above a whisper, if it weren’t just the two of you in the room you surely would have missed it.

“I cleaned up my mess,” you whispered back.

“What did you do?” Her voice cracked. When she turned to look at you, you could see the unshed tears already formed in her eyes, even through the dark.

“I made a deal.”

“These kind of people don’t make deals. Not without a price.”

“It’s a price I’m willing to pay. You, Charlie, the others, you’ll all be safe after this.” You were trying to keep your tone neutral, not that it mattered since you felt your own eyes start to well up.

“But at the cost of your life?” She shot to her feet, looking down as a few tears escaped, which she quickly wiped away.

“It was the only way.” Mabel crossed her arms, unable to look at you anymore. “This is my mess and if I didn’t do something they would have killed Charlie and the others.”

“This isn’t fair,” her voice broke as she looked at you again, her tears flowing freely now.

“I know,” you admitted. “I’m sorry.”

Mabel didn’t say anything else, she stormed off to the bathroom. You didn’t see her again until she came back to throw out the melted ice. She was going to bring you more, but it was getting late, and you decided it wasn’t worth it. You wanted to get a few hours of sleep on your last night alive. Mabel sat at the edge of the bed; you could just make out her profile in the dark.

“What kind of deal did you make?” She whispered, not bothering to turn to look at you.

“I told them I would take them to their drugs,” you whispered back, your eyes never leaving her. “With the condition that they let the others go.”

“What makes you think they won’t turn around and kill them?” She looked in your direction, you knew she was staring right at you, but you couldn’t see her facial expression through the dark.

“They might,” you admitted.

“So why even make the deal?”

“It saved them for now.” Your eyes darted around trying to find hers through the dark. “I tried to convince my boss that his drugs would be gone forever if it weren’t for them. That they saved me and now he had the chance at getting the shipment back.”

You could just barely make out movement. It seemed like Mabel was nodding her head. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow morning,” you sighed, the fact that this was probably your last night alive plagued your mind. “I told them I needed to do something first. They almost didn’t agree but said they’d kill everyone if I didn’t return to the docks tomorrow on time.”

“What did you have to do?”

“Say goodbye,” you whispered. You could swear you heard a sniffle, but you couldn’t be sure. “I felt like I owed you that much.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

You wanted to deny that, but you knew Mabel wouldn’t hear any of it. The truth was you owed her so much more than just a goodbye, a goodbye was literally the very least you could do. You didn’t think Mabel realized how much she did for you, besides just quite literally saving your life.

“Just rest,” she whispered. She hesitantly reached out, resting her hand on your knee, giving it a comforting rub.

You did as asked, snuggling further into her bed. You were going to ask if she wanted you to move to the couch, but she was already slipping into bed beside you. You froze, in that moment you were wide awake, you didn’t question her though. The only time you had technically shared a bed with her was when you were comforting her the day before. You weren’t sure if that really counted, she was crying, you were holding her, and eventually she passed out in your arms, you just continued to hold her until you decided to sneak out.

You didn’t intend to say anything, if she was okay with sharing a bed again then you were to. You enjoyed her presence and if this was your last night on earth then there was nothing you wanted more than to be next to her until the last second. You relaxed again, shifting your aching body until the softness of the mattress overtook the pain.

You glanced at Mabel, seeing her turned away from you. You stared back up at the ceiling, closing your eyes to finally try and get some sleep. Not even a minute later you felt the bed shift, the sound of Mabel silently wiggling closer filled the quiet apartment. Without opening your eyes, you too shifted a little closer to her, though you were a little less subtle considering your entire body seemed to hurt with every movement still. You and Mabel weren’t touching but you could feel her warmth.

The alarm on your phone went off, you groaned, refusing to open your eyes as you smacked around trying to shut off the alarm. When you finally hit the alarm, you let out a long sigh, you knew when you opened your eyes you’d have to get up, you’d have to make your way to the dock, then in a few hours you’d probably be dead. You turned your head, as you opened your eyes, through your still sleepy vision you caught sight of Mabel.

You blinked away the sleep, Mabel becoming clearer as the seconds passed. At some point in the night, she had rolled over and was now facing you. The both of you had also seemed to move closer to each other, that you were now touching. Mabel had managed to have her head resting on your good shoulder and somehow during the night your good arm ended up wrapped around her.

You hated to disturb the peace, but you knew you had to get moving, you couldn’t be late. You gently rubbed up and down Mabel’s arm. “Hey,” you whispered, your voice raspy from sleep. Mabel only hummed in response. “It’s time for me to go.”

Mabel slowly opened her eyes, looking down and back up at you as if realizing she was in a different position than when she went to sleep. Mabel didn’t pull away though she just let out a sigh, a pout appearing on her lips. Mabel laid her head back down on your shoulder, somehow ending up even closer to you. You sighed, continuing to run your hand up and down her arm, you could probably get away with a few more minutes of peace.

After a few minutes you reluctantly got up. Mabel got up as well when she saw you struggling to slip your shirt back on. She grabbed one side of the shirt and guided your arm into the correct hole. You smiled, silently thanking her for her help. You looked around, your eyes landing on the copy of The Odyssey Mabel had gotten you.

You picked it up before turning to Mabel. You gripped the book tight as you held it out to her. “Take care of this for me, yeah?” you asked. Mabel nodded, taking the book from you.

The two of you stood by the front door. Mabel reached up, cupping your face, turning your head slightly from side to side. “How do I look?” you asked, smiling awkwardly at her. It didn’t really matter how you looked; you were going to be dead soon anyway.

“Still cute if you ask me,” Mabel whispered. Your smile turned brighter at her words, if it was your last day on earth then you were happy, Mabel thought you were cute, considering when you first laid eyes on her you thought she was a goddess.

Your hand rested on the doorknob as you stared into Mabel’s dark brown eyes. Your eyes flicked down to her lips, hers doing the same. You both leaned in, but instead of going all the way you stopped yourself, resting your forehead against hers. You felt your nose brush against hers, you reached up, brushing a strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face. Mabel didn’t move, she didn’t try to complete the kiss, she just stayed there, her hand resting on your hip as her fingers played with the fabric of your shirt.

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t kiss her. It didn’t feel right to have your first kiss with her only to leave and go get yourself killed. “Thank you,” you whispered one last time.

You pulled away, giving her one last look, seeing a tear escape from one of her eyes. You didn’t realize your own eyes had begun to fill with tears until your vision started to blur. You quickly blinked them away, not taking your eyes off her as you turned the doorknob and stepped out into the hall. You sniffled, shaking your head as you made your way out of the comfort of Mabel’s apartment and into the early morning darkness, walking to your guaranteed demise.

#mabel (finestkind)#mabel finestkind #mabel x reader #mabel x fem!reader #mabel x you #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #finestkind 2023 #luck runs out

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gatorlovebot · 9 months

Text

continuation of this blurb here. read the rest of king!simon blurbs here.

you had gone to sleep in your our own bed for the first time in weeks, at the absolute horror of your king.

(“what if i start internally bleeding in my sleep and you’re not here?”

“well, your highness, the doctor said the risk of complication was almost at zero now. and how would i even be able to tell if you were bleeding internally?”)

it wasn’t an easy conversation, having to put your foot down to your king for the first time in a while. but you felt it was important to go back to your routine. put a little bit of space between the two of you again.

you would be lying if you said the encounter with simon’s new secretary hadn’t stuck with you. he only had to take one look at you to decide that you were nothing more than someone to keep simon’s bed warm. you know that’s not true, you know that your relationship with simon is complex and one based on respect and honor. but you can’t help but let the looks and the harsh words from others eat away at you.

you weren’t excited to start sleeping in your lumpy bed again, but you needed to face the reality that this is your life, your life is not sleeping in simon’s bed every night.

but when you awaken, you awake to a sharp pain across your skull and blurry vision. you had felt fine the previous evening, having walked all the way down to your sleeping quarters with no issues. you had no idea what could possibly be making your head feel this way. you force yourself onto your feet and that seems to make the pain worse, pressure behind your eyes making you want to curl up and cry. you took pride in being by simon’s side everyday but you would be no help to him in this condition.

you make the trek to the grand kitchen, hoping to intercept one of the maids before they bring up simon’s breakfast. usually by now you would be upstairs, picking out simon’s clothes. as he’d dress you’d accept breakfast from a maid at the door and the two of you would eat together. that wouldn’t be happening this morning.

once you make it to the kitchen you squint through all of the light streaming in from the big windows and feel relief when you see the maid who usually brings up simon’s breakfast prepping the trays.

she notices you before you can open your mouth to speak, “oh, it’s you.” she remarks, sounding shocked. “what a sight, to see you outside of the king’s room for once.”

it’s an easy dig, a version you’ve heard many times, but it digs up shame, knowing that sleeping in simon’s bed for the past weeks will make the gossip and teasing even worse for you. but you can’t begin to deal with that now in your stricken state.

“yes, i woke up in my bed this morning with terrible pain in my head.” you begin to explain. you don’t know why you even tell her you were in your bed, she probably won’t even believe you or care. “when you bring up his breakfast, could you please inform him that i won’t be available to assist him today?”

she smirks and if it was any other day you’d give it back to her but right now you feel like you can barely stand on your own feet. you just try to grit your teeth and brace for her response, “i bet the king will be devastated,” she teases, “oh well, maybe i’ll just have to offer the king my own services.”

good luck with that, you think, reflecting on the countless times simon has rebuffed the advances of other female staff. simon wasn’t someone who cared about intimacy or companionship, he’d rather laugh in the face of another handmaiden who tried to seduce him with their big bust size than let them in his bed.

“best of luck with that.” you dig back before turning back to make the walk to your sleeping quarters.

you could cry when you finally reach your room, legs giving out the last few steps to your bed, body so exhausted from the painful assault going on in your head. you curl up under your blanket, using your pillow to cover your eyes to block out any light as you pray for sleep.

you awake to a knocking at your door. letting out expletives as you untangle yourself from your blankets. your head still feels like its being split open, maybe the sleep made it worse. you manage to make it to the door and when you open it reveals the concerned face of one of simon’s guards. simon’s guards were some of the only men on castle grounds that you felt comfortable around as they were always pleasant and kind, wishing you a good morning and a good evening as you came and went from the king’s chambers.

“the king sent for me, he’s concerned about your wellbeing and doesn’t want to continue his day without you.” the guard explains as you squint against the light coming in from the corridor. “he ordered me to bring you up to him, regardless of your condition. or your protests.” he tacks on, with a hint of humor in his voice. the guards are pretty much the only members of simon’s men that understands your true relationship with the king. they hear your inside jokes, the way you talk to the king casually, they understand your friendship to the king unlike anyone else.

“i figured simon would send someone for me.” you sighed, knowing how stubborn simon can be and how little he takes no as an answer. you figured he would want to see you with his own eyes before going on with his day without you. “can i hold onto your arm? i don’t think i can make it up all those stairs on my own.”

the guard wordlessly holds his arm out to you and you loop yours around it, thankful for the kind gesture. you make your way up to the king's chambers, heavily leaning against the guard the entire trip with your eyes squinted against all the light coming into the castle. it’s a relief when you finally reach simon’s door.

the guard leads you inside and presents you to simon, who was stood at the end of his bed looking at pairs of pants strewn across the blankets. “your highness,” the guard announces, “your handmaiden, as requested.”

simon gives you an assessing look before nodding to the guard, “thank you, back to position.” the guard leaves the room and you begin to make your way over to simon’s bed to sit, but he intercepts you before you make it. he places his big hands on your shoulders to halt your movement and gives your face an appraising look. “the maid that brought me my breakfast said you weren’t able to execute your duties today.”

you nod as you squint up at him, “i woke with a terrible pain in my head.” there’s a slight whine in your voice that you would feel embarrassed about if you weren’t consumed by the white, hot pain in your skull.

he raises one of his eyes, “you were just going to suffer by yourself?” he questions, leading you over to his bed and you shamelessly sink into the soft blankets, curling up around his perfectly tailored pants.

“what else was i supposed to do?” you mewl, feeling like a child being scolded by their mother. when you awoke this morning you felt that the best course of action was to allow the pain to pass on your own, you were no use to simon and maybe a day apart would do the both of you some good.

he picks up one of your limp hands and brings it up his face, lips brushing against your palm as he growls out, “you don’t have the choice to hide from me.”

“simon,” you try to counter but he’s already releasing your hand and turning back towards the door. your motivations for staying in your chambers were pure, you couldn't keep up with simon today in your state, but it seems that maybe he had caught on to your little plan of keeping distance between each other. even after all of these years you had no idea why he always needed you when he had a number of other female staff.

“i’m going to call for the doctor, i need you better so you can help me pick out some fucking pants.”

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