#will think of a name eventually i take suggestions
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candy crush. (e.w.)
SYNOPSIS: you’re too sweet, and ellie hates it.
WORD COUNT: 4.3K
WARNINGS: recordshopmanager!ellie, crumblcookiebaker!oc, hurt/comfort, ellie’s a cunt, ocs too sweet, FLUFF?? FROM ME??? HUHHH, crushing, slight suggestive thoughts
A/N: idk where this came from lol
Ellie’s reorganizing the vinyl selection when a delicate hand lands on her shoulder. “I know your miserable ass doesn’t enjoy company,” Dina hisses in her ear, purposefully hushed, “But you got company.”
Ellie’s eyebrow quirks with confusion, leaving the earplug that blasts Head like a Hole to dangle over her shoulder. Her eyes glaze over the semi-filled shop, narrowing in on every face until she locks eyes with you from behind the guitar displays. The eye contact only lasts about 1.5 seconds before Dina smacks her leg.
“Don’t look. You’re gonna make it weird.” Dina quietly snaps from beside her, occupying her hands with some misplaced records.
“You know her?”
“I see her around sometimes. I think she works nearby,” Ellie catches her smirking from the corner of her eye, “… I think she likes you.”
“Fuck off.”
“I’m dead serious. She’s been staring for the past 10.”
“At who.”
“At you, dipshit.”
Ellie can’t help herself. She takes one experimental glance in your direction; discovers you typing away at your device with a black mask pulled down under your chin, bottom lip trapped between your teeth with worry. Your apron and tiny name tag indicates you probably work somewhere close by, but she can’t pinpoint where. You’re too far and her vision is failing.
“Get her numbe—“
Ellie’s head whips to face Dina, “If you don’t shut up, you’re fired.”
“Abuse of power,” She snarks in return, “C’mon! She seems so—“
“D-Do you guys have any acoustics for sale?”
You’re a ninja, for sure. Both girls' heads snap around to face you — who stands a bit too close for Ellie’s liking — phone desperately clutched to your chest and eyes wide as a doe. Mainly locked with Ellie’s before they drop to your name tag.
Crumbl. 2 shops down.
Fuck.
“Why, yes!” Dina says excitedly when Ellie doesn’t reply, “Most of ours have been used, but they’re still in great condition. Are you interested in renting or purchasing?”
“Purchasing… I think.”
“No problem. I can show you some that we have on display, and if you don’t like those, we have some stocked in the back!”
Ellie’s forehead creases. Dina has never been this active in making a sale, let alone interacting with any customers. Ellie is always the one who’s forced to pick up her and Riley’s slack in the shop. She catches the light traces of disappointment that overtakes your expression at Dina’s interjection, but eventually, you’re led over to the guitar displays.
Ellie sighs in relief.
That brief exchange gave Ellie everything she needed to know. She doesn’t find gratification in denying proposals at work, but after months of being hit on by a multitude of customers — the men particularly piss her off— she’ll be as stern as she needs to be to get the point of denial across. Sure, it makes her look like a cunt to the general public, but she’ll take that over being chased after on the clock. No questions asked.
Ellie assumes that you’ve found what you needed because on your way out, persistent stares are thrown in her direction up until your departure. She dodges them with mastery.
She would hate to have to embarrass a strip neighbor.
Three days later, you stumble upon the record shop once more. Dina isn’t here to save Ellie this time, and Riley’s passing time in the break room. Your uniform is lightly dusted with white, presumably flour, and your mask is down, phone clutched to your chest like it holds all your secrets.
Your mouth drops open around a small smile when you approach the service counter, but Ellie interrupts before you can greet her.
“What can I help you with?”
She assumed her annoyance would be guarded by professionalism, but your smile drops at its corners at her tone. A light flinch that Ellie prays is enough to deter you from spending your breaks here.
It doesn’t. Your eyes still shine like the star that you aren’t.
“I, um… I actually wanted to talk to you. If that’s okay—“
“Is it regarding the purchase you made a few days ago?”
Dina slid Ellie a notice on the down payment you made for your used dreadnought since you weren’t able to pay in full. The scolding she received about “taking care of you” whenever you returned made her teeth grind together.
“N-No. I just—“
“I’d appreciate it if we kept the conversation about that,” Ellie uses the scribbles on her notepad as a distraction, “Did you have any questions regarding the instrument? Or if you’re interested in taking part in the lessons we offer, I could redirect you to Riley. She’s in charge of—“
“I just wanted to see if you were… interested in sampling out some cookie flavors I came up with? I’m a baking and pastry student and—“
“Look,” The tip of Ellie’s tongue sharpens into her cheek, irritation evident when you two are eye-to-eye. “I’m not sure where this proposal is coming from, but frankly, I’m not interested.”
The drop in your expression doesn’t stop Ellie’s relentlessness.
“I don’t know you, and I don’t know why you thought I’d be a good candidate for… taste-testing, but I’ll politely decline. No thanks.”
Her declination doesn’t sound polite in the slightest; quite snippy and condescending from your perspective, and it forces your windpipe shut. Only for a second before a strangled gasp leaves your lips. You’re not sure if it’s out of shock or lack of breath, but it aches in your lungs all the same.
Ellie’s glare sends holes through your back as you rush towards the exit, the small bell singing through the store and alarming your leave.
All Ellie can hope is that you got the message.
It’s a new week, and therefore, a new Crumbl cookie line-up. Dina won’t stop raving about the carrot-cake cookie which doesn’t resemble a cookie at all. It's tiered and way too soft and stacked with icing that’s sweet enough to rot teeth from the gum.
It reminds Ellie of you, for some reason; Somehow still managing to be a nuisance without trying.
Even more so now since Dina’s been using her 45 to walk down and see you. To talk to you. Dina has yet to cough up what about — not that Ellie cares. It’s just weird that you two suddenly have so much in common after knowing each other for all of two days maximum. Whenever Dina clocks back in, she tortures Ellie with dramatic retellings of your stories.
It’s Thursday; a quiet day for the shop that Ellie uses to her advantage when the sun is at its peak. Searching through cheap magazines and playing Candy Crush on her phone.
What a time for you to come barreling in. The formerly enjoyable shriek of guitar suddenly sounds like nails on a chalkboard at your appearance. No longer are you in all black. You’re in a sundress. An orange one. You look like a popsicle.
And you bear gifts. Ellie’s mood turns even more sour when she sees two bright yellow gift bags with smiley faces on them and a tray filled with coffee stuffed in your hands.
“Good morning!”
You’re smiling, gleaming, and Ellie’s nose turns up. She plucks one of her earplugs out and closes her graphic novel.
“How can I help you?”
You set your bag down on the display case of her prized arch top, and she sighs in exasperation. Annoyance sparks when she notices one of the bags has her name on it, flowers and hearts and sparkles surrounding the tag.
“Can you not put your belongings on the displays, please? I’d have to clean up after you since none of my employees will.”
You’ve already moved your bags and exclaimed apologies before Ellie could finish her sentence. She’s seconds away from shoving her earplug back in to tune you out, but you’re fast. Persistent. She hates it.
“I’m really sorry about that,” You say gently, and Ellie shrugs you off, “I, um. I-I came to, uh…”
Ellie blinks rapidly, “If you’re here to apologize for last week, don’t bother. It’s not needed.”
“Not at all! Well, I’m just… I wanted to drop by and—“
“You’ve gotten quite comfortable with just… dropping by. Have you realized that?”
Ellie’s squint is harsh and scrutinizing, and sorrow overshadows the light in your pupils.
“Since it’s obvious that you’re not understanding me, I’ll put it like this,” She leans a bit over the counter, front fully pressed against the glass and palms resting on the stainless steel, “I’m not interested in anything you have going on. Stop using your breaks as an excuse to come see me. I don’t wanna go out with you. And I don’t want to do a taste test. Drop it already.”
Ellie watches your lip quiver with a harshness exclusive only for people like you, tears welting in your eyes and your fingers pinching at the hem of your sundress. Insecurity is practically seeping from your pores, and your gaze drops shamefully to the floor.
Ellie’s just about to tell you to kick rocks when the STAFF ONLY door swings open and exposes Riley. Her break ended 20 minutes ago.
“Hey! You’re early!”
Ellie scoffs, “No, you’re late—“
“Not you. Be quiet,” She waves her off and smiles at you, who’s smiling back at her with guised genuity. A complete 180 from the you seconds ago. Since when were you and Riley on speaking terms? Friends?
She jogs from behind the stand, “Dina told me you weren’t coming til 3!” Riley throws her arms around your shoulders, and your hands tremble where they rest on her forearms. “Are those the goods?”
“Yeah!” Your voice sounds heavy. Like you’re guarding a breakdown, “I-I had some time so I stopped by a little early.”
“I got some to spare til Dee gets here. Hang out with m—“
“Actually!” You intervene shakily, “I have some other drop-offs to make. I really appreciate you guys doing this for me.”
“Are you sure you can’t stay? Watch me get my Food Network judge on?” Riley suddenly points in Ellie’s direction, “Who knows. Sourpuss might even pop a grin once she tries one.” Ellie’s cheeks run red-hot.
“Sorry, Riley. Maybe next time,” You’re already wobbling towards the exit, “But, please call and tell me what you think! Dina, too! Any feedback is appreciated!”
“I’m sure they’re delicious, Monster!” Riley compliments playfully, “Text me when you’re home!”
When the door shuts, Ellie sees Riley’s back stiffen at the sight of you frantically wiping your face through the glass.
“What the fuck did you do.”
“I didn’t do shit. She’s loitering.”
“Lo— Oh my fucking god, you’re an embarrassmen—“
“No, she is. Taking up space for no fucking reason to come and see me. She’s loitering—“
“You’re blowing a fuse over fucking cookie samples?” Riley stares at her like she’s nuts, “And not to burst your self-centered bubble, but I told her to come. She’s been asking all the stores on the block if they’d like to taste ‘em.”
Ellie pauses, expression softening only slightly when Riley continues,
“I told her you don’t like chocolate, so she made a peanut butter version for you.” Riley shakes Ellie's special, slightly smaller bag as a means to taunt her, and the freckled girl’s face burns red. Glows even harsher when her friend throws in, “You cunt. She’s a sweetheart. Not everyone is fucking obsessed with you.”
Riley leaves Ellie to simmer in her discomfort, slamming the break door shut. The day seems to drag on longer than usual.
-
-
-
Ellie’s organizing the break room when she comes across her small baggie that Riley left behind. She would’ve expected her friend to take them home after Ellie’s dramatic blow up, but there it sat on the counter, untouched and jeering.
Tempting enough for her to rest the broom against the counter and inspect its contents. Wafts of cinnamon and peanut butter hit her through the small opening of the bag, and her heart gives a squeeze. The cookie is iced to perfection — an entire scenery on the light brown canvas. So many flowers and trees and the blue hues of the sky; almost too much detail. It looks printed on.
You’re artistically talented and the cookie smells divine.
One nibble wouldn’t hurt. She’s sure the damage she caused is already irreversible.
But when she cradles the carefully swaddled cookie, a small note falls from beneath the bunched cling wrap. She knows she shouldn’t. She should really, really leave the neatly folded piece of paper where it lays. Down the cookie. Trash the bag.
She takes the cookie and the note back to her seat at the table. The cookie isn’t what she unravels first.
“thought I’d make you a separate batch. Riley gave me the heads up about your chocolate disdain. I’m too paranoid to ask for your number in person, so I thought I’d use bait instead. I hope it’s convincing enough. Please let me know if it’s decent. Thank you for tasting.”
Signed with your name and a smiling heart with wings. Ellie’s heart shatters, remaining shards dangling from the rim of her ribcage. She can already see her friends glaring through her chest when they visit the apartment to berate her tomorrow morning. She already knows what they’re going to demand from her, but she’s three steps ahead.
She ate the entire cookie in two bites right where she sat. It was delicious. Almondy, not too sweet, gently spiced. Probably the best she’s ever had.
Ellie has never been to Crumbl before.
The viral spot is always bustling — too crowded and filled with loud teenagers with a sugar rush for her taste. Plus, she’s already on the clock when they first open. But the record shop is closed on Fridays.
She put an extra bit of care into her appearance. She doesn’t recall the last time she did her hair. Half of it is pinned up and her button-up is neatly pressed. Jitters rustle in the pit of her stomach and her forehead is a bit damp, mainly because she can see you through the goddamn window.
In uniform, you stand at the register with the same beaming smile from last week, talking and giggling with your coworkers, and Ellie instantly feels guilty. Your day seems off to a great start, and here she is… About to ruin it. She almost turned around at the thought.
But the small bell above the door blares loud, and your bright smile drops once you recognize her, and with that, her stomach. Ellie mentally notes the bags forming under your eyes and the tension in your shoulders. It looks like you haven’t rested for days. Her heart squeezes.
Your movements turn robotic; stiffly perched on the sides of the iPad stand as your thumb works on the screen. You haven’t looked Ellie’s way since. She approaches the counter with her tail between her legs, fidgeting with her middle finger.
“Um… hey.” Ellie’s quiet. Out of place. Afraid.
“What can I get for you?”
Even with the stiffness, you somehow still manage to sound as soft as a cotton ball, but Ellie’s body locks. The scenario hits her like a brick wall; she’s doing exactly what she accused you of doing to her last week. Bothering her at fucking work. She should’ve never come to your place of business to coddle her ego. She feels like a hypocrite. You certainly see her as one.
“Um… A cookie?”
“… What flavor.”
“Uh… peanut butter?”
You swallow thickly, voice hollow, “That’s not on the menu for this week,” You point towards the display of cookies that were big enough to feed a family, “These are the six we’re serving until Sunday. You can also look at the menu on the screen.”
Ellie follows your pointing finger. How the fuck does this place work? Weekly flavors? What the fuck does that mean? She quickly examines the names of cookies that flash across the screen: raspberry cheesecake, pink velvet… Mom’s recipe? Odd name for a dessert but she lets it slide.
“W-What’s your favorite?”
You’re a baker, for fucks sake. You’d have better taste than anyone, better than her, she’d painfully admit.
She watches your fingers clench around the screen, tapping mindlessly.
“Um… raspberry cheesecake.”
“I’ll get a dozen.”
“O-Of the same flavor?”
She shrugs like it’s obvious, “… Yup.”
You give her one skeptic look before tapping at the screen. “It might be a little wait. About 15 minutes. Do you mind?”
“No.”
“Cash or card?”
“Card, please.”
More tapping, “That’ll be $41.65. Swipe or tap whenever you're ready.”
A financial dent over a box of cookies was not on her bucket list. You hand her the receipt, and before you can rush to the kitchen, Ellie exclaims, “When’s your break?”
“Excuse me?”
“W— um, when’s your break?”
Your coworkers are suddenly very interested in Ellie, all four of them eyeing her like venomous hawks. Her cheeks burst into flames.
“Um… I don’t think that’s any of your concern.”
And you’re right. Anything involving you is short on Ellie; it was never her business, but a burning in the pit of her stomach desires to learn. Needs to catch you at the right time to give you a proper apology even though she doesn’t deserve the time of day. She doesn’t know what to say.
You use her floundering as a scapegoat and hustle behind the slamming doors. Just as Ellie rushes to leave empty-handed, one of your employees — Abigail reads across her name-tag, keeps professional, but Ellie’s skin burns with the fire in her eyes.
“We’ll have those right out for you,” monotone, but gruff. It makes Ellie wonder if you told any of them about her — she doesn’t doubt it.
“You can wait outside.”
One stiff nod, and Ellie’s booking it until her feet plant on the packed sidewalk, nearly bumping into a couple with interlocked hands. It takes 25 minutes for the box of cookies to be rigidly placed on the lounge table by another employee. Ellie scurries into her truck with a boiling face and pulls out into the road.
When she makes it to her apartment, she eats three mini cheesecakes in one sitting.
She sees why they’re your favorite.
The following week was filled with glares and curses from Dina and Riley — your newfound friends, evidently. They have a way of making Ellie feel like a worthless dunce. They both have rubbed in the tales of you being a thrill to be around; the life of the party whenever they hang out.
It makes her nauseous. And sad.
But her sadness swiftly shifts to bewilderment when she catches you smoking near a lamppost after closing. Still in your uniform with a bag over your shoulder, pants dusted in white, proof of your labor. It’s dark out, the only illumination coming from the light stood tall above you and the orange gleam of your cigarette. The sight shocks her. You didn’t seem like the type.
Maybe that’s where Ellie went wrong with you: constantly assuming… who you are. Your desires, your intentions with her, her friends. She’ll admit her wrongs, of course.
But it has to be to you.
Ellie scares you when she approaches, inhaling the nicotine a bit too roughly because you start heaving. Shoulders hunched and jumping with every cough.
“Uh — fuck, I’m sorry! I-I thought you could see me coming! I didn’t mean — fuck —“
You’re still choking, but you hiss in between, “What the fuck do you want!”
“I’m just — I’m sorry about —“
“You’re not — cough — you’re not sorry! You made your point clear. I don’t why you keep — cough cough — following me. I left you alone like you wanted!”
“I DON’T WANT THAT!” Ellie shrieks in panic.
It’s a heavy-handed admission. A weighted confession that was said too aggressively given your flinching away from her. She takes an instinctive step forward.
“Your cookies… tasted fucking incredible. I’m also an asshole.”
The drag you take from your cig while she rambles is almost comedic. Brows cinched at the middle of your forehead, gauging her. You’re not convinced, but you’re not fleeing like the first time. She takes a leap, and a large step towards you.
“I feel really… really bad,” Ellie’s much quieter, eyes unwavering and the softest she’s ever shown you, “I shouldn’t have… said all that. To you. I’m just so used to being harassed at work. I’m sorry.”
Maybe nicotine calms you. Your body language isn’t as taut compared to when Ellie first initiated conversation, and your eyes soften at her reasoning.
The rasp from your timbre melts her skin like butter. “I didn’t know you went through that. That sucks.”
Ellie shrugs, “I didn’t know you were… nice.”
She made the mistake of attempting playfulness, “Maybe ‘cuz you wouldn’t let me talk.” You snark while ashing.
“I’m sorry.” Ellie implores.
You take one last drag before stomping out the flame. “Me too. For bothering you.”
Ellie cringes at your choice of words, but nods in acceptance. “Are we, uh… okay, now?”
A small smile grows on your face. It’s cute. Makes your cheeks puff out like a hungry squirrel.
“We’re good.” You extend a fist out to her, and she connects her own at the knuckles.
When they drop, Ellie nervously stares at her shoes, “Do you want a ride home?”
“I’m alright, thanks.”
“C’mon, I don’t want you waiting out here by yourself.”
You pause before asking, “What’s the catch?” Your brow arches mischievously.
Ellie doesn’t hesitate, “More of those cookies.”
A giggle escapes you. Soft and airy like a feather. Ellie feels a tight clench in her chest. A thumping from her ribcage. Has your smile always been this vibrant? She mentally kicks herself for not noticing before.
Ellie escorts you to the passenger's side of her passed down pick-up: opens the door for you and makes sure you’re buckled in before starting it up. She learns you’re a metalhead when she cranks the radio to the highest volume.
… How quickly can crushes develop?
Two months. Ellie’s spent two months finding every excuse to spend time with you. She welcomes your visits to the record shop and silently thanks the heavens above when you call after her shift to talk about your day. Listening to your rambles about customers and their weekly cookies has become the highlight of hers.
She’s also found comfort in watching you fail at playing guitar. You’re adorable whenever you strike an incorrect chord or break a string. She’s more than willing to guide you through your trials: late-night invites to her apartment to practice. One of your goals was to learn how to play the entire Vanara soundtrack.
Ellie assumed she simply enjoyed being in your space. She does, but something shifted between you during one specific session. It was past midnight, and Ellie could tell you were getting tired. She innocently suggested for you to spend the night so you wouldn’t have to Uber at such a late hour, and you graciously accepted her offer. When you started to get comfortable on the couch, she tuts in disapproval and invited you to share her bed because it was more comfortable.
What a mistake.
After showering and changing into comfortable clothes, you both crawled into bed and swiftly drifted off. When Ellie’s eyes opened the following morning, her heart immediately traveled up to sit in her throat. If anyone told her she’d wake up with you completely sprawled out on top of her with your warm breath hitting her neck and her arms wrapped around you, she wouldn’t have believed them. She was completely frozen beneath you, but not for the reason she’d assumed.
Ellie was scared to wake you up. Ellie was scared you would move away from her.
She was pulled between waking you up and pulling you even closer. You were soft and warm and you smelled like her cinnamon body wash. A literal human cookie. She caressed your back as delicately as she could, and you nuzzled into her shoulder with every swipe. She hoped the harsh thrashes from her heart wouldn’t disturb you.
They didn’t.
You took a piece of Ellie when you left her apartment that morning. She’s not sure which part you stole, but she hasn’t felt the same since then. A pull towards you that’s electric, sparks her to life, keeps her up at night. Whenever you’re away, at work, not next to her, she’s desperate to pull you close. To breathe in the natural scent of you.
Evidently, crushes develop rather quickly.
“I thought baking was supposed to be fun.” Ellie huffs from where she lays on her bed.
“It is fun! My favorite past-time, actually,” She watches you pace around her bedroom, guitar still strapped securely around your shoulder, “It’s just stressful when you have chefs constantly breathing down your neck. It’s so hard to be creative because they nitpick everything.”
Creating a menu is much harder than Ellie assumed. She’s become the person you’ve come to whenever you’re fired up from classes, ranting and raving about the apparent dickheads that judge your creations. After testing your recipes for as long as she has, how could anyone turn down a dessert from you?
You’re such a hard-worker. Focused, determined… pretty when you’re brainstorming. Pretty when you’re talking… Pretty when you’re smiling. Standing. Staring off into the distance.
“Hm.”
It’s all Ellie can say. She’s been trying to mask her rampant stares at your bare thighs for the past… however the fuck long. They look so soft. So pliable. So easy to stretch and pry and yank at—
Her guilty pleasure went from collecting Pokémon cards to gawking at your legs whenever you wear shorts.
Ellie’s definitely crushing.
Crushing very, very hard.
#mean!ellie#ellie williams au#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams angst#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams#ellie williams x you#ellie williams fluff#lesbian#works 𖧧࣪#ellie the last of us#the last of us smut
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Datura Pt 12
Author's Note: This has literally just been sitting in my drafts waiting for me to get my thoughts in order. I got sick and hit with a massive writing slump and I started doubting where I wanted to take this, but I think I've got it now. Thank you all for your patience, I swear this will end up a finished fic eventually.
Summary: This is literally just angst,
Content Warnings: Some cursing, a little suggestiveness
Previous Chapter/ Masterlist
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There is no sunlight in this world of stone, and yet you know, sense it somehow, that wherever it is above your head, it’s changed. You feel the thrum of its absence in the walls, in the floor, in your bones. It is different and it is entirely your fault.
The familiar stone walls crack when you brush your fingertips, no, not fingertips, claws now, over the walls; the floor shakes with every step you take deeper into the mountain.
“Death,” a voice calls, a whisper on an ether of a new wind, twining around your body. It calls to you as if that is your name, has always been your name, there has never been anything else. “Come.”
You follow the voice through familiar and strange halls, the world of stone crumbling apart around you until you get your glimpse of the ruined world outside. The sun has turned the world blood red, the air dead in your lungs and yet you throw your head back and take a satisfactory breath of it. Good. This world deserves to burn and die.
“Come.” The voice, a male’s you think, though the distorted echo might prove otherwise, pulls you deeper still, until you stand beside a ruined throne, the Mountain now wholly rubble around you. Splattered across the throne, crimson seeping across the stones, the crumpled bit of a rusted chain still clutched in her broken fingers, lies Amarantha. Her black eyes remain open, face twisted in a perpetual scream, though her head now lays separate from her body, much as the twins had been.
You step over the remains, broken bones crunching under your heel as the voice prompts you further. The further you go, the more bodies litter the floor. A flash of red hair beneath the rubble: Eris. A shock of blonde dripping blood impaled on some wood: Tamlin. You drag your claws over their remains and their mangled bodies turn to ash on the wind.
“Death.” If anything lives around you, it withers and dies as you approach, until you crest a hill made entirely of bones. A top the hill, upon a mound of skulls sits a massive, black cauldron. From its mouth swirls tendrils of ancient green magic that splash over the edge, hissing and bubbling like a living thing.
“Hello, Sweet Harbinger,” the cauldron whispers. “Come closer, Lady of Bloodshed.”
You can’t stop yourself from grabbing the lip, the metal biting into your palms.
“Closer, Little Death, let me free you,” it prompts, the magic within swirling over the edge to splash your hands, leaving pinpricks in its wake. “Let me make you all you’re meant to be.”
You wake up screaming, hands clutched to your chest, the ice in your veins nothing to do with the chill of the Mountain. The last remaining pull of the dream clings to your consciousness, makes you push yourself back against the bed frame, trying to escape.
Rhys is up in a flash, arms wrapping around you as he pulls you into his chest, making soothing noises, even as he brushes a mental talon against your shields. You shiver in his grasp, trying to catch your breath, to shake the vision from your mind.
“It’s ok,” he whispers. “You’re ok. I’ve got you. You’re ok.” He lets himself into the nightmare and you make no attempt to stop him because there’s no way you’ll be able to explain how real it had felt. When he’s done, he shuts the door and locks it, so that your mind can quiet.
“It’s just a dream,” he soothes, hands stroking your bare sides.
“What if it’s not?” You whimper into his chest. You’re both still completely bare from the events of the night, having fallen asleep still holding each other.
Rhys continues to rub shapes into your skin as he mulls it over, trying to find the right answer to appease you, even though you know he’s aware it’s a possibility.
“My father,” you press, mind spinning with all the things this could mean. “You said my father started looking for me recently. Why now? What does he need me specifically for that he didn’t need decades ago?”
“I don’t know,” Rhys admits quietly, like he’s ashamed to even say it.
“The twins mentioned he wanted to get through the Wall,” you explain, “but they never found a spot big enough. Are there other ways to bring it down?”
Rhys stills, even as your mind continues to spin. “The Cauldron… it’s been missing for centuries… if he’s been looking for it, if he finally found it…?”
“He’d have to have found all the missing pieces,” Rhys tries to assure you.
“But if he has?” You return.
“He could do just about anything with it.”
“And my uncle never seemed to think that I needed to train my powers because they would just click, but what if he wasn’t worried about them because he knew there wasn’t something strong enough to fully activate them?”
When he doesn’t answer, you tilt your head back to look at him. “Dagdan said…” you shutter as you try and find the words. “He said Hybern specializes in breaking people like me. Like my mother.”
He brings his forehead down to rest on yours, trying to comfort you. “And Amarantha said she’d been wielded in battle. Could this, my dream I mean, be how he did it? How he plans to do it to me?”
Rhys cups your face and kisses the tip of your nose. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
You drag your hand over his, comforted by his warmth and the assuredness he floods down the bond. “We have time,” he insists. “Before he gets here, we have time to get ahead of him, to keep him from ever getting his hands on you. Nothing will happen to you, I promise.”
You tilt your head up to kiss him, gently at first, and then a little more desperately, trying to distract yourself from the panic building in your chest. He continues to flood the bond with soothing thoughts and lets you distract yourself with more kisses and touches, does his best to chase away the lingering fears, and you shut out your questions as he rolls you onto your back.
You have time.
You have time.
You have time.
---
Rhys is gone when you awake, his side of the bed cold. You drag yourself into the tub, hoping the warm water will ease the tension returning in your muscles.
It is strange to be back here. What once was a cage now feels like a luxury, your muscles partially stiff from the shift from hard floor to mattress, as lumpy as it is. You’re more used to the icy bite of stone than you should be. At least the bruises dotting your hips and throat are from something other than being thrown around by a monster in a Pit, but the clink of the collar still reminds you that you’re not free. It’s just a larger cage and it’s keeping you right in your father’s reach.
You climb from the tub and towel off hurriedly. Perhaps, before anyone realizes the door to your cage is unlocked, you can find something useful. That book Rhys had left you should still be tucked into your bed frame if you can find your way back, you can start there.
Your only clothing options are the sheer slip of a dress from last night and Rhys’s discarded jacket, and you slip into both of them as quickly as you can, before ensuring there’s a glamor over the bargain marks on your skin. Both of them. The twining line of stars swirling across your palm is sure to attract notice.
The door is ridiculously loud in the stillness of the Mountain and you see now why Rhys always winnows inside instead of using the door, but you don’t have the time to figure out how to do that now. You get it open a crack and slide your way out before wrangling it shut, body tense the whole time. It’s not like you’re trying to escape or anything, but you’ve never been given the freedom to roam and you can’t jeopardize losing it now.
The hall is different from any of the ones you’d seen previously, the floor covered with an old, but still ornate rug the color of wine. A few tapestries, fading with age, line the walls, depicting great battles from the early ages of the fae. There are other doors along the hall, each a bit more decorated than the last, some with sentries standing out front.
The hall is as dim as the others, at least, allowing you some shelter in the darker corners to observe and calculate your best course of action. Heading left takes you down at an angle, where the hall abruptly ends with a set of double doors marked with a blazing sun emblem and a single sentry. The Lord of Day’s quarters most likely, and though Eris had claimed Helion was with you, you’ve never actually met the male, and can’t risk being caught near his door.
Down the right side of the hall, past a curve in the wall is another set of sentries, guarding a door marked with apple trees, the leaves a dazzling array of red and orange, though the fruit they bear has mostly fallen and turned to mush at the base of the pots. The High Lord of Autumn has favor with the Queen, and it shows. Worse yet, to get away from this wing of the Mountain, you’ll have to walk right past the sentries, both of which are sharpening already pointed daggers. Not Amarantha’s men, at the least, but that doesn’t mean you can get past them uninterrupted.
At the very least, the Lord of Autumn is going to know where you’d come from, considering you’re wearing Rhys’s jacket. Even with the darker shades of the Mountain’s colors, no one’s going to think the black leather is anything else than the High Lord of the Night Court’s.
You chew on your thumbnail, thinking hard about your options. The guards show no sign of leaving, and the torches anchored to the wall above Autumn’s door leave you no place to sneak past.
What would your mate do if he couldn’t winnow around them?
You draw a shaky breath and square your shoulders. Rhys would waltz right past, hands in his pockets, the picture of bored elegance. He wouldn’t need anyone to tell him what his place in the world was, he commanded the respect of everyone around him by knowing exactly who he was and where he belonged. If he was your equal, then you should be able to do the same.
At the very least, the collar might get you passed without incident, because you’ve now been claimed very publicly as Amarantha’s feisty little pet.
You swallow your pride and tuck your shaking hands into the pockets of Rhys’s jacket and walk right past, chin up, pretending you don’t even see them.
“Hey, doll, where you coming from?” One of them whistles at you.
You grit your teeth and keep walking.
“Oh come on, don’t be like that,” he calls after you. “I just want to talk.”
“Dude,” the other hisses at him. “You really want the sloppy seconds of Amarantha’s whore?”
You’re seeing red; talons biting through your nail beds, and it takes everything in you to not turn and slash your claws through the male’s eyes. How does Rhys take this all the time? He never lets it hit him, just keeps walking, and you force yourself to do the same. You only manage to get around the corner by telling yourself that, when this is over and there’s no danger in showing your claws, you’ll come back and make him regret every word.
The hall ends in a staircase and you go down a level and peek your head out, checking for any familiar signs, but see none, so you go down another level. If Amarantha’s rooms are at the highest point, then maybe she keeps the rooms organized by rank, so yours should be a couple floors beneath these. You make sure to draw a little tally mark into the dirt on the walls so you remember how to get back as you descend lower. Six floors down, you finally find a hall with claw marks scratched into the wall.
It feels like a lifetime since you’d been in this part of the Mountain.
The marks lead you back to a very familiar door and you push it open as quietly as you can. There’s no light anymore, now that no one occupies the space and you take a second to let your eyes shift into something that can see more clearly before creeping towards the abandoned bed. Sure enough, Rhys’s book on Death Gods and Goddesses is still tucked between the headboard and the frame and you slide it into Rhys’s coat pocket before turning back towards the door.
“Leaving so soon?” A voice calls from the dark corner of the bathroom and you can’t stop the scream that tears from your throat.
Light flickers to life on the bed side table and you have no choice but to throw a hand up to shield your eyes. Footsteps draw nearer and you back yourself up until your legs hit the bed.
“My spies told me you’d be one of two places,” the voice continues. It’s male, deep, a little gruff. The scent of warm metal and fighting leathers drifts your way. “I’m disappointed to see you’ve debased yourself with that Night Court whore.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” You snarl, tearing your hand away from your eyes, ignoring the slight burn.
The male before you looks strikingly familiar, the slicked back hair a twin to your cousins’, the same dark eyes and sharp features, the same armored chest plate and sigil above the heart.
The male before you smirks as he watches your attitude shift from aggression to horror. “Hello, daughter.”
You’ve never been so well aware of your own heartbeat in your chest. “You’re not supposed to be here yet,” you whisper in disbelief. This can’t be happening to you! You were supposed to have more time!
“And that’s exactly why I’m here now,” he says, stepping closer.
You back away, putting the bed between the two of you. You have to get out of here, have to find help. “What do you want?”
He puts a gloved hand over his heart. “To see you, of course. You were so small last I saw you.”
“Why now? You never bothered before.”
“When I lost your mother…” he says, dark eyes sad. “I lost a piece of myself. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t leave her tomb. By the time I pulled myself together, all traces of you had vanished. I searched, I sent my Ravens, but it has been some time since I even dared hope you were alive.”
“And it’s just a coincidence that you learned the truth right as you intend to start a war,” you hiss. “And you’re fresh out of death gods to wield.”
“You say wield as if you are a tool,” he returns. “As if I don’t intend to set you up to rule as my only heir. I want you seated at my side. Do you think I intend to let Amarantha rule these lands? Lands that have belonged to our people for centuries? She is a pawn.”
This is a trap somehow. “You mean to kill her?”
“I expect you to do that,” he says, his gaze lowered like he can see right through the jacket to where the bargain mark lies. “You’ve already set those pieces in motion.”
“I’ve done no such thing,” you counter.
“Lying is beneath you, daughter.”
“Stop calling me that!” You snarl. “I want nothing to do with you.”
“You cannot change what you are, Y/N,” he steps slowly around the bed and you have no choice but to back yourself up into the corner to get away. “And I worked very hard to make you what you are.”
“You didn’t make me anything,” you hiss, fangs threatening to poke out.
“Do you know how many goddesses I had to go through to sire an heir? Do you know how hard it is to make something like you? I spent centuries moving pieces into place until I found exactly what I needed.”
Claws and fangs tear free, as if your powers have taken control, and you swing as hard as you can at his face. “You vile fucking bastard!”
Despite the gray appearing in the edges of his hair, Hybern is no feeble old man, he snags your wrist and spins, yanking your arm behind you back hard enough to wrench it from it’s socket. His free hand snags the chain around your neck and holds, locking you in place.
“Everything I have done has been for our people,” he says through his teeth. “Everything we will do will be for our people. We have had to live in the dark with nothing for centuries! Prythian abandoned us. And we will take back what we are owed, that is your birthright and your destiny.”
You slam your other elbow as hard as you can into his chest plate after several failed attempts to twist around and sink your fangs into his throat, but the metal of his armor shields him. “You don’t know anything about me! I won’t help you in this stupid world domination bullshit!”
“I’d hoped that you were smart enough to navigate Amarantha’s little court on your own. I gave you time to step into yourself, send the twins to test you. It was my hope that your mother’s spirit would carry on in you, but it seems your uncle has snuffed that out.”
You reach for that bridge between your mind and your mate’s, desperate. “Rhys!”
That dark, obsidian power slithers across the bond, sliding into your mind so easily now.
“It seems I’ll have to find other ways to convince you to see reason, daughter,” Hybern snarls.
“Darling, what’s-” He doesn’t have time to finish before the world starts moving past in swirling colors and roaring wind, as Hybern winnows you both out of the Mountain.
-------------------
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#rhysand x reader#Rhys x reader#UTM!Rhys x reader#acotar rhys#Rhys fic#acotar fic#datura fic#my writing#my fanfic
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Okay here is the new au
Dont have a name for it yet because tumblr doesnt like the E word from the titel so ill have to think of something else...
Sun and Moon had to move from their luxury apartment to a smaller flat to get away from paparazzi after being involved in a scandal
Y/N just wants to live their life and avoids Sun and Moon in the beginning because they really dont want management to find out and fire them (overly cautious of y/n but understandable. Management is super secretive bc of super importent people frequenting the business). Luckily for them they are super inconspicious at work so neither Sun nor Moon notice at all that their new neighbour is also the person that has to clean up their messes at work and sometimes even is in the room to bring something like new clothing when they are currently entertaining a guest
Sun just wants to befriend his new neighbour and is super sad that Y/N is not interestd. He gets a crush almost immidiatly. After he gets kinda friendly with Y/N he gets super afraid that Y/N might find out what his job is and judge him because of it.
Moon is a little more distant but after some shenenigans with Y/N (who wants to stay away from them but still helps when Sun and Moon need it) he develops a little crush and tries to get closer, though all his usual flirts dont work on Y/N and he is super confused about it (Y/N is just used to this shit from work)
#dca fnaf#fnaf sb#fnaf sun#fnaf moon#daycare attendant#sundrop#moondrop#new au#will think of a name eventually i take suggestions#my art#this is fun this is funn#dont mind me being a simp for not only sun and moon but also glamrock chica#she is just so heart eyes#this is a romantic comedy btw#sorry this is kinda long#tw suggestive#again go check out lavenoons accidently undercover if you havnt befor its so good and it was a little bit of an inspiration for this#rlgl au
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New comic for my Undertale roleswap AU, also introducing Mettaton's design! Papyrus said a thing that he Probably Should Not Have, and is very lucky to have time-rewinding powers right now dghgsf
#undertale#papyrus#mettaton#undertale au#don't tag as ship#i still need a name for this au actually#<- coming back to edit these tags with the au's new name!#undertale: scattered extension#UTSE#but anyway. mettaton! he has papyrus' role here. which is why this comic is in snowdin#like the wip name for the au suggests: this au actually takes place after a canon undertale neutral route was completed#mettaton *was* a robot celebrity in the past but his vessel was irreparably damaged in his fight with frisk#mettaton himself was fine since he wasn't fully fused with his body. but he's stuck being a ghost for now until a new one can be built#and eventually he and napstablook decided to move to snowdin together#he technically goes by ''metta'' with most people now but some people (e.g. napstablook papyrus and alphys) still call him ''mettaton''#as for his design.#i haven't decided whether i want that thing around his body to be like a scarf (a boa scarf is what i was originally thinking)#or some sort of floating ribbon thing. like what nahyuta from ace attorney has#either way i wanna give him *some* sort of accessory to differentiate him a bit from all the other ghost mettaton designs out there#oh also quick clarification: papyrus is *not* actually a ghost monster. he's his scarf that was injected with determination. like flowey#but like undyne. mettaton just assumes that he's a fellow ghost who's possessing a scarf. since that's what makes the most sense to him
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TEEHEE KICKS LEGS BACK AND FORTH. ok so nico (name still possibly up for debate but ive started using it so ive probably gotten attached) is. hm. okay basically hes celines dead not dead brother not brother. this is a fun way to describe him so ill continue to.
anyway for all one person who read my hbf fma au stuff his deal is Basically Greed But Reskinned but for the ones who havent ill give a rundown anyway! so i mentioned that celines Braincell Holder brother died in a workplace accident at the young age of Like Fourteen right. well dont get ur hopes up nico isnt him. basically celine did. not take this well at all but in like a (blindly optimistic (i can fix this)) way and never really accepted the fact that hes dead. of course its kind of hard to fix a person being dead but shes already a magic student right she can just study necromancy to bring him back!! dont worry about the fact that shes also a dropout. and never really did many studies on how corpses react after being reanimated. or if they even have the same personalities as the original, if they have personalities at all. shes a bit blinded by her sheer Want to bring her brother back that she doesnt really bother to confirm if its actually possible. much less a good idea
so shock and awe when she actually does attempt to necromancy her dead brother back to life (probably having committed a good deal of grave robbery but lets not mention that) it doesnt go so well. well it does work. kind of. there is a dead kid walking around now and all things considered it could have gone worse hes not a shambling zombie. he does have a personality its just that it is Very Much Not Her Brother and he is Very Insistent on the fact that he is not her brother. its kind of just assumed that his spirit's just whatever ghost was hanging around at the time bc said brother's actual soul was probably Long gone at that point. anyway nicos pretty freaked about being alive and, to add to the being freaked, after a while he starts remembering things that celine's brother did since he Does still have his brain. so its a (High level identity crisis with a dose of slowly uncovering more and more trauma that hes like. experiencing through a third person perspective) deal on one end and a (sunshine character not only stops denying and finally accepts that shes Allowed to grieve but also owns up to the consequences of her own actions) deal on the other. i think its really interesting. sibs dont turn sibs into magical guinea pigs, celine you cant oopsie head bonk hehe your way out of this one
#hes new so i havent Exactly figured out how he acts yet but probably not terribly well#his main insp is an Incredibly Feral character so part of me wants to say that hes just (break stuff break stuff)#but he is still a 14 year old. by the way hes still a 14 year old give or take#i dont know how itll happen but i Really want him and celine to reconcile is all#my ideal is theyre still a sibling dynamic but like. explicitly an adoptive sibling one#but i Will say its a really tense relationship for a good good while. itll take a lot#by the way i still dont have a name for said brother but for. pretty much as long as nicos Around he doesnt go by that#he just kinda refuses to have a name until they do eventually reconcile i think. i think itd be cute to have them brainstorm names together#celine has experience after all :> (shes transed gender) (she made her name a cat pun)#she only suggests cat puns until he notices. he then Gives Up On Her.#he thinks abt it later and goes (oh God Dammit im attached to this one.) and celine couldnt be more delighted abt it#vee shut up#blorbos from my brain
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12:03 pm — gojo satoru
synopsis. gojo tries to convince his first years that he was able to pull you.
contents. fluff, crack??, whipped!gojo, mentions of having a kid, he is SO in love with his wife it's disgusting, the first years are sick of their teacher
“[name] sensei is a good looking woman, isn’t she?” yuji remarked, nonchalantly propping his feet up on the desk. “you think so too, right gojo sensei?”
a sly smile played on the corners of gojo's lips, eventually blossoming into a wide, dreamy grin. “good eye yuji! she's undeniably the most beautiful woman on this planet.”
megumi, seated at the desk beside yuji, couldn't hide his grimace.
nobara's expression mirrored that of a disgruntled sea urchin. “dream big, you two. she’s way outta both of your leagues.”
“she is, isn’t she?” gojo sighs dreamily, his gaze far away. a dopey grin settles over his face; like a man walking on air. it was deeply unsettling to the first years to see a grown man behave this way.
megumi rolled his eyes and muttered his disapproval, choosing to ignore his sensei, who had casually seated himself backwards on a chair.
gojo propped his chin with both of his palms, leaning closer into the first years students. “do you think i’d stand a chance with a woman like her?”
megumi buried his face in his hands, audibly groaning in response.
“a sensible woman like that and you? fat chance.” nobara deadpanned, squinting disapprovingly at her teacher. her negative comments elicit a grunt from the snow-haired man.
yuji’s eyes flit nervously from kugisaki to gojo.
“sensei! i think you have a chance with [name] sensei!” yuji tried to reassure his white haired teacher, offering a thumbs-up. gojo responded by affectionately ruffling yuji’s hair.
megumi couldn’t help but speak up. “she’s a married woman, you know,” he mutters to his friend.
yuji’s eyes widened, “you’re kidding! who do you think got the honor?”
“but she’s so young!” kugisaki exclaimed, slamming her hand on the table.
their discussion is cut short when the shoji doors of the classroom slide open abruptly.
with hands on your hips, you stood sternly before your first year students and their teacher, an air of authority about you.
satoru couldn't help but gulp; you were indeed captivating when you were upset. it’s not his fault that you look so cute when your eyebrows furrow and you puff up in anger.
“i waited for half an hour in the courtyard to start today’s lesson and yet here i find my students, along with their sensei who should be in kyoto for a meeting.” a wry smile graced your lips, sending a chill down everyone’s spine. the three first years bowed their heads in shame.
yuji thinks this is the first time he’s seen his teacher nervous. a bead of sweat appears on the side of gojo’s face.
“honey!” he quickly stands up and walks towards you. with every step he takes, nobara’s face scrunches up at his disgusting conduct.
“don’t.” you warned, raising a finger up to keep satoru at an arm’s length. he respected your wishes to some extent, grasping your hand and placing it within the hold of his own. the diamond on your ring finger glistened as satoru toyed with it.
gasps filled the room as yuji and nobara observed the display of affection. just how inappropriate could their sensei get, and why were you allowing it? what would your husband think?
satoru tenderly caressed your hand in his, cradling it as he leaned in closer. “please forgive me; it was an honest mistake.”
“honest mistake my ass. yaga told me that this is the second meeting you’ve skipped out this month,” you stated, peering fiercely into his blindfolded eyes. satoru’s cocky demeanor wavered, replaced by a nervous chuckle.
“the first time was when i took you to naha, remember?” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “and if i remember correctly, you enjoyed our night out,” your eyes widened, recalling the romantic trip satoru had organized.
feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, you attempted to pull away, but his grip on your hand tightened.
“forgive me?” his voice softened, lips curving downward, giving him the appearance of a dejected kitten.
a sigh escapes your lips. he was going to be the death of you.
“fine. but this is the last time,” you warned, “and you owe me for covering for you.”
satoru straightened up, nodding fervently. “have i mentioned how much i love you?” wrapping an arm around you, he placed a kiss on the top of your head, despite your futile attempts to stop him.
“this is…” yuji’s jaw dropped.
“so inappropriate! shame on you!” nobara’s chair makes a harsh screech with how fast she leaves it to come to your aid.
“kugisaki–” you attempted to calm her down, but she clung to your elbow, desperately trying to pry you from satoru’s embrace.
satoru’s hold on you tightened as he wrapped his other arm around your frame, pulling you close. he plops his chin on top of your head and resists nobara’s attempts to free you. like hell he’s letting anybody take his girl, not even his own student.
“crushing on a married woman is one thing, but to openly flirt with her– ” kugisaki struggled. you tilt your head in confusion.
satoru’s strong arms flexed as he fought to maintain his hold on you. he nuzzled your neck. “’m fine right here,” he inhaled deeply, as if trying to take in as much of you as possible.
“[name] sensei! how can you stand there and let this man disrespect your marriage?!” nobara implored, wide-eyed, disregarding all respect she had for her teacher. “how will your husband react when he finds how gojo sensei behaves around you?” she looks desperate, and you want to laugh at the sincerity behind her actions. you get it now.
only your idiot husband would pull a stunt like this.
“i hope your husband can fight because i’m willing to fight him to the death for your hand,” satoru mutters from your neck. you take your hand from nobara’s shoulders to shove the six-foot-three giant away.
“you seriously didn’t tell them, satoru?” you ignored his whiney protests as you created distance between the two of you.
“tell us what?” kugisaki demanded. yuji was on the edge of his seat, nervously watching the unfolding scene, while megumi put his head down in embarrassment.
satoru looks at you with a deep frown on his face. uncertainty clouds your mind as his silence forebodes something. wetting his lips with his tongue, he quickly closed the gap between you, too fast for you to escape. a secure hand rested on your lower waist as your husband dipped you down to deepen the kiss.
had you not been so absorbed into the kiss, you would have heard the scandalized gasps from your students.
you managed to place a hand on his chest to separate yourselves, “satoru, stop.” his eyes remained fixed on your lips, but he complied.
“yuji, nobara.. satoru and i are–” you hold up your ring finger for display.
“happily married!” your husband finished for you, a triumphant smile on his face. he squeezed you close, throwing up a peace sign. “been madly in love since i met her!”
“what– no way! you pulled her?!” nobara spluttered, head whipping from satoru to you, unable to wrap her mind around the revelation.
yuji’s jaw is still on the floor, “megumi, you knew about this?!”
the sea urchin looks the other direction, avoiding his friends’ judgemental gazes.
“they… raised me.. sorta..” he mumbles under his breath. your heart melts at his confession. unlike you, the other first years don't take too kindly to his comment, as they start shaking him by the shoulder and starting their own interrogation.
“and we did a good job too! don’t you think we’re ready for our own?” satoru smiles down at you jokingly, his hands snaking around your waist and his hands sneaking onto your stomach. he leaves a couple of soft pats.
“you’re cuter when you’re quiet, y’know?” you whispered. taking advantage of your students' attention on megumi, you place a single finger on his lips, hoping your husband does not notice the way your face feels like it is on fire.
he does.
“no need to be shy now,” satoru said, grinning wolfishly, “we’ll continue this at home.”
your face flushes even deeper.
unbeknownst to you, the first years had fallen silent, observing how gojo whispered in your ear, successfully turning you into a flustered mess. perhaps they should give more credit to their sensei.
notes. not proof read (oh no). this was just a random scenario that has been plaguing my mind during halloweekend so i typed it on my phone at a party LOL this is me desperately trying to get out of my writing slump
#kt.writes.·:*¨༺#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo fluff#gojo satoru x you#gojou satoru x reader#gojou satoru x you#jjk fluff#gojo satoru x y/n#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk x reader#gojou x reader
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gonna make my full name be Nicotine but still introduce myself as Nico
#for shits and giggles#it’ll be extra funny if I quit smoking eventually#taking suggestions for a middle name#waiting until I can transition and change my name like >:3#I would absolutely call myself cigarette if I was transfem instead of transmasc#currently everyone thinks I say Nicole and not Nico and that’s like. totally fine and I don’t mind at all#he talks
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I need more fanboy Clark Kent in my life.
Like, he's seen Bruce Wayne interact with a child once and immediately fell in love with the guy. Now his bedroom walls are plastered with posters and he follows several social media accounts focused on capturing pictures of Bruce with kids and/or animals etc. He defends Bruce to anyone, no matter the antics he gets up to and it has become a bit of a running gag around the office.
Then, one day, Cat is out sick and someone jokingly suggests Clark should cover the gala in her stead, seeing as Bruce Wayne will be there and maybe this'll be Clark's shot to finally get his man? To everyone's surprise, Perry really does assign the gala coverage to Clark, who spends the days leading up to the event in a state somewhere between absolute panic and ultimate bliss.
But when the day finally arrives, Bruce doesn't show.
Of course Clark does his job and interviews everyone there (yes, even Lex Luthor) but a part of him spends all night waiting for Bruce to crash the party late, like he so often does.
Eventually, Clark gives up hope and it's shortly after that, that he stumbles upon one of the children dragged along to the event by their parents. Because apparently someone thought a charity gala was a good environment for an eight year old. The parents are nowhere in sight and the child is close to tears, so Clark makes it his mission to cheer the little girl up, regaling her with stories from his upbringing on a Kansas farm while he searches the crowd for her family.
With Clark thus occupied, he doesn't notice Bruce Wayne finally making his appearance for the night. But Bruce definitely notices him. The gentle giant who's all kind smiles and corny jokes... Until he finds the girl's parents. Uncaring of the fact that he's here on a job and that these people are richer than any one person should be and could easily sue him into oblivion, he takes them aside, fire in his eyes, and tears them a new one for losing track of their kid like this. Anything could have happened to her and maybe the readers of the Daily Planet would like to know about that? After all, how reliable and trustworthy could a company whose CEOs won't even look after their own daughter really be?
Bruce is immediately smitten. The passive-aggressive lecture and subtle threats - not to mention the broad shoulders and handsome face - are incredibly attractive to him and he wastes no time cornering the man afterwards.
Clark, who is so starstruck by the mere sight of Bruce coming towards him that he loses the ability to speak, nearly faints when Bruce just straight up shoves his tongue into his mouth. They end up in one of the coat rooms and Clark thinks that's it, just a one night stand. It sucks that he won't see Bruce again, but the night was amazing and at least he has the memory to treasure, right?
He thinks that right up until he gets to work the next day and two dozen red roses are waiting for him on his desk. There's a handwritten card nestled inbetween the petals and on it is the name of a restaurant along with a date and time. It's signed by Bruce.
And that is how Clark gets together with his celebrity crush.
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general life update btw i survived moving halfway across the continent and managed to land a decent housekeeping job but i'm still struggling with basic life functions like eating so i haven't had the energy to make any art. i'm trying to move into my own place this week which should take a lot of pressure off
also theres big Family Drama going down bc my asshole grandpa is dying excruciatingly slowly in the most inconvenient way possible (it's a long story but don't feel bad for him)....
TLDR i'll be back as soon as i settle into an apartment + get enough food in me consistently
#never thought id say this btw but i miss foodservice. been thinking about opening a restaurant here eventually#it's a small town and there's only like 3 non-casino restaurants. zero competition if i serve anything other than burgers lol#a banh mi counter would be easiest i think. maybe a combo sandwich and salad bar#i am taking name/theme suggestions
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hammock.
Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader
Word Count: 866 words
Warnings: Kissing, slightly suggestive
“You’re blushing.”
“I am?” Sanji gazes up at you, dreamy and distracted. “I didn’t realize.”
You hum. You’re only vaguely aware of the hammock’s sway, of the blanket slipping down your shoulders as you prop yourself up and place your hands on his cheeks. Warmth soaks into your palms like sunlight, and you tilt your head, thumbs drawing over the flush on his cheekbones and tapping gently.
“Don’t say this is because of me,” you tease.
His hands reach up to cover yours. “Then I’d be lying,” he replies, turning his head to kiss your fingertips, “and I would never lie about how you make me feel.”
“Not even if you hated me?”
“The day I hate you is the day I should be tied to an anchor and fed to the sharks.”
“That’s awful.”
“I know.” His eyes search your face, and they narrow as he murmurs, “Who could ever hate someone as gorgeous as you?”
(Whoever coined the phrase “flattery will get you nowhere” has never met Sanji, you’re sure of it.)
Leaning down, you press your lips to his nose, to his forehead, to each cheek. A contented sigh brushes past your ears as you do so.
Eventually, you make your way to the source of his sweet words. You pause, and Sanji opens his eyes as you hover above his lips, just shy of meeting them with your own.
“Something wrong, sweetheart?”
“No,” you say. “Just wanted to see your pretty eyes before I kiss you senseless.”
He stills. Then he laughs, the sound blooming from deep within his chest and staining your world with gold. “Well – aren’t you a charmer,” Sanji quips, stroking your waist and pecking your cheek. His words are softer than usual. “Careful with my heart, now.”
“Don’t worry,” you say, and you kiss him fully, drinking in the way his grip on you tightens and the way his breath stalls in his throat when you speak against his mouth. “It’s in good hands, I think.”
The kiss is just as warm as his cheeks. You feel drunk as you pull away, and Sanji lifts his head to chase your lips, whispering your name with the reverence of a believer.
“You guys mind doing that somewhere other than here?”
The two of you freeze in each other’s embrace.
You jolt out of it and push yourself up, accidentally knocking the breath out of Sanji in the process. He wheezes and curls up as you lock eyes with a very unimpressed swordsman.
“Z-Zoro! We”—you scramble to unrumple your shirt, which had ridden up underneath the blanket—“I’m sorry, we – we thought everyone was going to be in the lounge for a while.”
“You thought wrong.” Zoro strides past and drops his laundry on the couch. “This isn’t your personal bedroom, Sanji.”
“I’m aware of that,” Sanji replies, annoyance dripping from every syllable. “Now would you mind just stepping out for a few more minutes?”
“Sanji, it’s fine,” you whisper, patting his chest. “The mood is kinda killed now, anyway.”
He visibly droops. “I know.”
“Good.”
“I wasn’t asking for your opinion, mosshead.”
The room fills with a completely different kind of tension as Zoro crosses his arms at Sanji’s response.
You, still trying to cover up your embarrassment, move to block Sanji’s view, pushing his bangs away from his face and attempting to smooth out his frown lines. His cheeks are still flushed, though the color is quickly fading back to normal as his attention turns back to you.
“C’mon, Zoro wants to fold his laundry. Let’s go up to the lounge and see what the others are up to.”
“Is that what you really want to do?”
“Yeah.” (It is now, anyway.)
“… All right, then,” Sanji acquiesces.
With that, you push the blanket off and clamber out of the hammock, nearly tripping and falling flat on your face in your haste to do so. Sanji follows close behind, and once he’s on his feet, you turn to Zoro and give him another quick apology before you and Sanji leave the men’s room.
“Of all the times to be interrupted,” your companion mutters as the two of you head to the lounge. He takes your hand in his and interlaces your fingers. “I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s nobody’s fault. Ships don’t have a lot of privacy …” You think back to the moment Zoro spoke up and groan, burying your face in your free hand. “I’m just embarrassed he caught us like that. I didn’t even hear him come down.”
“Me neither.” Sanji lets out an irritated sigh and then looks over at you; his displeasure softens. “At the very least, I’ll take it to mean you were enjoying yourself.”
Your face heats up. “Of course,” you say quickly. “I like our alone time."
“I like it too.” He squeezes your hand and leans over to whisper into your ear. “Next time, I could be on top, so I can hide you away if anyone walks in unannounced.”
“Wh – Sanji! Don’t say it like that!”
The man grins as you smack his arm playfully, planting a kiss to your temple as penance.
“Just evening the score, sweetheart.”
#one piece#opla#sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji#sanji#opla sanji#one piece live action#opla fanfiction#one piece fanfiction#reader insert#fluff#slightly suggestive bc of the comment sanji makes at the end haha#sorry for the delay in requests i was in an accident yesterday and life things are happening so !!#i am posting this which has been in my drafts for a little bit
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"Where's Mummy?"
A oneshot fluff, entirely headcanon based, featuring all 3 of the LNDS men being a father. Requested by a lovely follower of mine. Hope this is an enjoyable read for you all. The names of the kids are based on my take, but if you want to include names of kids you had thought of with your husbandos, you may slot that in on your own will!
Want some angst? Go with this series of mine, tears guaranteed: Damnation
Warnings: Fluff as per usual however, there shall be suggestive themes for this, soooo let you imagination run free :)
RAFAYEL - FATHER TO A GIRL
"I'll be fine. Stop worrying would you?" Rafayel groaned with a smile. "Our daughter will be alright." He walked beside you, accompanying you towards the front door. "I am more worried about you with your work instead. So take care of yourself, please? For our sake?"
His concern made you rolled your eyes playfully, leaning in to give him a long kiss. "I will be home by evening, I promise." Your eyes stared into those mauve purple eyes of your husband's, only to have him yank you back into his arms and pressing his lips to yours again. Provocating you into a minor makeout session. Breaths becoming heavier by every passing minute.
You bit your lip the moment he pulled away, reminiscing the feeling of his soft and tender lips against yours. "Don't want you to be late, unless you want to call in sick for the day, hmm?" He winked, a hint dropped for you to decipher.
"You know I can't Rafayel." Your answer made the man pout, arms crossed, but eventually surrendering to the reality of your situation. He press a small kiss against your cheek and sent you off on your way. He stood at the entryway, watching you get onto your bike and rode it out of the front yard and onto the empty streets.
Heading back in, he sat at his usual thinking corner, eyeing the piece of artwork he had yet to finish. Thomas was expecting this piece to be done by two days ago. But an artist's work should not be rushed, Rafayel being an advocate for quality over quantity. He sighed, walking over to pick up his palette stained with an array of colours, before sitting himself in front of the artwork and continued working on his piece.
Hours had passed since then, the strokes of the painter finally stopped when his artwork is finished. He grabbed his phone off of the coffee table and called Thomas. "Rafayel, where the hell is the piece of---"
"It's done, you can come and collect it tonight once it is all dried up." Rafayel spoke, then Thomas started to inform him about the upcoming interviews that he has to attend, one for the local magazine, one for an exhibition taking place abroad... Pitters and patters of feet across the marble floor made Rafayel lost his focus. He turned around to find his daughter, Mariela awake. "Daddy duty calls."
The phone call ended abruptly, with Thomas ending his note on 'There was also an artwork you have to---' Call ended. Ever since Rafayel had taken on his duties as a father, he made sure his works are delayed long enough just so he could spend time with his own family. Recently, you had been called on for many more missions as there has been a shortage of deepspace hunters.
Rafayel and you had discussed about the delegation of responsibilities while being parents to a newborn. Rafayel insisted that you should quit your job so that you could stay at home with him and Mariela. Money not being any concern to your family to begin with. But you could not, you could not abandon your duties as a deepspace hunter, especially when there are not a lot of new recruits coming in.
So you both settled on a solution that meets both ends. Rafayel would delay his paintings and take care of Mariela if you happen to not be at home, but your sacrifice would be to not work past evening times. Him not wanting you to overexert yourself and still being able to spend time with you as a family. The miniature version of you and Rafayel clumsily walked over to him. Small and chubby hands rubbing her cheeks in circles.
"Good morning my little fishie." Rafayel knelt down and gave her a hug, a usual greeting for morning and night. "How was your sleep?"
"Good." She replied, arms curled around her father's neck as he carried her up in his arms. "Where is mummy?"
"Mummy has to work so today, you will hang out with daddy, yeah?" Rafayel sat her at her baby chair by the dining table. He took a plate of ready-made mini pancakes and poured a cup of warm milk into a cup. "Mummy even made you your favourite breakfast." The idea of having his kid eating such sugary stuffs in the morning is unfavoured. But since y/n had woken up extra early today to prepare the breakfast for her daughter, Rafayel will let it slide for this once. but we all know he too soft of a father to reject that if it ever happens again
Watching his child dig into the pancakes, Rafayel started allowing his mind to wander. Mariela's name came about while his wife was pregnant, and you had both agreed on wanting your child to have names related to the sea to remind the child's origins of being half-Lemurian. Rafayel was thrilled to have their names being related to the waters he used to live in and so the naming process is entirely within his control. Both of you settled on Mariela eventually, the name a direct representation of the star of the sea.
...
When y/n rode past the main gates and towards the yard, you found you husband, with your daughter standing next to him, waiting for you at the front of the door. Mariela the size of a toadstool next to her 6' tall father. But her big, doe-like eyes took the shade of Rafayel's, a mirror of his lilac-blue mixture. "Hey there!" You greeted excitedly, quickly pushing yourself off of your motorbike and rushed over to hug your daughter tightly in your arms.
"Mummy!" The brunette toddler giggled, arms wrapped around her mother and head tucked into your neck. The hug between the two was interrupted with Rafayel hugging both of them. Three of them within a circle of a hug. "Hi, mummy. I missed you."
"I missed you too, so so much." A big kiss was given to the toddler's cheek and they all walked further into the house. "What did you do with daddy today?"
"Daddy taught me how to draw fish and he taught me Wewuma." She spoke, a wide grin evident on her cherubic cheeks. This made y/n confused and you turned to look for Rafayel for an explanation but sees him being on the phone. Assuming it is Thomas on the other end of the line.
"That's good darling." You held her close to you, legs directing towards her bedroom. "But I think it is nap time for you okay? Mummy and daddy will make dinner and then later we are going to have pasta!" Mariela's eyes lit up at the word 'pasta', for she is a huge lover of carbs just like you. No doubt you two are of the same bloodline.
Once you had laid your daughter to nap, you started prepping the ingredients in the huge kitchen. Rafayel came by your side and hugged you from behind, breathing in your scent deeply. "I missed you wifey." He mumbled into the crooks of your neck and drew circles on the side of your hips.
"What is wewuma?" You turned over slightly, the question directed towards your husband. But his expression matches yours, confusion written all over his face. "Our daughter said you taught her wewuma today."
That sentence made Rafayel laughed, releasing you from his embrace and with him smacking his hand against the marble counter a couple of times. "Wewuma!" He continued his laugh, but mellowed down when he noticed that you became more confused than ever. "I taught her how to speak Lemurian." He said, the wide, cheeky grin not leaving his face anytime soon.
"Oh." Realisation hits you about his lesson for the day and you shake your head, chuckling at how your daughter had the word pronounced earlier. You can't blame her, as she is not a preschooler yet. Rafayel attached himself to your back again, his lips pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear and you blushed. Despite being married for quite some time, his intimate actions never failed to make you feel like a giddy teen girl.
"Lemurian is already a dying language. So, wifey..." He nibbled your ears lightly, whispering his question quietly. "How about we make one more little us?" His arms tightened around your hips and you felt something pressed against your bum, making you gasped in teasing pleasure. He turned you around forcefully and pushed you up onto the kitchen counter effortlessly, spreading your legs. "Right here. Tonight."
˚ · • . ° .
ZAYNE - FATHER TO A PAIR OF TWINS
"Thanks a lot, my love." You leaned forward to hug your husband, after knowing that he had planned an itinerary for you to get yourself pampered for a whole day. That includes making the necessary bookings and paying for all of the expenses. Not to mention the extra money he had given you so you may use it to buy anything you please from the mall you would be visiting later in your itinerary.
"You deserve it. Given how much you had cared for the kids the past few days as I was busy with work." He leaned down slightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead as a loving gesture. "In return, I shall take care of the kids today."
Zayne fetched you to the middle of Linkon city, where all of the activities planned out in the itinerary are located before he headed back. Not wanting to go home to his toddlers being awake from their sleep. When he arrived home, he heard the creak of a door as he was placing his shoes on the shoe rack. Lumi and Iver, hand in hand, facing their father.
"Daddy?" The both of them spoke in sync, given their connection as twins. Fraternal twins, a rare occurrence for any mothers in life. They are considered a miracle given the statistics whereas out of 100 births that happen, only 2 mothers would end up with fraternal twins. And the percentage of getting fraternal twins are way lesser as compared to conceiving twins of the same gender.
Short way to put it, y/n and Zayne have a very special family, in fact they may be one of the few families within Linkon city to have a pair of fraternal twins. Hence, they are very lucky indeed. Both of the twins were named after snow or winter season, with Zayne's evol being the main inspiration. Zayne's daughter Lumi, carries the meaning of snow and light, while Iver's name means winter in French.
Contrary to their names, none of them have any features that are pale as the cold weather, except for their milky white skin. There had always been a debate on which child inherited the looks of which parent, in this case, Lumi looks like her mother and Iver takes on his father's looks. And it could easily be differentiated from their hair and eye colour.
"Both of you just woke up?" Zayne's voice was gentle, going over to both of his kids and bending down to their eye level. They are both 3 years old, so you can imagine how tough it was for him to lower his height just to meet their eyes. "What do you want to eat?"
"Daddy, can we watch you make eggs?" Iver asked, his hazel green orbs twinkled under the sun rays shining in through their sky light. "The ones that are flat?" He even used his hand to draw a line in the air, to demonstrate the word 'flat' to his father.
Zayne smiled, nodding his head and walked towards the kitchen with the two toddlers bobbing behind him. Their standard breakfast had consisted of nothing but nutritious food which are vital for their growths. For their father is a doctor afterall. Zayne sat them both into their respective baby chairs and put on an apron, not wanting to dirty his outfit, and he started to cook, with the twins watching his every move. A few 'wah' and 'daddy, daddy, do it again!' slipping from their mouths every once in a while when Zayne does something out of the blue.
Half of the day passed, Lumi and Iver sat in the living room after Zayne had given them a bath and a change of clothings. They will be heading out soon for dinner. Zayne has never been a huge fan of cooking, but only does it out of necessity. The same rule applies even now, breakfasts can be done at home but for dinners, if time allows for both of the parents, Zayne would much rather eat out with his family.
"Daddy, time! Time!" Lumi shouted from the living room when they heard the cuckoo's chime, hailing from the handmade wooden clock that you bought a while ago. Although the toddlers had yet to enter pre-school, they are both surprisingly fast-learners. 9 months in, both of them had already started learning alphabets, and by now, their vocabulary has expanded beyond the age of usual three year olds. You strongly believe Zayne's genes are the cause behind this.
Zayne appeared from the room, a long-sleeved black turtleneck clad to his well-built physique, his iconic black slacks makes yet another appearance, and his hand held a dark grey coat. The weather was getting chilly and he decided to bring along a coat for you, the colour identical to his.
"Lumi, Iver, get your coats and I will help you to wear them." Zayne instructed, picking his car key off of the key holder on the wall. He had decided to go with the Maserati Levante i am not sponsored by them but the cars does scream his taste today, a comfortable SUV for his family of four.
"It's okay daddy. Iver will help me." Lumi responded, arms held up horizontally as Iver put on one of the sleeves for her light grey coat, then running over to the other side to help her to put on the remaining sleeves. "My turn." Lumi did the same for her sibling. When they are both done, they walked over to Zayne and held their arms up in sync again, urging their father silently to help them to tie their coats.
Zayne did just that, hair as dark as the night cascading in front his face when he bent down to help his kids tied a knot to secure their coats. Satisfied at the way their knots turned out, he gave each of them a kiss on their cheeks. "Are you both excited to see mummy?"
"YES!" Both of the kids shouted, arms raising, a sign of elatedness. Zayne held onto both of their hands, one on each side and slowly walked them to the car.
...
Zayne had chosen a western restaurant for dinner, reservation timing marked at 6pm. Now, here he sat, with both of his kids secured tightly behind in baby car seats. He was parked temporarily at the valet parking, patiently waiting for his wife. Soft piano music was played in the car to ease the silence as the kids were sound asleep in the back.
Seeing a familiar figure closing in, Zayne got out of the car and walked towards the passenger side, greeting you with a warm hug. "I could not have asked for a better day to pamper myself." You sighed contently, face flat against his chest, inhaling the scent of his cologne. A scent he would only use whenever he is out with you, a soft mix of pine wood and oakwood as the top notes, vanilla as the middle notes and cinnamon as end notes. A scent you are all too familiar with.
"Then I shall plan more of this for you." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. "You must be hungry, I had already booked us a table at one of the nearby restaurants." He opened the car door and you got into the car. Getting into the car, he added. "The kids are sound asleep behind, I will wake them up once we arrived at the restaurant."
"Hello my babies." You greeted once the car door to the back was opened, watching your twins stirred in their sleep, before eyes slowly fluttering open.
"Iver..." Zayne cooed to his son, standing on the other side of the door, unbuckling the baby seats for the twins. "We had arrived at the restaurant. Let me give you a lift, alright?" You had never imagine Zayne with kids, given how cold he is of a person. Not mean and ignorant, but just, monotonous, quiet and calm. Having kids with him was unexpected, but him asking for kids was even more shocking.
The young man lifted his son into his arms, smoothing the back of his son's coat to make sure he is fully covered from the brazen cold wind and he headed in after locking the car. With you, holding onto your half-awake daughter behind in, walking swiftly into the restaurant.
The dinner was enjoyable, with the twins munching on to their kids meals and with you sat next to Zayne, having a delectable meal based on the waiter's recommendation. "The food here is good." You commented and your twins looked up, Lumi smiled and nodded, while Iver, with his face stuffed, nodded as well. "So what have you kids been doing today?"
"We watched cartoons." Lumi said, eyes mimicking your eye colours radiating her giddiness. You assumed the cartoons would be more educational rather than entertaining as Zayne does prefer the twins having to gain some form of knowledge from the cartoons. For him, the method is practically killing two birds with one stone.
"Daddy also read some storybooks for us." Iver added in, still chewing onto his food, which made Zayne leaned forward to wipe the boy's lips clean with the napkin. "And we took a nap on daddy's chest."
"Be careful of choking, Iver." Zayne warned, his tone soft, giving him son's cheek a soft pinch. Zayne's lips tugged upwards, there is no way he could be mad at his own twins. That is how much he loves them.
"That is good to hear. Sounds like an eventful day for today. And I think daddy did a great job." You happily stated, resuming your meal. A hand on your thigh made you jerked slightly and you looked over, your husband's smile had exchanged for a smirk.
"It is my responsibility to take good care of the kids." He eyed the twins, and facing back to you, his orbs turning a shade darker. "But, it is also my responsibility to make my wife feel good. Mentally..." He trailed off, hands smoothing up your thighs till his thumb glided slowly over your intimate area. The table cloth a good disguise as Zayne's fingers worked his way to pull your panties to the side, collecting the wetness that was pooled there.
You shot daggers towards your husband as this is a public area but he paid no mind to you. The tip of his middle finger, the one adorning the wedding ring, slowly pushed its' way inside of you, pumping an agonizing pace into you. "And physically, of course." pls do this to me too Zayne, i want more babies too
˚ · • . ° .
XAVIER - FATHER TO A SON
"DADDY! DADDY! DADDY!" Lucian came bursting in through the door leading to his parent's room, causing Xavier to stir in his sleep. Eyebrows furrowed at the loud sounds of his son's voice at the early start of the weekend. The copy of Xavier jumped onto the bed and grabbed ahold of his father. "Wake up daddy!"
"Yeah, yeah I am awake now." Xavier yawned, rubbing his eyes with one hand and the other coming up to secure his son on him so he don't fall off. "What's the matter?"
"Mummy said you can take me to go get ice-cream today." His light blue eyes just a tone lighter than his father's when he propped himself up on his father's chest, patiently awaiting for a response. "Daddy please?"
"Okay okay." Xavier chuckled, hugging his son tight in his arms and the young boy laughed. With that, Xavier got out of the bed, with Lucian in his embrace. The hallways outside of the room wafted the smell of noodles and he knew immediately that you are still within the house.
But he was wrong, when he saw you being all dressed up, in a white t-shirt and blue jeans, sitting at the front of your door when you are tying the shoelaces to your sneakers. "Where are you going?" Xavier asked.
You turned at the sound of his voice and watched as Lucian was placed onto the floor by his father and the little boy came running to hug you. "I am heading to the mall with Tara for a little while. She needed me to help her pick out a dress." Standing up, you checked your outfit in the standing mirror for one last time. "At the meantime, you okay with bringing Lucian out for ice-cream?"
Xavier smiled and nodded obediently, taking long strides to press a loving kiss to his wife's lips and he sees her off. Lucian waving his small hands to say bye-bye to his own mother. "Have you eaten yet kiddo?" Xavier asked his son, only for the toddler to shake his head. "Alright, come on, let's have breakfast together. Then we will go for ice-cream later."
Xavier placed Lucian into the baby seat at the dining table and he took off the lid of the pot that was on the stove and he noticed that you had made tomato soup noodles. A dish that you had recently learned from social media. Your first try at making this dish however, was a failure. With Xavier finishing the tasteless noodles and struggling with diarrhea for the next few days. This time, he had his fingers crossed, hoping that the soup would be edible and not cause any unwanted effects.
Before giving the bowl to his son, Xavier tasted the soup base first, to taste if it would be too hot for his son to ingest. To his surprise, the soup was sweet and tangy, which marks a win for your cooking this time. He hungrily filled up his own bowl, before scooping a few spoonfuls of soup and noodles into Lucian's bowl. He also made sure to cut the noodles short enough so it would not cause Lucian to choke on his own food.
"Did mummy made this?" The 3 year old asked, eyes wide, moving in between his father's lips, and to his bear-shaped plastic bowl. Lucian have had a fair share of his father's cooking. The experience of watching his father cook was just as traumatic as eating the food his father had made. There was even this one time, Xavier nearly set the kitchen on fire because he added in some cooking wine into a very hot pan filled with oil and that made Lucian cried for the whole night.
"Yes, your mum made this." Xavier ate his noodles, slurping onto it like a champ. "If she asks me to make breakfast for you, we can just skip breakfast and go for ice-cream instead." Xavier acknowledges his incompetence when it comes to cooking, and it is the only one thing he would not dare to compete with you. he just cant cook anything that deals with fire or electric, just admit it with me boys and girls
...
"Daddy, what do you want?" Lucian asked his father, looking at the flavours that was on display. "Do you want the blue one? Or the green one? Or the red one?" He swung his short legs back and forth, all the while sitting on Xavier's shoulders. The little one did not feel like walking earlier on and that was why Xavier gave him a lift on his shoulders.
"Which one would you like kiddo?" Xavier smiled politely at the waitress behind the counter and the waitress returned the smile, a blush coming onto her face. Who would not blush at the sight of a good looking young man with a son that looks just exactly like him? "How about the blue and red one?"
"Okay!" The young boy excitedly agreed, watching the process of the ice-creamed getting scooped out of the canister and placed onto a cone. Xavier slowly lowered his son down and held onto the hand of the young boy before making the payment at the counter. "Thank you!" Lucian spoke to the cashier when the ice-cream was handed to him and they both took a seat by the window in the store, facing the streets.
Xavier had always wanted a boy, the sole purpose being he could train the son well enough so you can be protected. You were not buying into his idea to begin with but the moment you found out that you were pregnant with a boy, Xavier could not be more than glad. He was so happy to the point he said. "We should name him Lucian, as he shall be the light in our lives." Xavier's words touched your heart and since then, Lucian has been the light in both of your hearts. just like you are the light in OUR HEARTS hello?
The young boy took a lick out of the blue ice-cream, then switched to the red ice-cream and took another lick. Seeing his tongue turning purple, Xavier pointed at his son. "Your tongue is turning purple because of the ice-cream, kiddo." Taking his phone out, he took a picture of Lucian with his purple tongue hanging out of his mouth. He then sent the picture to you, with the caption 'Brain Freeze'.
"Daddy, here." Lucian stretched his arm out, the ice cream in hand and held it in front of his father's face. Xavier took it as an invitation and he took a big bite out of the ice-cream. His action made the young boy flabbergasted, mouth forming an 'O' when he realised that his father just bit off a whole chunk and now he is left with a few more lick of ice cream.
The son's intense gaze at the ice-cream made Xavier felt guilty that he took such a huge bite. His son was not much a naggy child, but he still would not want to upset his little boy. "I'm sorry kiddo, I can---" He wanted to offer to buy the boy another ice-cream but Lucian only laughed, his tone amused.
"That is so funny daddy, when you go AHHH---" Lucian mimicked the way Xavier bit the ice-cream, mouth widely opened and face all crinkled up to show just how big of a bite Xavier had conducted. His son's reaction made Xavier laughed as well, Never knowing his son has such a sense of humour.
The door opened, chiming of the bells at the door could be heard and Xavier looked up, seeing you walking in with a bag in your hands. "Hey boys!" You called out and Lucian turned in his seat and called out to you, arms opened and waiting for you to hug him. Xavier took the ice-cream out of his son's hand so he would not dirty your shirt and he stood up, taking his place to stand next to you.
"How was the outing with Tara?" Xavier took the bag from you and pulled a chair over from the other table as you set your son back down onto his chair. The ice-cream that your husband was holding previously was returned to its rightful owner.
"It was eventful. We only managed to find the dress she wanted at the highest floor." You fanned yourself, sweat beading at your forehead. Your husband took a piece of tissue out of the tissue holder and he dabbed it across your forehead, not wanting to ruin your makeup since you are still on an outing with him. "Thanks a lot."
"No problem." Xavier purposely avoided your gaze, hiding his smile. "The tomato-based noodle soup you made this morning is very good by the way. I enjoyed every bite of it." He complimented, looking over to his son and noticing the young boy, staring out of the window, in the direction of two kids playing by the park, chasing one another.
"Daddy, mummy." Your son's voice beckoned the both of you to turn your heads to face him. His stubby little fingers pressed against the window, pointing towards the two kids at the park. "Can I have a brother?" The way he phrased the questions sounded like siblings could be bought off of a shelf. Your jaw dropped.
But Xavier was expecting this, expecting the fact he would not just settle for one child. He loves you so much, not only as his lover, but he also loves the way you look, with your stomach bulging during the days you are pregnant, carrying a miniature version of him inside. And not to mention, he enjoys the process of giving you a baby. Just the thought of seeing you pregnant again, his cerulean eyes catch yours, similar to a gaze of a predator awaiting to jump onto its prey. He reached his hand out to take yours on the table, giving it a small squeeze of comfort.
"Of course you can." Xavier's gaze darkened, hungry for intimacy. He dragged his fingertips up and down your arms, and stopping right at the back of your hand to draw mindless circles on it. Doing all that without getting his eyes off of you. "Daddy will not stop until you get a brother."
Sorry this took wayyy longer than expected, the toughest part was to find the pictures that would match the faces of the kids and also having to do research for their names and figuring our scenarios that would make the fathers take care of their kids. Other than Rafayel, Zayne and Xavier are going to be out most of the time due to their work!
But I had fun creating this piece, hope you guys enjoyed this!
Lots of love <3
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#fluffy#rafayel love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#lnds#xavier love and deepspace#rafayel sfw#rafayel x reader#zayne x reader#xavier x reader
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"DON'T WANNA WAIT ON IT, TONIGHT I WANNA GET NASTY" | GETO. S
synopsis: on your night out with your boyfriend, you start feeling a little needy which results in him taking matters into his own hands. but after being rudely interrupted by his best friend, suguru knows exactly what to do with you.
content warning (so much omg): porn with a bit of a plot, fem! reader, established relationship, there's a bit of a dom/sub dynamic between reader and geto but it's not very obvious, dry humping, making out in the car, semi-clothed sex, sex on the couch, cunnilingus, blowjob, praise<3 lots of it, pet names (baby), dirty talk, suguru knows how to talk, size kink, fucking on satoru's couch, throat/face fucking, squirting, strength kink. heavily not proof-read (i was too tired) really, just grab your shower head.
word count: 3,5k
note: thank u for almost 9k followers! and most importantly, i need to get railed by this man. and very soon.
another note: my one and only @aurelianamu was the one to suggest the idea btw!!!
comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
suguru loved you like this. when you were so horny and needy that no thought in your head was cohered, and all you cared about is having his cock inside you. the way you got flustered as you watched him drive, your face turning red and your breath catching in your throat when he fixed his pants or his shirt rode up a little to reveal the happy trail beneath the fabric. or how you immediately turned to look out of the window when he put his hand on your thigh, praying that he wouldn’t squeeze it.
suguru found it so amusing, how you were trying to act like none of it was affecting you but he could feel the way you were squeezing your thighs together, or shifting on the seat to grind your pretty clit against something, anything, even if it was the seat of his car.
which eventually resulted in him pulling the car over in a pretty dark area and ushering you to straddle his lap.
it wasn’t the most comfortable position, but you did not care—suguru’s lips are on yours. suguru was kissing you so good you were starting to feel dizzy, his hands were squeezing your thighs, your ass, your waist—and your were slowly starting to lose your mind at the electrifying feeling of his rough, big hands on your skin. he pulls away from your lips and kisses down your neck, smiling when you quickly melt on top of him and your hands are shakily placed on his shoulders, squeezing them to let him know he was making you feel so good (although your sounds were making it pretty obvious).
you start moving your hips back and forth on his crotch, and despite being pretty out of it and dizzy, you smile when you hear the muffled groan of your lover, his lips pausing at a certain spot on your neck before switching to his teeth.
he pulls away from your neck and stares at your hips, at loss for words at the way you swiftly roll them back and forth on his pretty visible bulge and he sighs, a hand gripping your side before staring up at you—your flushed face and fucked out look.
“fuck, you’re so sexy.” he whispers under his breath and lets his other hand find your other side, squeezing hard enough to make you pull up your shirt for him to see your skin. “that’s right, that’s it baby.” his praise sends tingles down to your pussy, and you think to yourself that there’s no way you were going to cum like this—in your clothes, in suguru’s car in some random place he found. but it was happening, and the realization that you were going this far just because you were horny for your lover seems to soak your panties even more.
but the moment is short lived when suguru’s phone starts pinging. once, then twice and then the sound of notifications is louder than your moans and your lover’s groans, and it’s hard to ignore it now. you huff a little when he reaches for his phone on the front board of his car and his eyes squint in annoyance trying to see who could possibly need him right now.
of course it’s his best friend.
gojo
dude
gojo
dude i left in a hurry this morning for a mission and i kinda dont know if i turned off the stove or not
gojo
you live pretty close could you pleaseeee go check on it for me?
gojo
ill pay you
gojo
actually i wont but pls go check it cause im really far away from home
suguru sighs out loud and leans back on the head rest of the seat. he sees your disappointed stare along with your flushed cheeks and brings a hand up to your face, thumb caressing your jaw before tracing your lips.
“sorry baby, we’re gonna have to start driving.”
“was it satoru?” your immediate and correct guess on who could possibly interrupt such a great moment has your lover smiling to himself before placing a hand behind your head and pulling you closer to him. he kisses you sweetly, tries not to deepen it but when you whine against his lips and pull away, he almost says fuck it and pushes his seat back to fuck you on all fours.
“it must be urgent,” you say against his lips before shuffling back to your seat. “come on, lets go.”
suguru hates when you’re this disappointed and sad, he wishes he could tell satoru he didn’t see the messages and take you to the back seats of the car to fuck your brains out. but he knows that satoru knows him too well, and that there’s no way he didn’t see the messages.
he starts the car and on the way there, suguru comes up with an idea. he doesn’t share it with you, knowing that you would immediately shut it down and flat out refuse. so he waits until you two get there to share his plan with you, knowing very well that a simple kiss and grinding his painful bulge against your core would easily make you give in to it.
—
when you arrive to satoru’s place, you feel tired, worn out. you and suguru did absolutely nothing beside dry humping, but having it be interrupted so suddenly made your mood drop a bit too hard. you stand in the living room of the strongest himself, looking at the various framed pictures of himself and your lover through every single ugly, awkward and embarrassing phase of their lives and it’s heartwarming.
but one thing you can never get used to is how expensive satoru is. you forget that he swims in money, and so his apartment was a duplex that reeked of opulence, with furniture that probably cost more than your yearly income. you try not to touch anything and choose to stand next to the couch while your boyfriend checks the house to see if his best friend did indeed leave anything on.
“he needs to put cameras here or something,” you say when you see your boyfriend approach the living room with a relaxed stance, hands in his pockets.
“hm, why?”
“it’s pretty fancy, you don’t think he could get robbed?” suguru smiles at your worry and places a hand on the back of your head before pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“i’m pretty sure anyone who thinks it’s a good idea to rob satoru is stupid.” it doesn’t ease your worry but you decide to let go of it.
“well, if everything is safe then let’s go.” suguru’s hand doesn’t leave the back of your head. instead, it travels down to the small of your back and pushes you closer to him, your chests flushed against one another.
“we’re not in a hurry baby, and we were in the middle of something before coming here.” you freeze when you realize what he was insinuating and your hands immediately go up to his chest, in hopes of making him realize what he was suggesting in the first place.
“baby… we’re in satoru’s house,” you laugh nervously, hoping that the mention of his best friend's name snaps something in him-- but you don’t try to push him away, the arousal that you felt in the car coming back in strong waves when you notice the lustful stare of your boyfriend.
“and? satoru is not here,” his other hand rests on the back of your thigh and travels up to your ass, squeezing the flesh. “I left my baby hanging,” he leans down and brushes his lips against your quickening pulse. “you were so close in the car, I’m sure I can make you cum quickly, yeah?”
normally, you wouldn’t have agreed to this, to being fucked stupid on satoru’s expensive camel leather couch in his living room. you would’ve pushed your boyfriend’s head away from between your thighs and told him how absolutely insane all of this was. normally, you wouldn’t be this fucking horny to begin with.
but you were, and it was stopping you from thinking straight.
suguru on his knees was already enough to make you drool, but the way he had pushed your skirt up and gripped your thighs before diving into your pussy—you were starting to think all of this was a dream. but when you looked down and locked eyes with an eager looking suguru, tonguing at your clit before sliding his nose over the sensitive bud and dipping his tongue past your folds, you felt how real all of this was.
you were a mess, chest heaving and hands not knowing what to hold onto. they rest on your boyfriend’s shoulders but you quickly retreat them when he starts sucking on your clit so good, your back arches off of the couch.
“oh—“ you buck up your hips but suguru easily pins you back down with a single hand. “oh god.” you sigh and throw your head back, hands gripping onto the couch.
your boyfriend looks up once again, and he has to hold himself back from fisting his cock at the sight of you—a fucked out mess from his mouth. your hair was everywhere, and your lips looked swollen from his kisses. you don’t seem to notice the way he’s staring at you, solely focused on the way he’s sucking on your clit and he chuckles. he does and watches your eyes roll to the back of your head, so fucking pretty.
you try to fuck yourself on his tongue, grinding on his mouth for any sort of relief. your could taste your orgasm, it was at the tip of your tongue and when suguru pins you down to the couch with his strong hands, watching his arms flex is what sends you over the edge.
“that’s right, baby come on,” his praise makes you whine out loud. “come on baby, let that pussy make a mess on me.”
you cum on suguru’s tongue with a mixture of a cry and a whine, toes curling and your thighs shaking as you try to come down from your orgasm. each kiss your boyfriend presses to your clit as you let your orgasm wash over you sends a jolt through your body, and right when you think he’s done, he’s standing up and the visible bulge in his pants makes your mouth water.
you expect him to free his cock from his pants, and the eager look on your face makes him chuckle.
“what? you want this?” his hand palms his cock and you nod, hands resting on his thighs as his bulge is now at eye level with you. “this is what you’ve been wanting all night, right baby?” his hand rests at the top of your head, and your chest swells with something when you look up at him and find him staring down at you, looking so proud. butterflies dance in your stomach as you hold eye contact with him, your hand tracing his bulge with delicate fingers.
“go on, kiss it,” your hands start to unbuckle his belt but his quiet “ah, ah” makes you halt your movements.
“kiss it through the pants baby, I don’t think you’re ready to have it yet,” you don’t try to protest, fingers grabbing his thighs before pressing a kiss to his bulge. you drag your tongue over the fabric of his pants until you reach his belt. you push up his shirt and kiss his stomach before sliding your tongue over the same happy trail that almost drove you crazy earlier that night.
“one more baby,” his hand rests under your chin and tilts up for you to look at him. you kiss the bulge again, and again and again. you hear suguru chuckle from above and his hand caresses your throat for a bit.
you watch with eager eyes as his hand starts to unbuckle his belt and you rest your hands on the back of his thighs, patiently waiting for him to throw the belt somewhere before you’re unzipping his pants and freeing his cock from its confines. you hold his heavy in your hand, stroke it a couple of times before kissing the angry tip.
“fuuuck, look at you,” his hand goes back to your neck and squeezes it. “not so worried about satoru finding out anymore, hm?” the lazy grin he flashes you makes you shift on the couch and you’re suddenly aware that you’re grinding your pussy against satoru’s couch.
you shake your head and tap the tip of his dick on your lips and then wrapping them around the sensitive head. you pull away from his cock completely before kissing the base of his cock, the sight of you appreciating his cock with kisses and licks makes suguru place a hand on top of your head.
“shit, baby,” you lick all the way from the base up to the tip before pushing his cock inside your mouth. your hand wraps around the rest of his cock and you start to bob your head at a slow pace, your smaller fingers trying their best to stimulate all of his cock. suguru looks absolutely breathtaking from this angle.
his hair was sticking to his forehead and he had his shirt pull all the way up, holding it in place with his hand. his hips buck towards your mouth a few times and you gag each time, pulling away from him to breathe only to wrap your mouth around him not only five seconds later. he wishes he could find your eagerness amusing, but he finds it hot. he can feel his thighs tingling and the drool that’s trickling down to his balls makes the sight of you sucking him off on his best friend’s couch even hotter.
“yeah, just like that,” he sighs and throws his head back. his eyes flutter shut and you take it as a sign to go faster, your other hand finds his balls and you carefully start to fondle them, you hollow your cheeks and bob your head faster.
“fuck baby, mhm,” he looks down at you and finds you staring up at him, flashing you a smile that reaches up to his flushed cheeks. “god, I could fall in love all over again.”
you let go of his balls and slowly let go of his base before bracing yourself on his thighs. suguru watches as you inhale before pushing his entire cock down your throat, gagging and then pulling away.
“b-baby,” he chokes out, his hand finding the back of your head. you repeat the same motion once, and then twice and the faster you got, the harder it was for suguru to have complete control over himself.
“breathe in for me,” his hands grab your face and you do as he tells you, closing your eyes as you brace yourself for the contact. suguru starts fucking your face at a slow pace, but it picks up when he hears the sound of your throat being absolutely destroyed. you gag on him a couple of time and there’s drool on your lap and on the couch, but you don’t let it stop you from nuzzling your nose against suguru’s pubes.
your boyfriend chokes out a few curse words as he cums down your throat, and when he pulls away, his hands are all over your neck, caressing it and praising you for taking him so well. you cough a few times and there’s tears running down your cheeks, but you still manage to flash your tall lover a drunken smile and your hand finds its way towards his very sensitive cock.
“baby—“ he tries to protest, his eyes squeezing shut.
“more suguru,” you kiss the tip and he almost falls over. “I want more. if we’re gonna do it on satoru’s couch, might as well make it worth it, yeah?”
you were the devil, and suguru who usually bragged about how hard it is for anyone to trick him was easily falling in your trap.
he towers over you on the couch and kisses you so roughly you’re pushed back on the couch. your legs wrap around his middle and your arms find his neck, and you can’t deny how good it feels to have suguru’s big body covering you whole with so much ease.
his cock quickly hardens from you two making out, and when you feel it poke your thigh, your hand reaches down to stroke it and your thumb grazes the tip.
“you’re having too much fun,” he whispers against your lips and you giggle, but it quickly dies down when he pushes past your wet folds with so much ease. you don’t need time to adjust, but the force in which he was fucking you with knocks the wind out of your lungs.
“satoru will never find out what we did on his couch,” he says, out of breath. “he will never know that I ate this weeping pussy so good on his couch,” his hand then finds your neck and squeezes with a lazy grin. “or that I’m fucking it stupid while he’s away on a mission,”
each word goes straight towards your pussy, your brain seems to stop functioning because you stop responding to your boyfriend and your lips are parted in pleasure. his thrusts are getting rougher and sloppier, and he presses a hand on your stomach with an eager grin.
“if you’re gonna cum on me again, might as well make it messy.” you don’t understand what he means at first, too lost in the feeling of your approaching orgasm on your fingertips. but when it washes over you in violent waves and small cries and suguru fails to pull away from you, but chooses to press harder on your stomach, you start to panic.
“suguru—“ you choke out a sob when the tip of his cock keeps abusing the same spot and over again. “suguru, it’s too much—!”
“you can take it,” his voice is low and his eyes are fixated on the way your squelching pussy seems to not want to let go of him. “just one more baby, okay? one—“ he sighs out and his pace falters for a second but he finds eagerness once again when he sees your head thrown back and hears the cries of pleasure.
he pushes your legs up to your chest and presses them there as he pounds into you with all of his strength. the couch starts moving with each monstrous drive of his hips, and your eyes widen when you feel something down there.
“suguru wait—“ your hands try to push at his shoulders. “m-messy, it’s gonna be messy!”
“good,” he keeps fucking into you and pins you down to the couch with his weight. “come on, I know this pussy can make a mess,”
your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel his pelvis rub down on your clit, and along with the tip of his cock incessantly abusing that sensitive spongy spot, your body finally lets go and you let the earth shattering orgasm wash over you in shaky waves and a loud cry.
suguru curses under his breath when he feels you spray him with hot liquid but he doesn’t stop and continues to fuck into you until he empties himself inside you with a groan before pulling away from you, afraid to hurt you by plopping himself on top of you.
it takes you a good minute to catch your breath, and suguru caresses your stomach snd thighs, soft praises fill the air before you can finally look him in the eye with a less hazy mind.
“hi baby,” he says softly, a hand resting on your stomach.
“hi,” you reply in a voice barely above a whisper and he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.
“let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” you don’t say anything and let him lift you up and carry you to one of satoru’s guest bathrooms.
despite feeling drowsy, your earlier concern resurfaces at the top and when you jolt as your boyfriend sits you on the toilet seat, he quickly expresses his worry about hurting you.
“did I hurt you?”
“are we gonna clean satoru’s couch before we leave?”
suguru stares down at you in amusement but answers you anyway.
“I’ll get a cleaner baby, you don’t worry that pretty head, okay?” you hum in response. there’s silence for a moment before you speak up again.
“that poor cleaner,” you say sleepily, head resting on suguru’s stomach. “give him a tip, okay?”
your boyfriend stifles a laugh and pats your head.
“yeah baby, no problem.”
—
two days later, you’re laying in bed with your boyfriend, watching a random show on TV before his phone starts pinging again. you both lock eyes before he's checking who's texting him. and lo and behold,
gojo
SO YOU DID TAKE MY OFFER
gojo
i told you my couch is comfortable
gojo
but damn getting a cleaner for it???? you two sure got comfortable
suguru shows you the messages exchanged between himself and his best friend and he laughs when your face still turns a red color.
“I told you he wouldn’t mind.”
“no! he knows we’re messy!” your boyfriend pulls you on top of him and his hand lands on your ass with a harsh smack.
“you mean filthy,”
“not the point!”
2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
#moon's works#geto suguru#jujutsu kaisen smut#geto smut#jjk smut#geto x y/n#suguru geto#geto suguru x reader#geto x you#jujutsu kaisen getou#geto x reader#geto x reader smut#jjk getou#getou suguru x reader#jujutsu geto#jujutsu kaisen geto
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Not that this would ever happen, but like food for thought:
Ghost losing his military ID and you finding it. I know he doesn't have a photo on his file but Id like to think he needs some form of identification? No? It's fictional it doesn't matter anyways--
You were tidying up, sweeping and such when you saw a card face down. Immediately you recognized the back of the little shiny plastic ID and a smile rose to your lips.
Some poor bugger had been dumb enough to drop their card.
Going over to it, you were practically rubbing your hands together with anticipation of just who the noob was. Upon snatching it up from the linoleum, you eagerly flipped it over, but were left with immense confusion.
Who the fuck is this guy?
Your brows furrowed as your eyes flickered over the picture hungrily. You'd never seen him before in your life, which you considered a pity really. He was handsome, that you had to admit, yet a stranger all the same.
It was only after lingering seconds of taking in every square inch of the photo, attempting desperately to place a name to the face did you hazard a look at the actual name of who owned it.
Silence encapsulated you in your entirety. The music which lowly played overhead was muffled out, the slight sound of your breathing faded and the tweeting from the birds just outside the window halted.
You were staring at the ID of none other than one Lieutenant Simon Riley.
Blinking dumbly, a strange, tinging sensation began spreading through your limbs at this forbidden knowledge. How had he managed to lose his card? How the hell were you supposed to return it without giving yourself away or up??
Slapping it down upon the table with the back facing upwards, you have a five minute brain storming session on what to do. Involved in the matter was much pacing, along with sweats, shakes and the occasional pause to flip the card over and sneak another peek.
Eventually you decided that it would be easiest to either slip it under his door. So you take a sticky, place it over his face, write him a small note and set off on your return journey.
You sprint away from the scene, not wanting to be caught mid return. Not exactly considering the more of a rush you make yourself seem in, the more guilty you looked.
It didn't take long before you saw him next, stomping around, throwing things aside recklessly. You could practically feel the flames shooting off of him with how pissed he was; and against your better judgement, you suggest he maybe go look in his room.
That perhaps, just perhaps, some good samaritan had found it. Your feeble attempts to ease his mind absolutely did not help, but he did follow your advice and went and checked. Sure you hadn't been the most casual, but it was better than the unhinged fit of rage you knew he was undoubtedly immersed in.
Lividly he clomps away, storming off to his residence to--in his mind--be met with nothing.
Or so he assumed.
Your vaguely pointed directions solidify the funky feeling in his chest when he opens his door and the card is actually there. Narrowing his masked gaze, he reaches down to the downwards facing ID and plucked it from the floor.
As he grabs it, his fingers brush against something other than just the cards hard plastic. Flipping it over, he finds it the sticky note you had placed over the picture and on it, in pretty writing was "keep better watch of this next time handsome, who knows who could've found it ;)"
He looks up into his room from the card, a mixture of emotions but confused was the biggest currently. His anger had to take a back seat as his mind was thrown into a mixture of emotions and thoughts. His mind is conjuring up a thousand different possibilities, yet none of them fit.
At least not well enough for his liking, however plausible.
He never directly calls you out, as that would mean he would also have to loudly state he had lost his ID in the first place. Instead of saying much of anything to you, he simply opted to watch you from there on out. Leering from the corner to see if you acted weird.
And since he always gives you heart palpitations, and there wasn't excactly a time you weren't making a fool of yourself in front of him, he had nothing new to observe.
Deep down in his soul--he knows.
bonus:
Ghost rides the instinctual feeling until one day during a meeting when Price gets you to write on a whiteboard. "You have much better writing than my old scratching, be a dear and jot this down for me?"
Compliantly, thinking nothing of it, you begin to do just as asked and jot down whatever Price is listing off to you across the board. Attempting to make it as neat and legible as possible, you were in your zone and all thoughts of the ID incident pushed to the back of your mind.
And there he is met with the neat, beautifully scrawled writing yet again and it's a very intense but silent mini freak out full circle connect the dots where he's like 'I KNEW IT DAMMIT!!!!' but very casually without any movement whatsoever aside from maybe a slight eye widen.
#simon ghost riley#ghost call of duty#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley cod#simon riley x reader#ghost simon riley#simon riley#call of duty#ghost cod#ghost mw2
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regarding bff gojo, (sorry if this is insane) but can i request a bff gojo x fem!reader x random girl where they have a 3sum but gojo eventually just ends up paying attention to reader bcs he’s IN LOVE W HER ??!
⋆ mdni. bff gojo satoru. basically all things that happen in a threesome: Satoru, you and the girl make out w eachother, fingering, creampie ( to reader ). AAA NOT INSANE AT ALL I GOT BUTTERFLIES READING YOUR ASK 🫶.
⋆ tried this w a different writing style aaa idk how to feel. anyways... let me know what u think.
sometimes you wondered what Satoru’s hidden skill was, to make you fall so easily into his schemes. was the puppy eyes he gave you, adding how he wanted to spend more time with his adorable best friend? following the logic that Satoru even texted you from the toilet, separation anxiety perhaps. he was blunt and direct, that’s a fact, but you did not expect for your him to suggest a threesome all of a sudden, sure, you had sex once but you couldn’t quite wrap your head around the fact that Satoru was already planning a second time.
the girl sitting in his bed is quite pretty, and oddly similar to you, with the same hair, skin tone and body shape, it was kind of scary at first, but you brushed it off considering it was a mere coincidence. yet Satoru looks utterly excited, almost bouncing off the walls as his eyes trail from you to her, and again until someone speaks.
“come here” he gruffs, your best friend’s voice is already husky and deep with desire, tapping his thighs in a silent invitation for you to join as where his hands caress the other girl’s sides, he’s cupping her breasts but his eyes remain on you, “you’re gorgeous” it’s a whispered word that Satoru speaks with his gaze still locked in yours, swiftly shifting to her eyes as to make her feel as if the compliment was for the both of you, Satoru knows it wasn’t.
and he tries, of course he tries to give you the same eagerness, but you look so fucking sexy perched on his lap, helping him get the other girl’s shirt off and he wishes it was your hands on him instead.
“Satoru” you breathe out his name, —a slight warning for him not to let the girl out after he spent the last minutes making out with you—, and he looks at you like you’re water in a desert, lips red and puffy from the intense kissing. with a brief nod he turns to her, pressing kisses on her chest and up her throat, licking on the skin before hesitantly kissing her lips, from your position on your sides, you could see Satoru’s eyes open, slightly turning sideways to look at you again.
you chuckle softly, finding his behavior slightly adorable, like a puppy looking for approval. carefully you approach him, deciding to press kisses on his neck at the same time Satoru groans and the girl whines, his eyes fluttering close at the intoxicating sensation of your lips, making him messily stain the front of his boxers with precum.
a couple of minutes pass until you’re all naked, Satoru having placed you next to her as you gently kiss, and in any other situation, he could have found the sight incredibly hot, but he can’t ignore the pang of jealousy in his chest. why aren’t you kissing him?
“you taste so good” the girl smirks looking at you, and Satoru’s brow twitches, she licks her lips seductively, almost fully ignoring the man’s presence currently kneeling between your bodies.
“you too” you speak with your face burning, and your best friend can’t take it anymore, leaning down to kiss you himself, almost fucking your mouth with his tongue; from behind the messy sound of your lips clashing you hear a whimper, looking from the corner of your eyes how she touched herself at the sight, biting her lip for a fleeting second before Satoru is tilting your jaw roughly, forcing you to focus in him.
Satoru’s hand is quick to find her dripping cunt, plunging a finger that quickly turns into two to keep her busy, moaning as if it’s the best thing that has ever happened to her, all to make you spread your pretty thighs and allow the dripping head of his cock to press against your pussy, if he kept on just kissing you, he would have cum all over your belly.
“so good, baby” he groans, eyes darkened and dilated pupils looking down at you as his cock stretches you out, you could see the way his breath hitched in his throat with each inch engulfed in your warm cunt; it’s a mess of lewd noises, from the girl’s moaning to your whines and Satoru’s grunts as he fucked you both, occasionally she raises up, attempting to caress his naked body towering over yours, but your best friend only slides his fingers deeper and harder inside her pussy, making her whine and lean down on the bed again, giving him enough space to suck on your tongue and swallow your moans that are only meant for him.
you can’t help and feel dizzy at the way Satoru looks and fucks at you, grinding his hips down so perfectly you’re sobbing in pleasure, and, for a moment, you’re left speechless when he forces your knees up his shoulders, fucking you so deep you couldn’t help and cry out, digging your nails on his back. that’s all Satoru needs.
a whimper of protest is heard, you are trying to raise your head but he’s quicker, cleaning his hand off her slick in the sheets before using both thumbs to press down your forehead, keeping you pinned as his body engulfed you fully, forcing you in a mating press with his mouth tasting your screams and your pussy swallowing the whole girth of him down the base, messily creating a sound where his hips roughly smacked against your ass.
you wondered if he always fucked like that, but the stimulation on your clit rubbing on his pelvis, g-spot tortured by the fat tip of his cock and nipples continuously rubbing against his hard chest made you forget about the rest.
“fuck, sweetheart” Satoru lets out a broken moan, half surprised half as if he was in pain at the sight of your almost rolled back eyes, mouth hanging open in desperate cries at the same time your pussy fluttered wildly. “you’ll make me cum so hard, this pussy was made just for me” he groans, not stopping his thrusts even if you gasp and cream his cock, he’s almost drunk, his own eyes threatening to roll back at the flutter of your cunt, begging for his cum.
a few more thrusts and he’s cumming deep into your pussy, with a sharp groan that makes you shudder. “’Toru... where is...?” you attempt to ask, but Satoru couldn’t care less, leaning down to kiss you without replying, but instead humping your pussy slightly, testing the waters if you’re ready for another orgasm.
“dunno” he swallows, uninterested, licking down the path of your throat and jaw until his nibbling on your collarbone, “can I fuck you again?” he begs, and there are the puppy eyes Satoru always gives you when he wants something, and how can you refuse when your best friend is so cute.
#𐔌᭥ᩙ༉#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#satoru smut#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru#satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#gojo smut#jjk#Jujutsu kaisen#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒲𝒜𝒩𝒟𝐸𝑅𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝐸𝒴𝐸𝒮 — attractive things they do
info ⭑ includes: itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, oliver aiku, mikage reo, michael kaiser, yukimiya kenyu ﾉ suggestive bordering nsfw (minors do not interact) ﾉ all character written 19+
₊˚ପ⊹ RIN guides you by your waist. when you’re playing around and purposely blocking his path, his arms stretch out to take a hold of you before effortlessly reversing your positions with the click of his tongue and an easy, lazy smirk. it’s also one of the few physical actions he’ll display in public, preferring it over holding hands or slinging an arm around your shoulders. he can see you this way, keep you in his sights. when you’re not paying any mind to your surroundings and nearly walk into traffic, he pulls you into him and gives you a squeeze, leaning down to whisper “be careful” against your skin. you jump at his touch and the feel of his breath tickling your ear, cheeks burning with the reminder of where his hands were roaming and exploring the night before.
₊˚ପ⊹ SHIDOU walks around the apartment in sweatpants that hang incredibly low on his hips. your focus shifts from the pot of water you’re waiting to boil to ryusei as he pads into the kitchen after finishing his shower. beads of water drip from his hair onto his bare chest and roll down his tanned skin until they reach his v-line. you don’t realize the water on the stove has come to a boil until shidou clears his throat, jerking his head at the stove. “you’re staring real hard, pretty,” he drawls with a lazy grin. it only takes a few strides for him to close the gap between the two of you. his hands grip the counter on either side of you, trapping you in place as fuchsia eyes filled with mischief stare down at your figure. “something more you wanna see?”
₊˚ପ⊹ OLIVER intently stares at your lips whenever you’re talking. to be fair, each conversation starts with his eyes on yours but they always happen to drift down to your mouth. he takes in their natural pout and the subtle shine that your chapstick leaves behind on them. eventually, his mind begins to wander. he thinks about how soft they would feel sucking hickeys onto the pulse of his neck and across his collarbone or wrapped around the head of his—"are you even listening?“ you ask with crossed arms, the corners of your lips turnings down in a frown. "of course i am,” he tells you, finally dragging his gaze up to your eyes. “i just hear you better this way, that’s all.”
₊˚ପ⊹ REO puts his hands over yours every time you reach for your wallet to pay. he can feel the way your fingers wriggle beneath his palm, but he ignores the movement, intertwining his fingers with yours while he pulls out his card and hands it to the cashier. he’s got more money to his name than he knows what to do with, so it only makes sense for him to spoil you. he might smile and breathe out a laugh when you slap his shoulder and frown, sulking about how you feel bad for spending all his money, but he hears you. if you really feel like paying him back, he can think of a couple of ways you could do so—some that are better suited taking place in the bedroom.
₊˚ପ⊹ KAISER tilts your chin up with his finger whenever you refuse to look at him. it shouldn’t surprise you, seeing him offer fans smiles and hugs, but you can’t help but think about it when the two of you are taking your leave. “are you seriously mad?” he asks from beside you, and it wouldn’t have upset you if he didn’t laugh like it was unreasonable. you scoff and roll your eyes but before you’re able to make it any closer to the door, you’re being tugged back. all too suddenly, kaiser is in front of you, his hooked finger angling your head up and forcing you to meet his azure gaze. “you know i only have eyes for you, right?” he murmurs, like his words are meant for you and you alone. he’ll show you that his statement holds true when you get home.
₊˚ପ⊹ YUKIMIYA uses the bottom of his shirt to wipe away his sweat. on the occasion that you accompany him to a weekend practice or individual workout, you tend to look out for it. after the intense training when he’s cooling down, you watch attentively as he drags the hem of his shirt across his upper lip to collect the beads of perspiration. the motion leaves his abdomen exposed, putting the defined lines of his abs and the trail of dark hair peeking out from his shorts on display. your staring isn’t as discreet as you think it is but yukimiya doesn’t mind it. even after he catches you gawking, he keeps his shirt pulled up so as to not interrupt your view. when finally do look up at him, he’s peering at you over his glasses, tongue running along his lower lip.
hey! it's manon :3 ! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎
#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: blue lock#itoshi rin x reader#rin x reader#shidou x reader#oliver x reader#reo x reader#kaiser x reader#yukimiya x reader#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#bllk x you#blue lock x you#bllk drabbles#bllk smut#blue lock smut
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Regency AU with Price (as always the gif does not represent the reader, only the vibe)
Tags: first meetings, social faux pas, love at first sight, British imperialism mention, classism, a little period typical misogyny, Price keep your hands to yourself please
You've never deluded yourself into thinking you're marriage material, never concerned yourself with your lack of marriage prospects. The child of a doctor with no title to his name, and a midwife with even less. You're in good standing, but you know well enough that among the delicate fingers of the noble ladies, you're a sore thumb.
A captain is certainly out of reach for someone like you. You don't mind, of course, you're perfectly content to remain single and eventually take over your father's practice. Still, you do look up with the rest of the crowd when the announcement is made. Captain John Price. He's young. Too young to have made such a commission, but his eyes are old and the stern set of his brow, the tight lipped smile, speak to a man who has seen more in his short life than most men will by 80. His eyes meet yours and you look away, snap your fan open to distract yourself from the boiling heat of the greenhouse the party is being held in. That must be what makes your skin prickle.
You bemoan the fact that your friends have lost all interest in conversation in favor of tittering over the new arrival.
"Fresh from the colonies, I hear," one of your friends whispers, "he hasn't been home in a good few years."
"I heard he's going to be made a baron," your other friend whispers back.
"I hear he's rot his dick clean off from scurvy," you grumble.
"Did you now?" A voice rumbles with amusement behind you. You squeeze your eyes shut for a brief second and curse yourself before plastering on a smile and turning to face the man of the hour. You flutter your fan in front of your face and hope it looks more demure than your mouth would suggest.
He's better looking up close. His eyes sparkle, and his smile seems less forced, more open. It's the hint of teeth that break up his lips, different from the tightness he'd given upon announcement. You curtsey, as is proper when meet a man above your station, which is just about every man here. Money can buy you an invitation but not the good will other women may have.
"Captain," you have no follow up for that, so you attempt to mean it as a greeting, "I meant no harm."
His fingers tighten around yours when you try to pull them away, but he does straighten up, apparently unbothered by the surrounding crowd's murmurs. He must have hit his head and been sent home due to madness. You're sure that's the only explanation for the heat in his eyes and the smirk on his lips. A man who's lived a life of violence and still holds himself so tall shouldn't bow his head to you.
"Of course not," he holds his hand out, and like a fool you place your fingers against his. He doesn't raise your hand to his lips like so many other men, he bows to it. Bows to meet your knuckles with his lips. Bows with his arm tight behind his back and his eyes lowered. As if you were the queen, and not some doctor's daughter. Your face bursts with heat and you glance around to be sure there aren't any eyes on you.
"Please don't do that," you tell him quietly, whispering it furtively to try and stem the murmurs. His grip on your hand shifts, drops your fingers to hold your wrist.
"Perhaps you'd prefer something else?" He pulls your arm up, turns your hand over to press his lips against the thrumming pulse in your wrist, his gaze holds yours all the while. Your stomach flips pleasantly. The tips of your fingers brush against his dark hair, and you imagine you can feel it through your gloves. "A dance? Or an apology?" He kisses further past your wrist, pulling you closer, "Or perhaps I should be asking for one from you." Another kiss, just below the bend of your elbow.
Was there a crowd? You can't imagine there's anything but you and the captain? No one in the world but the two of you standing in front of each other as his lips skate the top edge of your glove. The feeling of his skin against yours is like touching the inside of an oven, a short shock that makes you want to pull away, a heat that lingers long after the touch is gone. Have you ever wanted to put your hand in a fire so badly?
"Would you like me to apologize?" You ask him, pushing your voice out even past the breathless bubble in your chest. He closes his eyes, tips his head to run his nose against your skin with a sigh.
"Never."
It's so simple a word and yet it drops like a heavy weight into your stomach. It roots you, binds you, when his hand touches the small of your back to pull you closer you go without a second thought. Spellbound.
"God," he breathes, "I'd have come home sooner if I knew you were waitin' for me."
"You don't even know me," You smile, feeling like you've been let in on a joke only the two of you know.
"Oh sweetheart," something in his voice is cloying sweet, something in his eyes -so stormy blue you'd think he bottled the ocean tides just to see through their colored glass- that speaks to a promise you never hoped for, "I've got a lifetime to learn."
#cod x reader#x reader#x oc#cod x oc#captain john price#john price x reader#john price mw2#john price#captain price cod#captain price mw2#captain price#captain price x reader#captain price x oc#oc: duck#oc: witch#take your pick on who it is#x f!reader#price x reader#price x oc#regency au#gnawing at the bars of my enclosure
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