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#and i don't want to deal with that right now
golden-cherry · 2 days
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deal - cl16 (28/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: Your pillow is comfortable - just like Charles' lap.
Warnings: 18+ (dry humping, mentions of sex), fluff, tiny bit of angst, Lando is a little shit
Word Count: 4.5k
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A/N: since you were all so patient with me - you deserve this. I hope you're sat, because y/n definitely is. feedback is appreciated!
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"Good morning, mon amour," Charles whispers softly in your ear before you feel a faint puff of air against your cheek. Something soft and warm presses gently against your temple. "It's still quite early. You can go back to sleep if you want to." He rests his chin on your shoulder and you feel his chest against your back. "I'd like to go jogging, if that's okay with you."
Sleepy - and confused - you snuggle further into your comfy pillow. It's still dark in the room, but through the window you can already see the horizon changing color and announcing a new day. You yawn tiredly and close your eyes again. "You're waking me up to tell me you're going jogging? Are you crazy? Couldn't you have just written me a note or a text?"
Charles exhales through his nose. "I'm sorry, chérie. There was no other way. I have an appointment with my trainer and I'm already late." He gently puts his hand on your bare hip, where the shirt has ridden up and exposed a sliver of your skin. "All you have to do is let go of my arm and then I'll be gone and you can go back to sleep."
Your pillow moves almost imperceptibly beneath you and you raise your head to examine it, puzzled. You realize that you have been lying on Charles' arm and your hand has found its place on his forearm. You suppress a smile as you lie back down and press your cheek into the soft inside of his upper arm. "Nope. Unfortunately not possible. I'm afraid your arm is too comfortable for me to let you go right now."
Charles's fingers press a little harder into your hip, but his arm stays in place. "I won't be long. I promise." 
Drowsy and not fully conscious, you turn in his arms and lift your leg, only to wrap it around his waist and press yourself against him. The tip of your nose touches his bare chest. "You said yesterday that we would continue to share a bed so that I could sleep better. So you have no choice but to stay here with me." As you absentmindedly kiss his chest and press your hip against yours, you feel warm.
Charles laughs softly, but doesn't disagree with you. Instead, his arms wrap around you a little tighter. The hand that was on your hip a moment ago slides up your spine under your shirt. His fingertips dance over your warm skin until his hand rests gently on the nape of your neck, where it lingers lightly. "As far back as I can remember, I said I'd hold you in my arms if it meant you'd sleep better."
You gently lift your head from his chest so that you can look at him. Charles' eyes are closed, but a slight smile pulls the corners of his mouth upwards. "You do realize that you're digging yourself in deeper, don't you?"
He slowly opens his eyes and looks down at you. Without hesitation, he rolls you onto your back. You feel his weight on top of you as his hand disappears from your neck and rests against your thigh, keeping your leg wrapped around his waist. "How silly. Looks like I've lost now." 
His weight on you, his warm breath on your face and his fingertips disappearing under the hem of your shorts cloud your thoughts. You look at him from under your eyelashes and have to swallow as his gaze darts from your eyes to your mouth and back up again. "How silly."
He opens his mouth slightly and he's so close to you that you can make out the different shades of green in his irises despite the darkness. His beard shades his beautiful face and you want to rub your cheek against it. Or feel the stubble on your thighs. Or - 
Charles leans so far down towards you that the tips of your noses touch. As he licks his lips, you think you can feel his tongue on your mouth. But maybe you're just too tired and imagining it. "I'd love to stay in this bed with you forever," Charles whispers, and as his fingers slide a little higher under your shorts, almost touching the curve of your ass, you involuntarily arch up towards him. Just as you think you can feel the hardness of his abdomen, he pushes himself off the bed with his other hand and pulls away. "But I really need to go jogging." A brief moment later, he stands in front of the bed and scratches the back of his neck. "I thought I might go grocery shopping afterwards. Just text me if you think of anything else you might need." 
Distracted by the warmth in your lower belly, you stare at him as he slips into the sports shorts you were wearing yesterday morning. His smell clings to you and you can't think straight as he sits down on the edge of the bed to pull white tennis socks over his feet. You push the covers off you and crawl across the bed to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Your hands rest on his warm chest. "You're mean, Charles." You brush a kiss on the soft skin under his ear and can feel his heart skip a beat.
He pauses in his movement. "You haven't called me that in days." He tilts his head a little so he can look at you. 
Puzzled, you return his gaze. "What do you mean? I always call you Charles."
Slowly, his fingers wrap around your wrists so that he can wriggle out of your embrace. But only so that his arm can wrap around your waist and he can pull you onto his lap. As you sit astride his thighs, he cups your chin with his thumb and forefinger so you have no choice but to look at him. 
He shakes his head slightly. "You called me Charles. English pronunciation. You've been calling me Charles since we had dinner with the others the other night."
You raise an eyebrow and squirm on his legs under his unyielding gaze. "And what did I call you now?"
"Sharl. French pronunciation." A glint sparkles in his eyes. 
"Is that good? Or bad?" you ask unknowingly and innocently, running your fingers through the short hair on the back of his neck. 
"What do you think?" His voice is no more than a whisper as his other arm wraps around your back and pulls you completely onto his lap so that you can barely move. Once again, his fingers slip just below the hem of your pajama shorts, fingertips almost digging into your flesh as he presses your crotch against his noticeable bulge. So hard that you might end up with bruises on your hips. But you don't care. You gasp in response. "Do I like this or not?"
The warmth that was previously spread throughout your body moves south, and you feel your arousal pooling in your shorts. The word friendship flashes faintly in your mind, but as Charles gently but firmly moves you over his hard-on and a low moan escapes his throat, you can't help but block it out completely. 
"Charles," you almost whine as you rock your hips back and forth without a thought and the tip of his brief-clad cock nudges against your clit. Electricity flashes through your veins and your skin burns where Charles touches you and you close your eyes, flushed with pleasure. 
"Nuh-uh." Charles's hand moves from your chin to the column of your throat and rests just at the base of your neck. "Look at me, mon amour." His voice is deep and smoky as he makes you look into his eyes. Through half-opened eyes and with his mouth open, he grinds you over his boner, his breath stumbling and warming your face as you can do nothing but surrender to the sensation. 
Never in your life have you desired someone as much as Charles. Charles, exhaling as if relieved that he can release some tension, while your fingers dig into his shoulder blades to make sure he doesn't stop. The hem of your pyjamas and his boxer shorts rub so deliciously against your bundle of nerves and you moan shamelessly as the gorgeous man beneath you bites his lower lip, wishing it was yours he was nibbling on. 
"Charles, please," you beg, even though you don't know what for. You want his fingers on your throat, his mouth on yours. You want to feel how soft his lips are as he slides his cock home until you fall apart on him. You want to hear him say how good you feel, how much he desires you and that he lo-
"Fuck," Charles snaps you out of your thoughts, and before you can realize it, he releases his arm from your body and leans to the side, where his phone is on the edge of the bed, ringing. 
When you see the panic in his eyes, you quickly slide off his lap and cover yourself with the blanket again. All of a sudden you feel vulnerable and naked, even though you're still wearing the shirt and shorts. You interlace your fingers in your lap. 
"I'm sorry, Andrea." Charles tucks his cell phone between his ear and shoulder as he slips on the turquoise Puma shirt you were wearing yesterday morning. He lifts the hem once and smells it, and for a brief moment his eyes flicker to you before he hurries out of the room, leaving you alone in the bedroom. You hear him continuing to talk in the hallway.
Startled and a little repulsed, you sit on the bed. How did you let it get this far? Charles is your best friend - a fact you told Joris and which was later confirmed to you in person by your roommate. 
So why did you just fall over each other like teenagers who can't keep their hands off each other when no one is looking? Why did you allow yourselves to dry hump each other when you are nothing more than friends? Why did everything Charles did and said turn you on so much that the inside of your thighs are sticky with your arousal? And why did it feel so damn right?
You run your hand through your tousled hair. You've never felt anything like you have in the last few minutes. You've never desired someone as much as the man whose touch made you turn to putty in his hands. As if your brain had been switched off, you gave yourself to him without thinking about what the consequences might be. 
What would happen now? Would Charles still talk to you? Would you talk about it? Would it happen again? 
Before you can think about it any more, Charles enters the bedroom again. His feet are now in sneakers and he has put on a jacket over his shirt. When he sees you sitting at the head of the bed, the comforter thrown over you and with big, worried eyes, his gaze softens. He crosses the room in three steps and sits on the edge of the bed with you before reaching for yours with one hand and intertwining your fingers. 
"We're okay, aren't we?" he asks gently, lifting your chin with his free hand as you try to avoid his gaze. When you look at him, the sparkle from a moment ago is still there. "I - I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let it get this far. We're friends and the last thing I want is to lose you over this." He almost stumbles over his words when you don't say anything back. "We're still friends, aren't we?" You can see tears gathering on the line of his eyelashes. 
You are so relieved that you want to hug him. You smile at him. "Of course we're friends, Charles. Best friends," you assure him, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. "There's nothing that could change that."
The man in front of you blinks away the tears and returns your smile before squeezing your hand twice. "I really have to go now. Like I said, if you need anything from the supermarket, please text me. Then I can pick it up for you." He releases his hand from yours and stands up from the bed. "See you later." He leans forward a tiny bit and you can practically see the gears in his brain turning until he merely smiles at you and then disappears. As the apartment door slams shut behind him, you exhale. 
Everything's fine between you, you tell yourself as you unplug your phone from the charger and glance at the clock. 9:30 am. You could go back to bed and sleep, but as you lay your head on the pillow, the smell of last night's smoke creeps into your nose. The whole bed smells like a campfire, and your skin and hair smell like you've been wallowing in ashes, so you decide to wash the sheets and jump in the shower. 
The washing machine makes a gentle whirring sound as you switch it on and then head to the fridge to prepare yourself a little breakfast. However, when you realize that there is nothing in the fridge that would be suitable, you hang your head in resignation. Apparently, the ingredients Charles used for the pancakes yesterday were the very last leftovers, so the fridge is empty apart from a pickle jar and a few bottles of water. 
Without further ado, you shoot Charles a text to ask him to bring something for breakfast before you gather your bathroom utensils from your suitcase in the bedroom, undress in the bathroom and set the water in the shower to the right temperature. Since you have some time before Charles returns from his jog and the supermarket, you take all the time in the world. You shampoo your hair and rinse it thoroughly before leaving a generous amount of conditioner in your hair. Meanwhile, you exfoliate your body, shave carefully - and actually manage not to cut your knuckles. The lavender and vanilla shower gel soothes your frayed nerves, while you keep telling yourself that everything is fine between you and Charles, like you talked about. 
You banish the feeling that his every touch felt good and right to the back of your mind and as you turn off the water and wrap yourself in a soft towel, it's almost as if nothing ever happened between you. 
You focus on the fact that you have to look good today, because you are invited to Charles' mother's for dinner later, so you spend a lot of time taming your hair and picking out a nice outfit. You decide on a pair of dark jeans and a light blouse and button up the last button as your cell phone beeps on the kitchen island. 
Charles: No problem. I think I'll be home in an hour. It'll be too late for a proper breakfast then, but how about some fruit and yogurt?
And indeed. It's now just after 12 o'clock and the washing machine seems to be doing its last spin cycle, because its humming gets louder before it goes quiet and only beeps a few times. You quickly put the wet bed sheets in the dryer before answering Charles.
You: You're the best. See you soon.
While you wait for your roommate to come home, you rummage through the things Kika picked out yesterday and scatter them around the apartment. You put the fake plants on the windowsill in your room and place a vase on the worktop in the kitchen. Then grab some picture frames and stand in the hallway to find out which places on the wall are suitable for which frame. Charles is sure to have enough beautiful photos from all over the world to decorate your home, because unfortunately you don't yet have any pictures together that you could hang on the wall. But that's okay. After all, you've only been friends for a few days. 
When the front door opens a short time later, two men are standing opposite you, one of whom - thank God - is Charles. When he sees you, a smile spreads across his face. 
"We've done some shopping," he explains, lifting the bags he's holding in his hands. Then he looks at the man next to him. "This is Andrea, by the way, my personal trainer and close friend." He walks towards you and briefly looks you up and down. "You look good," he says casually as he walks past you and glances over his shoulder. "Come on, Andrea. The stuff needs to go in the fridge. 
"Don't stress me out like that," the man in front of you replies, rolling his eyes in an annoyed manner. "I'm Andrea, nice to meet you." He places one of his bags on the floor before holding out his hand to you. 
You introduce yourself to him too and shake his hand. " Likewise. I wasn't expecting you to bring half the supermarket with you," you joke, reaching for the bag he's put down before you both head towards the kitchen. 
"Me neither," Andrea replies, shrugging her shoulders. "Charles insisted because he didn't want you to want for anything. Now that you live here too."
"Andrea," Charles warns his friend as he puts the milk and eggs in the fridge. 
"Don't play pretend," he defends himself and puts his bag down on the worktop. "I'm just repeating what you said." He takes your plastic bag from you and puts it on the worktop too. "I'll leave you two alone then. After all, you've got a lot to do today." He turns in your direction and smiles at you before planting a kiss on your cheek left and right. "It was nice meeting you, but I'm afraid I have to go. But I'm sure we'll be seeing more of each other."
"I guess so."
He nods briefly, turning to your roommate. "And you let me know about the trip. Then I can arrange everything."
Charles, who is putting food in the fridge with a concentration as if he were taking part in a Tetris competition, waves his hand once in the direction of his trainer. "I will. Ciao!"
Andrea leaves your apartment as quickly as he had arrived, and as the door slams shut behind him, you turn to your friend. "A trip? Where are you off to?"
"I have to go through a training camp to prepare for next season. But I'll tell you about that later." After he's put everything away neatly, he closes the fridge and turns in your direction. "I've just spoken to my mother on the phone. Dinner will be around seven, but we can come over before that, before my brothers show up, if you don't mind." He grabs a glass from the cupboard and pours himself some water before taking a big gulp. "So I'd just jump in the shower and get ready. And then we can go as soon as you're ready."
You smile at him. "All right. Do you still want to eat something small? Then I could cut up some fruit and prepare some yoghurt if you like," you offer. 
He nods thankfully to you before pulling his shirt over his back and off his upper body in one fluid motion. The workout has made his muscles look even more defined than usual. Not that you waste much time staring at his naked torso. 
"That would be nice. I'll just jump in the shower," he says before disappearing into the bathroom. As he turns on the shower, you hear the water hitting the floor. 
You're a little surprised that your little session doesn't seem to be having any effect. The worries you had that the atmosphere between you might now be strained fizzle out and the only thing that remains is the bitter aftertaste that Charles doesn't seem to be bothered by the fact that you were dry humping as friends and there was a possibility that your friendship had come to an end. 
Does it really not affect him that you were both playing with fire a few hours ago? Or is he just good at covering it up and acting as if nothing had happened?
But when you remember how upset he was sitting next to you on the bed afterwards, with tears in his eyes for fear of losing you as a friend, the negative thoughts disappear from your mind. He probably wants to put the whole thing behind him because it would really bother him if you were no longer friends. 
And since you feel the same way, you cut up some fruit without giving it a second thought until your cell phone, which is lying on the kitchen island in front of you, vibrates. An incoming Facetime call from - Lando? 
Why is he calling you? And especially on Facetime? Has something happened to him? Does he need help?
You quickly put the knife aside and wipe your hands on a kitchen towel before answering the call. When the British man's face appears on your screen, you breathe a sigh of relief. He's apparently lying on the couch at home, the hood of his hoodie pulled up over his curls and a broad grin adorning his face. 
"Hi, Lando," you greet him and lean your phone against the vase so that you can continue preparing the fruit. "What can I do for you?"
"Is Charles with you?" he asks as you turn around and take two bowls from the cupboard behind you to divide the fruit halfway between them. 
"He's in the shower," you reply, tilting your head. " Why? Did something happen?"
"No, everything's fine," he says and smiles. "I was just trying to reach him on his cell phone. But when he is taking a shower, it's obvious that he won't answer." 
"'Who's not answering?" you hear Charles say as he leaves the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Single drops of water snake across his chest and down the ridges of his abs before disappearing into the fabric of the towel, which hangs quite low on his hips. You have to swallow briefly and just point at your cell phone. When Charles comes into Lando's field of vision, he nods briefly. "Sorry, I was in the shower. Have you tried to call me?"
Lando, blinking silently at the camera, nods. "Uh, yeah. I wanted to invite you both to a party. After Christmas." He struggles to suppress a smile, and even though the screen is so small, you can see his gaze jump from Charles to you. "My friend Martin is coming here to DJ at a club. If you're up for it, you're both welcome to come."
Charles, who is standing to the side behind you, rests his chin on your shoulder. After this morning, you didn't expect to find Charles back in your personal space so quickly. Whether he realizes you're holding your breath, you don't know. "I don't see what's wrong with that, do you?" The question is directed at you. As you shake your head weakly, your roommate smiles at the camera and puts his hand on your hip. "Then we're definitely in." Suddenly, you feel Charles' lips on your temple as he presses a gentle kiss to your skin. "I'm just going to get ready." With that, he disappears from Lando's sight and, as he enters your bedroom, from yours too.
The way Lando's eyes widen briefly doesn't escape you. "Great. Then I'll put you on the guest list and send you the details." As your gaze shifts from your room back to the Brit, Lando looks back at you with a grin that almost reaches his ears. 
"Lando," you warn him in the same tone Charles just used with Andrea. "Leave it alone."
"I didn't say anything," he defends himself, but the grin doesn't disappear from his face. You'd love to wipe it off his cheek. "So, are you two - ?"
You roll your eyes. "We're friends, Lando. Nothing more, nothing less," you explain to him, but you seem to be falling on deaf ears, because the Brit doesn't seem to believe a word you're saying. 
"Friends with benefits? Or why did Charles just behave like that?"
"What do you mean, like that?" you ask him, tilting your head in confusion. To keep your hands busy, you fill the bowls of fruit with yogurt and add some sweetener before stirring everything. 
"So possessive. So jealous," he explains, as if it's no big deal. Which it certainly wouldn't have been if it hadn't been for this morning's action. 
"You don't know what you're talking about," you retort snappishly, your mouth forming a thin line. "Sorry, that's not what I meant."
"It's all cool. But if you get married, I'll be the guest of honor as matchmaker," he replies, before holding his phone close to his face and grinning broadly at the camera. "And then I'll give a speech about how stupid you both were at the beginning because you didn't want to admit that you were meant to be together."
When you hear Charles' footsteps in the hallway, you quickly reach for your cell phone. "Lando."
"I'm just saying, friends don't look at each other the way you look at him. And that friends don't act as possessive as he does." He raises his free hand, puts his thumb and forefinger together before pulling it over his mouth and pretending to seal his lips with it. "I'm not saying anything more about it."
"Who says no more to what?" Charles asks as he enters the kitchen. 
"Nobody to anything anymore. Bye, Lando," you quickly say goodbye and end the Facetime call, knowing full well that you're sure to get a few more messages from the Brit lovingly mocking you. 
"Oh-kay." Charles sits down opposite you at the kitchen islands and grabs one of the yogurt bowls. You watch him as he shoves spoonful after spoonful into his mouth. "Everything all right?"
"Everything's fine," you reply with a sugary smile and start spooning up your yoghurt too. "I'm just nervous about meeting your mom. I hope she'll like me," you try to change the subject. 
"She definitely will," your flatmate tries to reassure you. "Just be yourself and then she'll love you. And so will my brothers." He reaches across the worktop for your hand and squeezes it twice. "Loving you is easier than you might think."
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risuola · 3 days
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F. READER X SUKUNA RYOMEN // After Sukuna finally got a human body, his power was taken away and sealed within you.
cw: Sukuna is separated from Yuji and has his own body (not the heian form tho!), smut, mentions of hurt and violence, some blood and execution mentioned, reader discretion is advised — 7,3k words
a/n: ok so i've been meaning to finish this wip for so long and as i opened the file i realized i don't like the way it's written and i rewrote all 11 pages in word and now it's hopefully finished so... enjoy the usual — hurt, comfort, angst-fluff dynamics and emotional constipation ♡
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“What do you want, curse?”
A long, deep sigh escaped your lungs as you reached for a towel to dry your body off. As you stepped out of a shower, last thing you expected to see was the King of Curses himself leaning nonchalantly against the tiled wall of your bathroom, eyeing you with the wicked smile on his face. How on brand. You didn’t expect him but saying that his sudden presence surprised you would be an overstatement. You learned to expect him anytime.
“Don’t ask silly questions,” he scoffed, narrowing his eyes that in the sharp lights of your ceiling lamp glistened in blood-red. All four of them were fixed on your damp frame, on your exhausted body. It wasn’t the best day to mess with him. Not that any other day was better to deal with the most cursed curse of all curses that ever existed — this one though was particularly inconvenient.
It wasn’t longer than maybe an hour since you got home, returning from a mission that Gojo had given you, entrusting your power to rid the world of a group of curses. They were exceptionally violent, first to special grade with no doubt and you did, in fact, manage to exorcise them all, but not without your body getting painfully battered.
“You know I cannot grant your wish, don’t you? I wouldn’t give you your powers even if the world was on fire and you were the last available option to save it.”
He scoffed, again, and smirked like the pure evil that he is. You approached slowly, reaching for the robe hanging beside him, hopeful to get this conversation over sooner rather than later, but before your fingers even had a chance of grasping the soft, silky fabric of the gown, Sukuna snatched your wrist. His long, calloused fingers wrapped tightly around your forearm and he twisted it, tugging and pulling, until your back hit the wall.
Trapped between the cold tiles and his muscular frame, you winced at the sudden wave of pain that struck your body. Your reaction time lacked as in matter of split seconds both of your wrists were pinned above your head, bound by only one of his large hands and you were helpless. So devastatingly, utterly helpless against the sheer force in front of you. Your bones were fragile as twigs in his iron grip, so easy to bend and break under the pressure of the power he held and you knew it from practice that he could and he would break them if he wished to do so.
“That little mouth of yours is gonna get you in big trouble one day,” he said, a sound as low as a purr, and a grin spread across his face, as he lowered his head enough to meet your eyes. His gaze, tinged with crimson and madness, pierced your soul and if you didn’t know better, you’d say your prayers right now because the face in front of you was a face of slow and cruel death.
“I bet I can manage the trouble that is you. I appreciate the care,” you were calm, sounded calm, despite the rushing rumble of your heart against the ribcage in your chest. You were nonchalant, ignorant even, most likely very naïve and dumb, but you knew that what would be a certain demise to anyone else, for you it just wasn’t.
Born into a family of ordinary people, you were different. Gifted with the sight that allowed you to notice what was invisible to the eyes of others — the spirits. Curses. The ability formed your life, led you onto a path which eventually crossed with the man you only heard legends about. Satoru Gojo had taken you under his wing, showed you the world of jujutsu and allowed you to be yourself when everyone else wanted you to just act normal. But you were a special one. You were gifted, no, you were heavily and deeply tainted with something you couldn’t understand. Something even he couldn’t understand. There was no rank for you. No label that could be tied to your name. You were just different, with the exceptional physical fitness and peculiar, precise control over the cursed energy, you easily passed all of the tests and challenges. But your powers are dark. They are heavy, suffocating, they made other people fear you despite the kindness that showed through your warm personality.  
“I hate it when you talk down to me,” Sukuna growled. His low voice died down when he slowly pressed his lips to yours, greedily taking your breath away as his hand swiftly removed the towel from your body. A shiver ran down your spine, the sudden contact with the cold ceramics behind you made you jolt forward, involuntarily pressing your body against the wall of muscle. Ryomen’s clothed torso provided more comfort than the bone-chilling tiles. You felt him smirk against your mouth.
When Sukuna separated from Itadori’s body, materializing in his own form and threatening the entire universe with his existence and unsatiable thirst for blood and destruction, Satoru, along with some other people that you didn’t know, acted immediately. It was a sacrifice to pick you for the new vessel, it was a decision made in a rush and you’d have to think twice before agreeing to it again if you ever had a chance. Your technique allowed you to store someone else’s cursed energy so it was an easy choice for everyone involved.
The King of Curses got stripped of most of his power when he was barely awakened in his own body, and said power was then transferred to yours. Sealed inside your fragile human frame, nearly destroying you from inside out with the initial shock wave. Since that day you had to learn and accept to live with constant pain, the never-ending suffering, because locking away Sukuna’s evil was much more important than your well-being.
You were told that it’s different than what Itadori was to the king. The curse created a space for itself inside Yuji’s soul, keeping his own powers contained to only himself and you — you had his cursed energy constantly, unstoppably racing through your body, poisoning your veins with every pump of your heart and it hurt. It burned like a hellfire was spreading throughout your circulatory system and since that day, your life had become a curse itself. Your sleep has gotten worse, you were tired and for the first few weeks you were barely able to move. It felt like the cells were tearing themselves apart inside you, like everything was in a state of never-ending volcanic eruption. It was agonizing, torturous. You felt like dying. Every day. Luckily, Ieiri was able to develop a medicine that taken every day, calmed everything down enough to make it bearable.  
You got used to it, as the year passed by, but what you also had to get used to, was the owner. Ryomen Sukuna visited you so often that he partially lived in your apartment, patiently torturing you with his presence until you gave him what he was rightfully entitled to. He didn’t even consider covering a part of your rent, asshole. He couldn’t kill you — your death would take all of his powers down to your grave with you — but it didn’t stop him from trying his luck with everything that wasn’t enough to take your life.
You remember the first attempts, the first showcases of his annoyance. It was a shame, it was pathetic to Sukuna and he felt humiliated to get caught in such a simple trick, to allow himself to not have his guard up from the very first breath he took once he separated from the brat. All of that pent up anger, he threw on you and the many trials of violence and brutality had taught him that your tolerance for pain was high. And you fought back. Over time, and after many weeks you spent inside the hospital bed underneath the precise care of Shoko, Sukuna had realized that no amount of beating and torture will force you into obedience — as annoying as the realization was — so he changed his ways and switched to haunting you. Taunting you with his constant presence. Able to enter your apartment at any given moment, the curse made sure you were never too comfortable in your own home. You grew to live with that too.
“Hurts?” Sukuna grinned, watching the wince that twisted your otherwise attractive features the very moment his fingers dug into your side. With sadistic pleasure he studied the way your brows creased and your eyes fell shut. The rumble of your heart was evident in the silence of the bathroom and even more evident were the very palpable fractures of your ribs underneath his palms. “Want me to stop?” He mused, griping the injury tighter and the cruel wave of pain almost knocked the air out of your lungs.
“You are charming as always, curse,” you scoffed, forcing some oxygen into your system and cussing yourself internally for showing the pain, for giving him the clearest indication of your weakened state. For giving him something to use against you. “It hurts, yes. I’ve had a rough day, I’d like to rest.”
“Then I will take you to bed,” he let go of both your hands and ribs, scooping you up and carrying you towards the bedroom. Your bare body seemed tiny against the tall, muscular built of him. Too fragile to be so stubborn and blame it on said fragility, but Sukuna out of habit put you down onto the plush sheets with gentleness so uncharacteristic of him.
“You know I can’t give you what you want,” you looked at him, your gaze portraying the tiniest sliver of hope that finally he’ll understand and give up, but giving up wasn’t a phrase present in king’s vocabulary. He’d rather die than let go and both of you knew it. “I’m sure you can tell I’m exhausted, but if you make me, I will fight.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, woman,” he grinned, allowing his two pairs of eyes to run down your naked body, silently admiring the petite frame that was capable of holding all of his strength. “I wouldn’t force you to fight when you’re already so beaten. What do you think I am, a monster?”
“Not a monster. You’re a curse, which is worse.” A shrug of your shoulders sent a jolt of pain throughout your body and it took everything from you to not wince in front of him again. You reached for a t-shirt you use to sleep in — a garment stolen from Itadori, big enough to almost be a dress, comfortable cotton that wrapped you with softness and warmth. Sukuna knows your body. He’s seen it naked, touched and tasted it many times and the piercing gaze of all four of his eyes on your skin was something you grew to accept, but you wanted to get dressed anyway. Sukuna was never a gentle lover and your broken ribcage wouldn’t take his roughness too well.
"It sounds so lovely in your mouth," he chuckled, taking the blouse from your hands and tossing it carelessly away. "Who said you can dress up?"
"Who said you can give me orders?"
"Am I not the king?"
"Of curses, yes. I'm not a curse, your jurisdiction does not apply to me."
“Gods, you need to shut up.”
There was only one thing Sukuna grew to enjoy a sliver bit more than torturing you and that was having sex — though he dismayed the thought of such primal pleasures taking over his urges. It felt foreign at first, as if his own body tried to betray him by showing interest in a simple, unworthy human just as you, but he was able to reason it within his own, conflicted mind. Intimacy created a leak. A leak of his own power seeping through you, an unknown weakening of your defenses and Sukuna was able to, quite literally, fuck his powers out of you, absorb it back into his own form, feel more like himself for just a little moment.
Other thing is — and he hated it the most — that he genuinely enjoyed the time in bed with you. It was pleasurable, too pleasurable almost and Ryomen actively dismissed the idea of you stripping him off his cold judgement, the clarity of his thoughts, but he loved it also. Every soft whimper and whisper of his name that ever slipped through your lips made his ego grow, made him want more and although he hated the seal, he admired the shell you wore around your soul and if there was ever anyone he wished to be intimate with, it was you. You held his power in the body he was able to touch, to taste, to have, and over time Sukuna grew to respect it, in his own twisted way. Over hundreds of years he’s been around, he had seen people brave — or stupid — enough to try and contain his power, to ingest one of the cursed objects his soul was fragmented into and then, he watched them die in pain and suffering just from a small fraction of it. You were able to hold it, agony or not.
You, on the other hand, had no clue what exactly was causing the seal to leak, you couldn’t tell why was it happening when he was inside you and not when he was trying to beat the life out of you. Why breaking your bones never let a drop of his energy to slip from under your control and the intimacy made you lose it just like that? You couldn’t tell, but just the fact that Sukuna’s able to regain any amount of his legacy through intercourse should be enough of a reason to never, ever let him touch you, but oh well. Elders didn’t like you anyway and the cursed energy released was so insignificant it wouldn’t really cause much trouble — that’s at least how you reasoned with yourself. Sometimes you wondered if the small boost was even worth all the trouble for the king, but it wasn’t hard to notice he was clearly enjoying just being close to you.
“Oh, do I?” You questioned him; dared, and he took you on a challenge, pressing his lips to yours. You whimpered and pressed your open palms to his clothed chest when he climbed on top of you, hovering above your much smaller frame and allowing his shadow and evil aura to swallow you and you flinched. Your senses, however trained, were always on high alert when he was so close. It was reflexive, a first response that screamed, begged, to get away from him, to run and don’t look back but you had to learn pushing it down. It’s been only few weeks since you managed to fix and patch up the hole his fist once made in one of your walls and putting up a fight right now would certainly damage your apartment yet again. Not to speak about yourself.
“You never know when to shut up,” he purred against your lips and moved, following the edges of your jawline and down your neck, spreading wet bites and marks along your delicate skin there.
“Sukuna, please, not today,” you whimpered, pleading and gasping just slightly, feeling his long, calloused fingers already finding their place between your thighs, teasing the awaiting bud of joy and pleasure that, unlike you, was very excited for the events unraveling.
“Why not?” He asked, letting go the sensitive skin right above your pulse and admiring the reddish, swollen patch he left there. “You’re so wet, I cannot ignore it.” You could feel his grin against your shoulder, hear it in the mocking yet proud tone of his voice because he was proud of himself. He knew how to push your buttons, which ones to push first and how to navigate his lips and fingers across your curves and hollows to make the most out of it because truth is, ever since he got his own human-like body, he was able to appreciate physical pleasures that before that, he couldn’t care less about. “Aren’t you ashamed? A sorcerer, spreading your legs for the king of curses? Moaning my name instead of spells, digging your nails into my skin instead of knives?”
“Aren’t you ashamed? The King of Curses himself, getting so hard and worked up for a simple human?” You replied with a mock underlying in your tone and he laughed.
“Didn’t I already tell you to shut up?”
“You did,” you confirmed, nodding and pulling his blouse up, forcing him to undress and he complied. His covered in black markings skin, stretched over a strong musculature never failed to make you gasp in awe. Sukuna is an attractive man, slightly reminiscing you of Itadori due to him being the last of his hosts, but also completely different. The aura is different, the height and body shape. There’s nothing of Yuji’s kindhearted, warm nature — Ryomen is a menace. His eyes are narrowed, knowing, proud. He’s arrogant, he’s full of himself, he’s spiteful and uncaring and sometimes you wondered how he managed to coexist with the society for a year now, with his temper so cold and obnoxious.
“So behave,” he smirked, pushing your knees apart and slipping two of his thick fingers inside you. He worked them easily through the slick, warm entrance and stretched you with slow movements. A brief attempt of foreplay, careless towards the discomfort his hands managed to cause you, but he loved it — he loved to feel how wet you could get for him, he loved to see you all worked up, blushed and flushed, squirming underneath his very touch. “Behave or it’ll hurt more than necessary.”
“It’s going to hurt anyway, there’s no way around it,” you breathed out, your tone quite blank as you tried to brace yourself to feel every broken bone in your ribcage. Truth is that breathing was causing you problems and you were actively pushing the petrifying thought of rough sex deep down your thoughts. “I’m not good at behaving.”
“Hard to disagree,” the curse chuckled, running the tip of his tongue along the length of your neck and it took him a second to replace his soaked-up digits with his rock-hard member. Low, animalistic and gravelly purr escaped his throat, as his length got into the tight embrace of muscles inside you. A velvety warmth mixed with sharp, stinging feeling of your nails digging into the skin of his back made his mind go blank for a moment. You run your fingers across his body, adding new marks to the constellation of his own and he took in the way your breath hitched in your chest, the soft thud of your heart that he felt underneath his lips as he kissed your neck, nipping and sucking spots onto the otherwise clean surface. Hot waves of euphoria rushed through him, adrenaline pumped inside his veins and were it not for your injuries, he would be pounding into you relentlessly by now, pushing you above and beyond your limits, mercilessly taking your breath away time after time, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head and basking in the exhilarating feeling of you taking him in. If not for the bones that he so clearly can feel beneath his fingertips, the fractures sharp against your skin over your ribcage, he would be relentlessly rushing towards orgasm and ecstasy. This time, he refrained. This time, he decided to be curious, to see how the softness you always tell him about tastes on his own tongue.
Sukuna’s movements were slow, odd but deep and heavy. Every nerve, every sensitive spot in your entire body was hit and abused again and again and again. His lips kept gluing themselves to your mouth, your neck, shoulders. He was kissing your chest, nipping at your skin, making you heave, and moan, and whimper. He was taking you all in, observing, listening, savoring and it didn’t take long for the heat to pool below your stomach. A coil of tight pleasure, a knot begging to snap open and undo itself. The man was all over you, his hips worked in a rhythmical melody that’s got you lose your focus, your train of thoughts. It cleared your mind — a blank space that now was filled only with him and the intense, addicting way his hips moved.
You trembled.
Your thighs were shaking, your breath cut short.
You’ve had your fair share of intercourses with the King of Curses — each of them pleasurable in its own way. He has his ways of exhausting you, of pushing your limits, overstimulating you. He experimented, dominated and forced you into submission one way or another. Sukuna is no stranger to pain and violence and throughout the year you’ve got to know all colors of his palette but nothing, not once, resembled the tenderness he showed you this time.
“Suku–ahh—” you panted, cried out, gripping his biceps tightly.
“That’s right, let it out,” he grinned, demanded and moved his hips with more precision, just a little more force to hit that one spot he knew does it for you and it stole a breath from you. Your back arched, despite the broken bones, your head went blank as the groundbreaking wave of pleasure washed over you. The tight ring of muscles kept squeezing and contracting and Sukuna groaned along with you. He was leaking, his balls heavy and aching for release that he forcefully postponed, greedy to take more from you before he gives you any of his.
He pulled out, almost completely — a false promise of a breather — and then pushed back, fully, completely. His body moves more frantically, more rushed and yet, the compassion rushed in his veins, stripping the thrusts off their usual violence.
Odd. Addicting.
The first bliss was soon followed by two more and your third climax was his first. He became sloppier, hurried as he chased the sweet, sweet release and you tangled your fingers into his soft, blush-colored hair pulling him in and kissing his breath away. You couldn’t focus and nether could he. Nothing but the immense pleasure of the act, nothing before and nothing after, just here and now. Your body and his, in your apartment, in your bed. And when he came, he drew blood from your lower lip, catching it between his sharp fangs.
You let out a shaky breath, way more tired than before and yet, you smiled softly when Sukuna collapsed onto the bed beside you — the last bits of reason that made him shift his body to the side so that he wouldn’t put his weight on top of your fragile frame. He had this infuriating and oddly attractive smirk plastered onto his face and you knew he’s listening — to your calming breath and the harsh thuds of your heartbeat rumbling inside your chest.
Sukuna felt content. Utterly and completely satisfied and what’s got him surprised, he also felt his cells swell with power. The amount that leaked, due to unknown reasons, was incomparable to what he’s ever been able to absorb before. He couldn’t tell if it was your exhaustion, the wounds and damage your body was covered with or just the way he took you this time, but he knew for a fact that there was more. He also noticed that this time, unlike any other, he was completely abandoning the idea of cursed energy. It’s as if it entered his body on its own, without him actively taking it in, all while he was completely lost in the moments of pleasure, lost in you.
A grin on his face only got bigger, the feeling of might overwhelming him for a moment. He wanted to laugh, to scream, to destroy and kill. To feel like his old, superior self, to force his way through other people’s suffering. It felt ecstatic, to have a part of himself back, to feel the strength surging through him and—
—that’s until he looked at you again and he realized there was a scent of blood in the air. A metallic hint of something that was very wrong with you, something that he never thought he would miss since he loved to be surrounded by blood. But you were quiet about it. Breathing fast, with a hand pressed to your side and your eyebrows furrowed — a clear giveaway of the pain that slowly returned to you once the euphoric aftershocks wore off.
“You’re bleeding, huh?” He more so stated than asked, gathering himself up and gently, carefully slipping one of his arms underneath your knees and the other around your back. Once he lifted your worn off body, not without a quiet wince slipping from your mouth, the red, vibrant stain revealed itself from where you were resting. “That wound was there before, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, it was,” you replied, weakly, leaning the side of your head towards his flexing bicep and clenching your fingers around your fractured mid-section.
The shower, hot and steamy, wasn’t the most pleasant of all, but it did wonders to wash away the sticky residues from your thighs and the blood and sweat that mixed atop of your skin. Sukuna’s large hand pressed itself onto the wound, forcing it to stop bleeding — trying, at least.
“Why didn’t you heal it?”
“I didn’t have enough power to do so. I just barely managed to close it, and—” You trailed off, feeling dizzy. It was getting to you, ridding you of basic abilities to communicate and the king caught up immediately.
Water got turned off and he dried you quickly, superficially. You felt the towel being run over your limbs and pressed around your torso where the most damage was. Then he wrapped a bandage around you, tight and precise, hopeful to get the bleeding in control before he took you back under the sheets — with clean underwear on and after he flash-changed the sheets into clean ones.
Your battery was so low, you felt like you’re gonna pass out any moment.
“It was amazing,” you told him, once his weight dented the mattress and his body heat reached your cold skin. Usually, you wouldn’t feed into his ego, it was already way too big and swollen, but you figured he deserved to hear a praise after he restrained himself from fucking you to death.
“Rest,” he ordered, harsh and dry but he couldn’t hide the little smirk that tugged on the corner of his mouth. He acted like he didn’t care of what you just said, but he did, and he’ll remember it.
With hopes that sleep will solve your health issues, Sukuna watched as you drifted away and with deep dismay he noticed that the white bandages that hug your torso were slowly and steadily turning red. Your face was in a constant frown, you were visibly in pain and getting feverish, if he wasn’t mistaken, and he cursed his own self for caring about such things. You were a strong woman — despite all of his insults and cruel words he had told you during the past year — and he had never, not once, saw you in such a pathetic, vulnerable state but then, maybe if he stayed with you more often instead of leaving the moment he was done fucking his powers out of you, he would know better. Even so, you never complained and Sukuna isn’t stupid, he knows how much trouble his cursed energy causes you, how much pain and everyday agony you have to push through and yet, he never heard you whine about it.
King’s hands moved on their own, and when they touched your cold body, the healing process began. He watched the dark bruise around your ribcage fade into nothing and observed how the fractured bones underneath the skin moved and shifted into their original places. The blood stopped soaking the bandages and once rid of them, Ryomen watched how your skin knitted back together, leaving nothing but a pale, pinkish scar. Every last bit of his power he put into the reverse cursed technique to repair as much damage as he could. Then, with his arm around your waist, he fell asleep next to you.
* * *
Waking up to a man in your bed wasn’t exactly something you’re used to — even if said man is Ryomen Sukuna who’s an often guest between your sheets. He never stays because he never cares enough to stay, not to mention staying in a tight embrace. You found yourself snuggled close to his side, your head resting on his muscular chest while his arm was wrapped around you, making sure you’re not going anywhere. His hand was resting exactly where the pain should be and with shock you realized there’s nothing — no hurt, no bandages that you have a dull memory of being wrapped in.
You didn’t heal yourself. You were too tired.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Sukuna’s voice stopped you, when you made an attempt to pull yourself away from him. He sounded lower than usual, raspier and unsettlingly not evil.
“Why are you still here?” You asked, running your hand over the bumps of muscles on his abdomen. “I’m so confused. I’m not togging to complaint though.”
“You’d try, silly woman,” he grunted, amused and squeezed your side more securely. “What the hell did you do to me, huh?”
“I don’t know, but I appreciate the healing,” you teased.
“Don’t ever talk about it.”
Laughing, you forced a groan of annoyance out of him — the kind of groan that let you know you're treading on thin ice and one thoughtless move could break it, one word not thought through enough could make you fall into the pit of cold and ice.
"What, you want me to forget that the King of Curses used his hard-earned power to heal a mere sorcerer? Not a chance."
"If that mere sorcerer bleeds to death, my power will be gone as well. I had a reason for it."
"If you say so, Sukuna," still amused, you pulled away from his embrace and got up from the bed, nearly dodging a slap he aimed at your ass.
That morning, you had breakfast with the King of Curses, bringing this wonderful adventure with him to an unexpected end. Afterwards, he kissed your breath away and left you confused as ever.
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Several weeks had passed until Ryomen once again entered your field of view. Unfortunate.
You had a day off, enjoying it in a café with your friends, seeping carelessly on a latte with the almond milk and a dash of honey. It was a beautiful day, warm too, and you thought nothing would mess this up but life proved you wrong when the curse stormed in, steaming with rage and madness and — call it intuition — it was a dead giveaway of why he showed up.
“Such a great day, huhhh–“ you wailed quietly, lifting your cup from the table before his fist broke the wood in half. It wasn’t hard to notice how absolutely furious he was and it made you both curious and alarmed.
“Give. Me. Something.” The man growled lowly, frustrated and outraged and you couldn’t recall any time you ever saw him that infuriated.
“I can’t, you kno–“ you tried to tell him, but before you even got the full sentence out, he already had his fingers wrapped around your neck. A sharp sound of glass shattering accompanied the quiet yelp you let out as he yanked you up and slammed your back onto the nearest wall. You felt your feet losing their contact with the ground.
“Give me something.” He repeated, his voice so low and menacing that it sent shivers down your spine. It felt as if you were speaking with death. He was so close, you felt his uneven breath on your face, the crimson of his eyes seemed to glow. “Give me something or I’ll fuck you right here and now to get it.”
The rage in his eyes, the absolute storm of bloodlust, you wondered what has gotten him so worked up. King of Curses had a short temper, yes. He was often annoyed, angry, of course, but such fury wasn’t typical to his character and you knew that if you refuse right now, he will surely go through with the threat he made and you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. You’ll just get hurt.
“Put me down,” you tried, speaking calmly and wrapping your fingers around his forearm, hoping to give him a hint before your windpipe was fully crushed. Your heart was racing inside your chest, you heard the pulse in your ears, felt it in your head and neck. Fear wasn’t the most familiar feeling for you — you’ve grown accustomed to Sukuna’s violence, his tantrums and threats, his forceful ways of getting what he wanted and you also got to know him enough to know this kind of rage wasn’t caused by someone stepping on his toe or taking the last package of his favorite snack. This wasn’t caused by someone looking at him from the wrong angle. This was pure. Primal. “What happened?”
“Give me my power,” he said again, terrifyingly calm and he lowered you down so that your feet reached the floor again, but instead of letting go of your throat, he squeezed it even tighter, pressing his entire body against you. “I’m asking for the last time.”
Everyone present in the café — those who didn’t turn tail the second Sukuna raged inside — were too stunned to react, too petrified to intervene and you couldn’t blame them. The King of Curses, even stripped of most of his cursed energy, was still a threat not to be ignored. Still a menace, a mischievous demonic creature feared by curses, sorcerers and now also regular people that had a misfortune to meet him. The very sound of his name made all of them tremble in terror. You didn’t expect anyone to help you.
“I can’t breathe,” you struggled the words out, whispering on top of the very limited air that flew barely between your upper and lower parts of the respiratory systems. Sukuna growled but loosened the death grip he had on your neck, allowing the oxygen once again into your lungs. Then, you made a mistake. Then, you decided to trust him. “I hope you remember that I will be executed for this. Make it worth it.”
* * *
Later that day, deep into the night you woke up to a sudden slam of the doors. The very familiar, dark aura filled in your otherwise calm apartment and it took no effort to realize who just invaded your space. There were only two people brave enough to enter your home so recklessly and it wasn’t hard to tell them apart.
“Stay in bed,” Sukuna said once you pulled yourself up from the pillows and the mattress and he headed straight into your bathroom. “I need to wash up.”
You exhaled and lay back down, taking in the soft, monotone sound of the shower. You couldn’t tell why he was there, why did he come to your place and act like he owns it but frankly, you couldn’t care less right now about how he behaved. It somehow put you at ease that he decided to show up after what happened before. After what led you to face consequences you wished you wouldn’t have to face.
Few slurs broke up the hushed hum of water and soon it became quiet. Ryomen showed up in your bedroom just few moments after — partially dried, fully naked, with the black markings that adorned his pale skin on full display. Your eyes run down his silhouette, taking in the view no one else had a chance to experience and you let out an exhale. The man ruffled his hair with a towel, an attempt of making it less dripping, and casually slipped under the covers next to you, as if it was his place all along. You spared him the comments about how comfortable he had suddenly become within the confines of your apartment and waited patiently to hear whatever he had to say.
“There was a special curse user earlier,” he began nonchalantly, as he settled against the pillows, supporting his head with both of his arms crossed below it. “He was after you, wanted to suck out everything you have sealed inside.”
“I heard.”
“He wanted to, to quote him, fuck you dry of my power, kill you and make me watch as he became me. That was the plan, to take away the title of king.”
“So, it was about your reputation?” You questioned, letting out a deep sigh and turned away from him. He was quiet for a moment, his eyes piercing a hole through your back.
“Do you think I need to worry about my reputation?” Sukuna growled annoyed and you hummed softly, neither confirming nor denying.
“I guess not.”
You were tired. Exhausted. That was supposed to be your day off, your time to rest and reset but what it turned out to be, was just a disaster. You spent hours arguing with elders of Jujutsu community, trying over and over again to protect yourself, to defend your own life against the accusations that were being thrown at you from every angle and even Gojo couldn’t do much after you willingly released Sukuna’s power from the seal within you. It was bound to happen, you thought you were ready for it ever since it was mentioned for the first time. You were scheduled for execution as it seemed to be safer for the world to kill you, and king’s powers along, than to spare your life and risk it getting out of you, but Satoru then intervened, forcing the date to be postponed. You were high in ranks and he swore you’re capable of keeping the force safe and you did just that for the last twelve months. That’s until you decided to break all the rules and bend to Sukuna’s will.
It wasn’t just that. The cursed user revealed a way to loosen up the lock that held the danger away from the outside world, that he made it known that intimacy was a way to go, your future was decided already. With the knowledge out and about, the elders came to realization that in time there will be more curses or curse users that will come to you to get a taste of that sweet, sweet power and if they won’t do it, Sukuna will. Telling them that the amounts are insignificant didn’t help your case either — those pricks focused more on how you know that rather than what that meant. A diseaster.
“Now what’s wrong, huh? I didn’t kill anybody.”
King threw an arm around your waist, turning his body towards you and supporting his hand on his elbow to see you better. He pulled you into his chest, as if he wished to hide you completely inside his embrace, to protect you from whatever was weighing on your mind and you’d be very surprised if not for the turmoil now raging inside your head.
“My execution has been decided,” you spat out quietly and felt how every muscle in Sukuna’s body tensed significantly. “It’s scheduled for tomorrow night.”
“What execution? I didn’t kill anyone. I got rid of a fucking curse user. I even saved a little brat. Unintentionally, but still.”
“I know, Sukuna, and I am grateful. I really am, but–“
“But what?”
“They found out that sex creates an opening and it just got worse and worse from that moment. They wouldn’t listen and what could I even say to make it sound better. They already figured out that I’m sleeping with you which is enough of a reason to kill me.”
“And what did the jerk in the blindfold say?”
“There’s not much he can do at this point,” you sighed, mindlessly smoothing little circles over the hand that was keeping you close. “From what I know, Gojo stayed in Jujutsu high to discuss it further, but yeah… it’s tough.”
"Should I talk to them?"
"I'm not sure if you insulting or threatening them, could help in any way."
"So what, you expect me to agree to your death?"
"I've thought about it," you said quietly. "God, I'm naive, but I think I'll give you your power back before they execute me. I just hope you don't burn the world to ashes."
"Y/n, for fuck's sake, screw that power. I want you to live. I acted before because that bastard wanted to hurt you. I don't care about my reputation; I don't need to. Sure, it pisses me off that I was robbed of my energy," he babbled, rushing his words. You knew that he wasn't the best at explaining emotions and that he would rather die than admit that he cared for someone. "I need you alive."
"Did the King of Curses perhaps fell..."
"Don't push it," he snapped and you chuckled.
"You two are soooo cute."
Gojo’s voice cut through the tense atmosphere, as he materialized out of nowhere, nearly stopping your heart in the process. Last thing you expected was having him witness you in bed, with your back pressed to the very naked Sukuna and you should’ve seen that coming because you knew Satoru will step by once he’s done negotiating. While you were shocked, the curse didn’t even flinch. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”
"Satoru—" You lifted yourself up on one of your elbow. "Why are you here?"
"I come with good news," a grin spread across Gojo's face. "You will not be executed tomorrow. They took into consideration the fact that Sukuna helped a child and no one was hurt. Well, I forced them to consider it."
"It was an accident," Ryomen muttered in his own defense, but you glared at him, clearly ordering him to shut up. Oddly enough, this time he complied with no remarks.
"Happy little accidents, as they call it," Satoru giggled and spread his arms. "You're safe. Don't mess around too much for a while though. I'm talking to the curse."
Sukuna rolled his eyes, all four, expressing the particular inconvenience of the request, but you knew he'd tone himself down for as long as necessary.
"I can't believe you convinced them for the second time," you fell back into the pillow, relieved.
"What can I say, I have a strong personal charm," Satoru bowed theatrically. "So, are you two together or do you just fuck?"
"We can discuss that some other time, right?"
"Oh yeah, right. Stay safe, kids!" Saying that, Gojo disappeared and none of you even made an attempt to address how he called the thousand years old king a kid.
You let out a deep breath — the one you held for god knows how long — and felt the stress finally taking its toll on you. An exhaustion, sleepiness, anxiety – all of those came crawling at you at once.
"You're so tensed up," Sukuna purred, placing a small kiss on the side of your neck and he wouldn’t say it, but you could tell from the way his body felt against yours, that the tension left him as well. "You can relax now."
"Right," you muttered, sighing and with the encouragement of his hand, you turned to his face and immediately met his lips. He kissed you like a starved man, with a hand on the back of your neck. Murmuring, you surrendered to his touch, allowing yourself to get lost in the feeling of his mouth, to forget about the cruel and cold world around you and to indulge in whatever that was that you had with Sukuna. “We can relax now.”
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lxnarphase · 21 hours
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GOOD MORNING, BABY ๋࣭ ⭑
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☾₊‧⁺...ft. : g. satoru + g. suguru + n. kento + f. toji + k. choso + t. fumihiko
☾₊‧⁺...cw : somnophilia (pre-agreed on), thigh fucking, penetrative sex, pre-established relationship, dirty talk, praise and degradation, mommy kink, breeding kink, satoru and toji are just filthy, choso is so cute and needy, kento is the sweetest husband, it's just really fucking dirty im not sorry
☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : which jjk characters would fuck your thighs while you're sleeping bc they're horny but don't wanna wake you up !!
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who does it to tease you ↴
✧ g. satoru ; satoru tries to wake you up, but you just don't want to. and by try, he means he blew into your ear just for you to huff and smack him away, grumbling to let you sleep or you'd bite him. ohh, you are so cute, he just really can't help himself
“look at my pretty girl, such a mess…tsk, wish she'd wake up, now i gotta fuck her soft, pretty thighs instead of that pretty lil' pussy." “aww, your pussy 's so noisy! listen t' her...she's all wet, she's cryin' f'me to fuck her, isn't she? aww, poor thing...” “ooh, are you cumming, baby? cumming in your sleep like a slutty little girl while I fuck your thighs, so precious…”
✧ g. suguru ; suguru's hands move up and down your soft curves while he grinds against your thighs, quiet, sticky noises sounding in the room. you're so adorable, he wants to shake you awake but teasing you with his thick cock nudging against your clit is so much more fun
“you’ve always been so responsive, i didn’t think my dick between your thighs would get you like this, princess.” “oh? was that my name? don’t tell me you’re having a wet dream about me. so dirty, baby, thinking of me like that while sleeping when I’m right here with you.” “don’t you wanna wake up and move my cock somewhere other than your thighs? c'mon, princess, wake up for me.”
who does it because they are desperate ↴
✧ k. choso ; not outright fucking you is painful, but he doesn’t want to wake you up. He’s so fucking hard, that dream affected him more than he thought, and before he knew it, he was fucking your thighs, not caring how loud he was being.
“baby, baby, fuck, hoohmygodd, please! need y'so bad, so fuckin' soft, so soft, fuck, could d' this to you all the time, never wanna stop, p-please, god, 'm gonna cum all over you-!” “sticky fuckin' p-pussy's beggin' me t' fuck it, b-but wanna see you look at me. c'mon, c-c'monnn, please wake up, let me stick it in, o-or 'm gonna waste it a-and cum all over your cunt.” “oh, mmh, ’m cumming, ’m cumming, baby, i-i’ll clean y' up after, g'nna fuck you again 'n' again 'n' againnn, fuck, ’m cumming-!”
✧ t. fumihiko ; poor thing, fumihiko honestly tries to deal with it by himself, trying to just jerk off in the bathroom, but it doesn't work. he knew what he needed, he needed you, needed to touch and feel you around him. with shaky hands holding your thighs, he slides his aching cock between your thighs, moaning so cutely…and when you wake up and start cooing to him, he absolutely loses himself.
“i’m-i’m gonna mess you up so bad, been wantin’ to leave you a mess for so long, so fucking long, 'm g-gonna cum all over your pretty thighs. 's okay, right? right? mmh, okay, 'm gonna do it, 'm gonna cum on 'em.” “y-yeah, yeah, fuck, your thighs are so soft, feel so good around my cock, gonna cum all over them, m-ma'am.” “'s so much cum, i can’t stop cumming, m-mommy, ’m losing my mind, love your thighs, they're so soft, s' soft, thank you, thank you, thank you-!”
who wakes you up ↴
✧ f. toji ; it’s not uncommon for toji to wake up in the middle of the night, cock hard in his sweats. can you blame the guy when he's sleeping next to the sexiest woman he's ever laid his eyes on. he thanks whatever god there is for giving him a wife like you who lets him fuck your soft thighs until you wake up up so he can stuff you full of cum instead of wasting it on your stomach.
“’s time to wake up, mama, don’ ya wan' me t' fuck your needy cunt 'stead of these pretty thighs?” “aw, y'look soooo cute and dumb right now…my pretty thing. c'mon, spread those legs for me, mama, toji's gonna take care of ya.” “did y' dream 'bout me fucking your thighs? yeah? mm, you’re takin' my cock like you wanted me t' fuck you awake…hm? you want that next time? mm, i’ll keep it in mind, baby girl, now shut up and let me fuck you dumb.”
✧ n. kento ; he usually only does this when he’s very very frustrated from working, coming home to see his pretty baby in one of his button-ups sleeping, thighs out in the open. he can’t help himself, softly calling your name as he slides his hard cock slowly in and out between your thighs, giving you soft smile when you wake up.
“sorry to wake you, darling, I know it’s late, but I need you. you just...look so beautiful, i couldn't help himself.” “you were responding so cutely in your sleep…would you rather I be inside you? ask nicely, honey, and I’ll give you what you want. you know a good husband does whatever his wife asks.” “so, so pretty like this, i could fuck you for days. should i do that, my sweet girl? mm, maybe i should take tomorrow off and keep you in bed all take, make sure that my seed takes. what do you think, sweetheart, you want me to give you a baby?”
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all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
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voxisdaddy · 2 days
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Love Me, Please
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Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Pairings: Alastor/Lucifer/Adam/Husk/Angel/Vox/Valentino/Tom Trench/Saint Peter
Type: Scenarios/Comfort
C/TW: Swearing, blood, reader written with fem parts in mind (bc this bout periods, duh)
In which you miss your boyfriend/cling to your boyfriend and are being emotional about it. Basically—period emotions.
This is more for me bc it’s that time of the month and I desperately want some comfort lol | also Angel’s I left up to either be platonic or romantic
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Alastor
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He was at yet another unremarkable overlord meeting when he felt something pulling on him. Back at the hotel, you laid on your bed wrapped in a cocoon of sorts, eyes tiredly watching your shadow pulling on one of Alastor’s shadows-which he left to keep an eye on you. Alastor’s grin turned to one of amusement—oh how needy you are when it’s that time of the month for you. The meeting finally came to a close and instead of making his way back to the hotel with a lovely stroll, he disappears in his shadows. Not before bidding a friendly farewell with his dear friend, Rosie. He materializes in the center of your room with a shit eating grin as he twirls his microphone around.
“I was hardly apart from you for more than an hour, my dear.”
Lucifer
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Lucifer had errands he couldn’t postpone today and so he made you promise to text him when you miss him and he’ll make his way right back in a jiffy! The bedroom door only closed behind him when he got a text from you. An ‘I miss you’ along with a sad face emoticon. He burst the door open, tears welling up in his eyes, as he crawled back into bed with you to hold you close. You honestly thought he was more emotional than you at the moment.
“My poor ducky! I’m sowwy!”
Adam
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Adam has been around for ages so I like to think he knows a bit about menstruation. On top of that, he has an army of baddies he likes spending time with-usually training but that's still time spent with them regardless. However he's definitely still rough around the edges since usually with his girls, he uses that to egg them on into being tougher fighters either physically or emotionally. If you're a person who's quick to be a grump or a crying mess then uhhh...just know he doesn't mean to be a dick all the time. He tries though, despite how annoying and tiresome it is. Especially since you make him feel oh so special with how you seem to demand his attention and his attention only. Right now you lay on his chest, looking on at the items set on the coffee table with a glint of amusement.
"Babe-you said pads with wings! I got that! I even made sure the chicken wings came with the good sauce."
Husk
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Husk is very vigilant so he's quickly able to come to the conclusion that you're on your period before even you realize it. It was just after he finished closing up the bar and returned to your room for a late nights rest when he smelt it. He might technically be an old man, but he's a respectful one and has been around for quite some time. He knows that small. Despite knowing you might be embarrassed to find out that he can smell it, he figured you'd be more grateful that he woke you up so you can deal with it before you wake up feeling all gross and annoyed in the morning. Plus it was worth it to almost immediately get a hug from you after being apart for a few extra hours than he liked.
"Come on. Don't wanna ruin your new pajama's now, do you baby doll?
Angel Dust
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ This man was out on a much needed night out with his long time bestie, Cherri Bomb. You of course coming as his plus one that his bestie always welcomed like the supportive girly she is. He couldn't quite enjoy himself as much this time around though as he sat at in a corner booth with you hunched over your drink. You're hand gripping one of his hands as if you're afraid he's gonna leave. Despite how awkward he felt trying to comfort you, he did his best and allowed himself to be as sympathetic as much as he could.
"Toot's-if you wanna leave it's okay! You know I'll stick with ya! No need to make ya headache worse than it already is!"
Vox
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vox still holds certain belief's and mindsets he had from his time in the 1950's. Part of that meaning him being 'grossed out' by your period and beliefs in woman faking or over exaggerating their monthly disturbances. He learned to keep his opinions to himself though, due to previous encounters with Velvette, and found it easier to just well, cater to your needs. They were easy enough for the most part. Food and beverage cravings? He's got ya covered. Cramps and aches? You're in luck because this man is basically one large heating pad. Which quickly became a downside for him because then you wanted him all the time. Didn't matter if he was working or not. He tried to put his foot down once but it only made you emotional so uhhh-
"Honey, I'll only be gone for one hour. As soon as the meeting ends, I'll lay my head on your stomach, okay?"
Valentino
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Valentino can only smirk to himself when he finds out it's now your time of the month. Which isn't hard to figure out since he woke up to you latched onto him like a koala this morning. A puff of red smoke invades your senses as a pair of arms wrap around your shoulders, a third hand coming to play with the top of your head. Valentino, spending years working with woman and people who endure this bloody cycle, knows a few...remedy's. He has his favourite solutions, obviously. Only if you're down. The last time he tried being more...persuasive with his advances to you during these times, it didn't go well-to put it lightly.
"Mi cariño~A good fucking helps with this time of the month, you kno-" ... "Or we could share some snacks. Kitty!"
Tom Trench
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ For this man I pray you are not a bitch on your period. Poor guy already has to deal with his co-star Katie Killjoy everyday. Whatever you deal with on your period though, just know your man is there and keeps your needy ass close. Such as right now, as you sit in an oversized fuzzy hoodie on Tom's couch, watching him and Katie host the latest news live. You glance down at your phone with Tom's messages open. You want to text him but you knew it wouldn't reach him anyways-they had to keep their devices on silent while they hosted. As soon as they were finished with their shift of the day however, Tom rushed to his dressing room to find you staring at the door with open arms.
"The interns told me you were waiting for me."
Saint Peter
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ This man would never admit it out loud, and if he did he would word it very carefully, but he loves it when its your time of the month. I mean he feels bad for you obviously; dealing with an inconvenience once a month even in your afterlife does not sound like any sort of blessing, but he's clingy and affectionate himself. And you clinging to him just as much? Oh it's like he's died and went to Heaven-again! Currently he lays on the couch with you in his arms, you both engulfing each other in a snuggly cuddle. He periodically checks the time-as much as he loves this he's still got a job to do. He voices this but quickly finds himself soothing you.
"I'm only going to work, sweetheart! P-please don't cry!"
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This was supposed to be reader missing them but some of them became not exactly that and I’m sorry lol
I’ve had this in my drafts for a month, felt about right to finally post it. I’m also ashamed to admit, it took me way too long trynna figure out what to write for Tom’s dialogue. I love him but if I don’t know him as well as I thought 😭
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suiana · 2 days
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(yandere! seller x gn! reader) (slight nsfw? idk)
when he said he'd give you a special gift you didn't expect... whatever the hell this is.
you were expecting a free plushie or something, not... not a love letter and money! okay, the money was appreciated but the love letter? what the hell?
'I love you so much... you're so cute, I wanna bite you....'
that's not even the worst part! like, it gets worser from here! he talks about how he knows everything about you... how he would devote his entire life to you if you would just let him...
bro you didn't even know he existed before this online order.
and what's with this weird white stain at the end of the letter? it messed up his name and now you don't even know what to call him!
oh well, maybe you'll email him about it? i mean, he probably won't respond quick since it's a sunday and he's a small business owner but-
[email protected]: hi <3 i see that you are unsatisfied with our product and gift? use this new code for another free gift upon your next purchase!
okay, what the fuck.
you hadn't even sent him anything.
why the hell did he respond?
how did he know you were absolutely flabbergasted with his gift?
...was he stalking you?
you immediately turn your head, frantically looking around for any hint that he was indeed stalking you. none.
you breathe out a shaky sigh of relief before your blood runs cold again.
[email protected]: that is not very skibidi of you :(
[email protected]: are you afraid of me? please don't be...
[email protected]: btw i'm in your closet lol
you stare at the new responses, blinking slowly before deciding to turn off your phone. you then stand up, walking towards your nearest wall before smashing your head against it in hopes of ascending to the next plane.
that's right fellas! if you don't want to deal with your troubles just bash your head into a wall! haha, what do you mean there's a guy coming out of your closet? just ignore him silly!
"darling! what the hell are you doing-"
ah... you must be ascending already. there's a new voice in the room! he's even trying to pull you away? he must be an angel...
"sweetheart please! this is not very fanum tax of you!"
"i'm wallmaxxing."
"oh. in that case..."
the guy that came out of your closet joins you in smashing his head against the wall.
yes! embrace the joy of wallmaxxing together!
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somegrumpynerd · 3 days
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I really want Nightmare and Dream to freaky friday swap into each other's bodies and have to deal with their enemies from the other side.
Like Dream is trying to get used to one eye and being encased in goop and how do you control these tentacles and every few minutes one of the boys appears to ask for something or show him something or just hang around him. He's trying his best to sound professional and stern (it's not a great impression) but also he feeds off negativity now right?? So why does it sting so much when they're around him?
Meanwhile Nightmare is goop-free and seeing in two eyes for the first time in centuries (and probably takes twice as long to do things because he forgets he doesn't have tentacles anymore). He's trying to sound upbeat and cheery (again, not a great impression) but also good grief people really bother Dream for things. It seems like every way he turns there's somebody who needs something or has a sob story or a complaint, and he's beginning to realise why Dream protects Blue so violently how are you emitting all this positivity please don't leave me. Also where is Ink. Every five minutes where is he what is he doing.
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livelaughlovesubs · 2 days
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Incubus fyodor 1
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Dom!priest!reader x sub!incubus!fyodor
Warning: pegging, CNC, against a wall, in a church lol, also taking virginity??
Sometimes I use strap, most of the time dick or whatever. Then anyone can feel included? Idk?
This was requested by 🍮 anon, like a loooong time ago. Gonna repost it now :> (was too lazy to do so but now that you are back-)
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Fyodor was just wandering around, looking for his next victim. It was boring to keep staying at one place, he always craved something grandiose and better. One day he ended up at a church after going around town, he detested those places due to his nature. But then he saw you through the windows, a diligent priest working for god. Proud, hard working and kind. What a sight, you must have never known the pleasures of the flesh. Oh how he pitied you, guess he will just ‘enlighten’ you then~
The incubus was wandering inside the building, looking everywhere for you. Until he found you in the chancel, the sacred place. Perfect, let's see how sacred it will be after he defies god’s little helper. Protecting one’s innocence? How laughable.
Fyodor walked inside, wrapping his hands around you and holding you from behind. Hands running all over your torso, grinning in delight as he said, “come on, let's have a little fun~ I can fulfil all your fantasies...” before he could even react to it, you took hold of his hands, turning around and twisting them in the process. “aAHH-”he yelped, falling backwards and taking a few steps back, his body hitting the wall. Your hand pinning his wrists over his head, knee pressed against the wall in between his legs. He felt you apply pressure to his crotch.
The boy gritted his teeth, showing his fangs. "Are you a demon?" You asked nonchalantly, while he struggled against your strength. Fuck, why were you so strong? “Yea and? What, gonna exorcise me? Haha.” “An incubi probably, by the way you were touching me.” You came to that conclusion, not an ounce of emotion present in your voice.
Continuing on as if you didn't hear him, thinking for a second. “I suppose you wanted to feast on me?” He stared at you with a skeptical look, why did you seem so interested? Before he got the chance to ask you, you commented, “I'm sorry that you were born this way, having to rely on such sinful acts to survive.. what a pitiful being.” “What, oh no you are the pitiful thing here, I bet you don't know what pleasure is, all because of some prideful faith. Want me to teach you?” Fyodor said cheekily, grinning as he looked up at you, his knees bend slightly due to the position.
“Don't get me wrong, I don't detest your kind. God has taught us to accept anyone. In fact, i’d be willing to help you, so that you don't need to bother other innocent souls. It's the duty of a priest.” He didn't understand what you were hinting at, for him you were talking garbage. “You aren’t going to seal me or anything?” The demon was genuinely confused, you want to help him? Why? “No need to fear anything, I'm sure you have experience in this field after all.” Next thing he knew you turned him around, his back arching like a crescent moon. “What are you…” suddenly you pulled his pants down, exposing his plum butt. “Huh?! wha-" poor him, that incubus was super confused now, this can't be what he thinks it is right?
Seems like his worries came true, it was what he feared, he knew when he felt your tip press against him. “Hu-huh? Wait a second..! I-I thought you were...” “I've learned many ways to deal with succubus or incubus, don't worry I'm quite experienced too.” Then you entered him, yearning a surprised moan from the male. “Ahh..!” Fingers desperately gripping the wall, looking for anything he can clench onto, eyes looking back and trying to understand the situation. He was getting… topped? By a priest nonetheless??
Him? Up until now he has only ever been on top. What experience, this is his first! Fyodor felt another push from you, the strap slowly driving into him. “You are so tight... ah, what's your name?” “Why do you care, pull it out!” “I'm sorry, I can't do that.” “Why?!” “Because I have to subdue you first, to make you submit.” Your voice was serious as you said that, pushing more of your dick inside him. “UgHh! Slo-slow down...gentle, gentle! Ah, hu-hurts..” the boy whined now, crying softly as his dick twitched in excitement. “Oh? It is your first? Maybe you aren’t as dirty as I thought.” Still using the same emotionless voice as before, you kept unintentionally leave snarky remarks behind. All while your free hand collected the slick around his rim, covering the toy with it.
“So wet already, more than many others of your kind.” Were you mocking him? He wanted to insult you, if only the dick wasn't making his mind go blank. “Ahh...you, I won't-mhm! Fo-forgive you.” “I don't need your forgiveness, only gods.” You said, before starting to move and trust into him. Then you explained, “in order to excuse this sin I had to commit due to your existence, we will have to work hard to beg for forgiveness.” “AhHh! Ah-aHh.ah. Oh-uhh..uhm! Nghh..!” Each trust was paired with whimpers or a moan. Cute squeaking sounds escaped him, face and shoulders flushed red and figure covered in sweat now. His filthy fluids were running down those slim and shaky legs, eyes rolling into the back of his head. What was he doing, didn't he plan on fucking you at first? So how was he getting dicked down now. It was still too hard to comprehend. Yet it felt so good.. it was melting his brain, he has never felt anything this amazing before.
“Such inappropriate noises you are letting out, i guess you are enjoying yourself?” The hand which you used to collect his slick was now on his hips, holding him in place since he kept trying to wriggle his way out, trying to escape those blissful sensations. “Ah..wait..ah-Uhm! This is..no-no good..stop aHh!” He whispered, shortly after tears started rolling down his blushing face. You only picked up your pace, going faster and rutting into him roughly, sometimes you'd brush against his prostate which made him cry out even more. “Ah-aAhhH! OOHh! I'm c-close.. m’gonna cu-cum.” Fyodor breathed out, his entire being quivering in pleasure. This was heaven. Don’t get him wrong, he knew nothing of heaven but this is how he'd imagine paradise to be like. He was filled with pure ecstasy, it was damn addicting and he doesn't think he will ever get over it.
“You have to beg for forgiveness, and to excuse your pathetic self.” You whispered into his ear. Like a spell he couldn’t disobey, he immediately began pleading with.. whom? God? You? Ugh.. to think he had come this low. “AhhHhAA!! ohHh! For-forgive meHHnghh~..!!” His release came in torrents, coursing through his veins and making his legs go weak. He felt so helpless, so exposed and vulnerable with you. And it was the best feeling he has ever experienced, never in his life did he knew something like this was possible. Those noises were filled with desire and longing, loud and clear as he painted the wall white, “aAhHahhhH~!” A shudder ran down his spine, hole clenching down onto you.
The slick was all the way down to his knees now, and he was still lost in subspace. Guess the climax was pretty intense, rendering him to such a whiny mess. You weren't sure if he could understand you, but you tried it anyway. “So, may I inquire the name of you pitiful thing?” There were no answers, only breathy whines and pants. Eventually he gasped out his name meekly, mumbling, “fyo-fyodor…” After blinking a few times, you leaned down to his ear and uttered in a seductive, as well as sadistic voice. This was the first time he heard your tone change. “I'm going to keep you here, so that you wont cause troubles for others. You don’t mind being my pet fyodor, isn’t that right?” And you let go of him after finishing your sentence. Hands leaving his body. Ahh..another shiver travelled down to his core, how could he ever refuse such an enticing offer? Without your help, his legs finally betrayed his body as he crashed down onto the ground. Sitting there looking all ravaged while a sticky white puddle formed beneath him. Fyodor looked at you over his shoulder while panting heavily, tongue hanging out from his blushing face like a dumb little pet.
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Part two
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eddiesxangel · 2 days
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Downhearted | E.M
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Cw: reader with bad mental health (depression/anxiety), bestfriend!Eddie x fem!reader, hurt/comfort, smut 18+ Eddie takes care of reader.
2.4k (this was suppose to be a blurb… oops)
Recently, you have been feeling very low, and despite your best efforts, you are struggling to get back to your usual self. However, your best friend Eddie has not given up on you. He has been by your side, trying to uplift your mood and bring back your smile, but nothing seems to work. Eddie has tried everything in his power to help you, from taking you out for lunch to watching funny movies together, but once you are on your own, everything seems to be crashing down on you even harder.
Your friend is worried about you and wants to see you happy again. He understands how challenging it is to deal with mental health issues and how it can affect your life. That's why he has come up with a last-ditch plan to lift your spirits and make you feel better. He hopes that this plan will work and bring a smile to your face once again.
To make things worse, you have been distancing yourself from your friends for weeks now, and you feel terrible about it. You feel like you're letting them down, especially Eddie, who has been there for you through thick and thin. He has come over at least three times a week since your mental health started to deteriorate again, and he has never given up on you.
This isn't the first time your mental health has plummeted, but this time, it's worse than ever before. You don't even have the energy to try and get better, and you feel like everything is falling apart around you. However, Eddie's unwavering support and his last-ditch plan to lift your spirits give you hope that things will get better soon.
Living alone didn’t help. You would go days without talking to someone, and that only made things worse. So Eddie made it his mission to be there for you. You’ve always been there for him; it’s the least he can do.
You haven’t left your bed today or all week. You’ve been on your phone all day but not really doing anything; you’re numb. Not even videos of kittens could make you feel anything.
You’ve been ignoring Eddie's pleas to help you. Text after text, his contact would pop up, but you paid no mind. So when you hear the knock on your door, you groan, knowing it’s him. You want to do anything but get up, but how could you leave your best friend standing out there? The thought made you sick to your stomach. You don’t deserve him. He’s too good to you, and all you do is bring him down with you.
As you sniffle back your tears and your inner demons, you wrap yourself in your blanket and pad your way slowly to the door.
You open it, and Eddie’s smile falls when he sees you. You haven’t looked at yourself in over a week, and you also haven’t showered in over a week. As Eddie takes in your state, a small, heartbroken “sweetheart” leaves his lips.
He felt so guilty for not being able to visit you last week. He’d been working doubles and was exhausted. Today was his first day off in six days, and he was so excited to spend time with you.
Your vision blurs as you see Eddie standing there with a bag of groceries with food, actual nutrition that you've been depriving yourself of, only aiding your demons.
He drops the bag and wraps his arms around your frail frame, and you break.
“I don’t know what's wrong with me?” Your voice cracks. You can’t remember the last time you spoke words aloud.
Your breath is shaky, and you tremble as you feel Eddie’s strong arms wrapped around you.
His familiar smell only calms you a little, but you’re so exhausted you can no longer hold it together.
He coos you and strokes your greasy hair, not caring how dirty it feels. He understands, he knows.
“Come, let’s get you feeling a little better, ok?”
“I can’t,” your voice shakes.
“Yes, I’ll be right here to help, okay?” He cups your face, gently forcing you to look into his eyes.
He walks you to the kitchen table, and he begs you to drink some water and eat the sandwich he brought over for you.
While you eat, you see Eddie unpack the groceries and then go to your room. A few minutes later, he comes out to throw your sheets in the washer and pulls a fresh pair from your linen closet.
You finish eating as much as you can when Eddie returns from making your bed.
Eddie coerced you to the bathroom. He helps you brush your teeth and convinces you to shower, not daring to joke about how you smell. You say you will as long as he stays in there with you.
Washing yourself was too much to do on your own. So he stood on the other side of the curtain, and you just stood there under the hot water, unable to move.
“Sweetheart? You doing okay?”
Your tears are camouflaged, but your gasps aren’t.
“N-no”
“Do… do you want me to help?” He cringes.
You don’t answer, and it worries Eddie. Had he overstepped? You were naked behind the thin material separating you.
Eddie waits for a few more beats; his heart is pounding. But he releases his breath when he sees your hand push the curtain aside to invite him in.
Nothing would be able to prepare him for the sight before his eyes. You had already started but didn’t get far; some soap suds had already been spread across your chest.
He tried hard to ignore how the blood flow immediately started flowing south. This was not the time to get a boner.
You watched how Eddie removed his shirt and pants in a daze. He kept on his boxers, but you could see the small tent forming.
You didn’t even care that you were naked in front of your best friend because you felt nothing.
You just wanted to feel something.
Eddie stepped in with you and pulled the shower curtain closed. It was so intimate; you and Eddie hadn’t been this close in this way before. But you trusted one another, and there was no awkwardness or hesitation once Eddie squeezed the shampoo in his hands and started.
I felt Eddie’s fingers massage your scalp, and it was nice. The last time someone took care of you like this was when you were a child when you were not old enough to do it yourself.
Eddie ensured that everything was rinsed properly, and then he moved on to the conditioner. He made sure to saturate all your hair before he took the loofa and your body wash.
Now this, was where Eddie got a little nervous. He didn’t want to overstep.
As you stood there, almost catatonic, he lifted your arms to get your armpits, then he ran the soap down your arms, across your back and down your legs, avoiding your more intimate areas.
“You think you can help me out, sweetheart?”
You slowly nod your head, and he passes you the saturated loofa.
Eddie watches as you run it across your chest, lifting a breast to get underneath. Eddie tries not to, but he can’t help but feel aroused. He tries to push it away, but the last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable.
He knows you trust him; you’re asking him to help you in your darkest hour.
He shifts, trying to avoid your gaze; it’s only making things harder. Literally.
He pushes away those thoughts and makes sure you’re fully rinsed off. He turns off the water for you and goes to get your towel. He’s soaked, but he doesn’t care; your wellbeing will come first, even if he’s sprouting goosebumps along his flesh.
He takes your hand to guide you out of the tub. You feel slightly better, but it’s not enough.
When a thought pops into your head, you don’t care if it’s stupid, so you act on it without giving it any more thought.
You reach out and graze your hand over Eddie’s soaked boxers. They are taught to his skin, not hide anything, and you can see he’s ready and willing to go.
He steps back at the sudden touch.
“Please, Eddie, I need to feel something, anything. I don’t know what else to do” you sobbed.
As you stand there, feeling lost and alone, Eddie's embrace envelops you, pulling you in closer. In this moment, you know that you are not alone and that your friend is there to support you through thick and thin. Eddie's hug is so tight; he needs you to know that he would let nothing in the world hurt you. You close your eyes and breathe in deeply, grateful for your friend's unwavering support.
“Shhhhhh y/n, it’s okay. I have you.” He wraps the fluffy bath towel around your body, keeping you warm.
“Please Eddie”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. I won’t let this change anything between us, I swear.”
“Okay, sweetheart. Okay,” he didn’t know if this was a good idea, but he had to do something to make you feel better; he would do anything for you; he would get the moon for you if there was a way. So he will do this for you.
He surprises you by lifting you up bridal style and carrying you to the bedroom. He's much stronger than you thought as he gently placed you down on your fresh sheets.
“Tell me if you want to stop, okay?”
“I promise, Eddie.” You nod.
Slowly, Eddie leans down to kiss you gently. The mint toothpaste still lingers on your breath. His lips feel so soft; it’s nice to be kissed.it's nice to be kissed by Eddie.
You feel his lips detach from yours, moving across your cheek and lowering your neck. The water from his hair trickled into your skin, making you shiver.
Eddie wanted to know your body, what made you tick, what made you moan, what made you needy with desire. He focused on the side of your neck and was proud when he found a spot that made you whimper.
“That okay, sweetheart?”
“Mmhmmm”
He could feel your chest rise and fall with heavy breaths. He could see he was getting you worked up the way you needed.
His timid fingers spread your legs wider so he could feel you and to Eddie’s surprise, you were still dry. He thought he would feel your slick as he slowly rubbed your pussy, but it wasn’t there.
“I uh- um. I don’t think you’re enjoying this.” he sits back, a bit defeated. This hasn’t happened to him before.
“It’s not you, Eddie; it’s me. I-I want to... You’re doing good; it’s just that sometimes girls need help if they’re like… this…”
“Oh,” Eddie understands, you're still in your head,” Eddie understands, you.
“I have lube and condoms in the nightstand”
Eddie reaches over you to grab it. The crack of the hard plastic lid is so loud in the silent room that you flinch a little.
“Sorry”
“It’s okay,” you whisper. Suddenly you’re very aware you’re naked in front of your best friend, but that is brushed to the side when you feel his slippery fingers make contact with your pussy once again.
“Ohhhh,” you breathe in.
Eddie smirks and leans in to kiss you once again. You feel his tongue slick its way past your lips; who knew he was such a good kisser.
Slowly, minute by minute, you’re actually feeling something—pleasure. Eddie brings you back to life with each touch, brush, and kiss.
“Eddie,” you moan as his fingers slip inside you.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“More,” you pant.
You don’t have to tell him twice. He will do anything to make you feel better, which seems to be working. He rips open the condom, and you surprise him by reaching up to cup his balls. He gasps, and a smirk spreads across your face for the first time in weeks.
“I knew there was a little freak you were hiding from me.” Eddie laughs, and he pulls one out of you as well. His heart swells when he hears the sound leave your lips.
“There’s my girl,” so much relief is behind his eyes.
“Hi, Eddie.” You look up at him like he’s given you all the stars in the sky.
“You still want to do this?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” he brushes your wet hair behind your ear and softly kisses you. It becomes needy quickly, and desperation takes over both of you.
It didn’t matter that you were only best friends, that you weren’t okay, that he was in just as much pain as you were. All that mattered was one another, two physical entities in your own little world. Your mind was completely erased; for a moment, you finally forgot everything weighing down on you.
Eddie continues to kiss you as he guides himself in slowly. You can’t help but take a deep breath as he pushes his way in.
As Eddie entered you, you melted into his touch. Nothing could have made you feel this good. He was consuming every inch of your being. With every brush, every thrust, every nip, kiss and bite, you were coming alive again.
Eddie’s hands travel all along your body, squeezing your breasts, tweaking your nipples, making you twitch and grind up into Eddie’s touch. Your hips are ungulate with his, and your moments become one as you and Eddie perform the perfect dance.
The past picks up faster and faster. Eddie brushes the spot inside you every single time, and you’re crying out his name.
Eddie can’t believe he’s making you feel this good, this wanted. His beautiful best friend was here helping you, holding you, and doing this for you.
“Eddie, please”
“Let go, baby”
The pet name accidentally slipped past his lips and didn’t go unnoticed. It only aided your orgasm to come that much quicker.
A wave of pleasure crashed over you as it washed through your whole body without warning.
Eddie watched as he was the one who made your body quiver, to make your eyes roll back, to have you silently screaming for him. He couldn’t hold on anymore, either. Your cunt clamped down so tightly on his cock he shook as he spilled into the condom.
His sweaty body collapses on you, and the only thing you can hear is your erratic breaths.
“Thank you, Eddie,” you sniffle, and Eddie quickly pops his head up because you’re crying once again.
“Baby, please don’t cry. I can’t take it anymore.” he holds your face, wiping away your tears with his thumbs.
“No, it's- it's happy tears; you helped me feel something. I thought I was broken. Thank you, Teddie.”
“I’ll always be here for you; I love you, sweetheart."
You didn’t care if he only meant platonically or romantically; he was your person forever and always.
“I love you too.”
Tagging some mooties!: @nailbatanddungeon @taintedcigs @hellfirenacht @littlexdeaths @andvys @rebelfell @xxbimbobunnyxx @rowanswriting @voyeurmunson @asimpforthe80s @mmunson86 @slutty-thevampireslayer @strangerstilinski
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rafesfavgirl · 2 days
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with a broken heart — r. cameron
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part 1. something a little more lighthearted to make up for breaking y'alls hearts :)
series: every few lifetimes
❝ i was grinning like i'm winning  i was hitting my marks 'cause i can do it with a broken heart ❞
pairing: ex-bf!rafe x fem!reader
context: after getting your heart broken, you pack your bags and leave the obx, only to come face to face with rafe again, eight years later.
words: 2.4k+
warnings: rafe and reader are aged up (26/27), old flames, FLUFF
"now remember, this client's a big prospect," your boss says as you follow him out of the office car and into the building you were scoping out today. "i guarantee if you can close this deal, you'll be well on your way to becoming the next junior partner."
"hank, are you serious?" you stop in your tracks and he looks at you. 
when you first left the outer banks for new york, you went to nyu without a clue on what you wanted to do with the rest of your life. somewhere along the way, you graduated magna cum laude and pursued law school at columbia. your first year, hank took you on as an intern, and by the time you graduated, you had a job lined up for you at one of the biggest real estate agencies in the world. and though you knew how well you did your job, becoming junior partner as a second-year associate was way beyond where you thought you'd be—it was nothing short of a dream come true.
"don't think what you've done for this company has been lost on me, y/n," he tells you. "you're an asset. i knew it since that first summer i took you on as an intern."
a smile comes across your lips. "well, i can't disappoint," you say. "let's close this fucking deal."
"that's what i like to hear, come on," he continues leading you through the building, until the two of you reached a tall guy with a buzzcut wearing a navy blue suit scoping out the place.
"mr. cameron," you don't miss the familiar name when you and your boss stop behind him, your breath hitching when the guy turns around to greet you both. "this is-"
"y/n," your name rolls off rafe's tongue the same way it always did, your heart beating so hard you feared it'd jump out of your chest.
hank's eyes shift between the two of you, as he shakes rafe's hand. "you two know each other?"
"yeah," rafe nods, his eyes set on you—he couldn't believe that you were actually standing in front of him. a part of him thought that when you left the obx he'd never see you again. "we uh— we went to high school together."
"well that's wonderful," hank smiles. "no need for the awkward introduction then."
except— it was awkward. you didn't just go to high school together. you fell in love in high school. and two months before you chose to go to nyu, rafe broke your heart.
"y/n here will be the one walking you through the contract, and hopefully setting you up with one of our best architects," hank explains to him, while you continue trying to process the fact that he was actually here.
what were the odds that he was the client you needed to win over in order to make junior partner? 
"so, does that all sound good to you?" you finish going over the contract for the building and look at rafe.
the two of you hovered over a table in the empty space that you'd spread out all the documents on.
"yeah, y/n, it all sounds great." the smile he throws your way makes your stomach turn in the worst way—making you realize that the piece of your heart that never stopped beating for him still existed. "where do i sign?"
"uh— right here," you pick up your pen to draw x's on all the lines he had to sign on, before holding it out to him.
he takes it from you, and you watch as he leans over to sign on each and everyone of them, your eyes trailing over how well his suit fit him.
he must hit the gym at least four times a week, you thought. he's grown quite a bit since you last saw him.
"there you go," rafe hands the pen back out to you, and you take it from him with a smile.
"thank you," you say. "you won't regret it."
"oh, i know," he nods, eyes scanning over your face. "i'd never regret anything that involves you."
you feel the heat rise on your cheeks, but you keep it professional, gathering the files on the table back into your folder. "well then, i'll leave you with the contacts of our architects and if you have any further questions, you can reach out to hank or any of the other executives."
"yeah, okay," he replies, hiding his disappointment in the fact that you didn't tell him to contact you with any questions he may have.
"it was a pleasure doing business with you, mr. cameron," you hold out a hand to him for a handshake and he stares at it for a second, before reluctantly placing his hand in yours.
"it sure was," he smiles. "but you know you can just call me rafe, don't you?"
"this is how i address all my clients," you tell him. "it's just the professional thing to do."
"yeah, yeah, i get it," he nods. "guess i'm just not used to it coming from you."
you crack a smile at his somewhat nervous stance—you weren't used to seeing him this way. "it was nice to see you again, rafe. good luck with everything."
"yeah," he grins. "you too."
you turn to walk away, while rafe stays back, scratching the back of his head in contemplation before calling out to you. "hey y/n?"
"yeah?" you ask, stopping to look at him again.
"you got any plans tonight?"
"rafe, i-"
"oh, come on," he cuts you off, slowly closing the distance between you two. "there's no reason we can't be friends, right?"
wrong—there were many reasons. one being that you spent years piecing yourself back together after he decided to give up on you. 
"let's catch up," he persists, his blue eyes locking with yours. "get a drink with me tonight."
despite your head screaming no, you agree. "one drink," you say, causing a smile to spread across his face. "ten o'clock. meet me at the bar on fifth."
the second you walk into the bar, rafe rises from his stool at the counter and waves you over. he had gotten there 30 minutes early to make sure you weren't left waiting for him—you'd done enough of that.
"hey," he seems nervous when you reach him, wiping his hands on his slacks before reluctantly wrapping his arms around you in a hug.
you resist the urge to giggle—it was kinda entertaining to see this six-foot-two tall man get nervous around you—and briefly return his hug.
"have you been here long?" you ask, taking off your jacket and taking a seat in the empty stool beside him.
"nah, just about five minutes or so," he lies, shrugging and giving you a lopsided smile, as the bartender walks up to greet you both.
"anything i can get you?" she asks, eyes lingering on rafe for a little longer than you.
"just a glass of whiskey for me," rafe tells her. "neat."
"and i'll just have a glass of pinot noir," you say, when the girl turns to look at you. "thank you."
"and you can just put it on this," rafe reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, and you cut in. "rafe, you don't have to-"
"nonsense," he shakes his head at you and slides his black amex across to the bartender. "i invited you out. it's on me."
the bartender picks up his card, and gives him a smile. "rafe cameron. i'll remember that."
subtly, rafe rolls his eyes and you hold back a snicker. "please don't."
the bartender huffs as her eyes shifts between the two of you, but walks away without another word to get your drinks and charge rafe's card.
you kink a brow at him. "you get bartenders flirting with you a lot?"
"i guess it happens every now and then," he shrugs.
"it's definitely the buzz," you tell him, as a different bartender brings over your drinks and hands rafe back his card.
"thank you," he briefly acknowledges him, before turning his attention back on you, an amused smile on his face. "you think?"
"yeah," you nod, bringing your wine glass up to take a sip. "it makes you look older— more mature. it suits you."
he cracks a smile, a small chuckle slipping out from between his lips. "and being a lawyer suits you."
"you really think so?"
"yeah," he nodded, taking a sip of his whiskey. "you looked so cute all dressed up in your little suit," those words make the heat rise on your cheeks, and you hide it with your wine glass. "i've never seen you more in your element. what made you choose law?"
"well…" you trail off, wondering whether or not you should tell him the truth. oh, fuck it. "after we broke up, i found out got into nyu. i was so… mad and hurt over you ending it that i packed my bags and i left, without looking back. during the summers, i stayed here and worked internships with the school just so i'd have an excuse not to go home."
he listened intently, a look of indifference falling across his features. a part of him was hurt at hearing that he'd broken your heart so badly you felt the need to leave, but the other part was proud. you really did that. figured your shit out and made a life for yourself—just like he always knew you would.
"after my second year, i worked an internship with a property management company in brooklyn. we scoped out places all around the city, and i don't know… i kinda just fell in love with it. seeing how happy people got when we'd found them the right apartment or the right space for them to start their business just made me feel really good. so i declared real estate as my major junior year and decided on law school," you continued.
"doll, that's amazing," he smiled, blue eyes twinkling. "which law school did you go to?"
"columbia," you reply, his eyes only widening in amazement. no words could describe the amount of pride in his chest right now. "but enough about me. what about you?"
"oh— uh…" he started and set his whiskey down on the bar. "after you left, i went to rehab. went in and out of that place for about two or three years… i mean, you knew how bad it was— wasn't easy."
you frown upon hearing his struggles with rehab and relapsing, but nod along as he continues.
"been clean for about four years now though," he shrugs, as if it wasn't some big accomplishment.
"rafe, that's amazing," you tell him, setting your glass down on the bar. "good for you."
"i had to," he nodded. "not only for me, but for dad, too. he was starting to talk business and expanding the company, and i just… i couldn't let him down. especially not after i let you down."
you glance down, no longer being able to meet his eyes. you knew that your past together had to come up at one point, you just weren't ready for it. mainly because even after all this time, there was still that little piece of your heart that never stopped belonging to him. it would always be his. "rafe…"
"i hope i'm not being too forward when i ask you this but…" his hand reaches out to touch yours, and you look up at him. "are you seeing anyone?"
"no, i'm not," you shake your head. "after we broke up, i didn't really date much. and even when i did, nothing ever really stuck."
that was enough to have a smile crack across his his, eyes brighter than you'd seen them in a really long time. "guess that makes two of us."
"guess so," you shrug, thoughts running through your mind a hundred times a minute as you try to find a way to change the subject. you weren't ready for where this conversation was about to go. at least, not yet. "but, uh— tell me about cameron development, how's that going?"
he chuckles at your eagerness to change the subject, as you sipped on your wine, but goes with it. he'd break you down again. eventually.
after finishing your drinks at the bar, rafe offered to walk you home since your apartment was only about a block or two away, assuring you that he'd just get a cab back to his hotel afterward.
and while a part of you screamed at you to say no, that little piece of your heart that still beat for him won over, and you agreed.
"well, this is me," you say, stopping in front of your apartment complex and looking at him. "it was really nice to see you, rafe."
"so that's it?" he asks, catching you off guard. "this just ends here?"
he takes a step towards you, making your heart pitter-patter, as his eyes scanned your face.
"rafe-"
"don't you ever wonder…" he cuts you off, his gaze lingering on your lips for just a moment before his eyes shifted to meet yours. "what we could've been? what we could be?"
"i-"
"i know i fucked shit up with you, a'ight?" he said, hand coming up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.
the gesture threatens to make your eyes flutter close at the feeling of his familiar touch, but you keep your composure.
"i was young and i was stupid, and i thought you deserved better," he continued. "but y/n, there isn't a day that has gone by in the last eight years that you haven't crossed my mind. i think about you all the time, just hoping for the day you'd finally come back to the banks."
your breath hitches at his confession, that tiny piece of your heart that held onto him, growing three sizes.
"i know i don't deserve a second chance, i know that," he told you. "but i'm not the guy i was back in high school. i'm clean now, and i've turned my life around. i can be that guy for you now. the one you needed me to be all those years ago."
"okay," you whisper.
"what?" he musn't have heard you right.
"i'd be lying to myself if i said i haven't thought about you either, rafe," you say.
a small chuckle falls from his lips, which spread into a smile. "seriously?"
you nod. "come pick me up at seven tomorrow. let's give it a chance."
part 3 coming soon!!
i'm rooting for them tbh
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27 / 1.7k / spreading rumors about dating Gaz, part 2
⬇ nsfw; mention of revenge porn
...
Gaz doesn't negotiate. He doesn't back down. When the situation calls for it, he knows when it's time to escalate.
That's why he fucks you on your dining room table instead of a public bathroom. Partly because he's not a slag. The idea of you possibly agreeing to do it--of giving him the same ammunition you gave your ex to humiliate you--leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Even if you started rumors and risked his reputation.
A growl rises in his throat at the thought of your ex having the gall to send him that video of you. Christ. What on Earth did you see in him?
Partly, though, he wants to fuck you in your own house so that when he next sees your prat of an ex-boyfriend, he can properly rub it in that fucker's face that you invited him in on the first date.
Or maybe he'll take a picture of your panties in his teeth. He hasn't decided yet.
You're strung out with pleasure, your bare back against the table. You’re caught between wondering why he wanted to fuck you after all and letting every last reservation about it vanish into nothing. You’ve always wanted this. You never thought it would happen.
"Sergeant," you gasp out. "Is this-- what about your reputation--?"
"Don't start." His fingers trail the lines of your body, his eyes fixed on the parts of you he caught only blurry glimpses of in your ex's video. It didn't do you justice.
He wants to pretend there's nothing to this besides convenience--you did owe him. Hell, you wanted to sleep with him. You always made that crystal clear. Now he's just allowing himself to give in to baser impulses like a dog snatching up a rabbit thrown into its path.
But you're right. This will look bad if someone finds out. He should worried, but it's hard to care about that when the thing competing for his attention is the filthy way your pussy swallows him again and again, seeing how slick you leave the base of his cock.
He should've used a condom. He knows for a fact you knew he didn't and you said nothing. He'd tell you off for it now, too, but he's absolutely certain it would just make you cum. The nerve of you.
His hips stutter for a second before he can banish that thought from his mind. He shouldn't like the idea of you being that obsessed. Acting like you'd do anything he asked. Christ, work would be a nightmare if this got out. Him actually sleeping with you. But then again, he suddenly doesn't much like the idea of you finding a different rebound. You'd just be thinking of him anyway, right? Wouldn’t you?
Whatever. He’ll deal with the fallout later. When he's not enjoying your body.
“Who’s going to know?” he murmurs, eyes falling to your chest. “Let it go.”
“Mkay,” you sigh out. There's nothing more you want than to please him right now.
"You'd do anything I asked, wouldn't you." It's not a question. You both know it's true. And he likes that--he hates admitting it, but he does. His eyes drop to your pussy again, and his hips pick up their pace.
You've spent months flirting with him, teasing him about taking you to bed. Now you're getting everything you want. He's right. Why would you care one goddamn second about the consequences? “Anything.”
He hates how needy you sound when you say that. You're too trusting. He's taking advantage of you. Don't you get that?
His grip on your hips tightens, pushing into you more and more roughly. Your moans rise in pitch and he has to grit his teeth.
“Good." He says lowly. "Then you won't tell a soul about this, will you?"
"But--ah, ngh..." You bite your lip as he stops thrusting and grinds himself into you. You gyrate your hips, needing friction. "But people already think we're together."
“Do they? That’s a bold claim.” You're overestimating how many people believe silly rumors. Besides, it's hardly your concern anymore. He lays his palms flat on the table on either side of you, bracing himself. Your skin is so soft; your neck tempts him, but he restrains himself. "You're keeping your mouth shut from now on, yeah?"
You let out a sound of frustration as he slows even further. You try to push your hips harder against his. "Sergeant, please!"
"You want this, don't you?" His voice is chilled, but the heat in his eyes as he stares down at your bucking hips is hardly discouraging. "You'll want it again. You'll keep wanting it."
"Ugh, yes," you snap, squeezing your thighs fruitlessly around his toned waist.
"As long as you don't tell a soul about this, I’ll see to it that you get what you want," he growls. "Not your team, your friends, your stupid ex. No one."
You open your mouth to question him again, but he pulls away and snaps his hips hard into yours. Whatever you were about to say dissolves into a string of semi-coherent affirmations. Yes, you'll keep it quiet. Yes, you'll pretend none of this ever happened. Yes, you'll never use his name on base again. Anything he wants. Just don't stop.
"Good girl. Good girl..." Easy enough. Now that he knows how to get his way with you, you shouldn't be such a problem anymore. He can’t help but be a little greedy, though. "You're not going to fuck anyone else, either."
"Never!"
He grunts in approval. "And you'll never--and I mean never --try to get back with your ex. Understand? You'll stay away from him."
You writhe and plead, winding your arms around his shoulders. He grabs your wrists and pins them to the table, the muscles in his arms taut.
"Do. You. Understand?" His voice comes down on you like low thunder, all around you.
"Yes!"
"Good. I'll know if you do. Mm…" His breathing grows shallow. Your heat is impossibly tight, and tightening up even more. He squeezes your wrists. "You going to cum?"
"C-Can I?" you breathe out. "Please, can I cum?"
His hips stutter and he has to close his eyes for a moment. God, he's never been tested like this.
"Sergeant, please!"
"Cum," he says, the word short and sharp like gunfire. "Cum on my cock. Right now."
He presses his thumb to your clit and you wail, clenching around him like you haven't cum in weeks. Your body rolls, practically convulses, your head knocking against your dining table as you arch up. He lets out a snarl, not slowing down despite how painfully tight you squeeze him.
Once you come down from the high, his pace never slowing, your swollen core twitches and spasms with overstimulation. You cry out, but you make yourself stay in place. You want to keep making him feel good. You want to make him feel better than he ever has.
"Cum inside me," you pant out. "I-I'm on birth control. You can-- please--"
"You're a liar," he growls through clenched teeth even as he picks up his pace.
"I promise," you plead. Even if you're a liar, and you are, you're not lying about this. God, you want him to do it so bad you can feel yourself clench up again at the thought.
You're teetering on the edge of another orgasm when he pulls out, spilling his load across your chest and stomach instead.
You clench down on nothing, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction even as your orgasm ebbs out of reach. You let your head fall back onto the table, your breathing heavy. You don't see his eyes running over you, deliberating.
"Sergeant?"
"Mm?"
"Do you maybe want my phone number?" Almost seems like a silly question. He has your address now anyway.
"Hm." He pulls away, picking up your discarded purse from the mess of clothes on the floor. He pulls out your phone and opens your texts, types in his number, and sends himself a quick message. Then he finds your conversation with your ex-boyfriend. His eyes narrow. The last texts exchanged were earlier tonight. And you started it. You told him you were out to dinner with someone else. Just to get a rise out of your ex. It obviously worked.
That's okay, he figures, opening the menu and blocking your ex's number. If there's one person he does want to know about this, it's that arsehole. Maybe now he'll stay away from you.
You sit up. "Kyle?"
His eyes meet yours, steady and unwavering. "Yeah?"
"Were you serious?"
"I was."
"Even about coming over again?"
"I mean every word I say.” He hands your phone back to you and begins to get dressed.
You watch him, grasping the edge of the table. "When will you be back?"
"My squad leaves on assignment tomorrow. Don't know how long it'll be." He zips up and grabs his t-shirt. "I'll text you."
"Right, right." You suppress a sigh. "Always got a job to do."
He slings his coat over his shoulder, then pauses. He knows he shouldn't, but he can't help but reach his hand out to your cheek. He runs the back of his finger over your jawline. Then he disguises the tender gesture by gripping your chin and pulling it up so you're looking him in the eye.
"Behave," he tells you, voice low. "No sleeping around. No flirting of any kind. Is that clear?"
Your heart pounds. You swallow and nod.
"Good," he says, holding your gaze a moment longer.
As he leaves, closing the door behind him, he curses himself.
This is not a good idea. What's he trying to do, fix you? Stupid, stupid, stupid. This isn't going to end well. You're not good for him. But damn if he doesn't feel more satisfied than he has in years.
He has no choice. If he wants you to behave, he'll have to keep your eyes on him. Whether he’s on base or not.
...
part 1 / [part 2]
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l4zyb0n35 · 3 days
Text
THE BREAKING POINT
SMUT FIC
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PAIRING: Alastor x F!Reader
SUMMARY: Y/N is a diligent worker, much to the chagrin of her partner, Alastor. Despite his efforts to get her to stop for both their sakes, Y/N remains steadfast in her duties. However, Alastor finds a loophole to this situation.
WARNINGS: Really really great awesome writing skills, Established romantic relationship, (can be seen as dating, fiancé, or married), AFAB reader, usage of Y/N, Sexual content (obv), Mature themes, Mature language, Nudity, Breastfeeding, Unprotected sex, MINORS DNI FOR UR OWN SAFTEY, Alastor manipulates her but only to get her to stop cleaning the hardwood floor, Alastor kinda controls her but not too much. Let me know if i missed anything :3
NOTICE: please don't copy or steal or translate any of my work or you will be haunted in your dreams and i will spawn something unpleasant at your porch the next day. But...thanks for liking my work !! >.<
WORDS: 2.4k
Requests are open, support is highly appreciated!
〰ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ..。.:*・゚♫₊ ♪ *♬‧₊enjoy!~
You were a very hardworking woman around the hotel, to say the least.
Your excuse? “Well, Charlie is just dealing with so much, what’s my help going to harm but not… help?”
Ever since your dear partner, Alastor, invited you to live with him in his hotel room at the Hazbin Hotel, just to be closer as a couple,
You would not stop fucking working.
It’s driving him mad.
He has recently tried everything to get you to relax, to take it easy for once, but you were too stubborn for that. He couldn’t even believe how much work you did for such a small pay. It was honestly ridiculous since you weren’t even a maid, if that was what you were thinking.
So what if you were a bit of a clean freak, it wasn’t any reason to clean the entire damn hotel every day, including the outside, may we add.
You wouldn’t listen to his advice though, no matter how many times he told you to stop.
“Y/N, I swear if you keep cleaning the hotel I’m gonna…do something very bad,” he threatened one day while you were scrubbing down the lobby.
You chuckled, ignoring his threat.
“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart, m’ not gonna lose a limb.” you said with a smile.
Alastor sighed, watching as you continued to scrub the floors.
“You’re just being stubborn, Y/N,” he mumbled under his breath.
‘My last resort, I suppose.’ he concluded in his thoughts, looking around to make sure nobody would hear them.
After making sure that they were alone at the scene, he walked back over to you, trying to fix his composure.
“…When will you come back to bed with me, dear? It’s been cold without you.” Alastor said, kneeling down to her level as he put on his fake facade.
You paused for a moment and turned to him, “Aw, Al, you miss my spot being filled in the bed?” You said, rubbing his shoulder.
He nodded, “It’s never the same without you, I’m afraid.” He tried to soften his smile.
“…You’re not just saying that, right?” You said, losing your smile and pausing your hand.
“What? No-no. I would never lie to you dear.” He said, defending himself.
“…When do you want me in bed, hm?” You said, picking up your supplies and ignoring your suspicions, “I need to shower, after all.” You added.
Alastor stood up, “Now?” He asked, trying to sound hopeful.
“Mm, sure.” You nodded, walking off with your bucket of cleaning supplies.
He silently celebrated his victory.
* * *
Alastor’s ears perked up as he heard the shower turn off.
He was currently laying in bed with only a robe on and some boxers, staring off into the bayou and he brainstormed what he could do to get you to stop working.
He decided a couple minutes ago that his only option left were to ‘have intercourse’.
It was quite smart, actually. All he had to do was take your ability to walk.
So he waited as your blow dried your hair, trying to ignore his unpleasant boner from beneath the cloth of his boxers.
He waited even more when you picked which robe to wear to bed,
which, as you stepped out the steamy chamber, was a red silk robe with Alastor’s initials on it, your favorite.
He had a smug look on his face, seeing you step out in his clothing.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were waiting for me.” You said, seeing Alastor sitting up in bed.
He smiled at you, “No worries, dear,” he said, standing up and putting his hands on your hips.
“I was just waiting for you to come to bed.” He said, bringing his lips close to yours.
You laughed softly, pulling back after a moment, “What’s the occasion, dear?” You rested your forehead on his, closing your eyes.
“Hmm?” He asked, confused.
“Why are you acting so lovey-dovey with me? Is it Valentine’s Day already?” You laughed again, resting your head against his chest.
“Oh, don’t act so surprised, darling.” He said, leaning forward and kissing your temple.
“But, really, what’s the occasion?” You asked, moving back to give him space.
“Well…” He said, thinking quickly, “I figured you deserved a break after all of that hard work you put in recently.” He said, smiling again.
“Oh, your so sweet, Al.” You commented, caressing his cheek.
He leaned into your touch, “Yes…so i decided, what better to do so than taking your ability to walk for the next morning?” He sighed sweetly.
You paused, “…forget about Valentine’s day, did rut season come early?” You said, raising an eyebrow.
Alastor grinned, “It’ll definitely feel like it.” He said, grabbing your waist and laid you flat on the bed.
He moved down to your neck, kissing and suckling on it.
“Alastor…” You laughed out softly, more in a mumble.
“…Sshh, just let me do my thing, okay?” He whispered in your ear, continuing into your neck until he was sure to leave a mark, latching off of it with a ‘pop’.
He then made his way down, stopping at your breasts, cupping them in his hands and giving each nipple a gentle tug before resting his lips onto one of them.
He sucked and nibbled on it, moving to the other breast and doing the same.
He stopped, hearing you moan quietly under him, “Are you enjoying yourself?” He asked, looking up at your face.
“Oh, yes,” you gasped out, feeling your legs go weak as you lay there, “Keep going.” You added, running your fingers through his hair.
Alastor smiled, continuing to kiss your breasts until he felt you get wetter and wetter.
He sat up, sliding your robe off of you and throwing it somewhere across the room, leaving you in just your panties.
His eyes widened a bit at the sight of your body, “How did i end up with a sinner so beautiful.” He said, resting his head on your stomach, giving the fat of your hip a squeeze.
He ran his hands up and down your thighs, stopping at your panties and pulled them off of you, tossing them aside.
He then spread your legs apart and started to rub your clit gently with his thumb.
You let out a soft moan as you let out a jolt throughout your body from the contact, “F-fuck…” You breathed.
Alastor smiled and brought his free hand to your mouth, “Lick.” He commanded, placing his index finger on your tongue.
You obeyed, tasting your juices on his fingers.
He swiftly pulled the claw out your mouth, then slowly slipping two of them into your gummy walls.
You moaned out again as he curled his fingers inside you, thrusting them in and out of your hole.
He pulled his fingers out of you, sucking them clean as he moved your body to the center of the bed, sitting on his knees atop of you.
“Now,” he grabbed your left left, throwing it stop his shoulder, “You know the safe word, dear?” He said, grabbing ahold of his member and teasing your entrance with it.
You nodded, moving your hips for some more friction.
“Needy, I see…” You pulled his cock farther from her, “I need words, dear.”
“Y-yes, Alastor…” You struggled out.
He started to fist his member slowly, “Wouldn’t want to hurt my prized possession.”
After a moment, he pulled his hand away to put another leg up on his shoulder, scooting in and rubbing his duck along your slick folds.
“O-oh….” You breathed out as his meat hit your nub, “P-Put it in, Al…” You mumbled.
“Hm, what was that?” He stoped his member, resting it upon your nub as a tease.
You bit your lip, grinding against his dick, desperate for him to put it in.
He chuckled, pulling it back, making you stop.
You let out a whimper.
Alastor looked at you with a lustful look, his smile widening. “I need you to beg for it, dear.” He claimed, enjoying the moment.
You blushed, looking away for a moment.
Alastor tilted his head, grabbing his member again and started fisting it slowly.
You gulped, looking back at him, still not meeting his gaze, and whispered something incoherent.
He grasped your chin, turning it so you would look at him. “What’s wrong dear? losing interest in my so suddenly?” He said, making you shake your head, “Hm…then beg for it.”
"Please, Alastor, put yourself inside of me, fill me up, fuck me, please!” You begged, moving your hips for a feeling.
He stopped your hips, growling as he pushed himself inside of you without any warning, making you moan loudly.
“F-fuck…” you cursed from the sudden movement, trying to squirm away automatically.
Alastor noticed this, pausing his movement as he grabbed your arms, then your hips and waist, getting you to stop, “What’s wrong dear?”
You looked at him, “…k-kiss me?”
He smiled softly, “Anything for my doe.” he said, leaning down and kissing you directly on the mouth.
Although, as he leaned down, his dick moved further inside you, causing you to let out a jolt once again.
He caressed your hair, “It’s already in, dear,” he mumbled lovingly on your lips, “you’ve done your work, now just relax. I’ll do everything else.”
Waiting until you nodded, he pulled away and slowly began to pull out, before thrusting in swiftly, but gently.
You whimpered softly, gripping the sheets under you.
He pulled out and pushed in again, slowly building a rhythm.
He began to thrust faster, more cruel, “Oh, Alastor…” you moaned out, holding your hands around his neck.
Wet skin slapping together filled the room’s noises, alongside the crickets in the bayou, making you blush from the awkward noises.
Alastor noticed this, beginning to buff out his breaths and growls, and silently sent over his shadow to turn on the radio to a quiet, intimate jazz station.
“Hah…Alastor…” You breathed out as he shushed you, thrusting faster.
His cock rubbed against your walls, hitting all the right spots.
After a while, Alastor started to feel a familiar coil in his abdomen, grunting as he forced his hips to go at an ungodly pace, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.
“Gonna fuck you so good, darling…” He huffed, “Fill you up…you won’t be leaving this bed, understand?” Making you look at him directly and he moved your head with a tendril.
“Y-yes, Alastor…” You mumbled, trying to hold eye contact.
“Good girl…” He awarded verbally, growing another tendril into sight as he moved it down to run your clit, getting a high pitched moan out of you.
“F-faster, Al…I feel it…” You tightened your legs on him, tensing up.
As your tits bounced up and down from the thrusts, you couldn’t help but have to cover them because of the breeze from the bayou-
“No,” he immediately said, lifting one of his hands from clawing at the sheets and placing your hands around his neck, immediately diving down to suckle on your breasts.
“O-oh, yes!” You cried out, feeling his tongue circle around your nubs as he switched between the two.
You groaned as you felt the familiar coil in your abdomen grow after a couple thrusts, “I’m g-gonna cum soon, Al…” You scratched at his back in pleasure, trying to chase at your orgasm.
That’s when he didn’t switch to another breast, but kept sucking on one of them, rubbing and squeezing the other with his hand, making you wonder what he was doing,
Until you felt some milk come out of them.
“Ah-Ah! Alastor! I’m close!” You said, your legs shaking violently as you felt the intensity of him suck and squeeze milk out of you.
He growled, fastening his pace even more, making them even more tougher and he enter and exited your womb space, “Come for me, darling, let me hear you sing for me…”
His dirty talk only got you closer and closer to your edge, until,
You threw your head back into the mattress, arching your back as you let out a blissful cry of pleasure, clenching around him as you rode your orgasm, struggling to even keep your eyes open.
Alastor let out a beastly growl as his form quickly morphed to a more intimidating one as he shoved he cock into you one last time, releasing his seed inside you.
His cum leaked out of you as he slowly pulled out, quickly stuffing his fingers inside your hole so the cum would stay.
“What a good little for you are to me…” He said, admiring the mess you both made on the bed, and then just you laying there.
Noticing how you were still breathing heavily, not moving your body unless a little twitch, he leaned down to whisper softly, “How about some cold water, dear? Think this’ll help you relax?” He asked dotingly, making you nod instantly.
That made him chuckle, moving over to the edge of the bed as he stood up, going over to the nightstand and placing a water pitcher there from the shadows, and walking over the the bathroom for a towel.
***
As he came back from the bathroom with a hot rag in the hand, he noticed how you were half asleep, yet still conscious, which made him laugh softly as he place the rag down by the pitcher, crawling over to you.
“Mon Cher, you’re all fucked out by yours truly.” He smiled softly, fetching the rag from the nightstand with his shadow as he began to wipe your cunt clean.
When he was done, he then took notice of your breasts, how there were some stray milk on them.
Shrugging and tossing the rag aside, he leaned down and softly licked the milk off your chest.
You giggled softly in your daze, “Alastor…” You rubbed your eyes.
When he finished up, he filled a glass of water from the pitcher and turned back to you, sitting you up gently as he tipped the glass of water to your lips.
“Think you’ll be walking tomorrow?” He wondered aloud.
“Hm…will you stay with me here if i don’t?” You asked as you finished your glass.
He placed the cup down, “Of course dear,” he promised, crawling under the sheets beside you, sending his shadow to turn off the lights in the room as he cuddled close to your fragile state,
“Sleep well, dear.”
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END NOTES: I LEARNED HOW TO SPELL AWKWARD FROM WRITING THIS LETS FUCKING GO!!!! All jokes aside, (not really, now clap), i hope this fic actually turns out well because i spent 5 minutes trying to copy and paste this into a word counter and then 2 more minutes pasting this fic here because my phone sucks and it’s broken and i hate it and abuse it but like…i just hope it does well. I (hypothetically) put blood sweat and TEARS into this fic and idgaf what you think because it’s amazing for a first fic on this blog. Notes and comments, maybe even reblogs *wink wink* and also REQUESTS!!! Requests are my best friend, and always open unless I’m on vacation (which i’ll always announce). I love you guys ^^ !!
-Lynn Lazybones
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MASTERLIST LINK
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rxmqnova · 1 day
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WandNat x daughter please.
R's mothers try to ween us off our pacifier/ thumb sucking because the dentist says it's making our teeth crooked. We don't take it well and throw tantrums and make a scene (both in the compound and out in public) , after nearly a month of a seriously cranky kid on their hands. A very sleep deprived Wanda gets an idea. She uses her magic to make a pacifier substitute that doesn't damage our teeth, and even though Natasha is grateful that we finally go to sleep that night she's annoyed the other woman didn't think of it sooner.
Thanks 👍
Not tired
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Y/N: 3 years old Wanda: Mommy Natasha: Mama ——————————————————
NO ONE'S POV "Y/N" Wanda sighs, her hands resting on her hips as she's looking down at her toddler daughter.
Y/N shoots her head up, looking back at her mommy who doesn't look really happy about seeing her daughter with a thumb in her mouth again.
Wanda and Natasha only just weaned their daughter off her pacifier, yet the little girl started sucking her thumb instead which, as the dentist confirmed last week, is bad for her teeth.
"Hi, mommy" Y/N smiles, lifting her arms up for Wanda who sighs once again and sits the tiny girl on her hip.
Y/N automatically brings her thumb up to her mouth on which Wanda takes it out with another sigh.
"Mommy" Y/N whines, burying her head into the crock of Wanda's neck.
"Honey, it's bad for your teeth" Wanda explains, receiving another whine as Y/N starts sucking on her other thumb. "Y/N, no" Wanda looks at her daughter sternly, taking her thumb out of her mouth again which only results in tears. "Okay, and now we're crying"
"Baby, you're a big girl now, aren't you?" Wanda questions, sitting down on the bed with Y/N on her lap.
The toddler just lets out a little sniffle, nodding her head as she looks up at her mommy.
"Big girls don't have binkies anymore, do they?" Wanda raises an eyebrow on which Y/N shakes her head no. "That's right. So when Y/N's a big girl now, she doesn't need a binky. Do you remember what the dentist said last week?" Once again Y/N shakes her head.
"He said that Y/N can't suck her thumb either because it's really bad for her teeth. We don't want Y/N's teeth to be crooked, do we?" Wanda asks, but this is not what Y/N wanted to hear.
The tiny girl buries her head into Wanda's chest, letting out more tears on which Wanda sighs and rubs her daughter's back, hoping it would calm her down.
–––
"Mama" Y/N whines, following Natasha like a lost puppy while the redhead's making breakfast for both of them.
"Mama" Y/N repeats, lifting her arms up in the air and hoping Natasha would get the hint.
"Honey, I'll give you a cuddle right when I finish making breakfast for us" Natasha sighs which only makes Y/N whine more.
It's been nearly a month since Y/N's pacifier was taken away and the tiny girl just can't get used to it.
Both, Natasha and Wanda, haven't slept through a whole night since then, they're so incredibly tired, especially since Y/N's cranky every single day.
"Up, mama" Y/N whines once again, jumping up and down with her arms up in front of Natasha, her eyes watery.
"Y/N, come here" Wanda sighs, stepping into the kitchen.
Natasha let her sleep in after another sleepless night, yet Wanda knows it's not easy to do more things at one time when Y/N's in her mood. She just can't let her wife deal with it alone.
Y/N shuffles over to Wanda, her arms still up in the air. With a sigh the brunette lifts her tiny daughter up and sits her on her hip, Y/N finally happy she got what she wanted and can cuddle now.
"You could've stayed in bed and get some more sleep. We'd be okay here" Natasha says, giving her wife a smile.
"I know and thank you, but I can't just leave you here alone with our grumpy daughter" Wanda smiles back. "What do you say, baby? Do you want to take a little nap?" She turns her attention back to her daughter, tucking a strand of hair behind her little ear.
"Nooo, Y/N not tired" Y/N whines, her head buried in Wanda's neck, though the brunette knows her daughter's absolutely exhausted.
Wanda gives Natasha a look, silently telling her she's going to try put Y/N to sleep. She carries Y/N into her bedroom, rocking her back and forth, and hoping Y/N would just fall asleep on the way to the room.
"No ni-night, mommy" Y/N whines as soon as Wanda reaches the bedroom.
Wanda sighs, sitting down on bed with Y/N on her lap. And with another sigh, she rests her forehead against her daughter's head.
She tries to think of something that would get her daughter to sleep and then suddenly an idea pops up in her mind… She has magic.
With a swing of her hand, she uses her magic and creates a red pacifier looking, but not exactly pacifier thing as a substitute for the real one.
With that Y/N finally closes her eyes, peacefully sucking on her new pacifier and finally allowing herself to fall asleep.
Wanda lets out a long breath when she places her now finally sleeping daughter on bed and pulls up the covers to cover her small body.
"You okay here?" Natasha whispers, appearing in the room.
"Yeah, she's sleeping" Wanda smiles at her wife while pointing at the little sleeping trouble.
Natasha's eyes widen when she notices the new pacifier Y/N has, wondering why hasn't Wanda done that earlier, so they could sleep normally instead of walking around the house in the middle of the night with a grumpy child in their arms.
"Wanda, are you kidding me? You couldn't have think of this sooner??"
----------------------
WandaNat masterlist
Masterlist
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rosesdrop · 2 days
Text
Pick a pile
Who are they as a person?
(Pick from left to right)
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Pile 1:
The person you're inquiring about values honesty and straight-forwardness more than anything else; they're someone who likes to wear good clothes, put some perfume on, take care of their hygiene, and appear as their best version. They do care about how they look in other people's eyes. This person may have cat eyes. They like to analyse other people; they can be a bit judgy. They like to take other people's views and opinions into consideration. This person likes to end up with the best solution possible, so they're not actually quick on acting on things; they like to sit, contemplate, take different points into consideration, and then decide how to act. They're controversial in a way where they care about others outlook in a situation where they can become a sheep in the herd, and other times they listen only to their thoughts when deciding on something. This person believes in taking what is theirs and what is considered their right by every means possible. Air signs, capricorn.
 Pile 2:
This person is very artistic and creative; they have a genius about them; they're youthful in spirit, mostly joyous and lively; they're people who believe in friendships and like to form strong emotional bonds with other people. They're very sensitive, and they take criticism to heart. They care about other people, and they don't want their loved ones to be hurt. They mostly think of other people's feelings before doing something. I see that they're mostly introverted and secretive. Because of their emotional nature, they could worry about things that aren't always that grave. They sometimes have trouble discerning good from bad people; they could have gotten backstabbed several times before, so they started being more careful now about who they let into their circle. They're not very serious people; they like to explore and question everything. They like to be free. Although they're a bit introverted, they like to have company, they like to express the way they feel, they're good with words, and they like to show how they feel using body language as well. They get easily irritated; their emotions can get a hold on them sometimes. Pisces, Scorpio, and Sag.
 Pile 3:
This person likes to make deals and they're really good at what they do. This person is too involved in their senses and in things that are going on around them at their work, in their business, in whatever they do; they're skilled at it, but they're stuck with their all in there. If they don't get what they're aiming for, then they get really competitive and forceful. They're very competitive people; if they see something they like, they want it; they like the finer things in life; they want to reach their goals. They are generally complicated and layered people; their intentions are not easily known, and they're not open about themselves. They're generally not clear because of the competition around them and the battle going on inside them. Gemini, Leo, and fire signs. They are pretty aware of how cruel the world can get. 
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yorutsuki · 2 days
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You're cooked. Now write boothill.
「 ✦ Metal Tension ✦ 」
↳ Boothill, an optimistic and unrestrained cowboy—a galaxy ranger just so happens to be looking for a specific emanator though runs into you. Unfortunately, tension forms quickly.
[ gender neutral reader; they/them ]
Tags:
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Light clangs and clunks echoed softly around the grounds of Penacony. His hair swaying lightly behind him along with his cape—while his metal body reflected the bright lights of the city.
"The Dreamscape..." Boothill breathed, taking in the sights of the bubbly, lit scenery.
The cowboy was drawn into Penacony in search for a specific emanator roaming about. He heard, from a memokeeper, that she would be found traveling besides an Astral Express crew. Hence, that would be his first step; to track them down.
It wasn't hard to track the group down, considering their popularity throughout the scape. With a few conversations with the residences and locals, he easy found one of the passengers—you.
Currently you were seated in a bar, a glass of paper moon near you while you skimmed through your phone.
Your head perked up as you heard a low rasped chuckle near you.
"You must be the famous {Y/n}?" He spoke, a light sly smile plastering his lips. "May I sit?" He asked, signaling to the seat next to you.
Your expression showed confusion but nonetheless you nodded both to the question and request, signaling a 'go ahead'. "Yep, that's me. Do you need something?" You sighed, popping the 'p' before taking a sip of your drink.
The ranger hummed, "a paper moon? That's a hell of a drink, isn't it?" He raised his brow, ignoring your question.
You nodded, setting down your glass. "A chaotic and busy week." You huffed, recalling the events you endured recently—still feeling some bruising from some of them.
The galaxy cowboy ranger nodded in acknowledgement, setting his arms, crossed on the table. You glanced over to him skeptically. "Well then, I told you my name, I think it's only right you introduce yourself." You spoke, taking another sip.
"Eager huh? Names' Boothill." He smirked, placing his head to one of his palms.
"Well then, Boothill, what are you exactly here for?" You asked once again, sighing—not wanting to beat around the bush. You knew the man wasn't here just for a idle chat.
You heard the cyborg chuckle at your straightforwardness, "Observant. Well, i'm here looking for a emanator who goes by the name, Acheron."
You furrowed your brows, "why?" You questioned.
if you weren't beating around the bush, then it should be an even playing field, no?
Boothill's sly smirk turned into a light smile of menace. "To eliminate her."
You hummed in thought before gulping down the rest of your drink, grabbing your phone and leaving the bar.
Boothill frowned for a moment though his signature smirk appeared once more before he himself stood up, trailing after you.
"I don't think you know what your dealing with." He spoke, shaking his head. You however, were pretty sure you knew the risks of Acheron tagging along. "I-the crew has seen her potential power already, as well as her persona in general. Maybe not at the fullest but it's safe to say we know enough to trust her currently." You answered, recalling the information that the crew and her had exchanged during the time together.
"-though that can't be said for you." You halted with you movement, glancing towards him with furrowed brows. Boothill raised a brow, his eyes glancing over to you as well, his expression plastering the same amused expression.
"Look here darlin', i'm here for one objective. I'm not here to make enemies with the express—that would be meaningless and a waste of both sides' time." He hummed. "So if you could just give me even a slight clue of where the emanator is, i'll be on my way." He shrugged, resting a hand on his hip.
You shook your head lightly, "I can't, I don't know where she is. She pops in and out—here and there at times." You informed, crossing your arms, replicating his sass. "Besides, I believe your the one who hasn't a clue what they're dealing with." You glared at him.
Boothill returned the glare, though before any words could be uttered, a sudden wave of fire split the tension as both of you were quick to dodge it.
Looking to your side, you were faced with a Dreamjolt gorilla and overcooked, along with some other low enemies.
You grit your teeth while the ranger's smirk only grew wider at the new challenge. Though before he could even process, you were already taking action—taking swift and agile turns, aiming and destroying the mechanics' weak spots to which they crumbled into ash upon.
Within under a minute, the enemies were nothing but ash in the wind.
You had returned back to your spot like nothing happened, only a few breathes here and there. You looked towards the man, a brow raised as you felt a pair of eyes watching your every move. "You need something?"
The galaxy ranger looked away, almost in thought. "Those moves...they're familiar.." He stated, looking to the ground before glancing back at you. "Where did you learn them?"
Your eyes turned soft only for a second as you grinned slightly. "The emanator. She was kind enough to lend me some tips." You smirked but quickly replaced it was a neutral face.
Boothill's gaze went surprised only for a split second before turning into a sly cocky look. "Well, would ya look at that. Y'know Acheron doesn't just teach anyone her knowledge." He smirked before leaning near your ear. "You must be a pretty special thing then." He laughed before retreating back.
Your words got caught in your throat. You knew it was a teasing comment but thats what stunt you.
You mumbled something inaudible before your phone pinged. "Oh? Is that the rest of your crew?" He chuckled, peeking over towards your screen. You glanced towards him and back, nodding.
A few moments passed before your phone vanished into your inventory, specks of dust in place of it's disappearance. With a huff, you look towards the metal man, "well, i'm guessing we'll be seeing each other around, unfortunately." You shook your head much to your dismay.
Boothill smirked, "Of coarse. I look forward to our next run in—and how knows?" He shrugged, leaning forward, "maybe you can teach me some of those tricks, eh?"
You give a grimaced smile, "keep dreaming. This is the dreamscape after all." With that you waved a flimsy 'cya' before leaving.
Though if you stayed just a bit longer, you would've seen the cowboy ranger's cheeks tinted with a pink hue as he let out a airy laugh. "till we cross paths again."
.
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A/N: I barely know about Boothill than whats already present. Hence, I apologize if its short and out of character TxT.
(I have no clue for a title)
[Random] While writing this, I read the most well executed, tear making, well written, heart warming, angsty af fanfic of a Michealangelo x reader (TMNT), I highly reccomend checking it out if you like TMNT-specifically mikey and angst :)
"Hearts Over Head (Michealangelo x Reader Fanfiction)" - Sophfandoms53
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Thinking thoughts about Abuela being back and with this backstory about her being taken in by charlatans and Eddies whole catholic guilt thing and how the two things kind of play into one another as an exploration of faith and being taken in by something.
Abuela giving all her money to the tarot card readers etc because she was searching for something - for connection (with Abuelo) - trying to recapture what she had lost, and How Eddie has spoken about trying to re-find the magic he had with Shannon - how Eddie hasn't actually fully reconciled the Shannon of it all when it comes to relationships and how his Catholic guilt connects into that.
How Marisol as a physical representation of Catholicism is part of that narrative - how Eddie is entering a place where he has to chose his path - in order to move on from Shannon he needs to fully square the hole - catholic or non catholic. And how that needs to happen first - before he can begin his queer journey!
#this is so incoherant#I'm also thinking about how Marisol fits into this narrative and how this idea of being taken in or fooled by a person plays into what we#know of her - how she wasn't upfront with Eddie (not saying she had to be right from the off but before moving in!!!) - how she is kind of#representative of secrets - especially around faith and ones connection with faith because she is essentially a stand in for catholicism#which (sorry to all the catholics out there) peddles in magic and secrets in order to keep the mystery of faith alive and therefore keep#people believing. How Eddie's reckoning with himself and the ghost of Shannon ultimately means choosing either to follow the path of#catholicism or non catholicism#How Marisol is a tie to religion and therefore his reasons for not having successful relationships after her (or even with her) and how#Eddie letting go will ultimately mean letting go of Marisol - how he can never fully move forward while catholicism still lingers#how I don't' think we'll be seeing the queer aspect of this narrative this season - that dealing with this first part is key and only once#he has figured it out can he then be free to know himself - is true self better - and accept and move into his full self as a queer man#so yeah - catholic guilt arc 7b and 8a - as its really a two parter - finally dealing with the remnants of Shannon - and its connection wit#his faith and then when truly free of that exploring his queerness!#So yeah - Marisol will possibly be here until towards the end of the season because she is meant to be the trigger point for Eddie in#relation to Shannon - its why they made the difference (and similarities) between S and M very obvious in 7x01#they have the time to build this story arc more fully now with the s8 renewal - to do it justice and unfortunately as part of that it means#she'll probably be around longer than any of us would like!#I don't know if I even make sense at this point#but I do want to reitterate that the show is goig out of its way to contrast her with Buck as well#to really show how close and right for each other Buck and Eddie are so no one needs to panic - she's here for the narrative not forever!#911 abc#911 spoilers#eddie diaz
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matchakuracat · 1 day
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chronically ill/physically disabled people, how do you deal with doctors appointments? what do you say/do to advocate for yourself? im autistic and not diagnosed with a chronic illness yet and i really struggle to know what to say to get them to listen to me and understand so that i can get the help and care i need. even if i bring someone with me, they also need to know what to say and i don't know anyone who understands well enough to explain to the doctor for me, which means that i have to tell them what to say before going. but that's the problem since i just don't know.
i have chronic joint pain that ive had for years but has only gotten worse over time. i also have hypermobile knees which are the worse they've ever been right now. i'm chronically fatigued and barely have the energy to eat and do basic hygiene. i have a few friends that i talk to fairly regularly and im very thankful for them but i still struggle so much with maintaining a social life when i cant even maintain my own physical wellbeing. i only go outside when i absolutely have to/when my pain is low enough and i have enough energy. on average i probably leave my house about once or twice a week, usually to go to medical appointments, to an internship i have once a week or to go grocery shopping. i usually try to do both at the same time if i can (like going grocery shopping after my internship) but most of the time i have to ask my parents to get me groceries since i dont have enough energy to. all i want is to be able to go outside just to take short walks and enjoy nature and the fresh air but i can't do so without the right treatment/a mobility aid. everything im doing right now is bordering the line of too much. im constantly tired and overwhelmed and everything feels like a struggle, even the smallest tasks most people do everyday without thinking twice about it.
i have almost only had bad experiences with doctors and other medical professionals like physiotherapists, which has given me a lot of extra anxiety on top of my already pretty bad social anxiety. i really struggle to make appointments and even more so to go to them, and when i bring myself to do so i really struggle to express myself and explain how i feel and how i want them to help me. i almost always get shut down and offered no actual help with any of my problems. i just don't know what to do anymore.
if anyone has any advice i'd really appreciate it. i know that i can't give up because my life right now without accommodations is too miserable, but i also don't know how to move forward.
sorry if this was hard to understand. i really tried my best to explain but im having a bit of a hard time expressing myself right now due to feeling worse than usual.
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