#doesn't work for everything but it's worth a shot
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SSR Ruggie Bucchi - Platinum Jacket Vignette
"Happy 100th Anniversary"
[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]
Ruggie: Can't believe I'm here bein' a supporter for some museum like this. Guess ya never know what life's got in store for ya.
Ruggie: I mean, I totally wouldn't've ever paid to see paintings that I can't even fill my belly with…
Ruggie: But I guess it's okay if I don't gotta pay. I wonder if they got paintings I've seen in my textbooks.
???: This painting… These are the hyenas from the King of Beast's legends. When the three of them are lined up like this it's kind of intimidating…
Ruggie: Well, yeah, they were out there patrollin' lava quarries 'n goin' out on scoutin' missions, so.
Trey: You sure know your stuff, Ruggie. I guess that would make sense for a hyena beastman to know.
Trey: But still… Both patrolling and scouting seems like painstaking work.
Ruggie: Oh, yeah. From the stories I've heard, they had some pretty tight scrapes…
Ruggie: Like there's one where while they were out chasin' some stubborn foe, they ended up runnin' off a cliff tryin' to catch 'em…
Ruggie: Which had 'em endin' up flyin' into some real prickly thickets.
Trey: If it were me, I'd probably hesitate, worried about getting hurt. Guess the hyenas who worked under the King of Beasts were just that brave.
Ruggie: Brave? Then I guess I'll take that compliment, too. 'Cause I've jumped into thorny thickets like that a buncha times!
Trey: You've jumped into the thorny thickets…? A bunch of times!? Why would you do that…?
Ruggie: Actually, did you know? In the Sunset Savanna, there's this real steep cliff that's become a bit of a tourist attraction.
Ruggie: It's the perfect place to catch the settin' sun, so a ton of tourists go up there to snap a pic, leanin' over the fences 'n everything.
Ruggie: And like, sometimes there's folk that'll get so focused on settin' up the shot, or that'll bump into others that they'll drop and lose stuff.
Trey: I'd expect they'd have to let their stuff go if they dropped it off the cliff… But how does this all tie into you talking about the thorny thickets??
Ruggie: Sheeheehee. So actually, at the bottom of that cliff, there's a huge bramble of thorny thickets.
Ruggie: It's off-limits, and it's pretty dangerous, so no one really heads down there.
Ruggie: So, that's why I'd sneak down in the dead of night, and pick up all the lost items!
Ruggie: Sometimes I'd find little wrapped pieces of candy, watches 'n accessories, and even wallets!
Ruggie: Well, it kinda depended week to week what dropped, but… That was a great way to make some quick cash.
Trey: B-But if you had gotten injured, would all that have been worth it?
Ruggie: Yeah, true. Back when I was just a kid, I could slip in 'n out pretty easily, but I had to stop when I started getting' bigger.
Ruggie: Not only was I makin' big bucks, but the cliff's environment was getting' kept clean. Felt like a win-win deal to me.
[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]
Ruggie: Oh, this one… It's a painting of the thunder god and his son.
Trey: Yeah, according to the legends, he came to the human world just after being born, and was raised by adoptive parents.
Ruggie: Basically, that means he was raised apart from his actual dad, right? Amazin' they actually look like they get along good.
Trey: Haha… I wonder. Do you get along with your dad, Ruggie?
Ruggie: Nah, I don't got one.
Ruggie: He left back when I was a kid, so I don't remember anythin' about him, 'n I don't know what he's up to now.
Trey: Oh… Is that so? Sorry, I didn't mean to overstep my bounds.
Ruggie: Huh, that reaction's pretty different than what I'm used to.
Ruggie: Back home, there's a ton of kids just like me, so usually they'd just shrug and go, "Oh, okay" and move on.
Trey: And I guess it doesn't sound like they're saying that just to be considerate.
Ruggie: Obviously. Because the bigger problem is not havin' the money to buy food!
Ruggie: Granny'd take care of me, but there wasn't much we could do 'bout our empty bellies…
Ruggie: When I was big enough, I'd start working together with all the kids in my little neighborhood to scrounge up some food.
Trey: Kids running around trying to gather food on their own… That's hard for me to imagine.
Ruggie: There's a buncha ways to gather up food. We'd go into town and ask for alms, or drop a line in the river.
Ruggie: We were always pretty hungry, so we'd pretty much do anything… Oh, like we had a great time once digging for potatoes.
Trey: Is digging up potatoes that exciting?
Ruggie: WELL, YEAH!
Ruggie: There's actually a type of potato that grows in my country that can get as large as 20 kilos…
Ruggie: Around the time the potato harvestin' was finishin' up, we all snuck into the fields at night…
Ruggie: And we'd pick up some stunted potatoes that were left behind, as well as dug up some other forgotten potatoes.
Ruggie: We were all up in arms to pick every single one before the sun rose!
Trey: Why'd you go at mid… Never mind, I'm not going to ask.
Ruggie: And then, this one year when I was diggin', I hit the jackpot!
Ruggie: It was a potato so huge I wouldn't've even been able to carry it with both arms! It had't've been heavier than 20 kilos～
Ruggie: Didn't think there'd be any potatoes left that huge… Maan, I really lucked out then.
Trey: 20 kilograms, huh… With something that big, I don't think there'd be much to worry about eating for a while.
Ruggie: Don'tcha think?
Ruggie: I was thinkin', like, we could dry whatever was leftover and turn it to powder to make it last a bit longer…
Ruggie: But then Granny ended up boilin' 'em, fryin' 'em, and basically makin' a ton of dishes. It was a potato party extravaganza!
Ruggie: Me and the other street kiddos were just packin' 'em away, and little by little it started to disappear…
Ruggie: In the end, I couldn't make anything to save it for later.
Trey: Ah… That's rough.
Ruggie: And I never saw a potato that huge ever again. Guess good luck like that only ever hits once in a while.
[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]
Trey: Woah… This painting has a real powerful presence.
Ruggie: So, this is a painting of when the Thorn Fairy transformed into a dragon to fight, huh.
Trey: She looks way stronger than what her stories say. I bet I would be no match for her.
Ruggie: Eh!? Trey-san, you lookin' to pick a fight with the Thorn Fairy? It'd be waaay better to try 'n flatter her instead
Trey: Oho, but that might be the scarier route, don't you think? You might end up in deep trouble if you were to offend the Thorn Fairy instead.
Ruggie: Sheeheehee. Oh, but I'm pretty good with that kinda stuff.
Trey: Haha, well, I guess I have to admire that pluck.
Ruggie: But man, she's really something. She's the one that caused all that lightning too, right?
Ruggie: They say it was always thunderin' and lightnin' outside her castle as a way to keep intruders out… That's a huge undertakin', huh.
Ruggie: But with all those lightning strikes, I bet the bread prices were super cheap near the Thorn Fairy's castle.
Trey: Bread? …Ohh, right! Because when lightning strikes, certain particles are released in the air that helps plants grow.
Ruggie: Huh? Wait, are ya sayin' there's actually a whole science behind the whole "bread gets cheaper whenever it thunders"!?
Trey: Oh, isn't that what you meant?
Ruggie: I was just sayin' what Granny would always say…
Ruggie: Wait, so does that sayin' mean that 'cause more wheat gets harvested, more bread can get made, and that's why it's cheaper?
Trey: Yeah. Although, with how much we've developed our fertilizers nowadays, I don't know how much lightning strikes actually play a part anymore.
Ruggie: Cooool, I had no idea. Guess you Science Club folk know your stuff.
Ruggie: I bet Granny didn't really know the meanin' behind it like you did…
Ruggie: But I bet she saw with her own eyes the change in bread prices whenever there were tons of thunder and lightning.
Ruggie: But still… Kinda weird, huh. Sheeheehee.
Trey: Weird? What is?
Ruggie: Back when I was a kid, I only ever cared 'bout food, so there's no way I woulda been interested in learnin' why the bread was cheaper.
Ruggie: But now, I heard your whole spiel, and my reaction was to think it was pretty cool. Guess I'm maturin'.
Trey: Well… Maybe it's just that you can actually afford to take the time to listen now?
Ruggie: Maybe, maybe not. 'Cause my wallet's still pretty empty…
Ruggie: Oh hey, maybe this is just me bein' able to relax my stresses away, huh!? …Maybe not, heh.
Trey: Could be, if you're enjoying your time here, at least. Oops… Look at the time.
Trey: I think I'll head out to go check on how my dormmates are doing. See you, Ruggie.
Ruggie: 'Kaay, see ya. I'm gonna keep lookin' around this area a bit longer.
Ruggie: Hm? This painting… A lion cub's just lollygaggin' with a warthog 'n a meerkat.
Ruggie: I'm wonderin' if they even know all the scary things that can happen to animals that step outta their territory, hm?
Requested by Anonymous.
#twisted wonderland#twst#ruggie bucchi#trey clover#twst ruggie#twst trey#twst translation#twst birthday
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Steve agrees to play npc parts for Eddie's big one shot that he's been planning forever, but only if Eddie will play basketball with him. So they meet Lucas and Max at the court in the park and Eddie will not shut up about everything.
It's hot, his shorts are rubbing his legs weird, the sun's too bright. Just in general being as annoying as possible. It doesn't bother Steve even a little, he's too busy being smug about getting Eddie into basketball shorts at all. Sure he was still wearing a band shirt, but the shorts were a win.
It starts pretty normal, Max is absolutely ripping them apart verbally and it's working weirdly well to balance out her actual basketball skills, which are nothing to write home about. Eddie whines everytime hes got to run up or down the court, but he does ok at controlling the ball and manages to catch it when Steve throws it to him.
Steve's being blocked by Lucas who's the same height now, and Max is running for Eddie and the ball. Steve's yelling at him to throw it, just aim for the net, and he does. He sinks it, the ball barely touches the rim. He shouts in victory and runs to Steve for a congratulatory kiss, losing the ball to Max, completely worth it.
Over the course of the next few minutes he sinks two more. Steve calls for a pause in the game and simply hands Eddie the ball and tells him to shoot. Another basket. He moves him farther back and Eddie makes it again. Eventually he's standing at the free throw line having scored 7 consecutive baskets and he looks at Steve in wonder and says
"hey, I think I'm good at this?"
Max and Lucas are losing their minds, Lucas is somewhere behind him saying "of course he's good at this." Over and over again.
Steve can't decide if he's more frustrated or charmed, but what he says is "what the fuck, we could have won the championship if you hadn't been a nerd."
#i just think Eddie's accidentally good at most things#steddie#steve harrington#Eddie Munson#steve keeps stopping when thier maling out later#Steve: IT JUST DOESN'T MAKE SENSE#Eddie: SHUT UP
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i'm begging you guys to start pirating shit from streaming platforms. there are so many websites where you can stream that shit for free, here's a quick HOW TO:
1) Search for: watch TITLE OF WORK free online
2) Scroll to the bottom of results. Click any of the "Complaint" links
3) You will be taken to a long list of links that were removed for copyright infringement. Use the 'find' function to search for the name of the show/movie you were originally searching for. You will get something like this (specifics removed because if you love an illegal streaming site you don't post its url on social media)
4) each of these links is to a website where you can stream shit for free. go to the individual websites and search for your show/movie. you might have to copy-paste a few before you find exactly what you're looking, but the whole process only takes a minute. the speed/quality is usually the same as on netflix/whatever, and they even have subtitles! (make sure to use an adblocker though, these sites are funded by annoying popups)
In conclusion, if you do this often enough you will start recognizing the most dependable websites, and you can just bookmark those instead. (note: this is completely separate from torrenting, which is also a beautiful thing but requires different software and a vpn)
you can also download the media in question (look for a "download" button built into the video window, or use a browser extension such as Video DownloadHelper.)
#for adblocking--ublock origin is my favorite but adblocker plus is also popular#also i once again highly recommend using firefox especially on mobile#to enable adblock on firefox mobile just click 3 dot menu > addons > addon manager > enable uBlockOrigin#that's for android i assume it's similar for iOS#update it is NOT similar for iOS bc Apple hates you. i'll write another post later#anyway. PLEASE USE AN ADBLOCK ALL THE TIME (except for specific websites you want to support)#your internet browsing experience will be so enormously improved#also on firefox if you want to get past a paywall click the 'Toggle reader view' button as soon as the page loads#(it's on the right of the taskbar. a little rectangle with horizontal lines)#works for most news sites by showing you the webpage text that is hidden under the 'you've run out of free articles' popup#doesn't work for everything but it's worth a shot
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big fan of the headcanon that simon riley is hard to get.
if we're being realistic, he's probably gotten very good at ignoring any inclination he might have towards a person in the years since his families' murder. it's easier to function as a soldier, as ghost, when he doesn't have to carry the burden of concern for someone so vulnerable. whether it's worrying about their safety while he's on deployment and can't afford to, or otherwise repressing his darker tendencies in an effort not to break them; the extra effort just isn't worth it to him. he won't seek you out, he won't take care of you, he won't reassure and coddle and communicate.
and he's not blind, nor is he passionless. he can appreciate a pretty face when one happens to pass by, but that's pretty much the extent of it. he's gotten used to the scorch of the lonely flame that flickers inside of him. if anything, he thinks putting it out and tending to the burns left in its wake would be a more traumatic ordeal than just letting it consume him.
so for him to accept love, it'd have to sneak up on him.
it happens with johnny first. he's the natural candidate, of course. his stubborn subordinate, clever with a fixated loyalty and quick wit – who better than him to get under ghost's skin?
granted, he isn't as guarded around him as he would've been with a civilian. not as cold upon introduction because he doesn't need to be. soap's a soldier, and this is work, and he's confident enough in the sergeant's resilience that it doesn't hinder his routine. he doesn't have to make accommodations, bend backwards or wake up in a cold sweat concerned about the man's wellbeing; not at first, anyway. and such are the floodgates that allow him to embrace johnny's company.
jokes crackled over comms. sitting next to each other on the airlifter. claps on the back after a successful operation. trust in every decision he chooses to take, regardless of whether or not he agrees. he thinks about johnny's eyes, johnny's smile, johnny's fierce little pout and the scar on his chin – but everything in moderation. the perfectly healthy amount. passing appreciation of his best mate's features and nothing more. it's the only meaningful connection he's had in years, and so what if he tugs his cock to the thought of it? people have cum to less.
until the bastard gets himself shot in the liver on solo reconnaissance in cyprus, and almost dies on medevac.
because when ghost gets that call from price – soap's hurt. it's looking grim. – he's wracked with a terror so acute he thinks his heart has given up on him. it's about the worst way to find out that he considers johnny as more than a friend. this sheer desperation, longing, regret. he ponders over it in the plane, tries to scrub the dread from his being. tries to pick apart what went wrong, what makes the sergeant so special.
by the time he reaches the hospital, he's already accepted defeat. all it takes is one look at johnny in his hospital bed – features peaceful, bandages wrapped around his bare chest, mohawk and facial hair grown out – to understand that this isn't going away anytime soon. he'll just have to make his peace with it. readjust to accommodate the protective flare already sparking in his chest.
it's a hassle, but manageable. despite his injury, johnny's still a competent man. they already know how to function in bouts of high stress. they're good– great friends. all this is really is an opportunity for simon to finally dig his cock within an ass he's been eyeing for months – or at least, that's the rationale he uses to come to terms.
and then you arrive. and things get a whole lot more complicated.
johnny's bird, apparently – gaz whispers to him outside of the inpatient room, watching through the window as you fret over the comatose man's pillows – didn' know he had one. m'surprised. you'd think a loudmouth like him would let the world know. she's cute too. really, ghost, did you have any idea?
he can't find it in him to respond, opting instead to march back into the room. you're fussing too much, causing a scene, no doubt disturbing the air with the nervous energy radiating off you in waves.
"he isn' supposed to be elevated like tha'," simon scolds, inflating a bit when you straighten up, eyes blowing wide with distress.
"oh... i just thought- he gets all hot when he lays on his back like this. i wanted him to be comfortable."
he knows that he's being cruel. you've done absolutely nothing to deserve the harsh glare he shoots your way, nor should you be expected to handle it. your eyes are red-rimmed, puffy like you've been crying on the way over. no doubt unused to crises like this one. he should be a help, not another source of stress.
besides. johnny's your boyfriend, not his. he has no reason to be so territorial. he'd only just discovered his feelings eight hours ago.
but–
"are you a doctor?"
"n-no."
"then it's best you keep your opinion to yourself."
he just can't help himself.
over the next week, ghost treats you with nothing more than cold disregard. he side-eyes you when you cry, wakes you up with rough pokes to your shoulder once visiting hours close, and takes every chance to one-up you when it comes down to who knows johnny better. you've got a leg up in the domestic department, but simon knows that nothing can surpass the borderline psychic bond they've built, and he makes sure to emphasise it whenever he can. and fuck, does it annoy him that you take it with grace every time, nodding receptively as though his input is meant to be more than just a searing critique of your shortcomings.
his behaviour doesn't go unnoticed, either. gaz is infinitely perplexed to see that the usually controlled lieutenant is so quick to lose his temper around you, despite your earnest efforts to not be a nuisance, and all price offers are long, disapproving looks that have him itch uncomfortably in his seat.
on the other hand, you must believe that he's just like that – foul mouthed, disparaging, mean – because you don't take it to heart. you remain pleasant, gentle, if not a little bit emotional. never once do you raise your voice at him, or fight back when he extends a particularly hurtful comment. on the occasion that his attitude grows to be too much for you, all you do is slip on a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and spread out your textbooks to spend the evening studying on the other side of the room. not keen on making amends, or discovering the source of simon's malcontent, but not affected by it either. you're peaceful. conflict averse. a good girl.
then, you come back one day with a tupperware of cookies.
"i made them myself last night. couldn't sleep, so..." you shrug, holding it out towards him. he assesses them, assesses you, roving over your chapped lips and hollow under-eyes. when did you get to look so defeated?
"no." he looks away, back to the unconscious man in front of him. in his periphery, your shoulders deflate, and he doesn't know what compels him to add the quiet "thanks."
"you've been here every hour of every day. i don't think i've seen you eat. um–" you dodge his gaze when it shoots to you. you've never tried to hold a conversation before now, have always accepted his gruff responses as an indication to leave him alone. he wonders why you can't catch the hint now. "just- let me know if you change your mind. they're shortbread."
and that's the end of it. at least until an hour later:
you're sitting on your armchair, directly across the bed from him, staring blankly at johnny when you speak up. "lieutenant?"
ghost doesn't remember introducing himself to you. he doesn't respond, but clenches his jaw to let you know he's listening.
"he's been comatose for a while." you warble. meaningless chatter. he sees it for what it is: talking so you don't cry. seeking reassurance in someone who knows how these things go.
"hm."
"is this how it usually-"
"sometimes."
"oh."
"he'll be alright." simon adds. more for himself than for you, but your lip wobbles like it's exactly what you needed to hear.
a few moments later, you speak up again.
"he holds you in such high regard, y'know."
he didn't. his heart aches as he follows the rise and fall of johnny's chest, finds solace in it, calming himself before he rips the hair from his skull. he can't speak, can't muster a rude dismissal, or any hatred for you. not anymore. this hospital has sucked the soul from him, as it seems to have done with you.
"he'll be happy to know you've stuck to his side." you smile, stirring from your seat and slinging your bag over your shoulder. "i have to go, got an exam tomorrow. i'll leave the cookies here in case you crave one."
you're halfway out when simon replies. "good luck."
and he's on his third cookie when johnny finally wakes. by then, he's already made up his mind. it's revelation he comes to much faster than the first.
if he can't have just johnny, he'll take you both.
#i ran out of steam towards the end could you tell#ghostsoap#simon 'ghost' riley x reader#simon 'ghost' riley x reader x johnny 'soap' mactavish#johnny 'soap' mactavish x reader#ghostsoap x reader#simon 'ghost' riley x johnny 'soap' mactavish#call of duty
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Izuku doesn't have many vices, mostly because he doesn't allow himself to indulge in any. Thinking them more as nasty habits or stains on his perfect PR record than anything else. Like headaches he'd rather avoid or didn't seem worth the bashing he'd receive from fans and haters online.
But that didn't mean he never indulged.
Especially with the weight of being the number one hero pressing down onto his broad shoulders, pushing him further into his sulking as he drapes himself over the smooth bar top. Half finished handle of liquor under his scarred palm, swirling the last dredges of the clear liquid inside as he thinks about ordering another.
Izuku was only here at this tiny lively bar in the small forgotten prefecture of Tokyo because Kaminari dragged him here. The electric blonde wasn't sure if Izuku had a girlfriend or not, he knew his occasional hero partner to be secretive about his love life which was the opposite of Kaminari who often advertised just how single he was. Denki dragged the hulking hero because Izuku needed to “live a little” and it was “cuffing season.”
Izuku didn't know what that meant.
Googling it is how he finds himself on the brink of a spiral with his perfectly white teeth sinking into the inside of his lip before his tongue laps at the metallic tang that floods his mouth.
It doesn't stop his teeth from sinking into tender flesh, it doesn't stop him from swallowing down more burning booze or sighing loudly.
He just can't stomach the thought of having to face his mother without a date during the holidays again this year. Don't mistake this concern for self pity nor vanity. Izuku is not the type of man who thinks he deserves to have people fawning at his feet, hell the man often grappled with feeling deserving of his given quirk on a daily basis more often than not.
But the way his mother looks when she opens the door, how her big smile drops the slightest when Izuku shows up and no one is there under his arm or holding his hand. Or awkwardly smiling as they meet his mom and Yagi-san for the first time even though they'd been dating for a good long while.
Izuku is just too busy, he doesn't mean to be, tried to board his PTO to take a long hiatus or two from work so he could dote on his partner.
But nothing was ever good enough.
He couldn't face that look of worry or concern from his mother, not again.
It wasn't for lack of trying on Izuku's part either, blind dates arranged by his mother or friends, even the agency! Dating app after dating app leading to dead ends or lack of intimacy leaving Izuku to feel hollow, desperate, enough to seek out other lonely heroes that wanted nothing more than sex.
Still he took everything seriously, maybe too seriously, and things just never worked out.
Yet the hopeless romantic in him never wavered and he thought he had one last shot at love when the hero agency set up an arrangement for a PR girlfriend to keep his ratings high. Izuku did everything in his power to make it work, to try to fall genuinely and deeply in love with the pretty woman who he shared his apartment with. Taking her on dates to places like the movies or to see the Sakura. Fucking her on his couch, in his car, over his dining room table after pushing away the dinner she made.
But each action only made him feel empty, more so than before. There was no spark between them, at least not on his end and Izuku couldn't stomach the idea of leading her on. Especially not when Izuku saw hearts forming in her eyes from more than just sex.
It ended in a mess when she confessed she loved him while straddling his lap and he went soft inside her. Fat tears threatening to fall that he blinks away before she gets up to slap him, he doesn't feel anything.
She breaks her fingers.
Breeching her contract that Izuku buys out when the agency threatens to sue her, the only time the commission head ever saw Izuku's bright emerald eyes narrow and darken.
He doesn't understand why he can't keep anyone around, he begins to think he is the problem.
That maybe his expectations were too high? Maybe he didn't devote enough time? Or maybe he really truly didn't feel anything when he was with any of the men and women he dated in the past save for one.
He expected love to be like the movies and of course Kaachan called him a dumb ass for it. That romantic sappy shit, movies that Izuku and Katsuki had watched curled together on Izuku's couch, “weren't fucking real.”
Only for the blonde traitor to move in with a woman he knew for less than six months when Katsuki kept telling Izuku it was too soon to move in with him despite them secretly fucking for a year and knowing each other all their lives.
Izuku finished the second half of his bottle.
His phone demands attention, chirping from the pocket of his jeans as Kamianri’s laugh echoes over the confined space. Izuku reads the banner on the illuminated glass, the text is from his mother.
Is it just you this year, honey?
Before a second one comes through.
Yagi is asking so we know to put the leaf in. We don't mind when you bring extra company. Kaachan and his girlfriend were a pleasant surprise last year.
But I'll be more than happy to just see my son.
Guilt floods his system, heavy in his chest that it forces a groan from his throat. Idle hand coming to clampe and squeeze harshly at the nape of his neck. Finger shaped bruises forming under thick digits in the hairline of his undercut, his emerald curls doing little to hide it. As the pain ebbs pleasantly down his spine he thinks to pat down his jeans seeking out the familiar rectangular outline before he slides off of the wobbling stool.
Pushing open the heavy door to the secluded alley with ease, mind sharp and feet steady as he looks around. Alcohol never had much effect on him due to his large stature and even larger metabolism leaving him to drink an obscene amount of booze before he felt a pleasant buzz. Tonight he hadn't had nearly enough to ease his shattered heart.
Jagged emerald eyes cut through the alley before he lets the tension in his shoulders release but not enough he'd be off guard. He remembers Stain and his legacy, he knows society still remembers the hero killer too. Knows that most heroes don't necessarily die in action but when they're most vulnerable. Throats slit while they were asleep, fucking, or stepping out into a dark alley in the middle of the night for a smoke.
The thought does little to soothe the aching need in his throat, to feel the burn that could dissolve the lump that sits uncomfortably behind his Adam's apple. Pulling out the half crushed pack of cigarettes and placing one between his lips. Dark orange lighter flickering to life as he rolls over the steel and flint before he takes a deep breath.
Only to instantly regret it.
Stale smoke clots his lungs and coats his tongue, still the acrid taste doesn't stop him from pulling another drag. Mind wandering far beyond where he stood, willing the smoke to smother his hopeless heart.
“Didn't you have a campaign ad against those?” You purr, watching the bulky man tense as his head snaps up to face you.
Izuku hadn't seen anything and his danger sense didn't go off when he surveyed the alley but it does now. A tingling in the soles of his feet as he looks up at you shrouded in the shadow of the neighboring building on the fire escape a foot or so next to his head. You jump down with ease and lean against the rough brick wall next to him. Close enough your elbows touch.
Watching the giant of a man fumble over the stick in his mouth making a cruel smile form on your own.
“Number one hero smoking, tsk tsk, what if I'm an impressionable young lady?” You giggle and it clings to Izuku's skin more than the stale smoke, he scoffs.
“You act as if you don't have a vice.” He glances down at you from the corner of his eye before tilting his head up to blow the smoke away from you.
“Everyone has a vice Mr Deku.” Brandishing your cherry tootsie pop you seemingly pull from thin air. Making a grand show of pocketing the bright red wrapper before popping it past glossy lips, eyes glued to the hero hiding outside the alley of the no name bar.
You imagined he'd be in uptown places, where the silverware was gold plated and a shot of patron was twenty dollars. Not here with the ripped leather seats held together with faded duct tape and cloudy glasses.
But here he stands in black jeans, a gray graphic tee with black sleeves from an undershirt rolled up past his thick forearms, smoking no less. The only expensive thing on him is his watch, it makes your fingers twitch.
You roll the sucker around in your mouth, letting it clink your teeth as you watch him, a harsh line for a mouth that smiled so brightly on the news this morning.
Did all heroes do this? Look pathetic in dark alleyways smoking overly stale cigarettes hoping no one sees them? He looks down at you with a calculated, cold gaze, if you were any other woman it would send a shiver down your spine. Especially from how it contrasts to his normally bright gemstone eyes now they looked clouded, jaded with unspoken emotion.
You think it serves him right, yet still your clawed hands bring out a pack of unopened cigarettes from the pocket of your oversized jacket tilting them towards the hero.
“Take these. Those have gotta be at least a year old. They don't make the packaging with the small warnings anymore.” You crinkle your nose at him, his normally doe like eyes narrow as they rove over you harshly before he quirks his brow.
It's kinda cute how bitchy he looks. You swat away the thought and he thinks he's bothering you with his smoke.
“I thought you didn't smoke.” He moves the stick further away from you.
“I don't. I lifted them off the electric blonde you came with. He's a terrible flirt you know.” Cat smile forming around the lollipop sick in your mouth, watching Izuku's eyes flash in warning, it makes you giggle, “Gonna arrest me?”
“Stealing is wrong.” He stubs out his half smoked cigarette, it disintegrates against the brick from its age and not the pressure he applies.
“So’s lyin.” A smiling retort as you shake the fresh pack at him, “I'll even pick your lucky.”
He looks down at his old ragged emergency pack with only the lucky looking back up at him. Bent and half broken from the argument he had with Katsuki almost a year ago about how Izuku couldn't stomach just sex anymore.
Looking up at you but before he can accept the offer you're already gently patting the pack against your palm, pulling the golden plastic that acts as a guide to take off the wrap from the box. Picking his lucky at random and flipping it upside down before you pass the pack to him. He sighs and takes the box, looks down at the fresh pack and looks back up at you. Sees your smug smile.
“Thanks. Going to black mail me now?” He decides he should have another since his first one was so awful. Pulling the dark orange lighter from his pocket to start a good ember.
“No, I think I've got enough collateral.” Flaunting his expensive, classy watch on your wrist. Well about mid forearm for you, “Secrets safe with me.”
Instinctually his broad palms slaps his wrist where his watch should be, as if he doesn't believe his eyes. Glancing back up at you again wholly expecting you to be already at the mouth of the alley but you stay close to him. Well within arms reach and step closer to him still.
He blows the smoke up into the sky again, keeps the cigarette on the opposite side of you.
“I've got more expensive ones in my apartment.” He comments it almost comes off flirty until you see how sad his emerald eyes look. Izuku wants to ‘be a man', wants to take you home and fuck the brains out of your pretty head but his heart swells in agony, he sighs out more smoke.
“Is this you trying to take me home? Ooo so heroes do have one night stands!” A teasing nudge to his ribs, he doesn't even budge, just moves the burning stick up higher so the smoke won't stick to you.
“I don't do one night stands.”
“Then why invite me to see your expensive watch collection hmm? Tryin to get me to steal your heart instead?”
“Maybe I am.” His gaze flickers to you again, holding your eyes as his lids are at half mast.
Did anyone even know the number one hero could give fuck me eyes?
“Steal my heart, be my girlfriend.” He looks down at you, sees what he registers as panic, “Just through the holidays.”
You blink up at him for a moment as he studies you. Drinks in how those black skinny jeans cling to your thick legs, how the fishnets do little to keep his thoughts pure and that little lingerie you wore as a top had his dick twitching. Left fist clenching when his eyes look over a man's leather jacket on your broad shoulders.
He thought about all the jackets he owned so he could replace the well worn garment on your shoulders with his own.
“I'll pay you.” Taking a long drag, feeling desperation claw up his throat competing with the burn of nicotine, “Pay you a lot more than what that watch is worth.”
The idea of it makes you laugh loudly, the pretty sound echoing around the alley as you grip onto his forearm for stability. He had to be fucking drunk, there was no way he was asking a theif to be his fake girlfriend, what was this a shojo manga?
But when you look up at him and see his freckled cheeks flush with embarrassment you swallow down the rest of your mirth.
“Oh you're serious.” Pulling the cherry sucker from your mouth, letting your lips pop around it lewdly, Izuku watches with close emerald eyes his mind wandering down places it shouldn't, especially not with a woman he's just met. Still thick digits twitch as he tries not to palm himself roughly.
“What the number one hero can't get a girlfriend?” You deadpan and this time it's his turn to laugh except there isn't any joy in it.
“Ha. No. Haven't you heard? I'm too much of a ‘fucking nerd.’ Guess Kaachan was right.” He stubs out his cigarette before pocketing the butt since there was no tray in the back alley.
His admission gives you pause, pressing the cherry confection back on your tongue roughly before you pull it into your mouth taking it from manicured nails. Pushing the sucker to poke out your cheek making Izuku's long lashes flutter.
“Kaachan?’ You giggle, looking up as you move the sucker from one side of your mouth to the other with your tongue. Hard candy clacking against your teeth, “You mean Katsuki? That's Dynamight’s given name right?”
Shit shit shit! He hadn't meant to call him that! How did you figure it out so quickly!
“Oh! Oh please don't say anything!” He looks mortified and you watch his cheeks turn as red as your tongue.
“Don't worry Zuzu. Your secret is safe with me.” Crunching down on the last thin layer before the taste of chocolate coats your tongue swallowing the Tootsie roll and Izuku watches your Adam's apple bob while his mind swirls with dirty thoughts.
Thoughts so dirty he almost misses you add,
“Gonna need bigger pay to keep quiet.” Nails tapping his watch, “Sides can't say I'll be a good girlfriend. I hate everything after Halloween. My birthday included.”
“What? Everyone loves the holidays!” He's shocked you've said that and you shake your head.
“No, everyone with good or whole families love the holidays.” You correct and he looks down at you with a frown. Already you pick up on a habit of his, teeth worrying the inside of his lip as he thinks, “I currently have neither.”
“Oh I'm-”
“Don't. I don't need the mighty hero’s pity.” You scoff, sounding a little jaded before you fix your face, turning to a joke as another smile pulls at your pretty lips, “Not when I can take his money instead.”
“Cute.” He scoffs sarcastically, still he can't deny the flutter in his stomach.
“You're kinda bitchy ya know that?” You smile, “The media makes you out to be Prince Charming.”
“I don't look like Prince Charming?” He gestures to himself and you laugh loudly again. He can't help the heat that creeps up his throat.
“Bet you fuck like Prince Charming too. All vanilla and boring.” Struggling to stifle yet another giggle.
“If you accept the offer to be my girlfriend you can find out if that's true or not.” Quickly his demeanor changes, emerald eyes darkening as they slowly drag up and down your body with a sinful gaze. The sight of him looking down his nose at you makes your stomach clench. You shouldn't be considering his offer now from one intense gaze. A hero and a morally gray person never worked out and it was only a matter of time before your thievery caught up with. You really shouldn't but you know what they say.
Curiosity killed the cat
“Fine. I'll be your little girlfriend til new years. When do we start?”
“Tonight.” He leans close letting his large hand slide down your forearm to your wrist til his fingers are lacing with yours, “It's so late, I really should get you home, shouldn't I baby?”
Emerald eyes sparkling with promise that he planned to devour you whole the second the two of you stepped foot into his penthouse apartment.
“Yes, you should. It is so very late."
“Oh my god IZUKUUUUU fuck fuck fuck!” You scream as you grind onto his handsome face, cumming on his skilled tongue for the umpteenth time in the half an hour you've been in his apartment. Mauve nails around his throat as you choke him slightly, shamelessly riding his face to prolong your high, not that he would dare interrupt it. Groaning loudly under you as he slowly yanks at his fat long cock that leaks with pre. Hungry eyes watching him as you let out another breathy moan.
“Fuck and you've never had a girlfriend before?” he laughs in your cunt at your question. Strong hands coming to lift you off his face with ease so you can hear him better.
“I know I said I was a nerd but I never said I was a virgin.” Before he roughly adjusts you back on his cute freckled face, slurping your clit roughly as mock punishment for interrupting him. Your eyes cross and your thighs squeeze his head.
“Fuck.” You whine and he's rewarded with more of your slick as you cum again, Izuku already decided that he loves how you whine curses for him. Feels you start to slump from the pleasure as your body melts, offering you his hand to support you better as you grind into his face before you can't anymore.
Before this insatiable man lifts you with ease, flipping you onto your back when the needle of the record player hits the center of the vinyl. Pressing you into the dark couch with his pelvis as he wets his cock by grinding into your sticky folds, making you gasp out like he wants before he's gently cradling your throat, slipping his tongue into your open mouth as he groans.
“We taste so good together.” He growls, the sound makes you see stars, especially as his fat cock head nudges against your abused clit. Catching your fluttering entrance and it makes you both shudder before he angles himself properly. Slowly sinking in and watching your face for any signs of pain or displeasure. Watching your eyes roll with each passing moment before he rested against you. Giving slow, rough thrusts that grind down into your clit that have your hands shaking at his back as claws struggle to find purchase in his skin.
“And you're telling me these girls didn't stay for the dick either? Fuck Izuku!!!!” Arching your back, if you weren't careful you'd become addicted to him, your question makes him hide his face into your throat.
“Guess sex isn't enough.” He mumbles against your tacky skin.
“That or you're not telling me something.” You gasp at the end, when he keeps hitting that spot and makes you cum each time. Makes a deep tension in you dissipate until you feel as if you're floating, you wouldn't be able to speak much longer.
He thinks you'll pull away but instead you thread your fingers into his sweaty curls to bring his face to yours. To look deep into his eyes even if you struggle before you seal your lips with his. Letting your tongue slide over his until you moan his name into his mouth.
“Oh fuck Izuku, you have to cum in me now. Fuck fuck you're throbbing.” Your cunt clamps down on him at the thought of his warm seed spilling into your milking cunt. He pants over you, still keeping that steady slow roll of his hips but how you squeeze him makes him insane. Makes his hips finally speed up before his pace turns sloppy.
His moans turning into loud grunts as he fucks you with enough vigor the legs of the couch scrape against the expensive hardwoods until he's cupping your throat again but never squeezes. Looking down at you and you don't dare look away as you watch his long lashes flutter, the sight makes the coil in your stomach snap again. Feel him paint your cunt in pearly strings of white before he slowly lowers himself on shaking arms, giving your throat a tender squeeze before he rests his head in the crook of your throat, he hadn't intended for the two of you to fuck already. Hell he didn't even mean to rip off your jeans and set you on his face so he could show you that he really wasn't boring.
And he sure as fuck didn't meant to fill up your pretty cunt with his spend.
“What are you doing to me?” He pants playfully, kissing at your thudding pulse point.
“Stealing your heart, remember?” A breathless giggle as the two of you lie like that until his cock begins to soften. He sighs, slowly gets to his feet before he's lifting you into his arms, it makes your cheeks warm, especially when you look down at the soaked fabric of the sofa.
“I think we ruined your couch.” He laughs at your joke.
“Ts fine, the covers are machine washable.” He nudges his nose into your cheek and you giggle before he's setting you on the edge of the tub as he starts the shower for you.
“Here's how to adjust the water temp if you need it hotter. Most women love it scalding.” He takes a step back, moving to grab for a fresh towel for you. You try not to let your heart sink when you realize he isn't going to join you.
“Oh a real casanova huh?” He rolls his eyes at your playful jab before he steps into his bedroom to give you privacy for the time being. Fishing out a T-shirt and clean boxers for both himself and you to sleep in. Laying yours out on the bed as he smells his body wash float from under the snowy glass door. It makes him smile as he thinks of how you'll smell like him until he takes you to gather your things from your place tomorrow, that or he'll buy you whatever you want or need.
For now he'll relish the idea that you, his fake girlfriend, gets to smell like him, your fake boyfriend.
After awhile you come into the room, clean and pristine, movement catching Izuku's eye of course. When you meet his eyes you smile, give a little twirl.
“It's Chanel.” Letting your fingers adjust the hem of the regular cotton towel and Izuku laughs.
“Is it? Lemme see.” He rises, holds your hand to twirl you again as he looks down at you with a smile, “Perfect fit.”
“Thank you.” You giggle again, feeling shy for the first time under his heavy gaze. Watching the corner of his lips tilt upward before he points out the clothes he left out for you and slips into the bathroom. Surprisingly you don't hear the lock click to the door, Izuku was either far too trusting or he truly did not see you as a threat to his life.
Quick to change into the oversized, old shirt and boxers before you take this opportunity to explore his penthouse now that the six foot four man wasn't pressing himself up against you.
Tiptoeing out of his room even if you knew you didn't need to, whetting your curiosity first with the living room that was adorned with ceiling to floor windows to the left when you first came in. Your breath fogging the window as you look over the cityscape. A snaking inky black cuts through the bright lights, the wide river bed reflecting the lights back in swirling currents giving the scene the stars the sky lacks.
Even this late at night the prefecture is teaming with life, you wonder if it's exhausting for him. To sonder over the lives that carry out beneath his feet. If he wonders if he can save them all.
If he knows he can't.
The needle of the record player bumps against the middle of the vinyl again pulling you from your thoughts.
“Oh.” You squeak, tiptoeing to the old thing and gently lifting the arm. Finding the album cover and slipping the vinyl in with ease before shutting off the player. Eyes quick to find the empty spot on the wall to where the album goes.
Not on the shelves under the player, no those were jam-packed with composition notebooks unlabeled making your curious fingers twitch. The album belongs up on the wall with the rest of them that he organized beautifully. Each piece placed perfectly to compliment each piece of art so that it could be viewed individually or if you stood back you could see it as something whole.
Standing on tiptoes to return its album art facing forward. Taking a step or two back to appreciate it before the notebooks whisper to you.
Slipping one from the shelves, it's filled margin to margin with text about the albums. The notations were meticulously detailed reminding you of placards at museums or art exhibits. Finding the corresponding piece, staring up at the art before your eyes flicker down to the notes.
…when the music swells it squeezes my heart, the lyrics were chosen carefully bringing tears to my eyes. It's haunting how relatable it is to wonder if I'll get a perfect love and if I do that I'm deserving….
You swallow thickly, know you'll get swallowed up by this notebook that you didn't have the time to dissect, especially not with the limited amount of time you had. It felt akin to a diary, something you shouldn't be reading. Normally that wouldn't discourage you, wouldn't have your fingers slowly shutting the book. Normally you'd devour as much as you could with an excuse on why you weren't where you were supposed to be on the tip of your tongue.
For now you return it to the shelf.
Feet carrying you across the cool hardwood to the open concept kitchen that over looks the living room with the album art, expensive couch and the TV. The large waterfall island made of marble, clean and smooth save for a few scattered pieces of Izuku's life he hadn't yet tidied away like the rest of the apartment.
Another notebook, a theme it seems, lying open. A sketch of a hero on the left with text surrounding them before paragraphs of text and few bullet points to the page on the right again in Izuku's slightly messy handwriting. As if his hand cannot keep up with his brain.
Snow Fall - similar to Shouto’s ice quirk…
“Beloved?” Izuku's voice calls gently from down the hall, you tear your eyes away from the notebook and quickly open a few cabinets before you find a glass and fill it from the tap.
“M coming! Just needed water.” Heading back to huge bedroom, smiling devilishly when you find Izuku.
Seeing his body better in the light of the bedroom. Scarred, thick with muscle and soft freckles kissing almost every inch of his skin. The tan spots giving extra attention to his Adonis belt that leads to his fat cock. It makes your cunt throb.
You set the AllMight collectable glass down onto the bedside table, not noticing the fanboy item until you see his flushed cheeks, following his eyes to the PLUS ULTRA cup. The source of his embarrassment makes you giggle again.
“It's cute.” You reassure, jumping on top of the deep viridian duvet, cocking your hand on your hip and pulling your shirt up to show a little skin.
“When's the last time you fucked on this great big bed?” He doesn't answer you right away, basil eyes looking at you before they begin to look through you.
A burning ember gaze sears his memory, he closes his eyes as if that would stop the images from demanding every last shred of his attention..
“Been awhile.” He finally admits, dropping his towel unashamed as he steps into his black boxer briefs. They cup his sac and softened cock nicely, clinging to his thick thighs that have you salivating. The way he ate pussy and fucked was almost good enough to replace the cold hard cash he promised to pay, almost.
That distant look in his eyes made you wonder if there was someone else that held him back from his romantic endeavors.
“Shall we christen this great big bed too then?” A playful tease as you pull up the fabric of his shirt to expose your breasts. He loved the sight, loved how you looked in his clothes, in his bed, underneath him as his emerald pendant swings in your face.
His cock twitches, a tick in his jaw before he's clasping his hands in restraint. Wringing his fingers as he thinks of the last time he fucked in that bed.
He feels the ghost of sharp canines at the nape of his neck, his hand automatically moves to brush over the area. His curls fall over his eyes and he sighs deeply.
“No. I think you should sleep.” He smiles softly, it doesn't reach his eyes and you don't push, “We've got a big day tomorrow. Got to get your stuff and -”
“I don't have a lot of stuff. My outfit was the most of it.”
“You don't have any other clothes?”
“Maybe another pair of pants, some underwear for sure but this is mostly it. So we have time.” You purr, crawling down the bed before you flop onto your stomach. Arching your back purposefully, out stretching your fingers to play with his.
“Then it will be even longer. We'll have to get you an outfit for the party.” He threads his fingers with yours before you let go when his words register. Sitting straight up.
“Party?”
“Yes, baby doll, party. We've got several to go to. Maybe a gala too. Then there's the agency Christmas party oh and…” He bites at his lip as he rest his chin on scarred digits beginning to go off on a tangent as he thinks of all the invitations stuffed in the top desk drawer of his office.
“A gala?!” Oh fuck oh fuck this was a bad idea. When he said girlfriend through the holidays you thought fucking and a private date or two. Not being surrounded by pro heroes you ran from on the daily, identity concealed with a mask.
Not only would you be in the literal lion’s den but you really weren't the most classy type of bitch. You've never really been invited to any big event let alone one that was fucking televised. At least not events you didn't crash to slide priceless paintings off the walls or expensive jewelry off the wrists of the one percent. At least then you'd have your mask to hide behind, the ability to blend into the crowd but now you'd be hanging off the arm of the number one hero.
You'd have to act like a proper lady who definitely didn't crash in vacation homes or half lived in apartments of the rich and the famous while they stayed in their main mansions until they got tired of the same old four walls.
Each gig you promised that this would be your last and each time you found yourself with a new piece of jewelry made from dazzling gems of deconstructed designer pieces hungry for the next heist.
Art and jewelry weren't the only things you've stolen, information and secrets often sold for a lot more but Izuku, pro hero Deku, didn't need to know you had a stash house, more like stash attic, in some rundown home in Kamakura you'd gotten for a steal.
His thighs bump up against the edge of the bed, cupping your cheeks for a moment, “You look…worried.”
“I am worried. Some of these events are televised. Are you sure you want me? I'm not exactly Yaoyorozu or Kendo."
“I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't.” He comes down to press his lips to your forehead. It makes your stomach flutter, it shouldn't, “Besides those will be the easiest ones. The hard ones are the more personal settings.”
He leans back, takes his hands from your face as he heads towards the lights, “I won't let anything happen to you.”
He flicks off the lights, stands by the door for a moment before he goes to shut it.
“You're really going to sleep on the couch? I thought we had to make this realistic.” A final attempt to get him to at least come and enjoy his luxury bed. It was big enough that you doubted the two of you would even touch by accident in the middle of the night. If he was so afraid of intimacy, which was odd, he seemed more the time to fall in love if he fucked. Especially when he did romantic shit like fuck you to music and whisper some of the lyrics in your ear.
You pat his side with sharp clawed fingers, “Come on boyfriend.”
He can't remember the last time he slept in his bed, changing and washing the sheets more out of habit than necessity and as he tries to recall he thinks it's been over a year.
He looks at you for a long, long time, you curled up in his expensive sheets and comforter as you pat the spot beside you patiently but he sighs.
“Maybe another time. Good night sugar.”
“Good night Zuzu bear.”
#izuku x reader#izuku midoryia x reader#midoryia izuku x reader#deku x reader#bnha x reader#kitten writes izuku 🖤🐈⬛ 🖋️
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You know what gets me too about Levi?
He's just such a sweetheart. He really, really is.
He has such a tough, intimidating exterior. He is tough and intimidating, forged that way from a life of hardship. But his heart is as gentle as they come.
The last shot of him, handing out candy to all those little kids. The way he saved Ramzi from that angry mob. The way he worked with Historia to relocate all the children from the Underground above, to give them better lives.
Levi's compassion toward children is demonstrated again and again, and really exemplifies his compassion overall. People that treat children kindly, that are so aware of children and their worth, and acknowledge them and their worth, are the most genuinely good people.
And when you think about Levi's own childhood, the brutality and loneliness and poverty of it, it makes his kindness and compassion toward them all the more remarkable. His own, deprived childhood could have turned him callous and cruel, unable to care for others out of the desperation to survive himself, but it didn't. Instead, Levi remained and remains exceptionally kind and caring. He remains more deeply compassionate and generous and selfless than anyone.
That last shot of him handing out candy to those children, helping them to regain even a semblance of a normal childhood, to experience some of the joy and innocence of childhood again, after the trauma of what they've been through, exemplifies who Levi is best of all. He isn't wallowing in self-pity, or lamenting on what he's lost (and he's lost more than anyone). He isn't feeling sorry for himself for losing his mobility, or being scarred and disfigured. He isn't drowning in his grief or despair over the friends and family he's lost. He isn't embittered or negative, he isn't angry or cynical. He isn't self-absorbed, or wrapped up in resentment that others have what he never did.
No, instead, he's out there, on the ground, bringing light into the lives of children who still have a chance to escape that darkness that consumed his own childhood, and the vast majority of his adulthood too. He's out there doing his best to protect them from that despair, to give them a chance at a happy childhood.
This is what I mean when I call Levi the most selfless character. Because he is. He doesn't begrudge others having what he was always denied. Rather, he does all he can to ensure they never experience the deprivation he did. He does all he can to give them what he was so cruelly robbed of.
And all this after he's already given everything. When he owes no one anything.
He really is an absolute sweetheart. He's just the sweetest man.
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Steve proposes to Eddie during DND.
He's played about a dozen times since the Vecna ordeal three years ago, just one-off stories with no real consequences, and while it took him a little bit to get a feel for the game, he's finally reached a point where he doesn't feel totally out of place.
It helps that Eddie absolutely lights up every time Steve agrees to play, that his boyfriend tends to go a little easier on the rest of the table because they all help Steve half-fumble through the mechanics. It's worth it when Eddie beams at him for figuring something out first, for suggesting a dumb play that has the table screaming when it works.
It's the summer after the kids' senior year, and when Eddie offers to run an all-day one shot to celebrate their graduation, Steve instantly starts planning. He talks to Robin, who absolutely gushes over his idea, and along with Dustin they plan it all out.
He learns the premise of the one-shot from Eddie - there's a big bad who's been taking people from the kingdom, and the king is finally forced to do something when his own son, the prince, is also taken - and Dustin helps him make a character, a fighter who is the personal guard of the prince, whose goal is to find and bring him back safely.
Eddie seems pleased with the character when Steve explains it to him, even more so when Steve suggests the idea that they've fallen for each other and have been lovers in secret. "You're such a romantic, sweetheart," Eddie says before kissing him, and Steve knows it’s a tease and a compliment, knows that Eddie loves how soft he can get over things like that.
The game happens about two weeks later, and Eddie wasn’t joking when he called it an all-day affair.
They get started at about ten that morning, Steve and Eddie, their four boys, and Erica all crowded around the little dining table in Steve and Eddie's little apartment, with Robin, El, and Max entertaining themselves in the adjacent living room.
At Eddie’s insistence, they take a break every couple of hours so everyone can get up and stretch and use the toilet, with slightly longer breaks for lunch and dinner (sandwiches and pizza, respectively, both provided by Steve and Eddie).
The big bad is defeated at around nine that night, and everyone is elated as Eddie takes them through the aftermath, letting each player character have a short moment to reunite with their stolen friends and loved ones.
Robin and the girls have moved to sit on the nearby kitchen counter to listen, partly because El always enjoys these soft moments in the story, and partly because Robin knows what’s going to happen soon.
Steve stays quiet, letting the others have their moment as he fights down the sudden anxiety that sparks through him, knowing what he’s about to do. He looks up when Eddie says his name, takes a steadying breath, and asks "Do I see the prince?"
Eddie nods, says "You do."
"I go over to him."
"He sees you approaching and he rushes to you, meeting you halfway. As soon as you're close enough, he throws his arms around you and says 'I knew you would save me, darling.'"
Steve smiles. "I say, 'I always will, my love' and then I kiss him."
The teens hoot and holler a little as Eddie grins. "He kisses you back, and for a moment it's like everything else fades to the background. All that matters is him, back where he belongs, safe in your arms."
Steve nods, and before he loses his nerve asks "Can I do something?"
Eddie quirks a brow, curious. "Of course,” he says, and Steve takes a breath to steady himself.
"I take his hand, and then I drop to one knee."
A couple of the teens give little 'ooh's as Eddie looks at him, clearly a little surprised, and Steve continues before he can say anything.
"Three years ago, I took my place by your side as your personal guard. I swore to care for you, to protect you from anything that would want to hurt you, and somewhere along the way, we fell in love."
Steve swallows, knows he's blurring the line of character and person as he speaks, staring at Eddie across the table.
"The last three years have been everything to me. Any time I'm not with you, you're the only thing I can think about, and every day spent with you is a fucking gift, because I know just how close I came to losing you."
The sudden urge to touch Eddie becomes overwhelming and he stands, watches Eddie's shocked face as he rounds the table and drops to a knee in front of his lover. Eddie's eyes are wide and he gives a soft "Steve?" as Steve takes a slender hand in his own, remembers the words he had practiced over and over with Dustin.
"I don't want to be just a fighter anymore. I want to be a paladin, set on a righteous path, and if you'll let me, I want to make an Oath of Devotion. Not to any god or angel, but to you, the love of my life."
Steve pulls the ring from his pocket and offers it to Eddie. It's very much not traditional, and at first glance seems to be just another chunky ring that blends in with Eddie's current selection. But Steve had to get it, the shield molded onto the band and the new 'beloved' engraved on the inside repeating what Steve always says, I'll protect you, I love you.
Eddie is in tears as Steve stares him down, as he gently asks "Eddie Munson, will you marry me?"
For just a second, Eddie is completely still, save for his shaky breathing. Steve doesn't get scared, he knows that sometimes it takes Eddie a second to register things when he's overwhelmed. He waits it out, and after a few seconds Eddie blinks rapidly before jerking forward, dropping to his knees as he throws his arms around Steve. "Fuck yes! Of course I will!"
Cheers erupt through the room, and a flash goes off when they meet in a kiss. Eddie looks over to see Robin with a camera in her hand and tears streaming down her face. “Don’t mind me,” she says, a bit choked up even as she beams at them, and Eddie’s head whips back to Steve.
“You planned this!” he yells, unable to stop his own tears from falling, and Steve laughs. “Of course I did!” is his reply as he takes Eddie’s hand back so he can slide the ring onto it, and he ignores the second flash from where Robin sits.
“Wanted it to be perfect,” Steve says softly, stroking his thumb over the ring, now at its new home on Eddie’s finger. “Wanted you to know how much you mean to me, and I figured something nerdy would hit all the right buttons.”
“I helped with the nerd stuff!” Dustin calls from his seat, and Eddie laughs wetly as he scrubs at the tear tracks on his cheeks. “I should have known something was up with you, Henderson. You’ve been bouncing off the walls for weeks.”
Steve stands up from the floor before helping Eddie up, and they both grunt as Dustin practically slams into them for a hug, quickly followed by a more reserved El. They hug each of the kids in turn and accept their congratulations, and after a few minutes Eddie is put together enough to actually finish out the one-shot.
Later that night as they're getting ready for bed, Eddie presses up behind Steve, one hand sliding to rest on his stomach and the other opening in front of them, revealing a simple, gold band.
"You beat me to it, you dick," he says with so much tenderness, and Steve laughs as he takes the ring.
"You can still do your proposal, if you want," Steve replies, heart swelling as he looks over the band, sees the little 'sweetheart' engraved on the inside.
"Nah, there's no way I can top what you did for me."
"I dunno, you normally top me pretty well," Steve teases, just to hear Eddie's delighted little cackle.
He turns and hands the ring back to Eddie, asks "Put it on me?" and Eddie smiles. He takes the ring and slides it onto Steve's finger, his thumb brushing over shiny metal, and Steve feels so fucking happy as they meet in the middle for a kiss.
#steddie#steddie fic#steve x eddie#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#joey writes#steddie fanfic#heres the proposal fic#as promised#i see you all screaming in the tags and please know it brings me endless joy#ily all#oath of devotion
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🫧 skin care daddy 🫧
☆ pairing: satoru gojo x afab!reader
☆ summary: your skin's been breaking out recently and you're stressed at work and you have your sister's wedding to attend in a week. according to the internet, this is the best spa in town, and you're lowkey desperate at this point...it can't be that bad right?
☆ tags: modern au
☆ warnings: penetrative sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!recieving), facial, dirty talk, fingering, flicking the bean?? idk
☆ a/n: guys i swear i am cooking in the kitchen with the asks from my follower event AND other shit OK!! sorry for the wait on everything but here is a little crumb bc i love u all!! i was feeling unhinged bc i saw two things: 1) a spa called skin care daddy and 2) a post or one shot where the reader got a facial from gojo and it cleared her skin. idk i just felt inspired to make this bc it felt the universe was asking me to. not proofread some plot with corn u know the vibes babes xx
☆ word count: 7k+
"sorry, we're all booked for this weekend and the next. we usually recommend that our customers book 3 weeks in advance for our services at the ritz carlton luxury spa." the lady on the other end of the line was objectively speaking very politely, but you were far too frustrated with your situation to notice.
"great, yeah, no, thanks." you say quickly, hanging up the phone and groaning into your pillow.
"no luck at the ritz?" you turn to face your best friend, nobara.
"they're all booked, what a surprise!" you say sarcastically, your voice still slightly muffled by the pillow.
"i mean, c'mon, y/n. your face is not that bad..." nobara tries and deeply fails to comfort you, making you chuckle half heartedly.
you get up from your bed and walk over to the full body mirror of your closet in order to get up close and personal with your face. your fingers stretch on the skin around your breakouts as you study them with determination, as if just willing them to be gone will do the trick. it doesn't.
"it's bad enough that all the aunties will say something snarky to me all day."
you're usually one to always follow through on your skincare routine, am and pm, and watch what you eat carefully so that you don't get breakouts. but you recently went through a rough patch (read: a hellish period) and your face took the brunt of the damage. it wasn't your fault you were having massive cramps and craved hot cheetos the entire week (it was so worth it) but now, a week before your sister's wedding, you're facing the consequences.
you sigh. the ritz was the fifth place you guys called that didn't have any space for an all day facial, but you couldn't run out of hope. back to the drawing board.
you open up your laptop and get back to searching on google maps, as nobara does the same thing. you're grateful she's helping you out during your, albeit, dumb crisis, but what are girl friendships for? a spa you've never heard of before suddenly catches your eye and you zoom in. skin care daddy? you read the finer print underneath it. best day spa in tokyo.
you snort. best day spa in tokyo my ass. if it really was the best day spa in tokyo, why have you never heard of it?
nobara laughs, almost on cue. "wait, dude, are you seeing this spa?" she turns her phone around and you see she's also looking at skin care daddy. "this has to be a joke, right? no way would they be allowed to open up a spa named that, right?"
"ohmygod, i was just looking at that!" you say excitedly. "it literally sounds like a sex bot made it for unsuspecting horny losers to click on and get like, a crazy virus." you both laugh at how ridiculous this place sounds.
nobara's laugh almost abruptly stops as she scrolls down the place. "wait, stop. this place has like...over ten thousand reviews and a 4.9 star rating..."
you immediately click on the place and take a closer look at the reviews and ratings and see she's right. "i don't think i've ever seen a place have this many reviews with consistent ratings?" your brows scrunch as you read aloud some of the top reviews.
"this spa has given me the some of the best facials of my life. i always come to this spa whenever i'm in the area, and the people working there are obsessed with taking care of their customers. 10/10" you're baffled by the review sounding so...weird but you think nothing of it. you make a mental note that you are kinda desperately looking for a miracle facial to help with your breakouts, so maybe you shouldn't count this place out just yet.
nobara half heartedly scoffs as she reads the next one. "i've had chronic acne and back pain for years until i saw someone from here who made me feel soo good. you'll be coming here all the time once you go. maybe even multiple times a day."
"how good can this place be if you have to go multiple times to make sure your spa treatment worked?" you say, rolling your eyes at these reviews. "these can't be real right?"
"they sound incentivized or like someone paid them to write it or somethin'" nobara surmises.
"maybe it's a cult or something," you say, causing both of you to double over in laughter.
"a cult disguised as a spa is a bit too insane, even for tokyo." nobara says as she scrolls through and skims more reviews. "aren't you looking for a facial anyway? everyone's saying they're really good here...you know...despite the..." she gestures with her hands the reviews on her phone.
"ugh, am i for real that desperate for clear skin that i'm willing to go to a shady ass day spa?" you roll on to your back on your bed and stare at the ceiling, contemplating.
"can't be that shady if it's ten thousand reviews. say what you want but that's a lot of reviews to pay money for."
nobara has a point. you grab your laptop and try to look for a link to their website and see they don't have a website. interesting. not a red flag but just interesting. maybe i have to call for bookings? you search for a phone number, but fail to find one.
"wait, are you able to find any contact for this spa?" you ask noabra and you see her squinting her eyes at the phone.
"no i wasn't but i saw a review that basically said this spa is a walk-in type of deal?"
"it's a walk-in but has thousands of reviews? how does that even work? people are probably waiting years in line to get in?"
"dunno," nobara shrugs, and puts her phone back in her pocket. "maybe it's like a 'if-you-know-you-know' type of thing so it's like popular through word of mouth of somethin'"
damn. even more shady, then. you chew on your lip and stare at the ceiling again, trying to imagine all the things your aunties will say to you at the wedding.
"27 and still unmarried? shame."
"oh, you really need to watch your diet, the breakouts will never go away otherwise."
"clear skin is the first step to find a man who will desire you, y/n."
you feel like your skin is burning thinking about the so-called "advice" you're likely to receive at the wedding. normally you wouldn't care, but your hormones have been kind of out of wack with the new birth control you started recently, and you're not sure if you can really take any form of bullshit other than your sister's this weekend.
your thoughts are interrupted by nobara getting up from your chair. "alright, i'm off to work. need a ride to skin care daddy?"
"yeah, actually," you say as you slowly get out of your bed and change our of your pajamas.
"wait, what?!" nobara says with wide eyes. "i was actually joking when i said that. are you seriously gonna go? y/n, i dunno about this one..."
"c'mon! it's like you said, it's weird but it's not necessarily shady..." you say, mostly trying to convince yourself as you put on a pair of your favorite lazy girl black flared yoga pants.
nobara seems to consider it for a moment before responding. "kay, fine. but if i take you there and it's some abandoned warehouse-"
"then we'll drive away. no way in hell i'm about to die for this place." you assure nobara, putting her at ease.
you quickly don a thrifted gray hoodie and put your hair up in a messy bun. you don't care to put on any makeup, since you're probably gonna have to take it off anyway. if the day spa isn't shady and in an abandoned warehouse.
you quickly grab your keys and wallet before gesturing to nobara to leave. she sighs, looking at her phone one more time.
"fuck it, let's go before i change my mind."
"okay it says it's just right around the corn-"
"OH MY GOD?!" you're unable to hold back your disbelief as nobara took the corner to, what you think, might the chicest and prettiest boutique you've ever laid eyes on. the front was adorned with a gorgeous light blue awning with european style bell-shaped pendant lights making it almost glow during the day time.
"what the hell...ain't no way..." noabra is at a loss for words for how fancy it looks. "they have the money to rent out a place like this but no website?"
"or have a phone number." you mumble as you open nobara's car door. you turn around and give her a quick wave. she tells you to give her a call and tell her how it is after and you promise to do so. as nobara drives off, all the skepticism evaporates from your body looking at the dainty and cute decor all over the place.
you walk in to a fairly large lobby, with a desk in the middle and waiting chairs surrounding it. the calming scent of lavender, green tea, and patchouli hits your nose, and your guard immediately drops; the aroma relaxes you almost instantly.
you look around and are surprised to see only two other women in the waiting chairs on their phone. one of them seemed older, kind of like a mother, and the other seemed to be your age, but far more demure.
"hey, there! welcome to skin care daddy! we're determined to take care of you all your needs, no matter what! how can i help you today?" your head whips around to the guy sitting at the reception desk, and you feel a bit embarrassed; he must've noticed how lost you looked here, and you force yourself to straighten up and regain your composure as you slowly walk to the front desk. you take a closer at the guy with shaggy black hair sitting in the chair in front of you.
"hi..." you squint to see the faint print on his name badge. "yuta".
"yup! that's me!" he chirps. you know he probably has to exaggerate his good mood for the sake of the job but it kind of irks you. "what can i do for you today, miss?"
"yeah, uhh...what services do you guys offer? i tried looking online but you guys didn't have a website and..." your wandering eyes can't help but look around skeptically around the front desk and the doors on either side of the lobby.
"well, we offer whatever you need, miss. just tell us what you're looking for and we'll have it. i guarantee it."
"okay, well. my sister's getting married next weekend and..." you gesture to your face. "my life has been all sorts of stressful and hormonal so honestly, i'm just looking for something that can help me feel refreshed-"
you're interrupted by someone entering in from the right side of the lobby door. it's a woman who, you must say, looks glowing. her skin is bright and she quite looks like she's almost levitating. guiding her out of the spa is a young man, around your age, with blond hair and round glasses. he's unbelievably built, with strong hands rubbing her back softly and a chiseled jaw. he's wearing what you think is the uniform of this place: white dress shirt with the top two buttons undone and black slacks.
your breath gets caught in your throat momentarily. no fucking way. this guy works here? he's so fucking...hot. you have to force your eyes to tear away from him as you try your hardest to focus back on your conversation with yuta.
yuta chuckles as he follows your gaze. "ah, yes, mr. nanami is a customer favorite esthetician here. anyway, seems like you're going through a rough time and you came to the perfect place! normally, i would recommend the oxygen facial, but since you said you have a wedding..." yuta types something on the computer for a bit. "personally, i would recommend the full body tokyo special."
you're not entirely what an oxygen facial is, nor what the tokyo special is, and you feel even more stupid asking this guy who seems to be in college for more information.
"um, sorry, what's a full body tokyo special? i think i just need a really good facial."
"oh no worries, miss. i apologize. the full body tokyo special consists of a hands-on full body aromatherapy massage and our famous milkbomb facial, which'll do wonders for your skin." he winks at you. why did he wink at you?
you're unable to think about whether or not you even wanna do anything here when a group of men barge in through the left door of the lobby, laughing loudly, before lowering their voices.
one of the men is a dark haired man, seemingly a little older than the other two and yourself, but also very much ripped just like mr. nanami. you tried not to stare at the skin tight black shirt he wore that attenuated his pecs but miserably failed. he took the quickest glance at you and gave the faintest smile, revealing a slight scar on the left side of his lip. a scar that makes him sexier? you've gotta be kidding me. you follow his gaze to the older woman you saw sitting here when you came in, who know looks completely enamored by the man.
"there's my favorite mama," the man coos, holding an arm out for her as she skipped to him. he leads her to the other door, and you could hear them giggling and talking, as if this wasn't the first time they've seen each other.
"aight, see ya later, man." the other dark haired man said to his friend, before making eye contact with you, and then giving a slight smirk to yuta. he heads straight to the demure girl you saw when you walked in, and holds his hand out to her and she blushes and grabs it.
"th-thanks for seeing me again, geto-san." the girl says so softly that you have to strain your ears to listen.
"i told you to call me suguru..." you hear him joke as they disappear behind the door.
"like what you see?" you turn your head to the last guy, who now is far too close for your liking. you take a small step back, which makes him chuckle.
"yuta-kun! who do we have here?" the man asks boisterously. despite being indoors, he's wearing dark circled sunglasses. what a douche.
"oh, hey gojo-sensei. this is..." yuta looks at you, waiting for you to say your name.
"y/n." you say a bit too late, still trying to process the barrage of attractive men that just showed up all at once and what they had to do with the spa.
yuta starts filling in the man about what you were looking for, as you take in the man who's intently listening to him. he has white hair, and is wearing the same uniform as mr. nanami was, with three buttons undone and his hair slightly disheveled. he's also really tall. like really tall. like he towers over you easily tall. but also, just as well built like everyone else.
what is this place? you knew men could work in salons and parlors and spas, but this place seemed to be exclusively run by them. and not just any men, really attractive men. and what's worse is that you were not complaining. sure, it's a bit weird but there's really no other choice for you at this point.
"ahh, the tokyo special, huh?" he says, turning at you and giving you a bright smile which you suspect he gives to everyone who comes in here. "nice choice."
"he's the one who chose it, and i'm not even sure if i want it." you say, pointing to yuta, and trying your hardest to stand your ground. you have to really make sure this spa treatment is actually gonna help and not just a scam for your money.
"well, he chose right. i've never seen you here before, so you must be new here, right?" you nod, suddenly feeling really small and embarrassed about your attitude before. god, you're never one to behave badly in front of service workers. the hormones are really doing a number on your mood. maybe you could benefit from this "tokyo special".
he leans down to meet your eyes and takes off his sunglasses, and you’re face to face with the most gorgeous ocean blue eyes you've ever seen. through an almost hypnotic effect, you feel much calmer than you did before, and more trusting of him. "well, lucky for you, i've got an opening right now. i'll help you feel right at home." he gives you a wink, and you can't help but feel there's some other hidden meaning behind what he says.
"umm...well..." you say, holding on to the thin strings of your resolve.
"gojo-sensei is the best masseuse and esthetician here, especially for first timers like yourself, miss y/n. i guarantee you'll leave the establishment more than satisfied with his work." yuta assures you with a smile.
and with that, your resolve completely dissolves and you nod and hand him your credit card and he takes the information. gojo touches the small of your back ever so slightly, and you hope he doesn't feel you shiver at his touch.
"he just loves kissing up to me so he can get a full time job here after college. i'm his favorite cousin, after all." he says, making you giggle as you walk through the two panel doors into the spa.
"thanks for taking me in during your opening, mr. gojo." you say politely, feeling grateful as he leads you down the corridor of the neat, clean, and minimally decorated hallway.
"i think you're gonna be the one taking me in," gojo mumbles under his breath while opening the door to a room that looked like a doctor's office. a single lavender massage table greets you with small cabinets on either side.
you're unable to catch what he said. "what? did you say something?"
"i said call me satoru. no need to get so formal with me, i'm just some dude who works here." he chuckles. he locks the door as you sit up on the massage table awkwardly, unsure of how you should be positioning yourself or what exactly he was planning.
gojo goes to the corner and pulls out a fluffy white bathrobe and hands it to you. you're blown away by how soft it feels in your hands -- luxury at it's finest, you guess.
"okay, i just have a quick questionnaire i need you to fill out, probably will take around a minute," he says, as he grabs a clipboard with a pen attached to it from another drawer and takes a seat on a padded lab stool. he rolls closer to you until his long slender legs are almost touching your calves.
"alrighty here...okay, first question…” the questions gojo reads off are normal enough, with various clauses consenting to the spa treatment, confirming your age, and so forth. they don’t start getting weird until later. “ok last three, we’re almost done.” you notice a shit-eating grin on his face as he scribbles your answer to the previous question. “okay, are you a virgin?”
“what?!”
“are you a virg-”
“i heard you the first time. what kinda question is that? that’s so invasive, what the hell are you play-” you’re ready to give an entire speech to this guy about how inappropriate and irrelevant the question is.
“it’s fine if you don’t wanna answer it, i just can’t continue the treatment if you don’t.” gojo says this so simply and nonchalantly, as if the question was about your favorite color, and not an intimate detail about your sexuality.
“okay, fine. not a virgin.” you cross your hands in irritation.
“not…a...virgin…” you hear him say under his breath as he scribbles something you cannot see on his clipboard. you try leaning forward to see what he’s writing (and if there really was a question like that on the questionnaire but he quickly pulls it closer to his chest, giving you a teasing smirk. “are you on birth control?”
“y-yes?”
“good to know. last question: got any STDs i need to know about?”
oh, for fuck’s sake. this is ridiculous. does he think you’ve never been to a spa before? the usual thai place you go to never asks this many questions. “do you have any STDs i need to worry about? what is this? 20 questions?”
“you can ask them to me back, i’d be happy to answer them.” he says calmly with a coy smile. “in fact, i’ll answer them right now. no, no, and no.”
you sign in defeat. “no for me too.” maybe this is what happens when a place has like, ten thousand 5 star reviews on google maps. they just ask the weirdest questions. there’s a small voice berating yourself for folding so easily regarding his questions, but whatever. you’re ready to get this treatment over with.
“okay, take off all your clothes and wear the bathrobe. do you want me to step outside?”
what the hell kinda question is that? of course, he’s supposed to step outside? “um, yeah?” you say it almost obviously, not feeling bad about the attitude that’s coming out of you.
gojo raises his hand in surrender. “sorry, just askin’...” he grabs his clipboard and steps out of the room, saying he’ll be back in five minutes for the warm up massage. you quickly undress yourself. you have a feeling he’s the type to come in within seconds of knocking on the door without checking to see if you’re decent. you’re unsure where to place your clothes other than the table next to the cabinet so you neatly fold them, hiding your underwear and bra within the folds of your yoga pants and sweatshirt.
just as promised, gojo shows up five minutes later with one knock before welcoming himself in. he’s holding a dark colored glass bottle filled with a calming essential oil for massaging, and turns on the diffuser in the room.
“thanks for undressing,” he says, looking at the neatly folded pile of clothes on the counter. “alright, here’s how this is gonna go. i’m gonna give you a nice full body massage to loosen your muscles up, and then we do the facial last, sound good, princess?”
your skin tingles at him calling you that nickname, but you ignore it. there’s no way i can let my mind wander like that when he’s giving me a massage. you nod your head in agreement, and lay on your back slowly, fidgeting with the ends of your bathrobe so that you’re not totally exposed to him. gojo slowly hovers his hands over you and lightly touches your stomach, patting it to get your attention, but it causes you suck in a breath a bit too loudly.
“gotta go on your stomach for me for this one,” he says, urging you to flip around. “gonna undo this, okay?” he tugs at the knot you made on your bathrobe and you nod. he slowly undoes it, and you feel exposed as your breasts peek out through the sides. you cross your legs almost immediately, feeling incredibly exposed in front of a fully clothed gojo.
you quickly turn on your stomach before he has a chance to take in your body. you feel his cold fingers slowly expose your back, as he stops right before the hump of your ass. you hear him squeezing out some of the oil and warming it up in his hands as he gets to work on your back.
you suck in a sharp breath between your teeth as his cold fingers explore the knots on your back.
“cold isn’t it? you’ll get used to my fingers, promise,” he says sweetly, as he hits a spot on your back that’s been particularly bothering you as of late. it’s too late when you let out a moan, and you hear him chuckle. “hit the right spot, didn’t i?”
he continues to undo the knot on your back, and moan back a breathy affirmation as you continue to try (and fail) to hold back your noises. “f-fuck, gojo, that feels s-so good…” you say in between his movements.
you feel his hot breath in your ear. “told ya to call me satoru, don’t forget it next time, princess.” this time, the nickname goes straight to your pussy. it’s hard to cross your legs when you’re on your stomach and feeling delirious with the pleasure that came from the pressure of his slender fingers.
unbeknownst you, your soft moans are slowly making their way down to gojo’s member, as he gets harder by the second. he doesn’t want to make it so obvious just yet – he’s just getting start after all. he can’t just blow his load this close into the session, but you’re sure as hell giving him a run for his money.
“feel good?” you moan in response. gojo slowly inches his fingers down closer and closer to your ass, until it reaches the hem of your bathrobe covering it. “gonna move this down so i can do your legs, yeah?”
gojo will admit, he was a bit too excited to see your ass as he removed your bathrobe down before you could give a proper “yes” but it didn’t matter when you’re soft breaths were giving him the answer he needed. it takes everything in him to not knead the rounds of your perfect ass (he swears your cheeks were made for his hands) and move straight to your calves.
he slowly massages the soles of your feet and calves with the oil as he moves closer to your thighs, all while relishing in your sweet moans. once he’s at your thighs, the real fun begins. gojo knows this routine like the back of his hands.
you hear him sigh in confusion. “is everything okay?” you turn your head slightly to see him.
“sorry about this princess, but you’re gonna have to spread your legs a little bit for me. it’s hard to get every inch of you warmed up, otherwise.”
you obey him almost too easily, and shift your thighs so that there’s more room for him to touch with his fingers. gojo’s hands reach up to slightly cup your ass, before his thumbs slowly slide into your inner thigh, lightly massaging you.
your breaths are getting shallower and louder, and you pray he doesn't go any closer to your pussy so he doesn’t see how soaked you are. you’ve never had a massage like this before, but you also don’t want him to stop.
gojo’s fingers play with the space of your inner thigh before he spreads you apart, exposing you. you breath catches in your throat, and he performs the next part of his act.
“we’ve got a pretty unconventional way of massaging our clients, princess.” you hear his voice straining. “gotta make sure you’re relaxed everywhere, but you gotta let me take care of you. think you can do that? all you have to do is relax, and let daddy do everything for you.” you can hear the lust dripping from his voice, but to be honest, you couldn’t give a shit at this point.
“y-yeah, please, satoru, whatever you want. please, i just…i just feel so good right now,” you say, your eyes shut tight, and your hips practically squirming under his touch. you think you might go insane if he doesn’t touch you there in the next second.
hook, line, and sinker. who’s gojo to deny your request? he graduated top of his class at his cosmetology and esthetician university, after all. his fingers glide almost too easily between your folds as he starts playing with your throbbing core. he can feel how needy your pussy is for his hands as he spreads your slick all over your core.
the pleasure immediately gets caught in the pillow that muffles your moans. fuck, so this is what all the reviews were talking about. you feel his fingertips dancing around your clit and you want to shout at him to pay attention to it.
“s-satoru~ p-please…i need you right there…” you say in between your moans.
“where? here?” gojo’s finger taps your clit lightly, and it makes your entire body twitch with pleasure. he has to press down on the small of your back to keep you place as his fingers rub circles around your bundle of nerves, making you whimper. you unconsciously grind your hips against his fingers, trying to get close to your release.
“need a better angle. face down, ass up.” gojo commands, and your body conforms to his words. you prop your lower body up with your knees while your face is sideways against the head of the massage table. he uses this now better angle to really rub his fingers into your folds and bundle of nerves, sending electricity throughout your body. you feel the dam building up inside you and threatening to break.
“satoru~ i’m-i’m getting c-close…ah~” you hands grip on to the sides of the massage table as you brace for the earth shattering orgasm to rip through you, and with gojo’s deft fingers, you’re on cloud nine in no time.
your body slumps back down and your eyes roll back as the vibrations of your release still radiate through your body. you hear your pulse pumping through your head as you try to catch you breath, but you feel gojo’s now warm hands flip you on your back, and his face inches from yours.
“you took that so well, princess. we’re not done, yet. there’s still another part of your body that needs to warm up.” you don’t have time to process what he means as he inserts two fingers into his mouth and then deep inside your entrance. your gasp is muffled by his mouth connecting to yours, hard, teeth and all. his fingers are long, and they easily find your sensitive g-spot as they curl upwards and bully your internal bundle of nerves. it’s quite embarrassing how quickly you’re ready for another release, and how hungry your entrance was for his finger, practically sucking them in and clenching around them immediately.
“f-fuck~ i’m about to-” you don’t get to finish your sentence, as another orgasm rips through your body. gojo kisses you again to block your moans, and your hands wrap around his neck to pull him even closer to you. he playfully bites on your lower lip as you ride out your release on his fingers.
gojo’s kisses turn into soft quick pecks as your breathing steadies and your eyes can focus again. “we’re not done yet,” he teases, slowly taking his slick coated fingers out of you.
you don’t even have the energy to respond back as he flips you on you back. through heavy eyes, you look back up at him, biting back a moan as he restarts rubbing circles on your extremely sensitive clit. he needs to take off his shirt and fuck you already.
“need something?” gojo teases, sensing your neediness from just your eyes.
“take off your shirt, dumbass.” you say through gritted teeth.
“try again.” he presses harder on your clit, and you let out an unsanctioned yelp through your teeth.
“f-fuck~ please take off your shirt, dumbass.”
he smiles. “well, if you insist…” he rolls his eyes, feigning inconvenience, but the slowly growing tent in his pants says otherwise. gojo unbuttons his shirt, revealing a perfectly sculpted torso. now this is just unfair.
“geez, my eyes are up here.” he teases, smirking at you as you quickly meet his eyes and feel your face flush. he unbuckles his belt and you slowly sit up from the massage table. you’re overcome with the urge to touch him, everywhere. you hook your finger to the belt loop of his pants and pull him closer to you.
gojo smirks as he wraps his arms around hips and leans down to kiss you deeply. you feel your core ache for his touch again as his tongue explores your mouth again. you trace his perfectly sculpted torso, the indents of his abs slightly sweaty to your touch. your hands slowly make their way to the zipper of his slacks, but gojo immediately grabs your wrist to stop you from taking them fully off.
“not just yet…” he murmurs in between kisses. while his lips are still locked on you, he slowly pushes your body back on the massage table and starts kissing down your bare stomach, the measly bathrobe long since discarded somewhere on the floor. gojo leaves small wet kisses along your body until he reaches your inner thighs.
you suck in a breath as you involuntarily spread your legs for him, earning an enthusiastic hum from gojo, who’s still continuing to leave a trail of kisses that are inching closer and closer to where you need his mouth to be the most. “p-please~” you moan, your eyes closed in bliss.
“please what, princess? use your words,” gojo coos, coming face to face with your soaking wet core. he blows on the sensitive bundle of nerves, causing your legs to twitch.
you can’t stand his fucking teasing but you need to be eaten out, so bad. “f-fuck y-you, gojo~” you say, pushing your core up to his face, trying to aim for his mouth before he easily pushes your hips back on the table. you hear him tsk in disapproval, and tears welling up in your eyes in desperation. “please, your tongue…inside me…please~” you whimper weakly.
“since you begged so nicely…” gojo says before he immediately plunges his tongue inside you, almost making you scream. his tongue expertly explores your folds and sucks on your clit, making you inadvertently grind on his face. “y’taste so delicious, princess,” he says between licks as he eats you out like it’s the last pussy on earth.
his ministrations with his tongue has you teetering on the edge in record time, and you’re threatening to spill within minutes of him eating you out. as the third wave of pleasure washes over you, you don’t have the energy in you to ask for permission as you feel your body tingle in the aftermath of it. you think you made a mess all over the massage table and gojo’s face, but you don’t have it in you to care as your eyes roll back.
you feel gojo unbuckle his belt and take off his slack and underwear, exposing his hard member in his hands. you can see the precum leaking out the tip as you weakly lean on your elbows to prop yourself up.
“see, princess, all those questions did have a reason after all…” he says in between breaths as he strokes himself, looking at your naked glistening body. you spread your legs further in anticipation of feeling him. “but there you were, being such a fuckin’ brat about answering them…” gojo says, eyebrows furrowing as he brings his tip closer to your core and you bite your lip in anticipation.
“guess you better fuck the attitude outta me, then?” you say, looking up at him through heavy lidded eyes filled with mindless lust. you don’t even care about the consequences or who hears or even if you get your facial – you just need him. every part of your body craved him.
gojo wastes no time at your suggestion, his tip entering you as you let out a lecherous moan. you feel the initial pain of his larger than average member tearing your tight entrance apart, and bite back a moan. gojo grits his teeth as he lets out a steady throaty groan.
“fuck, princess. so fuckin’ tight. sure you’re not a virgin?”
“s’too much satoru, y-you’re huge…ahh~”
“too bad, princess.” he says, surprising you as he starts thrusting agonizingly slowly into you, bottoming out and effectively reaching the sensitive spot inside you. pain slowly turns into pleasure as you indulge in the feeling of your g-spot getting kissed by his member – the spot that you can never reach by yourself using your own fingers.
“f-faster, please~” you urge gojo, and he obliges almost immediately, quickening his pace. he bullies your sloppy and wet core, as he watches your titties bounce with every thrust. unlike most people his age, it’s times like this where gojo realizes he really fucking loves his job.
he reaches out and gives your titties a rough squeeze while he remains unrelenting in his pace. he feels your pussy clench around him, and he knows you’re close, and if he’s being honest, so is he. but he cannot cum just yet, and definitely not before you do. gojo abandons your titties and slides down his fingers to your clit as he starts rubbing inelegant circles around it, getting you closer and closer to the edge.
you feel the dam breaking once again as the combination of him rubbing and fucking you comes to a climax. the orgasm travels to every corner of your body, as you see stars in your vision while gojo fucks your brains out. you hold on to his shoulders to steady yourself. based on how sloppily gojo is getting, you can tell he’s about to get close, too. you’re about to brace for him to finish inside you, when he abruptly pulls out, earning him a confused look from you.
“lay down,” he commands more than asks, as he hastily pushes your chest down on the massage table. your sweaty skin sticks to the faux leather, but you don’t pay attention as he moves to the side of your face, holding his soaked member near it.
gojo starts stroking his throbbing leaking member sensually, and you innately open your mouth and stick your tongue out. so this is the facial? the dots connected in your head at the same time gojo’s ropes of warm cum decorated your face – chin, cheeks, mouth, and all. you hear gojo’s throaty groans as he finishes on you and make sure not a single drop that gets on or near mouth gets wasted, swallowing pridefully.
gojo leans closer to your ear as he catches his breath from his climax. “that’s the milkbomb facial,” he says cheekily, and you can’t help but giggle. you both take a couple more seconds to catch your breath. you watch gojo as he puts on his pants and tucks in his shirt, looking like he didn’t just fuck the shit out of you. he runs his fingers through his hair quickly as he goes to the counter and pulls out a warm eucalyptus towel as he takes his time to gently wipe your face and body.
“that was fun,” you murmur, looking at the ceiling, finally understanding what the reviews you read about this earlier place meant. you definitely came here, multiple times in one day for sure.
gojo chuckles as he goes over to wash his hands and you notice his forearms are glistening with your release. “that’s why we’re the best spa out here, princess.”
you notice your legs shaking slightly, but you manage to hop off the massage table, slightly dazed. gojo notices and helps you get on your feet and put on your clothes. the entire activity is soft and gentle compared to how he was just a couple minutes before.
everything that you both have done in the past hour finally dawns on you, and you suddenly feel very shy despite whatever the contrary happened on the massage table. it’s so awkward now, like, what do you guys even talk about now? does he do this to everyone? is this their entire schtick?
“do you…do this with all your clients?” you whisper to him as you follow him out into the hallway to the exit. you cross your hands tightly to your chest, as if it’s shrouding you from other people finding out what happened in the room behind you.
“ah, i’m not one to kiss and tell.” gojo puts his hands in his pockets and glances back at you, giving you a quick wink as you follow behind him, trying to keep up with him as he turns corners.s
“oh, so you do do this everyone, huh?” you challenge, your shyness slowly melting away with gojo’s playful tone..
“did you enjoy it?”
a pause from you.. “yes.”
“then don’t worry about it, kitten.” gojo pauses before he opens the door and turns to you. “listen, i wouldn’t mind if you came here again for the tokyo special, you know. i’ll even give you a discount, too.” he says earnestly.
you let out a giggle. “oh? a discount?”
“yeah, the tight pussy discount.”
“shut up!” you say, and you playfully smack his shoulder, and you both laugh.
“so… is that a yes? i’ll see you next week?”
you bite your lip. “maybe, i dunno.” you give him a wink before opening the door, and you both know fully well that you’ll be back on the massage table again in no time with gojo pounding into you.
needless to say, gojo wasn’t lying when he said they were the best spa in town because by the time your sister’s wedding came around, your face was quite literally glowing.
“wow! y/n – you’re just looking so radiant today! what’s your secret?” an auntie who’s name you cannot remember gleams, looking at you.
you smirk, and try to hold back the heat from flushing your cheeks. “oh, just a really good facial,” you say. technically, you’re being honest, right?
“jesus, dude. is this all from skin care daddy?” nobara says, as the tenth person from the wedding compliments your skin.
“you have no idea. they really know what they’re doing.” you say nonchalantly. you pull out your phone and text a recently saved number.
you: got any slots for a tokyo special tomorrow?
within minutes you get a response:
gojo: u know i do babygirl. btw a new guy just joined our spa. hope it’s cool sukuna joins to observe 😈
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#gojou satoru#satoru gojo#satoru gojou#gojo x reader#gojou x reader#gojo#gojo smut#jjk smut#jjk x reader#gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x y/n#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk gojo#jjk x y/n#gojo x you#gojou satoru x y/n#gojou satoru x reader#gojou satoru x you
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Introductions
Hardersson x Daughter!Reader
Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader
Part of The Big Adeventures Universe
Summary: Natalia meets your parents as your girlfriend
Pernille wishes that they could make the trip to Spain to see you more often. But with their own work schedules plus flight times and your own training, it was difficult sometimes.
But, it was all worth it when she and Magda got out of arrivals to see your beaming face waiting for them.
"Princesse!" Pernille pulls you in for a hug, cradling your face and inspecting you.
The Spanish sun has been good for you. You're practically glowing as you take Pernille's hand in one of your own and Magda's in the other.
"How has training been?" Magda asks as you all make the trek to where you've parked your car.
"Good," You reply," We've got that match against Eibar at the weekend so we've been training pretty hard."
"You're top of the table," Magda reminds you," You can't be having to train that hard."
You shrug. "Talia says she'll cook dinner if I keep a clean sheet."
"That's nice of her," Pernille cuts in when she sees Magda's eye twitch.
Your crush on Natalia has been going on for years now and Magda's never fully come around to it. In her eyes, you were still that little toddler who moved from Germany to England. You were too young to have a crush, least of all a crush on a flirty Spanish girl who practically had a salacious smirk on her face all the time.
Magda had always imagined that your first official crush would be on someone like Jessie. You'd had a childhood crush on her for years (even if you had never actually realised it) so Magda had just assumed that people like Jessie were your type.
Natalia and her flirtations were out of left field.
"Talia doesn't cook often," You explain as you slip into your car," But she makes this amazing pasta dish that I've been craving for weeks."
"That sounds wonderful," Pernille says," I'm looking forward to seeing you play this weekend. We tune into your matches whenever we can."
As the topic moves on from Natalia's, Magda finds herself relaxing.
It's not that she doesn't like Natalia. Natalia is a great girl but you're Magda's baby. She doesn't want to have to imagine you kissing a girl or falling into bed with one. You're her only child and the idea of you moving away to Spain and potentially never coming back was almost too much to handle.
"I saw that match against Real Madrid," Magda says instead," That was a fantastic dive."
"The shot winded me a little bit," You reply proudly, turning onto the street with your apartment," But I'm glad I caught it. I was a little worried that I wouldn't."
"You're the best keeper in the world," Pernille says," Of course you were going to stop it."
Your cheeks turn a little pink as you turn off the car. "We don't know that. That PSG keeper-"
"You'll win it," Magda says," I can feel it in my bones. You'll see at the end of the year. You'll win."
You don't respond to that as your cheeks flush a deeper colour, making your way up the elevator to your apartment.
"Prins is fully trained now," You say proudly as you unlock your door," And he's bilingual. Talia is trying to teach him Spanish but he's refusing."
"Good," Magda says," I knew there was a reason I liked him."
Your apartment is different to how it was when she and Pernille left you there. It's more homey and cosy. Rocky the Rock was still on one of the shelves with girl-swan and girl-moose. Everything still had a place but it felt more lived in now.
A few of Prins' toys were scattered around on the floor and there were soft blankets strewn around the room.
Prins yaps happily at seeing you all, wandering over to get tickles behind the ear from Pernille, who happily crouches down to give them to him.
She glances around slightly, feeling just like Magda that there is something different about your home.
A cat tree was wedged in one corner, with a beautiful long-furred calico sleeping in one of the little caves. There was a Barcelona training shirt that didn't have your number on it hanging over the armrest of the sofa.
There were shoes that weren't your size on the floor.
But, the real kicker was the soft footsteps coming closer and closer.
"Hola," Natalia says as she appears around the corner.
Your face brightens up as soon as you see her, only getting happier and happier as she drops a soft kiss on your lips before moving over to the kitchen area without a care in the world.
Prins goes to follow her, wagging his tail as she throws him down a treat. The beautiful cat from earlier also crawls out from her nap spot to get treats too.
Pernille has to stifle her laugh as Magda stares, a finger coming up to point between you and Natalia, who was now happily humming as she grabbed some butter from the fridge.
"I...You...She..." Magda stutters out," What?!"
"Mi vida," Natalia says," Did you want the normal bread or the fancy bread?"
"Fancy, please," You reply," Morsa, is something wrong?"
Magda's still stuttering, not fully able to articulate her thoughts as she gestures wildly.
Pernille laughs, looping her arm around Magda's waist in comfort. "I think your Morsa is just a bit confused. She wasn't expecting Natalia to be here too."
You frown. "But why? Talia lives here too?"
"What?!" Magda demands.
You give her a funny look. "She's lived here for weeks now. Did I forget to tell you?"
"Mi vida," Natalia says," Why don't we sit down. Sorry, Miss Eriksson, Miss Harder, did you want a sandwich too? I forgot to ask."
"That would be lovely, thank you, Natalia," Pernille says as she guides Magda to sit at the kitchen table," I'll have some ham if you have it and Magda's the same."
Magda barely looks mentally present in the room, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.
It's very clear from the way that Natalia's moving around that she's trying to make a good impression. She's met Magda and Pernille before but that was when she was on Spain's youth team. Meeting them now as your girlfriend is different from back then.
Of course, both Magda and Pernille knew that she's been your girlfriend for a while now. You'd been very excited to tell them but Natalia moving in with you must have slipped your mind.
Natalia looks unbelievably nervous as she slides the sandwiches in front of Pernille and Magda, taking up the empty seat opposite them and next to you.
The cat from earlier leaps up onto the table, brushing her bushy tail against Natalia's face before jumping down again to wander back to her cat tree.
"That's Reina," You say proudly," She's Talia's cat."
"I can see that," Pernille says fondly," She's beautiful."
"I brush her every day," Natalia says, puffing out her chest. She's really laying it on thick. She made a sandwich for everyone. She's showing off how responsible she is by bragging about her cat's stunning pelt. She's taking care not to touch you as much as Pernille knows she wants to. She's really trying to make a good impression.
Magda laughs sardonically. "I mean," She says," You've really made yourself at home, haven't you?"
"Morsa!" You snap and Magda jolts.
You very rarely raise your voice, least of all at her but it's clear she's rubbed you up the wrong way. You seem to regret it though because your eyes dart back down to stare at the grain of the table.
Your voice stays firm though. "Don't be mean. This is Natalia's home too."
"Magda," Pernille says and it's funny how similar to two of you are," We're having a grownup conversation here. Be polite."
Magda sighs deeply. Her hand clenches into a fist and then unclenches again. She expels all of her breath.
"How long have you been moved in together?" Her voice is softer now, more welcoming but it's clear to Pernille that Natalia is still a little on edge.
"Nearly two months," You say," I think it's going really well!"
"It is," Natalia says, finally getting a bit more of her usual confidence back," We're doing very well together...Miss Eriksson."
Magda pulls a face. "Don't call me that," She says," It makes me feel old. I'm not old."
That gets you smiling again and the hand you've hidden under the table moves up to rest on it, showing that you've laced it tightly with Natalia's.
"You're old enough to have a twenty year old," You tease and that gets Natalia smiling down.
She's practically beaming at you, looking at you like you've hung the moon and the stars and the planets turned with you at the centre.
Magda doesn't like it. She doesn't want anyone looking at you like that. She doesn't want people to be attracted to you. You're her baby, the little baby who used to fit so perfectly in her arms and used to sneak into the big bed and speak German just to annoy her.
But you're grown up now and she can't think of anyone else she'd rather have look at you like you were their whole world than Natalia.
"So," Magda says begrudgingly," Natalia, I hear that you make really good pasta."
#woso x reader#hardersson x reader#pernille harder x reader#pernille harder#magdalena eriksson x reader#magdalena eriksson#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso#The Big Adventures Universe
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PRIZE —ryōmen sukuna
—summary: You and Sukuna make a bet. He doesn't clarify what he wants if he wins. It's okay; you'll find out soon enough.
—cw: f!reader, stepcest, otherwise pretty tame today
—wc: 1,4k // also on ao3
“So, do you even do anything on the court or do you just stand there and look pretty?”
Sukuna turns to you, brows raised. The corner of his lips curls up in amusement. “Just because you don’t understand how the game works doesn’t mean I don’t do anything,” he counters, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement makes his biceps bulge and you allow your eyes to linger on them momentarily before you meet his gaze again.
“Prove your worth, then,” you shrug your shoulders once and tilt your body to the side to get a glimpse of the people doing their last warm-up exercises on the basketball court. “Earn a lot of points, be the MVP. Win, or do whatever it is you do.”
He eyes the way you’re leaned to the side and the way you pull yourself straight again and shift your attention away from his teammates, head tilted, now staring at him through your pretty lashes. He likes this angle. You’re not that much shorter than him, but this, this angle he likes, and finds himself wanting to place his hand on your jaw and tilt it up.
“Let’s make it a bet, then.”
You purse your lips, narrow your eyes.
“Alright,” you cede, tilting your head the other way. “If you suck out there, you make me a second bento for a week so I don’t have to grab something from the convenience store on the way to my language classes. And if you win—”
“When I win.”
You roll your eyes. “If you win… I don’t know, what do you want?”
“I can choose anything?”
“Yes, unless it brings me physical, psychological, emotional or reputational harm.”
Sukuna is quiet for a few moments, staring at you with a new intensity. It sends a shiver down your spine and you take a quick breath in to dispel the jitter in your veins. Then, he holds out his hand.
“Deal.” He grins, broad and charming when you accept and shake on the deal. He motions to the overhead level where a crowd has gathered — mostly girls, probably from all years if you had to venture a guess — his other hand between your shoulder blades, pushing you towards the stairs. “Enjoy the show.”
To his credit, he’s good. It takes a while for the game to get going, but when it does, he’s fast, almost graceful in the way he dodges around the other team’s players to make his way to the net. He stops, sneakers squeaking against the vinyl, and throws the ball. It’s a clean shot. His teammates pat him on the back and the girls around you cheer.
Your eyes meet and Sukuna stops, turns his body towards you, and does a small, almost mocking bow. The crowd around you explodes in a cacophony of screaming and you place your hands over your ears.
He sure is popular.
The games pass in a blur. Sukuna keeps up easily, netting point after point after point. Each time, the cheers of your peers threaten to deafen you. Then, the last game is called, the teams shake hands and everything winds down. People still linger when the teams are stretching and cleaning up. You even spot a few volunteering themselves for help.
Sukuna doesn’t say anything about the bet when you meet up after he’s showered and dressed and parted with his teammates. You congratulate him and he beams like you’ve never seen before, eyes bright and hair slicked back, curling at the ends. He doesn’t bring your bet up even at the dinner table or when you’re all winding down in the living room, everyone piled onto the couch and the armchairs. Your parents congratulate him on a successful match and his smile returns full force, launching into a play-by-play for everyone that wasn’t present. You almost think he’s forgotten about your bet by the time the lights are all out in the house.
Until there’s a knock on your bedroom door as you’re getting ready for bed. The clock on your laptop screen stares at you. Just minutes from midnight. You unlock your door and crack it open just enough to see Sukuna on the other side, leaning against the doorway with his hands in his sweats’ pockets. The outline of his cock is obvious against the fabric and you let your eyes linger on it for the fraction of a second before you raise them to meet his. You almost, almost get distracted by his lack of shirt. He notices.
“I figured out what I wanted,” he announces with an easy grin.
“Right now?” You glance at the clock again, then back to him. Sukuna nods. You pull your door open just enough for him to slip in. “Need I remind you the clause about physical, psychological—”
“Emotional and reputational harm. I got it; I took ‘em all into account.” He wanders a few steps deeper into your room as the lock on your bedroom door triggers and picks up the cat-shaped nightlight on your dresser. He smacks it once. It turns purple. He smacks it again and the light changes to warm white.
“So?” You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly rethinking your nearly non-existent sleeping attire. Summer is warm and stuffy; there’s no point in sweating through the night when you can keep your clothing to a minimum and the window cracked open. Cheeky shorts and a thin, cropped shirt help ward off the usual heat. Now there’s a different type of heat simmering under your skin.
“I want a kiss,” he says, placing the nightlight back onto the dresser. “A nice, proper kiss.”
“Why?” You shrug your shoulders when he gives you an incredulous look. “No, I mean like— you had so many girls practically throwing themselves at you during and after the game-meet-thingy; you could get a kiss from anyone.”
“Yeah, I could.” He closes what little distance separates you and hooks his knuckles under your chin. His other hand rests on your hip, draws lazy circles into the flesh. It sends a jolt down your spine, like livewire in your veins. “But I want it from you.” His breath fans your lips. Heat rushes to your face.
You shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t ruin your parents’ relationship with something so messy, something like this, something that’ll only blow up in your faces down the line. But he’s all-encompassing, taking up your whole vision, everywhere is him and only him, his eyes glued to your lips.
Sukuna closes the gap. His mouth is slow on yours, his lips warm, slightly chapped. You really shouldn’t—
His hands skirt under your sleeping shirt, and travel up your torso, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Thumbs graze your nipples and you arch into his chest, gasp into his mouth. He swallows the sound, eager and hungry. His tongue slips into your mouth. The heat bubbling under your skin spreads through your body, has your pulse living in your throat. Your hands rest on his shoulders, nails digging into the flesh. He grunts against your mouth, digs his teeth into your bottom lip and suddenly you’re lightheaded, his hands anchoring you to place, keeping you from floating off into space. His chest is pressed to yours, large warm hands on your ribs and then down, down, until one rests on the small of your back and he pulls you into him, hip to hip. His cock is stiff against your thigh.
You’re the first one to pull away, hands firmly on his shoulders when you nudge him backwards. Sukuna’s cheeks are flushed in the faint light of your cat-shaped nightlight, lips glossy, eyes half-lidded, breath loud in the confines of your bedroom, hands still on your body.
You inhale slowly but it does little to knock some breath back into your lungs. Your chest is heaving — so is his — and yet you step aside, unlock your bedroom door and pull it ajar. He slips out just as easily as he’d slipped in, his touch lingering as he takes his escape.
When you hear his bedroom door open, you lean into the hallway, calling out his name in a whisper. He looks over, hand on the doorknob, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. “If… if you want to keep… this,” you motion between him and yourself, “going, get some chapstick, dude.”
You close the door and lock it.
banners by @/cafekitsune.
#jjk x reader#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#sukuna x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#ryomen sukuna x you#jjk x you#stepcest
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Pieces of a Woman | Bonus
Text Divider by @saradika-graphics
SUMMARY | In the aftermath of the Battle Above The God's Eye, a mad widow weeps.
WARNINGS | 18+; Canon Divergence AU; Insanity; B&C; Gore; Delusions; Yearning; Major Character Death; ANGST.
WORD COUNT | 1.2k
A/N | Not beta read. To be read as an accompaniment to this one shot, but I suppose it works as a standalone too. Repost from my old blog.
There is a chill in the air that she does not like.
The white shift that she wore was too thin to allow her any semblance of warmth, and she is reminded of that as the cold air hits her form. Her days are long and her nights are lonely, each moment taking longer to pass than it should as she sits quietly, rocking herself back and forth with her hands hugging her knees. A loud thunderstorm strikes through the Keep - it is scary and loud enough to make her whimper and mumble into her hands.
“Aemond, Aemond, Aemond,” she repeats over and over.
Her eyes are an endless pit, having lost all their charm from months of isolated confinement. Her hands are frail, and they shake incessantly even when there is nothing within her line of sight to scare her. Her once beautiful hair is now unkempt and dry, falling around the sides of her hair like a dark, damning curtain.
Aemond loved my hair, she thinks. He always thought I had beautiful hair.
Aemond is dead.
She continues to cry, her eyes a mad, murderous red as the tears fall freely down her cheek.
Aemond would have wiped them off, she thinks. He would have kissed my forehead and told me I’d be alright.
Aemond is dead.
It is a rare moment of clarity, this moment in time. She does not have them often anymore, she knows. In times like this, she has always heard servants whispering about her apparent behaviour when she was not conscious of her being.
“Madness. She’s gone mad, the poor thing,” the servant maid had whispered outside her doors one night. “Absolute shame. She scratched the poor Prince’s face out yesterday!”
Aemond, Aemond, Aemond. Her husband, her love, hers.
Not anymore.
She lifts her hands and cries, her tears a seemingly endless stream. She had hurt the man she loved with these very hands - her nails had dried blood on them, and she doesn't know where it could have come from. Was it Aemond’s blood? She does not know. Has she been scratching her own skin out?
She stands up and screams as the words continue to ring in her weak, fragile mind. “Aemond is dead. Your husband fought valiantly, Your Grace,” the servant maid had said. In a fit of anger, she takes the book - Ten Thousand Ships - left strewn about on her bedside. She does not know who had brought it, or where it had come from - all she knows is that they did not believe her worthy enough to deliver the news to her themselves, and had sent a servant maid to relay it to her.
She was everything to Aemond. She is worth nothing to them.
The realization hits her harsher than the gust of wind that she is now trying to shield herself from as she cries and tears the book to shreds. The pages fly about before they fall to the ground like light noiseless water drops. She continues to tear at it to her heart’s content and cries, cries, cries - but it is not enough. It is never enough.
Aemond is dead.
She does not remember much from when they were married - just that she had a husband who loved her enough to keep her. Was there a son? She remembers a baby boy. Was he hers? Was he Aemond’s? Where was he?
Aemond is dead.
She grips the hem of her shift and bends down to let her head rest on the cold, unmade bed. Her sobs are muffled by the cushions as they permeate the air in groans and whines. She then sits on the same bed and continues to weep - for what, she struggles to recall - only for a moment before it hits her again.
Aemond is dead.
She does not recognize the movement of her hands as she hugs herself. Her nails dig deep into the flesh of her arms as she weeps, rocking herself back and forth once more. Her cries are loud, louder and louder still, almost as though she was shouldering the sadness of the entire Keep. How could she not, after all she had been through?
Aemond is dead.
She is a dark silhouette in a greying room, a scary sight in her shift and untamed hair let loose. The servants treat her like she is some sort of wild animal, one that they are afraid of being eaten and hurt by. She has not known the love of her family in what seems like years, and she does not remember all the nights that her husband had come to give her warmth and comfort.
Aemond is dead.
But who was Aemond?
Her thoughts fluctuate constantly - one moment she knows, one moment she does not. One moment she was in his arms, and the next she was screaming at him to let her die. Die, die, die. The words have taken over her completely in this moment and her feet carry her to the large window of their own accord. The young Princess, a new widow, steps on the ledge and watches the grounds of the city as it sleeps in the pale moonlight.
Die, die, die. Aemond was dead. Dead. Who was Aemond? Who is he? A husband. Aemond? A baby?
Her feet sway just slightly as she regains her balance, and she turns back to look around the room as she spots the torn pages. True to her madness, despite her confusion all this time, her thoughts oscillate once more. Ten Thousand Ships, a gift from… Aemond. A man who loved her more than she could even try, a man she loved back with all that she ever was.
But who was Aemond?
She breathes out raggedly, heavily, audibly - waiting for the loudness in her mind to stop as she clutches her head tight with her palms and covers her ears. But it does not, it never does.
Madwoman… wife… a son… a Prince… poor thing… once a beautiful, happy girl born in the spring… dead. Aemond was dead.
In her last moment of unhinged grief, one of the pages flies about and she remembers.
Aemond was her husband. Aemond loved her. Aemond wanted her to get better. Aemond wanted her to be safe. Aemond wanted her to love him again. Aemond wanted her to come back to him. Aemond did not want her to die.
Aemond, Aemond, Aemond…
She remembers. She remembers happy days when she had been a wife and a mother. She remembers better days when she was beautiful and happy and had a husband who worshipped the ground she walked on; in whose eyes she could do no wrong.
She remembers safe arms around her, kisses to her temple, rough thrusts into her cunt. She remembers her hands holding onto his, his warm breath fanning her face, sweet nothings whispered in her ear. She remembers him reading to her in his low voice, in rumbling whispers that made her giggle once upon a time. She remembers and knows that Aemond did not want her to die.
Die, die, die. Aemond did not want her to-
It happens quickly.
Her foot slips and she falls, falls, falls. It is seemingly never-ending and she does not scream. She makes no noise as she sees windows and bricks zoom past her, looking at them briefly at an angle she never has before. Her shift billows above her knees and her hair flies in all directions and she falls, falls, falls…
Until she abruptly lands.
The warmth of the blood pooling below her head is a last moment of comfort for her. The last thing she sees is the blurring sight of thick, viscous blood seeping through her hair, coloring the floor red.
Not my hair, she thinks with her dying breath. Aemond loved my hair. He always thought I had beautiful hair.
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MASTERLIST
#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen x female reader#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond targaryen smut#ewan mitchell#aemond x fem!reader#aemond x you#aemond x reader#aemond x y/n#aemond smut#aemond fanfic#aemond targaryen fic#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond fanfiction#aemond one eye#prince aemond targaryen#prince aemond#aemond targaryen x ofc#aemond targaryen x oc#aemond targaryen fan fiction#aemond fic#aemond#pro aemond targaryen#aemond stannies#aemond angst#aemond targaryen angst#aemond targaryen fanfiction
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savior | jason todd
Summary: Red Hood is the stuff of nightmares. Red Hood is no hero. Red Hood is your best friend.
Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader
Word count: 1.4k
Warnings/tags: angsttt, reader is afraid of red hood and they discover that he's jason, injured and kidnapped reader, emotional hurt no comfort.
A/N: hey guys! i didn't know what the hell to write so. this is what i came up with. hope ya like it :) if you like this fic, lmk through comments and reblogs!
the divider
“You fucked up!”
You wince at the shouting and the ringing in your ears. You try to sit up but that makes things hurt, so you lie still and listen.
"What? You said pick a civilian!”
"I don't give a fuck what I said; obviously, you screwed up! He's not coming!"
You close your eyes, trying not to throw up on your gag.
Batman? Batman isn't coming?
No, that can't be. Batman knows everything that happens in his city. He wouldn't abandon a civilian in need.
You try to take a deep breath, but your chest tightens instead. Jason's probably tearing his hair out if he's home from work. He always stresses safety, to the point of paranoia.
Lock your doors. Don't walk down this street. Did you get home okay? Text me when you get home.
You hope Batman's out there, somewhere. Or any of the Bats. You don't want to die. You really, really don't want to die.
Thump!
Something hits the ground. There's a shout.
“You fucking shitheads! You were supposed to check the—”
Gunfire erupts suddenly, and you tuck your head between your knees as best as you can, with your hands and ankles bound.
Thump! Thump!
More bodies hit the ground. But Batman doesn't do guns.
"What the fuck is this?" comes a distorted voice.
Your blood chills.
"H-Hood!” one of the kidnappers squeaks. “Sh-shit. What’re you doin’ here?”
“Protecting Gotham,” Hood says. “What’re you doing, McKelly? Thought you were on the straight and narrow. Thought the Bats taught you what happens to people who lose their way. Did the lesson not stick?”
“It’s not what it looks like, Hood! We just needed some extra cash and Black Mask—I swear, we weren’t gonna do anything to—”
“Was it worth it? He’s got my attention now.”
“It was meant to draw out Batman! Not you, honest! Aw, Hood, please. I’ll be good after this, I swear!”
“You assholes just don’t learn your lesson, do you?”
He turns and locks in on you. You freeze, tensing up.
“You hurt them," he says, voice like steel. "You hurt them. And you would've hurt them more, wouldn't you?"
“Hood—”
"I’ll kill you all.”
He shoots McKelly in the chest. You scream through the gag. Red Hood looks at you, and it seems to rekindle his anger tenfold.
He shoots the two remaining guys in the head. McKelly writhes, screaming. You shut your eyes and turn away from the bloodshed, stomach rolling. The crunch of bone and muscle makes you sick.
"Hood, please! This ain’t your s—”
The next shot silences the room. Your heart rate skyrockets; is this a rescue or a massacre?
As the footsteps get closer, you press yourself into the wall and quiver. Red Hood is terrifying. He's merciless, bloodthirsty. You know the stories. You don't even know why he's here in the first place. This isn't his territory; you live far from Crime Alley. What is he doing all the way out here?
You peek one eye open. Red Hood freezes. He's about two feet away from you. His jacket and helmet are splattered with dark blood. Tears prick your eyes.
"Hey," he says roughly, like he’s not fully present. "’S okay. Y’alright?”
You nod rapidly. In reality, your ankle throbs, you might be concussed, and you’re sick with fear. And you don't want Red Hood anywhere near you.
"Okay. I'm gonna remove the gag."
You can't really protest; Red Hood's a big guy, and he has a lot of weapons on his body. All you can hope is that he won't decide to pick up where your kidnapper left off.
He removes the gag. Then he pulls out a blade.
"Please don't hurt me," you say.
Red Hood stills. His voice is thick when he speaks again. The modulator doesn't soften his words.
"I would—I would never hurt you. I don't hurt innocents. I... I came here to save you.”
It still doesn’t make sense in your mind, Red Hood being so far from the Bowery. You press your cracked lips together. You don't want to throw up. If you throw up in front of Hood, he might change his mind about saving you.
“Hey,” he says. “It’s alright. I’m gonna remove the zip ties now, okay?”
You don't have a choice, so you watch the blade whisper past your skin. It would be so easy for Hood to cut more than the restraints. It's all you can think about, frankly.
He makes quick work of the binds. His hand lingers on your wrist. There’s blood on his sleeve. Your heart pounds in your chest.
He finally lets go and you pull away, scooting to the side. That puts pressure on your ankle, though, and you can't hide your wince.
"Your ankle," he says. "Let me see.”
You shake your head. "No, I'm f-fine. I just want to go home. It'll heal.”
Hood seems to make a decision then. He reaches for his helmet. It clicks and he pulls it off.
No. No, it can’t be. It can’t.
“Hey,” Jason says, smiling a little. “‘S just me. Just Jay. You’re safe.”
Your eyes dart between Jason and the bodies. This time, you can’t swallow your nausea; you throw up. There’s tears in your eyes. Your face is hot and sweaty.
“You–you killed them,” you whisper.
Jason’s smile fades. “They hurt you. I… I saved you. It’s okay. ‘S just me.”
You clench your hands, willing them to stop shaking. He watches you for a long moment. Then he puts his hand out. You flinch.
Silence stretches. Then Hood—Jason speaks.
"You're scared of me.”
You shake your head. "Please, I just want to go home—”
"You want Batman instead?" He sounds choked. “You want Batman to come save you? Or Nightwing? Or Robin? You want a good guy?”
This feels like a trap. You know better than to fall into it. This is the Red Hood.
"No! No, I-I don't have any problem with you, Hood, really, I'm just—"
“It’s Jason!” he shouts. “You’ve known me for three years! Jason! You know me!”
The night is catching up to you; tears begin to spill from how overwhelmed you are. You wipe at your cheeks quickly, trying to calm down, but it's too much.
Jason creeps forward like he wants to touch you. You press against the wall without thinking about it.
“Fuck, you’re—you’re terrified of me,” he rasps. “You think I’m a monster.”
Your panic has reached a peak now; you lose track of time and space, hyperventilating through your cries. Jason shoves himself backwards, tearing a hand through his hair.
“I’m good, I’m a good guy. You know me, you know me. I would never hurt you!”
You could've died tonight. The Red Hood is Jason. The Red Hood is no hero.
You don’t look at him, curled up and cradling your ankle. You’re afraid you’ll get sick again if you open your eyes.
Then someone's hand holds your shoulder. You flinch hard, expecting cold, glowing eyes in a red helmet.
Instead, you see white lenses. Nightwing smiles sadly at you, squatting to your level.
"Hey, there," he says. “I’m—”
"Hood’s here," you blurt. "Watch your back."
Nightwing glances behind him; Jason is across the warehouse, as much distance between you as possible. He has his knees to his chest. The corpses lie between you. Your eyes widen and you turn into Nightwing’s shoulder. He rubs your back.
"It’s okay. I know him. He works with us a lot these days."
“I would never hurt you,” Jason says quietly, voice cracking. “Never.” He doesn’t try to approach you again.
You squeeze your eyes shut.
"Please don't make me go with him,” you whisper. “Please, please…”
It hurts to breathe. Nightwing puts your hand on his chest and tells you to follow his breathing. It lasts a lifetime, it seems: Nightwing crouched to your level, exaggerating his breaths until you're no longer gasping for air.
"Alright, it's alright. I'll take you home," he says. "It's okay. You're safe. I won’t make you go with him.”
Nightwing helps you stand, and when you stumble through your injured ankle, he catches you, bracing you with his arm around your back.
"Let's wrap your ankle first, okay?”
Nightwing guides you to a lone chair so he can tend to your injury. When you look up again, the Red Hood is gone.
#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#red hood x reader#red hood x you#jason todd angst#jason todd fanfiction#red hood fanfiction#dc fanfiction#batman fanfiction#angst
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"It's rotten work," Ren says. His tail swishes nervously. He has the demeanor of a sad scolded puppy even though no one's scolding him.
False looks up from where she's placing down mud blocks in accordance to the roads that Ren lined out. Ren's theatre kid behaviour must be kicking in now, because to call her work rotten is dramatic and almost insulting.
"It's not rotten to me. There's stuff I would call rotten work, but this is no where near it."
False places down another block. Ren obediently shuffles out of the way.
"Rotten work is when I'm at a tourney and no one's listening to my strategy so I'm left all alone, but then they use my strategy and we actually win while everyone ignores me. Rotten work is when someone sabotages me and I'm the one left to sweep away the pieces. Rotten work is when someone attacks me on purpose and I'm the one who has to apologise for being mad and pacify everyone else. This?" False pulls out another mud block, "is building. And building is not rotten work."
Ren cautiously observes what False is doing, then also pulls out his mud blocks. He moves a few steps forward so he's placing blocks, but out of her way. "It's still work," he admits. "A lot of work, in fact."
False is nonplussed. "But that's what builders do, don't they? And I am the Minister of Transport."
Ren laughs, but it's a quiet laugh. He pauses like he's hesitating, then he mumbles,
"I'm a lot of work."
Now it's False's turn to pause. Her hands continue with placing the blocks, because that's what she does. Building. Grinding. Helping friends out. So on and so forth.
"It's peculiar work for sure," False says, her tone light. "Picking up your stuff when you spontaneously explode. Bugging you about MCC. Teaching you basic colour theory. You can't get orange from blue, Ren. It sadly doesn't work that way."
Ren chuckles at the jab. "Worth a shot, eh?"
False coughs. "Yeah, like I said, peculiar work. But it's fine. I like doing peculiar work because I'm a peculiar person and you're a peculiar person. But together we are normal. Very normal indeed."
Ren considers it. "What if I don't want to be normal?"
"Then we won't be normal."
"What if I want to be normal?"
"Then we'll be normal. Or at least pretend to be."
Ren laughs. "That doesn't make any sense."
False smiles wryly. "Come on now, Ren, when have I ever made any sense?"
He shoots her a grin. "But you're like the most sensible person in the Neighbourhood!"
False lets the silence hang between them for comedic effect. "... No."
"No?"
"If I were sensible, I would've left the Neighourhood long ago."
"Hey!"
"Just kidding. That's why I'm not sensible. That's why I like not being sensible. Besides, I'm not the one who organised the ministry or planned the roads. You did. You're the one with the vision. I'm just following it."
Ren looks around the paths and his tail wags in excitement. "But you're contributing to the vision! I saw the bits and pieces you added! It looks great, by the way!"
False nonchalantly continues placing. "Yeah, you see, that's part of the peculiar work. You draw up the canvas and I edit in the details. It's like how we did the raceway last time."
"Yeah, but I haven't grinded as hard this time around. Too busy with my permit, my dude."
False giggles. "Would you call getting the beacon permit drawing a short straw?"
"I mean, I was the second to die in Demise, but you won and everything worked out in the end, so I don't mind." A pause. "Also gives me a chance to kill those dastardly withers as revenge for all the times they defeated me."
"Right, it's a lot of work to kill them, never mind farm them."
Ren sighs deeply. "There's definitely a lot going on. Especially those buttons, man."
False glances up. They're both still doing the roads. She watches Ren shift up a step and place down a mud brick slab.
"Yeah, but it'll be worth it. I'll buy your beacons. Actually, you can go do your buttons. You can kill some withers. I'll take care of this."
She can almost hear his apologies— sorry that she's doing the roads that he was supposed to do, sorry that he didn't reply to her messages, sorry that he's the way he is.
(And maybe he picks it up too— the way she actually means "I'll take care of you". He always seems to instinctively know what she means under her contradictory and confusing words. In the same way she instinctively knows what he means.)
Ren softly chuckles. "It's peculiar work."
"It's peculiar work especially if it's me, and especially if it's you—"
False sets down a mud brick slab right next to the one Ren placed. Just one slight push, and the pattern of the bricks align like they'd been inseparable from the get go. The corner of her lips quirk up.
"— but that's why I do it."
#ria.fic#hermitfic#falseren#<- platonic#i started writing this waiting for my salmon to steam. lesson of the day: dont steam a thick piece of salmon.#the big salmon voices in your head are EVIL. thin salmon for steaming#also if this reminds you of another fic that's bc i wrote the other fic. self plagiarism is always moral 🔥#what if we were silly. together#hermitcraft#rendog
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MASTERLIST
all rights reserved © astraystayyh. all pieces are works of fiction and do not represent the members in real life. do not copy, translate or repost.
OT8
╰┈➤ series.
༊*·˚ SKZ song series masterlist (completed)
༊*·˚ Winter falls | winter themed collab with @forlix (in progress)
༊*·˚ SKZ quotes series masterlist (in progress)
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ All for you- skz wedding vows | f.
༊*·˚ SKZ saying I love you for the first time | f.
╰┈➤ headcannons.
༊*·˚ SKZ as oddly specific love languages | f.
༊*·˚ Mundane activities you'd enjoy with SKZ | f.
༊*·˚ SKZ when you are stressed and overworked | h/c.
bang chan.
╰┈➤ one-shots & series.
༊*·˚ Pieces of you | f. a. singledad!chris. mutual pining. neigbors!au.
⟿ In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.
༊*·˚ Vanilla | a. f.
⟿ Breakup with a happy ending.
༊*·˚ Beginning of the end (part 1) | a.
⟿ You are breaking up with Chan, he just doesn't know it yet.
༊*·˚ Bittersweet (part 2) | a. f. exes to lovers.
⟿ Four years later, you are back home and everything has changed.
༊*·˚ Wait for me | a. major character death.
⟿ "I think I might see you soon, my yn. You've been waiting for me, haven't you? Just like we promised."
༊*·˚ The wedding saga | f.
The impromptu proposal.
A few hours before the wedding.
The wedding and the morning after.
༊*·˚ Myth | f. friends to lovers.
⟿ Skimming across the edge of being friends and something more with Chan is a dangerous game. Even more so when you're both sharing the same bed.
"The consequence of what you do to me, help me to name it."
╰┈➤ drabbles.
༊*·˚ chan is tired and you are his sun.
༊*·˚ you're sick and chan takes care of you.
༊*·˚ when you're having a bad day and chan is still proud of you.
༊*·˚ chan comforting you through a thunderstorm.
༊*·˚ chan's hugs.
lee minho.
╰┈➤ one-shots & series.
༊*·˚ Invisible thread- 1 | f, a. academic rivals to lovers. slow burn.
⟿ Your studies have been your life line for as long as you can remember, what happens when Minho comes into your life and rips it away from you?
༊*·˚ Invisible thread- 2 | f. a. h/c.
⟿ In which Minho rewrites your entire relationship with love.
༊*·˚ Echoes of love | memory loss trope. a. h/c.
⟿ If given the choice would you love minho again? yes, you would've once said in a heartbeat. but now, you aren't sure of your response anymore.
chapter i. to forget - chapter ii. to remember
༊*·˚ The only exception | strangers to lovers. slow burn. barista!minho.
⟿ Minho was content with straying away as far as possible from love. That is until you stumbled into his café on a rainy night, and unwittingly, into his life.
"Cause none of it was ever worth the risk, but you are the only exception."
༊*·˚ Conversations with Minho | f.
༊*·˚ A cat proposal | f.
╰┈➤ drabbles.
༊*·˚ mine.
༊*·˚ a sun and a moon.
༊*·˚ when you used to feel lonely but not anymore with minho.
༊*·˚ minho comforts you through a storm.
seo changbin.
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ The alternative | brother's best friend!changbin. f. ♡
⟿ You've diligently chased the idea of being with Changbin out of your mind. That is until he picks you up from a bad date, making your steadfast resolve unravel all around you.
"Love is a risk, but what's the alternative?"
༊*·˚ Burning in the winter wind | romcom vibes. (fake) enemies to lovers. f.
⟿ Sustaining an ankle injury during a ski retreat isn't fun. Especially when Seo Changbin volunteers to stay back to tend to you- the one man you can never get a read on.
╰┈➤ drabbles.
when you're feeling sad changbin will do anything (being silly) to cheer you up.
hwang hyunjin.
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ The snow falls, we fall apart | friends to lovers. roomates!au. a. f. longing and pining.
⟿ when heartbreak looms on your life, and winter becomes a time you loathe, hyunjin helps you rewrite your memories with the season, and with it, everything you once believed about love.
༊*·˚ Somebody else | exes to lovers. a. miscommunication. happy ending.
⟿ You and Hyunjin have broken up, guilt and blame simmering between you both. He doesn't care anymore, or so he thought. Then why does it hurt him to see you with someone else?
"Don't want your body but I hate to think about you with somebody else."
༊*·˚ You're in the wind, I'm in the water (pt.1) | friends to lovers. pinch of unrequited love (it's very much requited dw)
༊*·˚ Orange (pt.2) | f. my take on The Orange theory.
༊*·˚ Young and beautiful | f.
⟿ How you both said i love you for the first time.
༊*·˚ Snow on the beach | f. implied soulmates.
⟿ You've never said i love you to Hyunjin but you've both always known.
༊*·˚ Say yes to heaven | a. f. (pt. 1)
⟿ Seven minutes in heaven except you're heartbroken and hyunjin has a huge crush on you.
༊*·˚ Say yes to me | f. (pt. 2) ♡
⟿ After your seven minutes in heaven, hyunjin wants to plan out how he'll finally confess to you. except you come knocking on the door of his rented cabin unannounced. at 10:53 pm. the perfect time for love, he comes to learn.
༊*·˚ When I fell in love | f.
⟿ It's your birthday and Hyunjin has a surprise gift for you- all the moments he fell in love with you in.
༊*·˚ You and I | a. happy ending.
⟿ In which you wrongly lash out at Hyunjin and have to mend it back. Human character who makes mistakes and apologizes for them.
༊*·˚ Conversations with Hyunjin | f.
╰┈➤ drabbles.
༊*·˚ serenity.
༊*·˚ mornings with hyunjin.
༊*·˚ nights with hyunjin.
༊*·˚ hyunjin and touch starved reader.
༊*·˚ you've had a nightmare and Hyunjin sings you to sleep while it's raining.
༊*·˚ in which you're in love with hyunjin and you're both swimming in a lake.
༊*·˚ hyunjin with glasses and a tiny ponytail brainrot.
༊*·˚ hyunjin is your friend except you're making out in his car backseat.
༊*·˚ your reaction to hyunjin's new burgundy hair.
༊*·˚ valentine’s with hyunjin.
han jisung.
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ Volcano | Enemies to lovers. slow burn. f. a.
⟿ You've never gotten along with han, your mutual prejudices ruining any prospect of friendship between you both. but you slowly realize that you are more similar than what you originally thought- your darkness recognizing his, and his light yearning for yours.
"I'll take care of you. It's terrible work. Not to me, not if it's you."
༊*·˚ 5422 | a. f.
⟿ Your morning after a fight with Han.
༊*·˚ Backburner | Exes who can't move on. a.
⟿ It's been seven weeks since Han broke up with you. And yet he's still calling you, every saturday night, without fault. And even though you try not to, you still pick up each time.
"You'd think I'd be a fast learner. But guess I won't ever mind crisping up in your backburner."
lee felix.
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ If the world was ending | estranged childhood best friends to lovers. a. f.
⟿ Felix has always been there with you, from the moment you've met him when you were 8 years old. Until he suddenly no longer was, and you were left to grapple with the consequences of his absence- and those of his return.
"If the world was ending you'd come over, right?"
༊*·˚ Scream! | f. h/c.
⟿ When you are overwhelmed by the stress of your studies, your boyfriend Felix will do anything to cheer you up.
╰┈➤ drabbles.
༊*·˚ red lollipop.
༊*·˚ you apply lip gloss on felix but it takes an emotional turn because he's too pretty.
༊*·˚ cooking with felix.
kim seungmin.
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ In my dreams | (Fake) enemies to lovers. a. h/c. slow burn. ♡
⟿ Seungmin has never liked you. You never understood why, but you were slowly coming to terms with it. However, you gradually come to learn that there is more to his feelings than what meets the eye.
"I'm sorry that I misjudged you, until you wiped my tears off away."
༊*·˚ Photobooth | f.
⟿ Your first date with seungmin, except he pretends he's confident when he's just as nervous as you.
╰┈➤ drabbles.
༊*·˚ seungmin's silent comfort.
༊*·˚ when you realize you don't have to be perfect around seungmin.
༊*·˚ enemies to lovers (for a night) with seungmin.
༊*·˚ seungmin thinks you’re the prettiest at your most ordinary.
yang jeongin.
╰┈➤ one-shots.
༊*·˚ You're sexy I'm sexy | friends to lovers. fluff and tension.
⟿ Jeongin is out with his friends, and you. You're tipsy and sitting on his lap, and he doesn't think he can keep his crush for you at bay anymore.
"It could be simple as loving on each other with no strings."
༊*·˚ Please fall before I fall | best friends to lovers. mutual pining but they think it's unrequited love.
⟿ 3 times you saved jeongin's ass and the 1 time he saved yours (and ended up confessing along the way). holidays themed.
╰┈➤ drabbles.
༊*·˚ jeongin when you are sad and don't know why.
༊*·˚ jeongin's duality.
#skz headcanons#skz scenarios#stray kids imagine#stray kids x reader#skz fluff#skz x reader#stray kids headcanons#skz au#skz angst#stray kids fluff#skz imagines#stray kids scenarios
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What do you think of 2000AD comics?
2000AD is great, Judge Dredd is one of those comics you can just get really into at any point in your life, if you ever want a glimpse into UK comics scene it's always worth looking at, especially the Judge Death stories with Brain Bolland art.
Mag-freaking-nificent.
Okay, formalities out of the way? We've said Judge Dredd is cool?
Right.
Sit the fuck down and let me tell you about my favourite 200AD comic.
Let me tell you about:
NEMESIS THE WARLOCK
NEMESIS THE WARLOCK!
FIGHTING THE EVIL OF THE CHIEF TERMINATOR
TORQUEMADA
Look let me get into this. Most people know Kevin O'Neill because of his work on League of Extraordinary Gentlemen with Alan Moore. I know him most for Nemesis.
Nothing comes close to the absolute insanity and creativity of Nemesis the Warlock. It is some of the greatest design work ever done and speaks volumes of the environment it was created in.
Every panel, every scene has new and inventive characters, environment, objects. It doesn't stop surprising you with how it portrays everything. They mess with scale a lot, having huge sculptures of people as buildings or just making people tiny on Moebius inspired planes
Have a look at this shot of Nemesis at his writing desk
There is so much going on there it's fantastic. Anyway. Plot? Plot. Nemesis is the leader of the revolutionary army fighting Torquemada, who wants to exterminate all alien life so that only "pure" humans exist. Sounds pretty straightforward right?
Except Nemesis is a Warlock, he only does things in the most over the top evil way to combat him. And not in a "sacrifice your troops" evil way, but in a "haunt this guy and make him think I'm the devil so he does my bidding" way
(I want a church organ with a "brimstone" intonation)
Nemesis also comes through a matriarchal society, and when they attack his family he does indeed go ballistic. I feel it's important you know what the females of his species look like.
Awesome.
Any way thank you for giving me an excuse to talk about Nemesis, I highly recommend it it's an absolute blast.
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more outlaw!Cowboy!König? Pleaseeeeee 🥹
You wake up with a twinge in your back, sore in all the wrong places, but you think it’s worth it. Sleeping on the ground that is. You’ve got your head resting on König’s bicep, his arm slung around your waist so you can cuddle close against his chest. He’s solid and warm, and definitely worth a few aches and pains. The bed roll really isn’t too bad, but sleeping tangled up with another person is a new one for you.
Your dead-to-you husband didn’t like doing more than he needed to, and you didn’t particularly like being touched by him. So youve never been one for cuddling. This feels different though, sort of nice. It's probably the kidnapping, or the big, broad (are you drooling a little? Do you drool now? Did you drool on him? God you hope not.) fuzzy chest in front of you. You walk your fingers over his chest, feeling the soft muscle, the hair, the warmth of him. You don't get a lot of excuses to touch people these days and you are happy to take full advantage.
König makes a noise, and raises his arm to rub at his eyes, the same arm you're using as a pillow. His bicep flexes under your head and you -oh that's a big bicep, a very... big...- try not to get too flustered by the motion. His fingers stroke up your back, and you tip your head to catch him looking down at you.
"Guten Morgen," he smiles at you, his fingers tantalizingly distracting as they run over your skin.
"Buenos dias," your accent is so bad you actually cringe, he snorts. As long as he's speaking German though, you figure you'll return the favor. No sense in both of you knowing what the others saying.
"Is Spanish more easy for you?" He asks, in Spanish. You don't even understand all of it, you just piece together what you can with context clues. You think "facil" means easy.
"Nope," you pop the 'p' and König hums. There goes that idea. English it is.
"Que chica traviesa," he grumbles, you don't bother translating. It's too early for that. You'd much rather focus on the large rough hand squeezing your ass, apparently König has gotten bored of just petting you. You suppose you don't really need to know what he's saying.
"Ok, up." He tells you, rolling onto his back and pulling you with him. It takes you a moment to readjust yourself, to get settled comfortably on his lap, but it's worth it. The way he looks up at you, runs his hands up your stomach to cup your chest with reverence, like he can't get enough of you.
You've been with König a few days now, and you've noticed two things. One, he's incorrigible, a big man with a big appetite for, well, everything. And two, he has a bit of a staring problem, you've never had a man so desperate to just look at you, it's a little embarrassing. Still, he's charming even with the language barrier, so youre willing to forgive him.
He's not quite hard yet when you lean down to kiss him, but he will be. Then you can start your morning properly. One of König's hands leaves you and you hear the click of a pistol hammer being cocked. You duck against his chest in a panic, his other arm wrapping around you protectively. When you glance over your shoulder there's a woman staring down at the two of you, holding the flap of your tent open with a wolf's grin.
"¿Dónde conseguiste este?" She asks, nodding at you. König's grip tightens, his gun trained on your intruding guest.
"Get rid of her-" shockingly you understand that one, you hear it a lot. König fires a warning shot, you flinch, bury your face against his neck. The bullet nicks a few of the short dark hairs near her neck, she noticeably doesn't flinch. "Fine," you don't listen to the rest. You try to not think at all about what they're saying.
You'd almost forgotten that König was a wanted man. Wanted, it seemed, for more than just the price on his head. "Work" you hear the word more than once, no matter how hard you try to shut it out. You sincerely hope that work doesn't include you.
#cod x reader#x reader#x oc#oc: bee#könig x reader#könig cod#könig call of duty#könig x oc#cowboy!König#outlaw!König#1870s!cowboy#dont worry könig is just gonna drop Bee in town#he'll be back for her#give it up for her second kidnapping#oh hey Valeria whatre you doing here?
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