Writing this right after playing 7&8 is crazy, quite literally like 15 min after
So like SPOILERS!!!
This was in my 'cut Sonar route', which i finished first.
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Victor/Sonar x Reader
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He was working for Shroud. Your heart almost gave out. He was working for Shroud?
You never expected your ex-teammate to turn against your group. He was still part of it, he should know that. He looked good, that much you could say, but your heart was just so broken. Maybe it was because of your crush on him, but to be brutally honest, it was because of the bond you two had built. Working beside eachother for months, talking, laughing.
But one thing you couldn't shake. He sounded so heartbroken over the comms.
After the entire fight, you were bleeding, panting and feeling like you could cry.
You saw him being led to the cop car, he locked eyes with you for a second, his head down, frown on his beautiful face. That frown stayed there the whole walk, until Mal spoke up. "He's with us." she said, looking at the cops.
The pair didn't let Victor go for a bit, until Robert told them to. Vic's eyes lit up and his ears pointed straight to the sky again, the way you liked to see him. Happy.
After a good hour of partying, everyone had started to relax and mingle with eachother, like any good party.
You looked up to the sky, hearing footsteps approach you. "Is that seat taken?" he asked timidly, knowing that his 'revenge' probably hit you like a brick.
"I don't know, will you turn against me if i say no?" you said bitterly, not looking at him. "Alright, alright, i deserved that." he said, already turning around to walk away.
"I missed you, you know?" you said, wiping away tears.
He turned back around, walking closer. "I missed you too-" he said, before you cut him off, pulling him closer and kissing him. "You're never doing that again, got it?" you said angrily, he hastily nodded as you pulled him back in for another.
"Get it, Victor!" Malevola hollered at both of you, the rest of the Z-Team joining in not soon after.
"And you're taking me out on a date." you said, as you pulled away. "I want something that lasts, not a one night stand."
"I want something that lasts too." he said softly, pulling you into his chest as you finally let the tears flow from the stress and the betrayal.
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maybe not the best fic ive ever written but im still processing the whole game
Look I made you some content! Simp made you your favorite, open wide. Here comes the content. It's a beautiful day for a silly little ficlet to warm back up to writing again lol
gn!reader, no gendered pronouns used. Pure fluff. Slightly suggestive themes, nothing explicit.
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Arven isn't a furnace, per say, but he's definitely warm. You learn that quickly during your first night together. He's warm and soft in all the best ways. His kisses are gentle, tentative, hesitant. It's only when you press his cheeks between loving palms, your thumbs rubbing smooth circles along his stubbled skin as you tell him explicitly: "Hey, you're good. I like you, and this is fun." That he starts to gain a bit more confidence.
He's still not quite...boisterous. That's not really him. But he's present, not as nervous or flighty.
You don't "make love" that night, but you're certainly loving to one another as you learn your bodies. Timid caresses gain traction, and whispered sighs get louder. Kisses become a bit more heated.
No, it wasn't love making, but love was there.
That's why the next morning, you feel for his warmth, that soft rigidity and stability of him under your hand.
You're met with soft, cool pillows and blankets instead.
Your eyes blearily open.
Arven isn't there.
You roll over.
He isn't in your bathroom if the ajar door is anything to go by.
Had you pushed him too far?
Your mind panics, going over the details of the night again. You'd both checked in with one another constantly. Had...had he not felt comfortable? Was he not comfortable enough with you to say no?
You flop over again, rather ungracefully to try and grab your phone, but it was away from the charger overnight and died. Fainted? What...what do rotom phones do exactly? Was there a rotom buzzing around your apartment right now, escaped from the confines of a smart phone?
Whatever, there's more pressing matters.
You plug the device in with near shaking hands.
It slowly starts to charge, and you heave a sigh as you stand. You can't turn it back on with such a low battery anyway. Might as well grab a bite from the kitchen. Maybe bread and jam or something. Maybe you could make Arven something...like a peace offering? Something to show you didn't mean to upset him?
The man can be so unsure of himself at times.
You pad softly into the kitchen and are met with the sight of your Pokemon out of their balls and bouncing around the dining area. You jolt in surprise as they rush you.
"Well good morning!" You greet the one who made it to you first.
"Good morning!" Comes a voice from around the kitchen corner.
You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of it, barely holding back an embarrassingly high pitched noise of surprise.
Arven rounds the corner, his fluffy hair pulled back into a low ponytail, though there's still his usual bit of fringe falling over his face. In his hands is a silver mixing bowl and one of your whisks.
"You're good with omelettes for breakfast, right?" He asks you, easy as anything.
You only realize you're staring when he pauses, a bit of color dusting his single visible cheek.
"Is...is this okay?" He asks, and you can almost see the confidence of earlier drain from him like sand through a sieve.
"Uh..." You falter. "Y-Yes!" You try to snap back quickly before he fully retreats into a shuckle shell. "Sorry, I just... Haha, I... I woke up alone..." You shift your weight a bit, then move closer over to him, approaching the breakfast bar that divides you.
"I thought maybe I scared you off or something? I was already plotting ways to, I dunno...try to win you back or something."
Arven laughs, and the confidence seems to return. Good. It suits him.
"Win me back? Huh... Maybe you should make breakfast then." He sets the bowl down on the countertop, leaning over it a bit with a smirk on his face.
It's then that you notice the frilly apron covering his otherwise bare chest.
He must've found the thing in the back of your pantry, some gag gift that you'd been given ages ago.
Once again, you can't help but stare, making Arven laugh all the more.
"What? You don't like it? I dunno, I kinda feel like Saguaro in this, ya know?"
He flexes comically, but you absolutely can't deny the muscle he's built up over the years. He might not be as jacked as your teacher was, but...
Well, there's a reason you keep staring.
He picks up on this easily enough, laughs, and takes the bowl and whisk back off the counter.
"Don't worry. I'll finish breakfast this time, but you owe me an omelette next time, kay?"
➞ summary : you’re sick and arven takes care of you.
➞ genre : fluff
➞ cw / other : nothing
➞ a/n : and the poll has spoken
you groaned at your immobility, your head and legs hazy and tired like a weight was strapped onto them. you felt miserable and unbearably uncomfortable with the sweat trickling down your neck from your fever; but recovery takes time, and how you were spending it in bed felt long without movement.
the tv in the background, though playing a favorite show of yours, resounded in your head as a distant buzz of noise. what, or who, you were focused on was your caring boyfriend with his clashing of utensils and pots, making something for you that was “guaranteed to flip your frown upside down.”
apparently, he’d acquired some sort of spice from one of his recent ventures that he claimed would heal you up pretty quickly. you’d joked about it being a burn heal, and he’d laughed along and said it was something better. it sure smelt better, the aroma floating inside your room already lifting some of that weight off your legs just to go see what he’s making.
still, you were tired. and walking was the last thing you felt like doing.
thankfully, arven had finished as he flourished a bowl and scooped what seemed to be a soup of some kind out of the pot to rest in the container. after sprinkling some other things on top, he picked up the bowl and strolled carefully towards the bed.
“voilà, an arven speciality!” he held out the bowl to you. spoon in hand, he peeked a glance at you. “…are you strong enough to help yourself? or do you want me to?…”
“i feel like i can barely move my legs, much less my arms.” you replied, your voice evident of your fatigue.
“i’ll feed you, then! you okay with that?”
“i mean—sure,” you were a bit caught off guard by his immediate response, but it quickly faded as his reaction reminded you of how much he loved you.
spoon feeding was definitely not something arven was used to—but how hard could it be? embarrassing was a word he could use to describe it. but it just as quickly faded as your off guard expression did as soon as your eyes lit up at how good it tasted, not to mention revitalizing.
it seemed that life just coursed through you as you slowly but surely sat up. sure, you were still burning. but some of your strength was back to being awakened.
“it worked!! do you like it?!” he set the bowl and spoon into your stretched out hands.
“of course i do!” you smiled softly, eyes closing. “anything made by you is a treat to me.”
his face turned pink as he sighed in relief, your giggling to his growing flush delivering another cupid’s arrow to his heart.
work of kyushiblast , please do not translate , copy , or repost here or on any other platform !!
There was something serene about the mountain lake at night. White moon beaming down its gaze, the dazzly lights of the stars freckled over the water’s clear surface, rippling against the bank. Frogs croak in the distance, their chests beating out with each ribbit, a sing-along with the chorus of crickets chirping their way through the night.
Sebastian can barely hear it though.
Ears cotton stuffed, deaf to the rest of the world, his eyes hyper-focused on you; The way you look up at him, skin naked and wet, hidden away under the water’s surface save for the supple skin of your collarbones and shoulders. Careful droplets caress over your form, rolling down your wet skin, going home to the pool below.
“Hi..” It’s all he can muster, running a palm down each side of your waist, holding the divet from your ribs to hips, letting his fingers sink into the soft curve of your body.
If he knew this was how a simple night smoke would have gone then Yoba, he would gladly become a chain smoker, blowing through pack after pack to have you just like this. To have a chance of catching you walking his way. To keep you from going home in a timely manner to selfishly drink up your company. You weren’t new to each other. Finding that sweet dance of playful sex, fooling around during your shared moments of downtime, exploring your bodies through rough bites and hard, snapping rolls of hips.
This was something else. Something all-new and different.
It started with a quip, some stupid thing that had managed to catch your attention, striking up a conversation full of sarcasm, dry and witty, bordering on something self-deprecating. You fed into it, spurring the conversation along, even accepting the butt of his cigarette when he offered it up to you. Oh, how your lips wrapped around the filter as you take in a drag, blowing that spicy smoke out from your lungs, up into the air before it wafts away.
Closer and closer you came together, leaned up against the thick bark of a cedar tree by the bank of the lake, shaded by the soft shaking leaves, hidden from the moonlight, faces lit up by the soft orange glow of the cigarette with each pulling drag. Sebastian’s lazy, squinted eyes flick between your own, watching the glint of moisture spark with the flickering burn of the minuscule blaze. His teeth sink into the pierced flesh of his bottom lip, Adam’s apple bobbing with his dry attempt at a swallow.
Tensions. Oh, tensions.
Rising up and up until they boil over.
You breathe out slow, letting the thick smoke escape your lungs, leaning close, blowing the spiced air gently into his face, chin tilted up as if you were going to press your lips into his own. Of course you pull away, holding the dying cigarette to his lips, watching the ash burn bright with a final pulling drag before the poor butt is flicked away. Sebastian holds his breath in his lungs, letting his palm cup your jaw, long fingers spreading to hold your face, thumb brushing once over with a caress.
You part your lips for him, breathing in his smoke, taking the shotgun with a little quirk of a grin cracking at the corner of your mouth. Honest to Yoba, Sebastian nearly lets himself hum out a sound of need, aching to get his lips on a newfound craving, to hell with his smokes, you were worse than nicotine, wanting to taste you on his lips and never get rid of everything you could give him. Before he can even get a kiss in, your finger stops him, pressed into the plump swell in a shushing motion, a light chuckle huffing from your throat.
You pull away and he chases, pitifully leaning forward into the newfound empty space, awing at the effect you have on the otherwise stoic man. You throw him a look over your shoulder, easily slipping off your top, throwing the fabric his way, shielding his view of your stripping form before he hears the wavering wave of the lake, moulding around your body as you get in. You were something spontaneous, ripping him from his comfort zone, somehow urging him to remove his own clothes with a cheeky beckon of your finger and a light, sing-song call of his name.
You were a siren, he was sure, pulling him against his own judgements as if he were hogtied, making his heart beat hard on his ribs, getting his mind to follow your call.
“Water’s nice, Sebby~” It's really all it takes for him to chase you like a lost kitten.
Of course you tease and run, splashing him with water, flicking droplets with a kick of your legs when you try to avoid him, play-fighting under the beam of the moon, disrupting the flat surface of the water. Push and pull, cat and mouse- Except Sebastian isn’t entirely sure who exactly the mouse was in this situation.
But you’re ever so gracious, aren't you? Wrapping your arms around his neck, legs hooking on to him as if you were a koala, lifted effortlessly thanks to the gravity defying properties the water blessed you with. He greets you, and you breathe back.
“Hi yourself..” Twinkly, sparkly eyes kissed by the moonlight. It's all he can think about. Your gorgeous face all damp, ends of your hair lapped at by the water, lightly moistened thanks to all the play teasing.
Words are useless.
Especially when his lips are on your own, moulding to your sweet mouth, deep and spit filled with tongues swirling over each other, noses huffing in search of air, and yet refusing to properly pull away. It's all silent sighs against each other's lips, clicky spit-filled swallows as you try to catch your breath, arms tightening around his neck in a desperate lock, fingers threading through the hair on the back of his head. Sebastian’s hands wander, down your waist, squeezing your hips, curving over your ass for leverage, carefully grinding you into the swelling pudge of his cock, making himself at home between your warm folds. That's what this was; Warm. So, so warm on his skin, shivering goosebumps down his back at the juxtaposition of the cool, lapping water.
He moans, and so do you. Swallowing down each other’s sounds with feverish kisses, lips moving harder and faster, slipping from the slow tandem you had roped yourself into, more teeth, clattering and clipping with little care - Hands racking through his hair, grabbing healthy fistfuls with a squeezing a tug, palms squishing the fat of your ass in a groping massage.
“Fuck me-” You chirp between hot kisses, squeezing your legs around him tighter, pushing the swell of your tits into his chest. Sebastian groans, clumsily moving you to the bank of the lake, pressing you into the slope of sandy, pebbly dirt, bodies still mingled within the lapping water. Your hair is not spared from being drenched and sand-filled, cool water kissing your skin, washing over the hot press of your bodies. Sebasian’s hands dig into the ground, fingers scratching lines into the surface with a pebbly drag, taking desperate fistfuls as his lips continue to devour your own.
His chest huffs, eyes glued shut as his kisses move, biting down your neck, letting himself suckle deep bruises and teeth-filled nibbles into all the sensitive spots of your skin. You cry out, breathing his name with a hiccup in your throat, fingers twisting a tug against his hair, thighs squishing him harder against you. The sound makes his cock bob, that call out into the open air, right by his own home, crying out for his attention seemingly uncaring of any prying ears that could be nearby.
He couldn't hold back, not like this, Yoba- He needed you, needed to sink his cock into your cunt, feel the warmth wrap all snug around his veiny length, save himself from the bite of the night air and the lap of shallow water licking at your bodies. His own tongue dares to lap up those droplets on your skin, licking the rough of his taste buds up your soft neck, finishing with a spitty kiss to your ear before he growls out.
“Put me in, Princess.. That's it- cmon..” He urges, nuzzling his temple against your own, coaxing you through the process of sinking him into your heat. “Hold me like that- fuck.. Tugging on me so sweetly.. Getting me nice and hard f’you? Yeahahh?” He can’t help but babble a little, spurred on by his own desperation, something he brought upon himself- Nothing kills a man faster than his own head.
“Promise- promise you’ll fuck me- please.. Pleaseplease-” You slip his head between your folds, sticky-wet even through the wash of water between your laps.
“Promise, Baby- Gonna fuck you s’good, s’okay- I gotcha.. I gotcha..hahh-” He nods, rolling his hips while he speaks his promises, sliding through the fat of your pussy, knocking on your clit.
Sometimes to stay alive you've got to kill your mind. And it dies. Any legible thoughts killed away with the warm sink of his cock into your supple, velvety cunt, pulsing hard with a thick, veiny throb when the pudge of his head kisses a press into your cervix.
Sebastian muffles a groan, huffed with an ‘oomph’ from his teeth-bitten lips, already starting a steady rhythm, humping into your cunt, letting your legs pull him in over and over. God, you mewl, chin tilted up to the night sky, hands clawing into his hair, fingers squeezing at the swell of his shoulder, doing your very best to pull him closer. It's impossible and yet? He craves it, needs to be pressed into you in every way possible, lapping at your tongue, fucking snappy thrusts into your creamy cunt.
He pulls back to see you, shining in that bath of moonlight, dark and lathered in sweet mystery at the luna’s kiss, the lake water pooling around your hips shining bright with those twinkles of light, lapping at your skin with each rolling thrust of his hips.
“Fuck..” More, More- Needs to see more.
His gritty sand groaned dirt covered hands pry at your legs, pressing rough grains into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, pressing you down into the water- The sweetest mating press one ever could muster - Legs spread nice and wide for him, pinned and stinging with the grit of dirt, knees rocking in tandem with each snap of his hips. Don’t get him started on the noises. Mewly moans and chanting babbles of his name dribbling from your lips, the squelchy sweetness of your cunt paired with the repetitive ripple of water following his every thrust. Skin splashes together, sprays of dribbling droplets coming off of the connection, bodies clapping together with a vulgar ‘plap, plap, plap.’
“Ahh.. hmmn~ S-Seb-!” You writhe and moan, squirming against the sandy bank, one hand gripped desperately at one of his wrists holding pressure into your spread legs, grounding yourself with him. The other messes with your clit, rolling the bud between your fingers, circling the sweet thing with the flat of your fingertips all while his hips smush into your knuckles with every grinding roll.
Sebastian’s palms slide up, hooking under your knees, into the soft underside connecting the joint, grinding your poor skin into the pebbly lake floor. He mounts himself on you, fucking feverishly into your cunt, hips moving down with obnoxious claps, splashy water perpetuating the noise- He stuffs his face into your neck, lips and teeth back on your skin, sinking down into the supple flesh while his cock dares to throb.
Closer and closer- Feeling a build up in the depths of his gut, veins gushing warm blood into the tip of his cock with a hot flex, threatening to spill and burst-
“Cumming-! S..Sebastian! Ohhh Baby please- please!” You beat him to it, crying out for him so sweetly like that, sobby sounds cutting through the splash of water rippling with his fucks, fingers tightening on his wrist, speeding up against the bead of your cunt.
“That's it- Cum f’me.. Gonna be right there, Princess- Fuckk take me there-” His throat growls out a deep groan, teeth grit while he keeps up those praises, sweet talking you through the brunt of your orgasm, laughing a huffy, arousal tainted chuckle all light from his chest when you cream. Sweet and squeezy, velvety walls massaging the length of his cock as you cum, pussy suckling him in, inviting the hot pulse of his own orgasm with a loving hug.
His hips snap in sharp staccatos, throat stuck in a perpetual growl with each lingering fuck as he spurts. He creams into you, hot and ropey filling up the depths of your sweetness, milked off by your squeezing. His eyes dare to roll, jaw going slack with sloppy, hasteful kisses, voice box betraying him with shameless praises and confessions, accidental “I fuckin love you’s” gasped into the skin of your neck.
He gifts you a final grind, rocking his hips in small motions, working you through the comedown, handsy palms opting to pet and soothe at your thighs, tickling the skin from the inner depths of your bikini line all the way up to the knee. He helps your poor legs wrap back around him, nice and comfy while he comes down to knock his forehead into your own, resting his weight on his forearms, trapping you into your own little bubble. Away from the moon, hot breaths huffing in the space, crickets entering Sebastian’s ears once more, the surrounding atmosphere gracing its presence in his mind once again.
He swallows thick, breathing hard, nuzzling his nose before pulling away just enough to see you.
“Hi..” It's all soft giggles of disbelief from there.
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some soft Sebby today <3
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