#i felt so clever when i thought of this i had to share
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so while i was writing the book, i became violently suicidal.
this was mostly due to the fact that i had a very bad reaction to some meds and my brain stopped producing any serotonin. also i was in the last semester of grad school where it's actually illegal to feel anything but dread. so it wasn't going well.
somewhere in the fog of it i became aware i needed help. nobody was taking clients or my insurance. i didn't want to do inpatient care - it wasn't right for my needs. there's not really an "in between" stage between "inpatient" and "no care," but i was trying to do the right thing. i was trying to activate the chain of command that was my emergency plan. i knew i needed help now.
i used betterhelp.
i know, i know. i'm a straight-A student and so smart and so clever, how could i ever use something so blatantly bad. to be honest with you, i didn't feel particularly keen on it from the getgo - things that seem too good to be true usually are. also, if something online is free, the price is usually your privacy.
the thing is that there was kind of a global pandemic happening at the time and i worked 5 jobs alongside of being a fulltime student and also like writing a book on the side. it is a miracle that i even thought about getting help. i would love to tell you i had the mental wherewithal to like, process whether this was the right choice for me. mostly i was desperate. i was so suicidal that i was trying to find a reason to stay inside of fortune cookies. i was the kind of suicidal that looks like splatterpaint. i hadn't been that bad in an entire decade.
they took my data. i gave them it freely. somewhere out there, they have a dossier on me. on everything i survived. my story in little datapoints, scattergraphed beautifully.
the first woman told me that really i should be grateful, because (and this is a direct quote): "at least you're not anne frank." i said that i felt that statement was antisemitic, as anne frank's life and experience shouldn't be compared to like, a nonbinary lesbian in western massachusetts. the therapist said that i should try to use lucid dreaming to try to picture myself in an actually scary situation, like running from nazis.
i applied for another therapist. i was willing to accept the possibility that there was a bad apple in the bunch. the next therapist and i even laughed about how inappropriate that statement was. and then, in our next session: the new therapist said if i was struggling with body image issues, i should just work harder on my appearance. she spent 3 sessions in a row talking about how she was grieving, and made me memorize facts about her grandmother so "she can live on through my clients."
i am a three's-a-charm kind of person. okay, so what if the last person made me uncomfortable. i figured it was just a misunderstanding of priorities - she had felt she was sharing with me, i had felt like i had to take care of her. i applied for another therapist.
the last woman asked me to help her pray. she bowed her head. i stared at her, frozen, while she said: lord, i beg you: cure her. take the pain of being gay away from her.
i spent somewhere between 2.5 and 3 months on betterhelp. in that whole time, i was not getting the professional help i so desperately needed, even though i was fucking trying.
in the end, i survived this because i finally could get off the meds that were literally killing me. a request for a real therapist finally went through. i survived because my friends saved my life. because nick let me sob myself dry in his arms. because maddie took the razors out of my room when i asked them to. because grace slept over in my bed for like 3 weeks in a row since nobody trusted me not to hurt myself when i was alone. i survived because i got fucking lucky. because even when i was desperately suicidal, i was too old and too self-aware to take "you need to be prettier" as good advice.
the thing is that there's a 19 year old me who isn't like that. who would have heard "just think about how grateful you should be" and said - oh, i see. i would have assumed that is what it means to be in therapy: the same thing my abusers used to tell me. that i am just pretending and lazy. that i am ugly and unworthy.
betterhelp positioned itself to take advantage of an incredibly vulnerable community. it preys on desperation. it knows it is serving people who are not doing well mentally. it saw that there is a huge need for real, immediate, compassionate mental health care: and then it fucking takes your money and privacy.
i still get their ads on instagram. last night i watched as a woman in a pool pretends to talk to a different woman. they discuss her anxiety.
there's a 19 year old version of me, and she didn't survive this. she was too tired, and drowning. i almost fucking died. this thing almost fucking killed me.
in the ad, the woman playing the therapist takes a note on a clipboard and then nods once, sagely.
i have to admit it's a pretty scene. the steam and light coming off the pool water lands on the actresses. like this, it almost looks baptismal, holy.
#writeblr#the book....#coming soon#hey so if ur someone who has ever said “you need to write a book”#i wrote the book#it's ... probably the best thing ive ever written#this is maybe too honest lol#okay to reblog thank you for asking i love u i am in love with u our wedding will be in may
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Okay, let me tell you a story:
Once upon a time, there was a prose translation of the Pearl Poet’s Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. It was wonderfully charming and lyrical and perfect for use in a high school, and so a clever English teacher (as one did in the 70s) made a scan of the book for her students, saved it as a pdf, and printed copies off for her students every year. In true teacher tradition, she shared the file with her colleagues, and so for many years the students of the high school all studied Sir Gawain and the Green Knight from the same (very badly scanned) version of this wonderful prose translation.
In time, a new teacher became head of the English Department, and while he agreed that the prose translation was very wonderful he felt that the quality of the scan was much less so. Also in true teacher tradition, he then spent hours typing up the scan into a word processor, with a few typos here and there and a few places where he was genuinely just guessing wildly at what the scan actually said. This completed word document was much cleaner and easier for the students to read, and so of course he shared it with his colleagues, including his very new wide-eyed faculty member who was teaching British Literature for the first time (this was me).
As teachers sometimes do, he moved on for greener (ie, better paying) pastures, leaving behind the word document, but not the original pdf scan. This of course meant that as I was attempting to verify whether a weird word was a typo or a genuine artifact of the original translation, I had no other version to compare it to. Being a good card-holding gen zillenial I of course turned to google, making good use of the super secret plagiarism-checking teacher technique “Quotation Marks”, with an astonishing result:
By which I mean literally one result.
For my purposes, this was precisely what I needed: a very clean and crisp scan that allowed me to make corrections to my typed edition: a happily ever after, amen.
But beware, for deep within my soul a terrible Monster was stirring. Bane of procrastinators everywhere, my Curiosity had found a likely looking rabbit hole. See, this wonderfully clear and crisp scan was lacking in two rather important pieces of identifying information: the title of the book from which the scan was taken, and the name of the translator. The only identifying features were the section title “Precursors” (and no, that is not the title of the book, believe me I looked) and this little leaf-like motif by the page numbers:
(Remember the leaf. This will be important later.)
We shall not dwell at length on the hours of internet research that ensued—how the sun slowly dipped behind the horizon, grading abandoned in shadows half-lit by the the blue glow of the computer screen—how google search after search racked up, until an email warning of “unusual activity on your account” flashed into momentary existence before being consigned immediately and with some prejudice to the digital void—how one third of the way through a “comprehensive but not exhaustive” list of Sir Gawain translators despair crept in until I was left in utter darkness, screen black and eyes staring dully at the wall.
Above all, let us not admit to the fact that such an afternoon occurred not once, not twice, but three times.
Suffice to say, many hours had been spent in fruitless pursuit before a new thought crept in: if this book was so mysterious, so obscure as to defeat the modern search engine, perhaps the answer lay not in the technologies of today, but the wisdom of the past. Fingers trembling, I pulled up the last blast email that had been sent to current and former faculty and staff, and began to compose an email to the timeless and indomitable woman who had taught English to me when I was a student, and who had, after nearly fifty years, retired from teaching just before I returned to my alma mater.
After staring at the email for approximately five or so minutes, I winced, pressed send, and let my plea sail out into the void. I cannot adequately describe for you the instinctive reverence I possess towards this teacher; suffice to say that Ms English was and is a woman of remarkable character, as much a legend as an institution as a woman of flesh and blood whose enduring influence inspired countless students. There is not a student taught by Ms. English who does not have a story to tell about her, and her decline in her last years of teaching and eventual retirement in the face of COVID was the end of an era. She still remembers me, and every couple months one of her contemporaries and dear friends who still works as a guidance counsellor stops me in the hall to tell me that Ms. English says hello and that she is thrilled that I am teaching here—thrilled that I am teaching honors students—thrilled that I am now teaching the AP students. “Tell her I said hello back,” I always say, and smile.
Ms. English is a legend, and one does not expect legends to respond to you immediately. Who knows when a woman of her generation would next think to check her email? Who knows if she would remember?
The day after I sent the email I got this response:
My friends, I was shaken. I was stunned. Imagine asking God a question and he turns to you and says, “Hold on one moment, let me check with my predecessor.”
The idea that even Ms. English had inherited this mysterious translation had never even occurred to me as a possibility, not when Ms. English had been a faculty member since the early days of the school. How wonderful, I thought to myself. What a great thing, that this translation is so obscure and mysterious that it defeats even Ms. English.
A few days later, Ms. English emailed me again:
(I had, in fact searched through both the English office and the Annex—a dark, weirdly shaped concrete storage area containing a great deal of dust and many aging copies of various books—a few days prior. I had no luck, sadly.)
At last, though, I had a title and a description! I returned to my internet search, only to find to my dismay that there was no book that exactly matched the title. I found THE BRITISH TRADITION: POETRY, PROSE, AND DRAMA (which was not black and the table of contents I found did not include Sir Gawain) and THE ENGLISH TRADITION, a super early edition of the Prentice Hall textbooks we use today, which did have a black cover but there were absolutely zero images I could find of the table of contents or the interior and so I had no way of determining if it was the correct book short of laying out an unfortunate amount of cold hard cash for a potential dead end.
So I sighed, and relinquished my dreams of solving the mystery. Perhaps someday 30 years from now, I thought, I’ll be wandering through one of those mysterious bookshops filled with out of print books and I’ll pick up a book and there will be the translation, found out last!
So I sighed, and told the whole story to my colleagues for a laugh. I sent screenshots of Ms. English’s emails to my siblings who were also taught by her. I told the story to my Dad over dinner as my Great Adventure of the Week.
…my friends. I come by my rabbit-hole curiosity honestly, but my Dad is of a different generation of computer literacy and knows a few Deep Secrets that I have never learned. He asked me the title that Ms. English gave me, pulled up some mysterious catalogue site, and within ten minutes found a title card. There are apparently two copies available in libraries worldwide, one in Philadelphia and the other in British Columbia. I said, “sure, Dad,” and went upstairs. He texted me a link. Rolling my eyes, I opened it and looked at the description.
Huh, I thought. Four volumes, just like Ms. English said. I wonder…
Armed with a slightly different title and a publisher, I looked up “The English Tradition: Fiction macmillan” and the first entry is an eBay sale that had picture of the interior and LO AND BEHOLD:
THE LEAF. LOOK AT THE LEAF.
My dad found it! He found the book!!
Except for one teensy tiny problem which is that the cover of the book is uh a very bright green and not at all black like Ms. English said. Alas, it was a case of mistaken identity, because The English Tradition: Poetry does have a black cover, although it is the fiction volume which contains Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.
And so having found the book at last, I have decided to purchase it for the sum of $8, that ever after the origins of this translation may once more be known.
In this year of 2022 this adventure took place, as this post bears witness, the end, amen.
(Edit: See here for part 2!)
#sir gawain and the green knight#translations#internet research#english literature#teaching things#dads are the best#long post#story telling#I STILL don’t know the name of the translator but I WILL find out#obscure books
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LAUNDRY DAY
a/n: I AM ALLIVEEEEEEE 🔥🔥🔥🔥 sorry i had a crazy week! can be read as a standalone piece but based off gojo’s roommate au of here and here / tagging @jabamin @hyomagiri @utahimeow @lov3rbody ☆
wc: 4k
warnings: sub!gojo that turns into dom!gojo, fem!reader, fantasising? gojo is a pervert too, mentions of semi-public sex, implied somnophilia, panty sniffing, pillow / dry humping, m! masturbation, oral (m receiving), deep-throating, praise, pet names, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut
living with you was hard. brushing his teeth with you was hard. being around you — hard. both figuratively and—
there’s a loud sigh from you.
clearly tired from the day’s activities of ushering in freshman after freshman, you lugged your body into the bathroom. the same rehearsed words have been leaving your mouth as your cheeks hurt more and more by the hour, only to repeat it all over again the next day.
“you look like shit,” it’s muffled by the way the toothbrush is stuffed into his mouth, foam peeking out from the corners of his mouth and you’re trying not to tell your roommate (and boyfriend) to shut up — you didn’t have the energy to do, much less say anything and you certainly didn’t have time for your lover’s clever quips so late in the night.
it didn’t help that you recently had an argument too; well, trivial to him but much more major to you. it was a matter of getting gojo to keep his laundry properly and to clean up after himself once he’s gotten himself comfortable in the relationship. it’s not like he doesn’t want to — he was cleaning up in the first place to impress you — but now since he’s got you, it’s like he simply expects you to act as his little wife when it was a shared space. the exact argument you used against him.
“satoru— this is a shared apartment! you can’t just leave tteokbokki cups lying around with the gochujang sauce still inside! it’s going to attract cockroaches and ants!” you gesture wildly, the sheer amount of trash lying around making you even sicker than you thought possible. getting paid to usher in freshmen and then coming home to this? it felt like every cent of your hard work had gone to waste.
there’s only a grin on his face, “you’re so attractive when you’re mad, baby.”
that was another thing: the lack of seriousness that gojo possessed at times, simply talking to piss you off, simply living to be the bane of your existence. “and you’re fucking unbelievable, gojo satoru. clean up— or don’t,” you made sure to lace that last word with venom, “i don’t care.”
that seemed enough for gojo to snap out of his stupor, “no, no— princess, fuck, i’m s—” his brows furrow when he briefly spots the thickening glaze of your eyes, possibly filling with tears before you’re marching into your room to slam the door and he swears to himself. satoru had never felt embarrassment and shame and sadness like that day; having just taken a shower but his skin was sweaty and uncomfortable and his heart sat right at his feet.
gojo swears he never wants to hear you say his full name ever again.
since then, it’s been a little tense between the two of you. geto had noticed it on movie night, shoko realised you haven’t been looking at your phone as often. hell, even prof. yaga had to tell you that you were distracted way too much lately, and it’s only been two days.
satoru tried to possibly take back what he said with whatever powers he didn’t possess, but he only gets another sigh from you as you squeeze the toothpaste out and start brushing your teeth, not even sparing him one glance in the mirror.
and yet while he was the first one to start his nightly routine, he’s left to be the last again from the way he’s unable to stop staring at you, a recurring trait of his whenever you were in the same room with him. it’s a testament of how attracted he was to you — at how his shirt slips off your shoulder from how big it was because even when you were mad at him, you forgot about that little detail. gojo’s eyes trail from your exposed shoulder to your legs and back up again to your fatigued face. he skims over the shape of your eyes and down to your nose and he thinks he’s the luckiest man to be brushing his teeth beside you now, blessed with seeing such an intimate side of you even if it’s as simple as this.
until gojo’s eyes fall upon your mouth as your toothbrush is doing its job of perfect innocence, cleaning some teeth, scraping off the bacteria on your tongue, except when you’re switching it from side to side all your roommate can think about if it was his dick instead. and the thought leaves him as fast it comes.
all you do is shoot him a weird look through the mirror when gojo exclaims like he was a vampire whose skin burned under the bathroom lighting, and he regains composure with ease.
“i’m fine! fine. doing a-okay.” satoru speaks through the foam and it’s spraying everywhere and you’re too tired to care before you hear another gulp when you move your toothbrush again, “sorry! sorry— continue please.”
gojo is starstruck for an entirely different reason, now, watching the toothbrush making bulges at the side of your mouth as it moves in and out and he’s left to fantasise about the many, many times you’ve gotten him in you and the warmth of everything. he can feel himself get hard under his sweatpants when you start brushing your tongue and you gag and he wants to die standing in this 30 square foot bathroom because the last thing he wants to do is sexualise something perfectly mundane.
gojo isn’t like that (well, most of the time. can’t blame him for finding you smokin’ hot).
“what the fuck is your problem?” you’re speaking through your foamy mouth now, spitting it out and proceeding to clean up with no clue of what you do to him. satoru on the other hand — terribly excited that you’d even open your mouth to talk to him after two days of endless silent treatment.
“nothing, baby. it’s nothing, i promise.” you can’t lie at the way your heart jumps at the familiarity of it all, of being in such proximity to your lover, doing domestic things like these and the ‘baby’ and yet your pride is holding you back on everything.
you go straight to sleep, too, not wanting to entertain anything related to gojo satoru and you feel just a little bad when he looks at you with those baby blues and a sweet pout on his face. he looked especially pathetic in the bathroom, like a deer caught in headlights at just the presence of you and you want nothing more to apologise. it’s never that easy, though; you needed a promise, you needed the reassurance that he wouldn’t be leaving you to clean up after him again.
all these worries are willed away when you finally fall into slumber in your own room, body craving the warmth of satoru unknowingly. you had stolen a pillow the day before and it’s been the sole source of his scent, the only thing to keep your mind sane.
gojo’s heart drops again upon seeing you already deep in sleep, thinking he had a chance to catch you before you did, but the needines for you never goes down even now. he cannot take his mind off the way you’d run your hands through his hair or tangle your legs with his, satoru’s limbs recall the memory of you playing with his fingers and how you like to curl your arms around his neck. 48 hours is enough for him to go insane, and also maybe at how your leg was propped up on his missing pillow, hugging it so tight to your chest. you hadn’t bothered to wear pants either, so all he can see is the shape of your cunt under.
he stalks into the room and kneels in front of you, finger so tempted to run along your folds and make you wet, staring a whole minute and weighing his options until decides he doesn’t deserve it, turning away and closing your door softly.
“going now, satoru.” it’s soft when you mumble it, not even wanting him to hear before you’re stopped. you’re donning the uni orientation shirt and eyebags, a soggy sandwich from yesterday staining your bag with its smell. “what?”
“made you somethin’,” gojo’s cute like this with a frilly apron and hair band, still managing to tower over you despite the adorable get-up he’s got on, “it’s a bento.”
and you wish you could just melt the pride that runs through your bones and kiss him all over, and you break just a little. a small smile and you walk up to him, grabbing the lunchbox and pecking him softly on the cheek, turning away fast enough to not catch his fangirl moment — because you knew you wouldn’t be able to make it on time if you did.
“we still have to talk later when i come back, okay?” you call out as you put on your shoes and you steal one last glance at him, “and today’s laundry day. you know what t—”
“yes ma’am!” gojo salutes and you roll your eyes with a small smile, locking the door behind you with heat on your cheeks and the pounding of your heart. it was difficult not to break when it came to satoru, when he’s trying so hard to win back your words and love, and so tonight you’ve decided after the tiring week is when you’d finally stop running away over such a small matter.
although, gojo got caught up in something way beyond your expectations even if he had his initial intentions (which involved ordering your favourite takeout and kneeling at the front door in apology).
your roommate lays around for a bit before grabbing some lunch and heading to the back room, a little extension attached to the kitchen with a tune on his lips. it’s clear he’s a little driven by your little innocent peck, a sign that maybe you weren’t so mad any more. for the next hour, satoru is contently doing the laundry with a smile, until—
the panties you threw in before showering must have fallen to the bottom of the pile, the same one he saw you wear last night and he thinks maybe the low humming buzz he heard last night wasn’t his imagination because when he picks it up he can smell your arousal. there’s a stain from the previous night and another pool of juices from this morning and he now knows that it wasn’t the kettle.
“dirty girl,” he grins, “both yesterday and this morning?” he’s thought about this for the longest time, always holding himself back because you found him weird enough even before you were dating, always letting you do your own separate load for your undergarments. but since you’ve gotten together, you were more comfortable, throwing it into the same laundry basket — the compulsion has never been this strong before.
gojo puts it up to his nose and smells like the pervert he is, among other times: teasing you with a hand down your pants when the two were over at your dorm, fucking you in the kitchen as they focused on the movie, pounding into you with the windows open, and he almost ascends at the scent of your pussy juices. there’s a spark that goes down right to his core and he palms his bulge unconsciously, coming to his senses when the washing machine beeps.
he impatiently puts in the settings and leaves, heading straight for your room and is hit with all reminders of you. the perfume you used this morning and the body wash you share with him, walking almost under a trance to your bed where he moans at the softness of the sheets as he falls face first. it doesn’t take him much to scoot to your pillows, but the need for you is just too much.
gojo grinds his cock into the bed, whining softly as he whiffs up your natural body smell, hips moving on their own accord as he manoeuvres a pillow between his legs. he humps it like a dog, groaning and moaning and the strain on his dick is just too much, balling up the undies in his hand and his body tenses at the friction.
“baby . . f-fuck—” satoru’s voice is high-pitched and choked, all the thoughts of you culminating into one big ball of desperation for you and he cums in his pants, tainting the fabric a darker colour than before. but he’s not done — his hips still move against the pillow, thrusting into the fluff as he rides out his orgasm, moans muffled by the pillow. “miss you . .”
gojo misses you more than anything, feeling so much distance even within the house that he flips over — by now the sun shines its golden rays a little less. the afternoon is winding down into a cool evening — and pulls at the waistband of his pants. he’s still sensitive, wrapping a hand around his hard cock and pumping and the sound that leaves his mouth is borderline slutty. with another smell of your cunt, he strokes his dick, using his cum as lube.
“oh . . r-right there— mhnng . .” satoru’s hips buck into his hand, squeezing and thumbing at his cock before unbundling your panties and wrapping them around his shaft. the sight drives him insane. sure, it’s one of your more everyday underwear, neutral in both design and colour but he can feel the fabric get wetter and wetter from how much cum he’s pushed out earlier and that’s enough to keep his hand pumping. “s-sweetness, cummin—”
gojo’s head makes a dent in your other pillow from how hard he was pushing it, back arching at how the warmth in his hand will never compare to your mouth or pussy. he can already feel his second orgasm approaching, your room filled with the squelch of his cock and his sounds and he shoots his load with a drawn out moan all over your panties and his stomach. his cum is always so much, dripping down his pelvis and onto his hand and also . . yours?
your boyfriend lets out the girliest scream you’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing, scrambling up to the headboard when he sees you hovering over his body. he accidentally kicks your chest in the process and you have to clutch it with a small “ow”, although a small smile is still present on your face.
“having fun?”
“dude, what the fuck?”
your smile drops, “dude?”
gojo suddenly has his hands moving frantically, “nonono— no, sorry, i meant baby!”
you sigh, sitting back down on your heels as you take in the sight: his still hard cock and the sweat lining his body. his bangs are wet and your eyes flit down to your soiled underwear.
“uh . . i was just borrowing it,” gojo nervously chuckles, handing the cum-filled panty to you and your brows furrow.
“darling, you can’t just give someone back their clothes with your come on it.”
and your boyfriend pouts again, “i really am sorry. and for everything else, too. for not cleaning up and for being a general bum,” this is why you also (sometimes) favoured his unseriousness when you were talking about difficult things. the amount of times you had succumbed to his touches and kisses when you were mad at him was much better than your pride. gojo brings you onto his lap like his dick wasn’t just out, and you relish in the closeness you’ve missed.
“i need you to show me you mean it, ’toru,” he lights up at the nickname he loves just as you point a finger in his face, “aht! calm down. don’t think we’re all buddy-buddy again.”
“i will try,” gojo is smooth, taking your hand into his while the other brushes the hair away from your eyes. you lean into the touch, “and i will try until you see my efforts.”
you smile at his honesty, “and i’m sorry for ignoring you as well. it was childish of me.”
gojo hums, bringing your face in to plant a kiss to your lips, “i missed you like crazy, princess.”
you laugh, “yeah i can tell, i miss you too.” you gesture to all of him and he whines softly at the joke, squeezing your waist.
“you’re not weirded out?”
his breath hitches when you move down his body and situate yourself between them, finger tracing his tip and teasing him, “why would i be? i’ve literally fucked myself wearing your shirt.”
gojo gulps loudly, “you did w-what?”
“i’m just better at not getting caught.” all words are taken from his lips then, when your mouth engulfs him and the feeling of it is just pure insanity. gojo pants and his thighs tense, a hand gathering your hair into a ponytail to keep it from interfering. his eyes fixate on the way your suck him off, recalling the last time he’s watched you do that was in a damn bathroom.
“y-your mouth—” satoru swears under his breath when you swirl your tongue around his shaft, the tip of his cock making bulges on the side of your mouth and it only leaves him calling out your name time after time.
“y’know,” you gargle on him, slurping up his cum, “i know what you were thinking starin’ at me last night.”
gojo snaps his fingers and mumbles out a shaky damn, because he can always be read like an open book. he just didn’t know he was that obvious.
“looked cute staring,” you mutter around him, “like a little puppy.”
you slap his thick length on your tongue, moaning when you feel just how heavy it is, “you just wanted this so bad, didn’t you?”
gojo whines at your words, nodding, and you go back to the abuse on his dick, bobbing your head up and down as your hand plays with his balls. the other moves over his torso, at the porcelain skin there and you can feel his stomach heaving at your ministrations.
“are you close, baby?” you ask mindlessly, the lewd sounds of his fat cock in your mouth sending sensations right down to your sex as well. you never really listen to his answer, taking a deep breath and sucking in your cheeks and soon you’re deep throating your lover.
“mh— mmf . .” sounds deep from your throat as your nose buries itself in his pubes, and satoru struggles to hold your tantalising stare. he can feel his tip hit the back of your throat and his moans are quick and high-pitched.
“cumming— ’m cumming,” before you come off and you go back to your pace and gojo’s small moans descend into longer ones at the feeling. his eyes roll back right into his skull as he twitches in your mouth and soon he’s spilling right into your throat and tongue.
“baby—” satoru’s eyes are squeezed tightly shut, “s-shit . .” and the sheer amount of cum always takes you off guard, sputtering over it when you drag your lips off of him. your boyfriend’s eyes are hooded and darkened, looking at how the strings of his semen droop from your mouth and connect right to his weeping tip.
“eugh, eat more veggies, ’toru. you’re bitter as fuck.” you say with a giggle, swallowing nonetheless as you wipe a hand across your mouth, “thanks for the meal.”
his spirit has certainly ascended, chest heaving and legs jelly from that mind-blowing orgasm. even he takes solace on the headboard, looking down at you with tired eyes.
“but i’m not done,” you truly weren’t, driving satoru to the brink after you’ve milked him to his limit, and yet he wouldn’t have it any other way as he thrusts into you, having had a new burst of energy after seeing your confidence wane once you’ve gotten his dick in you.
it was cute — your words breaking up and staggering as you sink down for the first time after two days, reduced merely to whines as you ride him. gojo lets you have your fun for a bit before he properly flips you over, pressing down on your lower back.
“fuck yourself onto me, baby,” he can tell you’ve missed him too by how you squeeze around him, a sly grin on his face when your hips push back onto him. he sees the tight hold you have on the silk sheets and the soft whimpers leaving your mouth. “good girl . . juuust like that.”
you’re jerking forward when he slaps your ass, letting it ripple from the force of both of his hand and your hips. but he takes over soon enough, grabbing both your arms and pulling you gently off that you’re hanging limply. and even while he does that, he’s still focused on the way your lips spread to accommodate him together with a ring of white at the base of his cock.
“that feel good? huh?” gojo mumbles, loving the way you arch your back and your head lols forward, just letting him do whatever he wants to you. you’re too far gone to even quell the ache in your thighs, too distracted by the wetness of your pussy.
“feel s— s’good, satoru—!” you moan out and like always satoru is indecisive in everything, now tugging you up to rest chest to back. “g’na cum!”
your legs spread more and more as your lover keeps you tightly pressed against him, an arm around your neck and the other, waist. wordlessly, he guides your face to the side, meeting your mouth in a sloppy, drooling kiss and his hips stutter at the way you mewl into his mouth.
“that right, princess?” he asks into your lips, relishing in your face contorting in pleasure. eyes reaching heaven and your mouth parted cutely even more when he props a leg up and his cockhead presses against your cervix ever so lightly.
“y—yeah . .” it’s a mix between a whine and a moan before the only rub of your clit from satoru’s hand sends you reeling and you’re trembling in his hold. you can feel your juices coat his length just as he cums as well, too obsessed with the way your cunt feels aeons better than his pathetic hand. he litters your skin with groans of his own, continue to fuck his cum back into you as you milk him dry with ropes and ropes of semen painting your womb white.
“good little girl,” he hums, and you sigh at the feeling of him cumming again, sensing him removing himself with you with an obscene pop! and you want to continue. you’re already moving your hips yet again, begging with small please’s but the happy-go-lucky song of the dryer interrupts the both of you. you scowl.
gojo laughs into your neck, and you’re left grumbling as he sets you down gently, letting you catch your breath before he presses a kiss to your sweaty cheek.
“i’ll handle it, baby,” satoru made a promise to you and he’ll keep it. he hurriedly pulls his sweatpants over his bottom half, “you just rest up.”
it’s not even two minutes later that you already miss him, trotting over to the laundry room in nothing but his shirt and you just watch as he removes the clothes with a certain tranquillity and delicateness that you’d like to see this sight more often and all you can muster in the moment is your arms around his middle.
and the sweetness of the moment is immediately ruined by gojo, “let’s fuck here. whaddya say?”
your roommate and lover can only grin when you turn him around to smack him (“it’s!” slap “not!” slap “sanitary!” slap “here!” slap), finally happy everything’s back to normal. satoru simply presses a kiss to your temple.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jjk gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk thirsts#gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo smut#gojo satoru x you
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he lives in you
Characters: Leona, Floyd, Jamil, Lilia
Synopsis: You shared a night of passion with your lover before you left for the other side of the mirror, but fate's cruel hands strike once again as you realise you have to raise his child alone in your original world. Thankfully, your child is incredibly drawn to magic, and they opened a portal...?
Tags: slight angst, fluffy end because im a sap, fem reader, reader gives birth to a child, reunions, bot proofread
Word count: 2.4k+
Notes: uh i was practicing Japanese and researching Japanese names before writing this, so all my name ideas ended up in japanese? if it makes you uncomfortable, you can imagine that reader is japanese hehe
right in time for mother's day, so here's to a celebration of the motherly figures in our lives, blood related or not, for being there for us<3
Part 2✧Part 3✧Part 4✧Masterlist
A few months passed as you settled back into your routine at home. Eventually, with the noticeable changes in your body, it dawned on you that you were with child—his child, your lover from the other side of the mirror whom you could no longer reach.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks turn into months. You had adapted to the trials and tribulations of parenthood. Juggling the responsibilities of work, childcare, and household chores was no easy feat, but you found solace in the small moments of your child's growth and development.
Your child was a true joy to behold, a mirror image of their father in many ways, and you often see the ghost of your past lover in them. Having inherited his magic, your child experimented with their powers, leaving you to support them with what limited knowledge of magic that remained from your NRC days.
On one such experiment, your environment started to shift as a wave of magical energy engulfed you. When you opened your eyes again, he was there, right in front of you—
Hina (日来) with 日 meaning "sun, day" and 来 meaning "coming, future"
Leona reminded you of a shining sun that radiated warmth and light in your life, of how the it would surely shine again no matter how dark the night seemed, and so you named your daughter after that image
your daughter has the clearest emerald eyes and flowing dark brown locks that you often braided in a similar style to her father's
she's very energetic, always curious and asking questions, eager to learn more about the world around her
she's an obedient child, although she's eager to seek your affection and may whine a bit when things don't go her way
if there was one thing that was similar to the Leona you knew, it's that she's extremely clingy and constantly seeks physical affection, hugging your legs and asking for you to carry them any chance she has
and also the fact that she enjoyed her naps a bit too much
her lion ears are a bit of an issue in our world, but you often hide them with hoods, clever hair styling, or simply saying it's a costume
when you told her about the brilliant man her father is, she grew really excited about the possibility of meeting him, and started playing around with magic more to be like the intelligent mage he is
and then it happened, just an ordinary afternoon practicing magic had the two of you transported back to twisted wonderland, face to face to Leona
somehow, he had grown even more handsome in the years you hadn't seen him, but instead of his lazy smile, he looked confident and powerful, like the leader he was always meant to be
A sudden gust of magic swept through the air behind him as he raised his staff in response, only to immediately drop it in shock as your figure came into sight, and beside you, a small child that he had never seen before.
"Herbivore..." he whispered.
Without a second thought, Leona rushed towards you, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He felt a lump forming in his throat as he reached out to embrace you tightly.
"This better not be a dream," he murmured into the crook of your neck as he inhaled your scent. "It's really you."
after a tearful reunion and introduction, Leona quickly excuses himself from his duties with a quick meeting with Falena, and helps you and Hina settle into the palace
since you left, Leona's been working hard to do what he can do as per your promise with him
he's now in charge of foreign affairs and on better terms with his brother after much needed communication
he showers you in affection, he's even clingier than before that it almost starts a rivalry with your daughter
he puts in a lot of effort to spend time with Hina, learning her likes and dislikes and bonding over magic
uncle jack and ruggie are always fun to be around and play with her
though it wasn't his fault, leona feels guilty you had to bare the responsibility on your own for so long, and he puts in a lot of effort to make amends for any mistakes work to build a strong relationship with you two
he has a family now, and you're damn sure he'll protect it with his life
Leona looked down at Hina, feeling a sense of pride and wonder at the little girl standing before him. "Hey there," he said, his voice gentle. "Nice to meet ya, kiddo."
Hina stared at him, her eyes searching his face. "Are you my dad?" she asked, her voice small and uncertain.
Leona's heart ached at the question, knowing that he had missed so much of her life. "Yeah, I'm your dad," he said, reaching out to take her hand.
Hina looked at him for a moment before a smile spread across her face. "Can you show me magic?" she asked, her eyes lighting up with excitement.
Leona felt a sense of joy at her words, feeling a connection with her that he had never felt before. "Of course I can," he said, standing up and taking her hand. "What do you wanna see?"
Sakura (桜) meaning "cherry blossoms"
your daughter has sleek teal hair that reminds you of the sea, a single strand of dark hair, and mismatched eyes in the same manner as Floyd
Floyd had lovingly given you the nickname "Shrimpy", and it only felt right for your daughter to be named Sakura, after the tiny sakura-shrimp
she's incredibly mischievous and there's not a moment of silence with her, she's spontaneous and playful and you've got your hands full
though she is very considerate of you and will listen to your words, she's uncontrollable when she's bored and in need of a spark of interest
she's also a squeezer, much like her father, and hugs you every time she sees you or anyone she likes, and you're thankful her strength hasn't developed too much yet
she enjoys biting you, albeit gently, and you find your arms littered with bite marks, but it's her unique way of showing affection
her eel form won't show unless she's been in the water for too long (thankfully), and she enjoys squeezing you in her eel form even more
ever so curious, she's asked about her father many times, and you've told her how carefree and easygoing her father is, and that he'd love her the moment she saw her
which leads you to her magic actually teleporting you to him, her spontaneous idea having manifested itself, and you found in a dimly lit room similar to the Mostro Lounge
Floyd looked matured, his hair sleeked back and his features sharpened, though his wry smile that you loved had stayed the same
Floyd's eyes widened with shock and disbelief, and his steps quickened as he rushes towards you, his long arms outstretched in a gesture of longing. As he got closer, he noticed the beautiful and curious-looking child standing close to you.
"Shrimpy?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "No way... It's really you!"
Floyd pulled you close, holding you tightly as if he never wanted to let go. "I missed ya so much, I wish I hadn't let ya go," he said, his voice choked with emotion as tears threatened to spill. "You're not allowed to leave again, okay?"
Floyd is so ecstatic he can't stand still, once he's calmed down a bit, be immediately carries Sakura and drags you to Jade and Azul
Azul and Jade are pleasantly surprised at your return, and it's a warm welcome back
the two of them are glad Floyd won't be moping any time soon
the trio have now expanded into a franchise and divulged into many businesses, though Floyd largely acts as Azul's right-hand man
Now that you're back, he refuses to be apart from you, always holding onto you tightly and afraid you might disappear just like how suddenly you appeared
he does get mood swings where he's upset or angry, not at you though, just at how unfair things were and how he couldn't be there for you
he's a good eel who does everything to make sure you and Sakura are happy and comfortable, often cooking meals for you two
he's so curious about Sakura and enjoys playing with her and lifting her high up in the air
don't worry, he's extremely careful, this precious gem is why you got back to him!
Jade is the best uncle and Sakura wants to marry him??? (honestly same)
poor Azul is getting pranked by the daughter- father duo, though Sakura does comfort him afterwards with squeezes and kissss
Floyd looked down at Sakura, and he saw her staring back at him with wide, curious eyes in the opposite colours of his eyes. Though she resembled him physically, there was an air about her that was so distinctly his Shrimpy.
"Heya," Floyd said, trying to sound friendly. "I'm your dad."
Sakura giggled and reached out to him, her tiny hands grasping at his hands. Floyd froze, not sure what to do, letting her yand his hand forward. But then, she opened her mouth and bit down on finger.
"Hey!" Floyd cried, pulling back in surprise.
Sakura just laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Floyd couldn't help but laugh too, despite the pain in his finger.
"Yer a feisty one, aren't ya, Sakura-shrimpy?" he teased, grinning down at her as he ruffled her hair. "You know," he whispered, "you can't just go around biting people like that. But I like your style."
Isami (功己) 功 meaning "achievement, credit, honour, merits" and 己 meaning "self, serpent, snake."
your son has smooth ebony locks and sharp grey eyes that make him look slightly intimidating
Jamil had shown you how much he valued his achievements over his social status, so you chose a name the could embody him
he's a quiet child who's always attentive and careful
he's rather shy in front of other people, but when it's you he'll soak up all of your affection and stare at you with longing eyes seeking praise
he's a cute helper at home too! he always volunteers to help you with chores and cook in the kitchen, though you're careful he's not close to anything sharp or dangerous
he does have an inherent fear of bugs, something he's inherited from Jamil, but thankfully you've taught him to be less destructive than his father
do expect screams and for him to be crying as a little fly chases him around though
he's incredibly smart and talented at magic, easily grasping the concepts of magic you can only teach him theoretically
when you told him about his father, you've told him about the diligent man that his father is, and how would let his guard down around those he treasured
he had listened quietly without much of a change in his expression, but you could tell there was a bubbling excitement building up in his eyes
and no long after that, he managed to teleport the two of you to a warm, airy room of marble walls
Jamil's features had sharpened, he seemed more openly confident and comfortable with himself
Jamil's heart skipped a beat as he saw you. It had been five years since he bid your farewell at the mirror chamber and lost you forever. And yet here you were standing here in front of him with a child in tow, a child who resembled him so much.
"It can't be..." he murmurs.
Without hesitation, Jamil dropped all the papers and rushed towards you, his heart pounding furiously. His eyes locked with yours, and in that moment, time seemed to stand still. He could see the love and longing still shining in your eyes, and he knew deep down that he had never stopped loving you.
Jamil couldn't stop the tears that began streaming down his face. "I've missed you so much," he said, his voice raspy. "Letting you go is the worst decision I've ever made." He reached out and pulling you into a tight embrace, his arms shaking with emotions.
he's a bit overwhelmed but still so thankful you're back in his life
Kalim barges in at this time and exclaims in surprise at your return and ??? OMG JAMIL YOU HAVE A SON?!!
Jamil has half a mind to dissuade him from holding a banquet immediately to welcome you back, and instead take things slow to not overwhelm you or Isami
asks Kalim for some privacy and the second he's away, he melts into your embrace
he hasn't felt so at ease in so long
if he wakes up in the morning and you're not right there beside him, he's panicking and searching all over the place for some confirmation you're still here
he's very curious about Isami and asks him all sorts of questions to piece together his development and personality
they definitely have a rivalry over who's braver over bugs but it just ends up with the two hugging you for safety
he's a bit awkward with how careful he is with his emotions, so it takes Isami some time to fully trust him
but trust me, Jamil will go above and beyond for his family and there's no way Isami will have to endure what Jamil did in his childhood
Jamil's eyes widened in surprise and wonder. He couldn't believe that they had created a life together. He knelt down to the Isami' eye level and looked into his eyes. "Hello there," he said, his voice gentle and warm. "What's your name?"
Isami starred back at him, his eyes wide with distrust and caution before he buried his face in your legs. Jamil chuckled softly. "It's okay," he comforted. "You don't have to be shy around me. I'm your dad."
Isami looked up at him again, this time with a mix of curiosity and wonder. "Daddy?" they said, testing the word out.
Jamil smiled warmly as nodded, his heart swelling with love and joy. "Yes, daddy," he parroted. "And I promise I'm never going to leave you or your mommy again."
Yuri (百合) meaning "lily"
Lilia's name always reminded you for lily flowers, and what better name for your daughter to embody him?
your daughter has straight raven hair with some of the hair flipping upwards resembling two horns, angular fae ears, and bright crimson eyes
she's always up for pranks and mischief, it's rare to see her without a smile
she loves exploring places, if you keep your eyes off her for one second, she's letting her curiosity take her to whatever she wants
if you're serious and stern though, she will listen to you, she wouldn't dare make her mother upset!
she's friendly with everyone and isn't shy to say hi to neighbors or absolute strangers
she's not overly affectionate, but she definitely enjoys hugs and kisses from you
she has an odd habit of taking stray animals back home in an attempt to adopt them, so you have little adventures with her trying to find an owner
do not let her in the kitchen
she has surely inherited her father's cooking abilities, somehow, she can render even a piece of toast beyond human consumption
magic comes as second nature to her, and she's always standing on ceilings
gosh her eyes absolutely sparkled when you told her about the teasing and mischievous fae that is her father
and soon, the portal opened and you found yourself in a gothic castle lit up by green candles
He's a lot taller, his hair longer and reaching his waist, and more enchanting than ever
Lilia stood in shock as your family figure come into sight. In all his years of living, he had never been so utterly stunned. After all these years, you had finally returned to him.
"Beastie..." Lilia gasped, his voice catching in his throat.
With a surge of energy, Lilia broke free from the trance-like state and hurried towards you, his hair streaming behind him like a dark flag as he enveloped you tightly in his embrace. "After all these years, you've truly come back to me?"
Carefully, Lilia held you at arm's length, studying your matured features, etching them into his memory like a cherished work of art. His eyes traced the lines and contours of your face, memorizing every detail that time had etched upon you.
"My, how you've grown," Lilia murmured, a mix of pride and wistfulness coloring his words. "The years have shaped you into a remarkable individual."
it's family reunion time!!!
he immediately drags you to the throne room where malleus, silver and sebek are
malleus is now king with two incredibly reliable bodyguards, and Lilia's his most trusted advisor
malleus is so glad his dear human friend is back, silver is satisfied that his father will have someone to be with, and sebek is screaming about Yuri, though she enjoys his loudness
for a while, Lilia is extremely affectionate, trying to make up for all the years that had gone by
when you're sleeping together at night, he hugs you tightly and it's difficult to leave his embrace
he definitely tries to cook for you two, going on and on about how the two of you need to stay healthy and need lots of nutrients
you always volunteer your portion for Yuri, and she'll gladly eat whatever her father has cooked for her
silver is an older brother often on babysitting duty, and Yuri loves watching him spar with sebek and also wants to learn
Sebek is quite fond of Yuri, and he sees his half-fae self in her
Lilia is always trying to fun with Yuri, bouncing her high up in the air and teaching her to hang upside down and swing around
plans so many family vacations, he can't wait to be exploring places with his two darlings
"Is she... ours?" Lilia asked. At your nod, he reached out to caress Yuri's cheek, his touch gentle as if he were touching fragile porcelain.
"Well, I'll be damned," Lilia chuckled, his voice cracking with emotion. "I never thought I'd be a father again. But I'm glad to meet you, little one. What's your name?"
Yuri giggled and and beamed at his touch. "My name's Yuri," she said, her voice sweet as honey.
"Yuri," Lilia repeated, his heart swelling with emotion. "What a beautiful name for my beautiful girl," he reached up to fondle her hair. "You know, Yuri," Lilia said, his voice growing serious. "I may not have been there for you when you were born, but I promise I'll always be here for you from now on. No matter what happens, I'm your father, and I'll always love you darling."
Part 2✧Part 3✧Part 4✧Masterlist
if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!
#twstnexus#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland leona#leona kingscholar x reader#leona kingsholar#twisted wonderland floyd#floyd leech x reader#floyd leech#twisted wonderland jamil#jamil viper#jamil viper x reader#twisted wonderland lilia#lilia vanrouge#lilia vanrouge x reader
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Magic
Moon Boys x reader<3
summary: you were married to Jake and after the events of moonknight, the boys get to know of jake and of you. Steven adores you but Marc just sees you as a friend. Right?
A/N: okay the timeline is a bit wonky but here's what i thought while writing the fic. Jake dated you for a year and a half before putting a ring on it. And you've been married for three years. You met Steven and Marc a year ago and have been dating Steven for eight months. Marc became friends with you a month after meeting you. please comment and reblog if you liked it!
Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort
@jake-g-lockley
Marc was a lot of things. Pig-headed, stubborn, horrible at communication, a fighter. But he wasn't arrogant He could admit it when he didn't know something.
But right now he knew one thing and one thing only, that Jake was a prime idiot.
Marc stayed in the background when Jake was fronting around you, most of the time. Not always, of course. He wasn't a perv and one to to intrude between a husband and a wife. But he knew you. So did Steven, and you knew them.
He'd considered you his friend. Maybe one of his best, just months after meeting you. You and him shared many a night after Jake's missions talking and watching movies, when your husband was knocked out. You made him fall in love with chai, something that knocked Steven's socks off and he'd taught you the basics of baseball so you weren't clueless when you watched baseball with him.
It wasn't always so nice.
"You're married?!"
"Yeah, what's your problem with that?" Jake had become defensive, he wouldn't let Marc or Steven breathe a single ill word towards you.
"No, it's no problem at all, pal." Marc seethed, outraged, "except for the fact that I was married to Layla! God what if she almost say you when we were married? No wonder it ended!"
"Fuck off, man. You know full well why your marriage didn't work out with Layla. And unlike her, I told my lady fucking everything. She knows everything, from the cave to the sarcophagus. So she knew what to do and what to be careful of, including you. So don't blame my marriage for the reason yours didn't work out."
This was when Steven had interjected, he was unsurprisingly on Jake's side.
"He's right, Marc. If his wife knows everything then you can't blame him, and it's honestly rather mean and unfair of you to be angry at someone you haven't even met."
It took a few hours for Marc to calm down, and actually, apologise to Jake.
Hesitantly, Jake offered, "Y'know, if you want you can meet her. She practically knows everything about you and uh, Steven's most probably seen her around. She goes to the museum every week."
"Wait a minute! That lady with the Van Gogh tote bag?"
"Yup."
"Oh wow! She's really sweet, and beautiful! Hell, mate. You scored."
Jake had to smile at that, he knew he scored with you. For the longest time he felt like you were too good for him and that someone as kind, clever, intelligent and beautiful as you shouldn't have had to settle for someone like him. But you'd kiss away every ill thought he had about himself and reassure him. Communication was a very, very vital and important part of the relationship and you had helped him learn that it wasn't selfish to voice his thoughts. Especially because he put everyone's needs before his for so long.
"I know, man."
Steven had readily agreed to front and meet you, and Marc was okay with being co-conscious during the interaction as well. So on one fine day, Jake had brought them to the house he considered his home. He worked to contribute to it's rent, and buy things for it and for you. It was home, after all. You were his home.
Marc didn't know what to expect but when Jake had stepped in and hung his jacket on the stand and taken his shoes off, footsteps could be heard running from the main bedroom and he saw you running straight into Jake's arms. Jake laughed wildly, picking you up and twirling you around, much to your delight as you kissed the life out of him.
When he put you down, he could get a clear glimpse of you. Your hair was messy and your t-shirt was rumpled. And when he saw you smile he knew why Jake had fallen in love with you. Why Steven thought you were beautiful and sweet. Verything about you screamed, home.
Your greeting to Jake threw both the boys off, "Who the fuck are you?"
Jake smirked, "The fuck you mean, ma?"
"I mean, who." you poked him once, "are." twice, "you?" thrice and Jake started giggling. Fucking giggling like some little schoolgirl. You laughed too, and hugged him tight.
"Hey, baby." he kissed your forehead and you smiled.
"Hi." you kissed his nose.
"I have two guys who'd like to meet you."he raised his eyebrows.
Your jaw dropped a little, "For real? Wait, you're being serious, you're not screwing with me?"
"Why would I screw with you, when I could just screw you?"
The men in his head and you all let out a simultaneous groan.
Steven met you first, and it went swell, you'd both bonded over history and literature. And a love for Taylor Swift. But that was a secret. You liked him a lot and he positively adored you.
Marc, on the other hand, was much more closed off, he'd be polite, but he'd be curt as well. A combination you didn't know was possible.
After a few weeks of trying to bond with him, resulting in almost a small meltdown. It had taken Jake being knocked out after a mission and being too tired to eat to actually get him to talk to you over a meal.
It was one of the best things he'd eaten in his goddamn life and the groan he'd let out after the first bite brought a laugh out of you.
So yes, Marc would consider you one of his best friends. Steven and you had started going out with each other a few months ago and it was going so well.
But not Marc.
Because he didn't like you like that.
Of course not, you were his friend.
You were his friend who made him laugh because you had the same dark sense of humour. You hugged him when he needed one but was too uptight to ask you. You, who googled the Cubs and learnt everything you could about them just so you could talk to him as well, the way you talked to Steven about Jane Austen and the Indus Valley.
He didn't know when it became something more to him.
And he didn't see how you'd look him at him when he laughed, or when he was focused on the TV, or when he made you tea the way you liked it, Jake had taught him how to do that.
No, to him, you were just his best friend.
And you were currently crying your eyes out because Jake and you had gotten into a huge fight. He'd missed your anniversary because of a mission and he was working with Hathor's avatar. He failed to mention the part where he was forced to pretend they were a thing to prevent being caught and you'd caught him smelling of her perfume and gotten rightfully furious.
Not because of her, but because he didn't tell you that it had been happening for a few days. That the week he'd spent away from you, he'd had to pretend he was someone else's and he was too scared to tell you. That's why you were mad, because you thought he didn't trust you.
You'd raised your voice as he turned his back on you and he turned around, face contorted in rage. Steven tried calming him down as he stalked over to you. You stood your ground, Jake would never lay a hand on you. You knew that. But it was what he said, that broke you.
"You're being a fucking nuisance. Instead of trying to understand, you're being more of a burden by finding shit to get mad at. Grow the fuck up."
That prime ass had the audacity to call you a burden. A nuisance.
And then he had the fucking nerve to leave and complete his mission and give control to Marc. Steven had chewed the fuck out of him and Marc would have loved to as well, but he needed to see you. See if you were okay.
As soon as he stepped in, he saw you on the sofa, rapidly wiping your tears away. You sagged again when you knew it was him. Somehow you always knew.
He furrowed his eyebrows at your disheveled state. Your eyes were swollen and wet with tears and you were breathing very heavily and in quick spurts.
"What do you need?" Marc asked you, sitting down beside you.
"C-can I have" you coughed, "a hug, Marc?" you said in a small voice, looking away.
Marc immediately moved to hug you close. Shushing you when you began to cry again.
What hurt was that he knew, and Jake knew, and Steven knew that you hated being a burden or an inconvenience to anyone. And today, the one man you trusted the most in this world had made you feel like that. And he couldn't even apologize.
'Jake you fucking idiot.' he rocked you a little, 'you better come out and fix this. she may be our friend but this is because of you, fix this.'
Jake remained silent in the reflection of the mirror next to the door. He looked wrecked at seeing you sob, and tears were falling down his own eyes.
'Mate.' Steven spoke up, he sounded mad, 'You made our girl cry. Stop being a fucking coward and fix this!'
When he was met with silence, Steven seethed, 'Marc, gimme the body.'
You knew exactly when it was Steven hugging you, and you kissed his cheek and breathed him in.
"Oh, love." he tried to comfort you, "I'm sorry. You're not a burden, I promise you." he kissed your forehead.
"I know that, Steven. I know I'm not a burden to you. I'm scared I'm becoming one to him. He doesn't even want to look at me!" you sniffed.
Steven glared at Jake in the mirror, who was wiping away his own tears.
Steven and Marc knew why Jake was so worked up. They knew that whoever Jake and Hathor's avatar was after called their bluff. They knew that those people had found the woman's partner and Jake was terrified for you and he couldn't even tell you because he never, ever wanted to be the reason for any feeling you had that wasn't bliss, happiness, content, or pleasure. And because he was sure he could find those assholes and beat the living shit out of them for even thinking of harming you.
But it wasn't their place to tell you, that much was apparent. Jake dug his grave, and then jumped into it. He had to crawl out of it on his own now.
"I just want to be someone he's happy to be with." you whisper and that's when Jake straightened up, heartbroken.
"Give me the body, hermano."
"All yours."
Only Jake scrunched the back of your shirts when he hugged you and you moved to hug him tightly as he whispered apologies in your ear.
"Baby, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry I made you feel like you were a burden and that I was anything but fucking delighted to be with you." he kissed your nose and then told you everything. Looking away because he was scared.
"I didn't tell you at first because I didn't want to just say that I had to pretend I was dating someone else and then fuck off for a week. I made a mistake in assuming that'd you get mad and it's because if I was in your place, I would be. But you're stronger than me, tesoro, and I failed to see that and I'm so sorry."
"Baby, I forgive you." you replied and he breathed out a sigh of relief, "But please, don't keep stuff like this in, okay? You can trust me, you know that."
He nodded fiercely and then he kissed you. Noses nudging and lips parting as he breathed you in like you were his lifeline, and he yours. He cupped your face and held you tight against him and when he pulled away you smiled at him, your eyes shining.
Steven fronted again with a little smile and you kissed him lovingly with a whispered 'i love you'. He just winked at you and kissed the back of your hand and then your forehead again before Jake took back control and carried you to the bed, kissing you deeply all the way.
----
Marc was fine, no he just needed a glass of water. He'd carefully rolled off the bed, thankful that he was at least wearing sweatpants and padded to the kitchen.
He should have known that you were a light sleeper.
"Marc." you began, your voice raspy.
He hummed in reply and held out his glass to you. You accepted it and drank your fill, giving it back to him.
After a few more moments of silence, you spoke up, "I thanked Steven for comforting me. But I didn't thank you." you cleared your throat, "Thank you, Marc." you said, sincerely, "You're one of my best friends."
Marc smiled at you. Actually smiled. And you smiled back and kept going, "And Jake and Steven know this and are okay with it so I-"
"You don't have to thank me, honey." he patted your shoulder, trying to conceal his tears as he looked away because god he was dumb. Dumb enough to realize now, that he loved you, "I'm glad I'm your friend."
To him, you were everything. You were sunrays and moonbeams and everything that he believed was magical as a boy. Everything he stopped believing in as he grew up. The first time you made him laugh and joined him he felt sure that magic existed after all, because what else could you be?
He tried walking past you but you held his hand and he froze, tears streaming down his cheeks.
You walked over to him and held his face in your hands. His eyes shut as you wipe away his tears. And he whimpered as you kissed his forehead.
"Marc. Open your eyes and look at me." you said softly.
He was terrified. That you'd seen past his mask and were going to let him down gently. Because to you, what could he be? Certainly nothing more than a friend.
"Sweetheart. Please."
When his eyes finally opened, they met yours.
"Marc. I fucking love you." you confessed and he let out a sob. Pulling you into a tight hug.
"I love you. God I love you so much, Sweetheart." he says into your hair, kissing all over your face, but not your lips.
"Can I kiss you?" you asked him, looking at him with those beautiful eyes of yours.
He nods and your hands travel to his locks and pull them lightly as you bring your lips to his own. Humming sweetly as he wraps his arm around you and licks into you.
Yes, he reasons yet again as you hold his face in your hands and smile at him, magic does exist. And it's in his arms. He loves it and so do the men in his head who cheer for him, albeit sleepily, looking at you lovingly.
And they'd never let you go.
#jake lockley x reader#steven grant x reader#marc spector x reader#moon knight x reader#jake lockley angst#marc spector angst#moon knight angst#moon knight#marvel cinematic universe#oscar isaac x reader
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Telling Zuko He Got You Pregnant
Pairing: Zuko x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, morning after, suggestive, cuddles, morning sickness, pregnancy reveal, suggestive towards the end
A/N: This idea got commented on my smutember Zuko fic so I wanted to write it.
Before your relationship became public mornings after with Zuko were never as sweet as they could have been due to you having to sneak out of his room every time. You didn't have to do that anymore after Zuko announced your engagement. There were rumors and whispers both before and after, some more vile then others. It didn't matter when you were cuddled up against his naked chest after a passionate night, nothing bad mattered in moments like this.
You shifted on top of him, his ever longer hair tickling your cheek as you moved and stretched. Seeing his face be so peaceful, with that small smile and his hands leaving feather-like, yet always hot touches over your back filled your heart with warmth.
"I love you." You didn't think you could hear you, with him still being asleep but after years of being alert even the smallest sound woke him up.
"I love you too." He could definitely feel your heart start beating faster. That damn tease.
Before you could respond with a clever comeback a wave of nausea hit you. To avoid being too gross first thing in the morning you shoved off him and rushed to the first empty vase. At least you hoped it was empty before you got to it. That was a full week in a row that this happened to you.
At first Zuko teased you, "You know you don't have to run first thing in the morning anymore?"
Granted you thought you were sick, just sick, not... but it was too many times, then the scents, the tastes that you couldn't swallow without your stomach turning. You had to confirm it and you did. Now you'd confirm it to him too.
"Love, are you alright?" Zuko was by your side in seconds, holding your hair back, and throwing a robe over your body, "Are you sick? Should I call for someone to get you medicine?"
"I... already went to a healer." You looked at his confused face, feeling a little scared. Taking him by the hand and leading him to sit beside you on the bed. You tried to keep your eyes on his face and not the rest of his naked body. "I've been feeling sick lately so went to see a healer. She... I... I'm..." You bit your lower lip, Zuko's hand taking yours to comfort you, his golden eyes encouraging you to go on. Slowly you placed his warm palm on your stomach, seeing his eyes widen before you uttered, "Zuko, I'm pregnant."
"P-Preg- oh. I... we're gonna... wait... since when?" He didn't move his hand or his eyes from your belly, his palm emanating more heat than usual.
"Since that time in the throne room." Your face, no whole body, grew hot when you remembered the ordeal. The things he said to you in that moment, how much he wanted you, how good and right it felt to have him inside of you. "We're gonna be parents."
The warmth of his hand was quickly replaced by the warmth of his cheek and his arms around your body as he knelt at the foot of the bed and embraced you, "I'll try my best for you." He wouldn't be like his father, he'll be better, you know he will because he loves you, more than anything in the world. You threaded your hands through his hair, basking in the coziness of the shared moment. "Wanna kiss you."
"Zuko, I just threw up." However he looked at you with a smirk, winking before bowing his head lower.
"I didn't say where I'm gonna kiss you." His hands eased your legs around his shoulders, pushing his robe off as your as his mouth and tongue made you moan just like you did last night.
#zuko x reader#prince zuko x reader#atla x reader#avatar the last airbender x reader#fire lord zuko x reader#fire lord zuko x y/n#zuko x you#prince zuko x you#atla x you#avatar the last airbender x you#fire lord zuko x you#zuko fluff#prince zuko fluff#atla fluff#avatar the last airbender fluff#fire lord zuko fluff#fluff drabble#x female reader
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𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆
౨ৎ . . . in which a man with no reason to live finds an unlikely one through the tribulations of being a father.
warnings: emotional dysregulation, slight angst, unplanned pregnancy, alcohol consumption, poor parenting (in the beginning), conflict, suicidal ideation, depression, depictions of birth, female reader, healing, w.c 2.4k
♪ . . . ˗ˏˋ ꒰ dancing on my own — vitamin string quartet ꒱ ˎˊ-
: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who wasn't ready to be a mother. Not now, perhaps not ever — was a rule you had laid in stone for yourself as a free-spirit intent on enjoying life to its fullest. It was why the world had tuned out into white noise when Yosano Akiko held the small test in her hand and spoke those terrifying words. With a shutter of sympathy in her eyes, coming to place a hand on your shoulder to give it a firm, comforting squeeze. She knew just as well how much you didn't want this to be true. Her touch felt condemning. You felt like you were going to vomit, just like you had been for the last four mornings in a row. Because how were you going to tell him?
: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who didn't blink, didn't draw breath, didn't do anything when you let the words stumble from your mouth in one panicked rush. It was a bright afternoon deep into summer and the Agency's café was quiet — private enough for the two of you to have this conversation. You and Dazai Osamu — you were not an item, had been content to have casual shared nights together when either of you wanted to blow off a little steam. But that night, you had said to him, do you remember that night? When we were both drunk and stupid, so stupid?
: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who, in that moment, decided not to grace you with any words. Instead, he did something far more uncharacteristic of him; he stayed quiet. He gave one shallow nod of his head and placed a hand softly onto the table so he could stand up. To steady himself, to ground himself back down when you had turned his world completely overhead, you did not know. And Dazai, who left you there, excusing himself in order to get some fresh air. The raking bastard that he was. Not once did he turn back to look you directly in the eye. Not even when you stood up, shouted his name, screamed at him, until tears spilled over your cheeks and your throat burned with the pain.
: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who saw life through a lens of grey in the couple of days following. Sometimes, you would feel so heavy that you did not wish to rise out of bed. The word swam around in your head like the song of a haunting ghoul — a mom, a mom, I am going to be a mom. Yosano would drop by your Agency apartment after work to see how you were doing, feeling your forehead, bringing you remedies to help with the nausea that roiled in your stomach. Every time, you would resist the temptation to ask where he was. And yet every time, Yosano would still tell you;
"He didn't come to work today, either."
: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who slowly came to grips with the fact that this was how it was going to be. The initial shock of it all was as relentless as it was condemning, but it was not infinite. The sun rose the next day, and the next, the world kept moving and you decided that you would have to, as well. That there was a little life growing inside your warm belly that needed a mother, no matter how unprepared you were for that fact. And, if you could do something about it, needed their father. You were not letting him just walk away from you, from the both of you, that easily.
: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who was exactly where you thought he would be when you set out that evening to find him. Of course, if he wanted to, Dazai Osamu had both the cleverness and the connections to absolutely disappear from the streets of Yokohama without a trace. If he wanted to, he could have abandoned you and this baby completely. But he didn't. Instead, he was here, laying sprawled long and lazy on his messy, unmade futon in his messy, unclean house, as if waiting to be found. When he heard you pass over the threshold of the door he didn't lock, he gave you a long, languid smile.
"My bewitching Beeella~! At looong last, she has come to tempt me!"
He slurred his speech, bringing your attention to the heavy scent in the air and the dozen or so bottles strewn about haphazardly. His hair was matted and unwashed. He looked just like you, curled in your bed, refusing to move for days. But unlike you, he was completely and utterly intoxicated.
"You look awful." You said in a low voice. Hurt at how he abandoned you in the coffee shop was still a fresh, gaping wound.
As if his head was too heavy, Dazai let it flop back down onto the cushions. He waved his hands about. "And you... look just as beautiful... as always. But—It is a trap...! A ruuuuse! A beautiful Bellaaa, sent from my torment... to tie me to this mortal coil!"
: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who let him ramble his litany of incoherencies. If only for a few merciful seconds. When you felt like you had had enough, or perhaps fearful with how far he'd take it, you kicked one of the empty glass bottles. It skirted across his floorboards and hit a neighbouring wall, exploding into countless little shards. He looked up then, attracted to the noise, trying to focus on you with his glazed whiskey-coloured eyes. In that moment, you stood your tallest, and just like the bottle you mustered up every last shred of yourself until you built it all back together.
"You." You pointed at him, feeling your voice come on thick, but strong. "You listen to me and listen to me well, I'm only going to say this once, and if you're too fucking drunk to remember it, then more is the pity. But I'm carrying your baby—our god damn baby. And if you're not going to step up and be the father they're going to need, then I'll be that for you. Just say the word, Dazai. Say the word and I'll leave. You'll never hear from me or this child ever again."
: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who said nothing in contest to that statement, but also said nothing to affirm it, either. His wide, unfocused eyes studied every feature on your face, trying to make sense of something you didn't know. And for a second, your heartrate kicked up. Because somewhere deep down inside, you wanted him to tell you to stay. You wanted him to sober up, to wear that charming, all-endearing smile and convince you that everything was going to be alright. But he didn't. And that was the moment you deflated with a sigh — laying out all the feelings you once had for him on the floor, ready to cast it to the wind. You had made it to his doorway when two strong, heavy arms came around you and all of his weight collapsed against your shoulders.
: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who buried his head into the crook of your neck, who's hair tickled your face and made your eyes sting with tears. He, who smelled of whiskey and liqueur, but in that moment, held you so tight, crushed you against his taller frame and croaked;
"Stay."
"Please... just, stay."
: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who seemed like he had undergone a transformation overnight. He always did have a strange knack for that — changing his persona so easily, crafting masks and façades. And maybe it was just that, at least in the beginning. But he had started to come back to work, again. You would enter the familiar doors early in the mornings to the tell-tale sounds of his teasing tone and Kunikida's threats. When you would walk in, he'd straighten up from whatever headlock the blond had trapped him into, and catch your eye.
"Good morning." You would whisper.
"Good morning, beautiful Bella." He would murmur right back.
: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who became used to the weight in your tummy growing heavier each day. It was Atsushi, at first, who recognised the shift in your scent and the sound of a little heartbeat in your belly through his superior feline hearing. Soon after, everyone in the Agency were offering you gifts and well wishes. Dazai received a less warm ovation. Especially from Kunikida, who threatened to flush him into the drainage system if he even thought about being one of those shitty laid-back dads who let the mom do all the work.
"That's cruel, Kunikida-kun!" Dazai whined at him. "To think of the rigid, torturous lifestyle your children will have to endure!"
He just barely dodged the office chair that was hurled at his head.
: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who, after a short while, began to let Dazai close to you again. And maybe it was foolish of you, to let that thing which always existed between you two take spark and kindle with new life. First, it was sitting together in the same booth in the coffee shop. Then, it was gentle, quiet touches — his hand brushing your back as he walked past, your fingers twining together underneath the desk where no one could see. He stole you away for long walks in the nearby park when you should have been working. To your protests, he'd pout, and say, but a pregnant lady needs to enjoy as much rest as she can~! And then, he'd kiss you. Underneath the great spurting fountain at the centre of the park. Long and sweet and promising.
: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who one time, when you were especially close to your due date and he was feeling especially silly, drew a large smiley face on your swollen belly. Or peppered a shower of kisses along the stretched skin, telling you she was taking too long, that he couldn't wait any longer and had too many kisses saved up for her, already. And on that day where you did go into labour, he held your hand, he placed those lips on your forehead and whispered gentle encouragements as you screamed through the pain.
"You are strong, my beautiful [Name]. Come on, can you give one more push? Just one more."
"You're doing so great. You are so unbelievable, so resilient and brave. My beautiful Belladonna, that's it. You can do it."
: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who, along with the chorus of elated cries from the Armed Detective Agents, made a sound of disbelief when his baby girl came into the world. Slick and wet, red and crying, but beautiful. A copy of her mother's features but with a wild head of curly brown hair. An emotion Dazai had not felt in an extremely long time crept up the back of his throat. It made him laugh, it made his eyes smart with tears. And when he came to your side to see your baby be placed onto your bare chest, a single tear escaped from the side of his eye and got lost when he buried his head into your hair.
: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who never thought he would ever grow attached to someone. There was you, of course, but if he sat with the discomfort of viewing his life without you in it, it could be done. But trying to see his life without her — his little baby girl — his mind would simply draw a blank. It was unbearable, impossible. Before long, Dazai had insisted you move into his apartment so he could be closer to you. After, of course, you threatened him to scrub the entire place from head-to-toe and remove anything non-child friendly in a black plastic bag. And he did. He used those nimble, clever hands to build the baby a little wooden crib. He would rock her to sleep and place her down, only to watch her for minutes, hours, contemplating how in the world he was ever bestowed with such a blessing.
: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who sang lullabies to her. Who sang at every given chance he had. For he was such a lovely singer, his soft, velvety voice would be a common thing amongst the walls of your little apartment. Who would sit down with the toddler and teach her all the words he knew.
"Can you say 'Kunikida' my little star?"
"Kuni—Kuni—Kooni—!"
"Kun—ee—kee—dah!" On the 'dah', he'd pinch her nose.
"Kun—eeeee—keeeee—dah!"
"Wow~!" Dazai pinched her nose again and she giggled. "Darling, did you hear that? Our little star is a genius."
"She takes after her father." You would say from around the bend of the kitchen.
Praises and chuckles and the shrieks of a delighted baby would fill the air. Dazai would then drop his voice, thinking you wouldn't hear, and say, "Now, can you say, 'is a bore!'"
"Dazai!"
: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who always took his little girl to work with him. Everyone in the Agency fell in love with her very quickly. Atsushi would transform his hands into that of giant tiger paws, pretending to growl, letting her pull at the little tufts even though it hurt him just a tad. Ranpo would ask the little baby mind-numbing riddles, then laugh, proclaiming how she barely had any braincells, but not to worry, because when she's old enough, he'd take her as his apprentice. Kunikida, who would let her handle his little ideal book, and then hold back tears when she ripped one of the pages out of it. The little girl would hold the page up high and from her little perch on the table, shout,
"Kuneeekeeda... is... a boooore!"
: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who was still laughing when he met you on the terrace roof of the Agency that night. He went straight for his little girl and held her up in the air, proclaiming that he was so proud of her. You would settle down together, just the three of you, huddled on the concrete tiles and watching the sun set over the skyline of Yokohama.
: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who would hold your daughter on your lap until her curly brown head of hair tilted into your shoulder and she snored softly. In that moment, you would crane your head onto Dazai's broad shoulder, and whisper;
"I'm glad I stayed."
: ̗̀➛ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, who would run his long fingers across his sleeping daughter's face softly, so softly, so as not to wake her. Then, he would reach up to you and cup the side of your cheek, captivating you, looking at you with an expression so warm and tender as he whispered right back;
"And I am forever grateful."
✎ . . . requested by the lovely @ringsofsaturnnnn!
WRITING REQUESTS
#bungou stray dogs#bungou stray dogs x reader#bsd#bsd x reader#dazai osamu#dazai osamu x reader#dazai#dazai x reader#dazai bsd#bsd fanfiction#bsd fanfic#🎋 — writing requests#divider by benkeibear
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Brighter Than The Sun
Astarion x gn!Reader
a/n: I have no idea if this was a prompt I saw somewhere or if this was completely out of my brain, the idea was from months ago and I finally got around to writing it.
summary: With the parasite no longer in your brains, Astarion can no longer go into the sun. You try everything you can think of to help him experience the same heat but with no luck. Until you think to use yourself as a means for Astarion to feel the suns warmth once more.
word count: 1.7k
From the shadows he watches you, his red eyes almost gleaming and noticeable through the darkness. He stands behind the door, watching you, waiting for you… He needs you and yet he knows you need to stay away, if only for a little while longer. Long enough to get what he wants.
Astarion stands behind the door of the home you two share together in Baldur's Gate. With the parasite long gone and his ascension a trickle of a memory, Astarion has long since been unable to walk in the sun. It spurns him once more as if his mask had been unveiled and even the sun could see what he truly was. While on the other hand, darkness has greeted him back like an old friend and he remains cursing it.
More than anything he yearns to once more see the color in the world, to feel its warmth on his cold skin. But even after years of searching, he feels as though you two aren’t any closer to finding a cure, from ridding him of the curse forced upon him so long ago. Even so, his mind stays focused on the task and it touches him deeply that it remains in yours as well.
Which is what has brought along today’s events. When reality had first set in, Astarion couldn’t ever explain the despair he felt toward never being able to feel the sun’s warmth again. But he didn’t have to explain. He knew you understood, he knew you saw him for all he was. You have for probably much longer than he gave you credit for. Always the one to try and fix things, Astarion wasn’t surprised when you tried thinking of clever ways he’d be able to feel the sunlight again. You had tried creating the hottest of fires and yet it didn’t feel the same. Nothing ever felt the same. Astarion had given up and urged you to do the same. He should’ve known you well enough by now to know that wasn’t something you were capable of.
So this morning when you began guiding him toward the door, Astarion briefly questioned if he was being led to his demise. If you had finally gotten tired of him and decided to end it all. Of course you hadn’t. Wouldn’t. Who’d ever get tired of him, after all… He only resisted briefly until you ended up explaining your entire plan to him. To have you stand in the sun and then shut the door and hug him. So that way, he may once again feel the heat of the sun against warm flesh.
Astarion’s heart swelled, lips parted as he struggled to react and while he still couldn’t quite express his gratitude and affections out loud, he knew he could show you them through his actions and it would always mean just as much. He may have thought the plan ridiculous, silly even, but it was your attempt that moved him. The way you never gave up on him. Now here you two are, you out in the sun as he lurks in the depths of the shadows. Astarion’s lips part as he watches you bask in the sunlight's rays, your eyes closed and a soft smile on your face.
Whilst always beautiful, Astarion remains even more assured that you are most beautiful in the sun. His feelings toward you both similar in the weight you hold in his heart. His eyes trial over your form, looking on as the sunlight highlights your complexion, the sun shimmering across your skin. The way it flickers off of you, making you appear even more brighter and full of life. Astarion watches it all, his attentions never having been more focused. He couldn’t dare look away from you and miss a moment of this.
You were so close and yet so far and as Astarion looked upon your beauty, memories from before starts flooding through his mind of him out there with you. Astarion couldn’t help but step forward, reaching out to you. He didn’t think, too caught up in how much he wanted you near. Not because of the sun but simply because you were you.
As his hand falls into a faint sliver of sun, instead of the comforting warmth he has shamefully become accustomed to, the familiar burning radiates across his skin. The sound of his skin sizzling rang in the quiet air and instead of peace the sun now brings panic, causing Astarion to release a high-pitched hiss. You jump, opening your eyes and looking over at him as Astarion quickly draws his hand back. You take a step to him but he uses that same hand to motion for you to stop.
“No! Don’t come closer. Just stay out there… for a little while longer,” Astarion pleads, brows furrowing deeply. It wasn’t until this moment, this instant where he’s reminded of the pain the sun has the power to inflict upon him, that he thinks your once silly idea may actually be important.
“Astarion-“ You try, tilting your head, eyes on his crackling hand that already starts to heal itself. But it’s one shake from his head that has you quieting. The softness in his gaze that has you stopping from stepping into his darkness. You look over him before giving a tentative nod. Your body turns back toward the sun within the space of the open door, but your eyes occasionally flicker over to him.
His fingers press into the flesh as it returns to its original smooth texture, the only trace of it being the faint throbbing that was already starting to fade too. As Astarion stares at you as you stand in the one place he could not reach you, despair flowers in his chest like a plague. You two are so different. While dealing with the parasite, while able to walk into the sun, Astarion could simply ignore it, not think about it because there were so many other important things to think about. Could push their differences aside in order to use you, then eventually love you.
But all that was gone now. You could walk in the day while he was stuck in the shadows. Even while only inches away, to Asatrion, it was like he could see an invisible barrier set between you both. A force that stops him from being with you, touching you. Something he could never cross so long as he was like this— a vampire spawn.
He was not good for you, he knew. All this time, Astarion allowed himself to be greedy, convinced himself that you need him as much as he needs you. But his love was doing exactly what the dark was doing to him. Trapping you. He was sure that if your heart wasn’t so big, you’d be out in the sun more often. Like you deserved.
Then you did the most peculiar thing. In a flash, you were closing the door, objecting yourself to the dark, and you reach for him. One hand wrapping around his waist as the other grips the nape of his neck. Both use their strength to pull him into you. Before Astarion can process what’s happening, you’re hugging him.
Warmth radiates off your skin and spreads over his. You guide Astarion’s head into your neck, letting him feel all the heat the sun left on you. Now, after this time being with him, Astarion doesn’t hesitate to hug you back. His arms wrap around you firmly as he exhales a shaky breath.
“I could feel you thinking from all the way over there,” your smooth voice washes over him, making warmth spread within him as well as across his body. He burrows closer to you, soaking up everything your skin was offering. He could imagine the fierce sun and how it must have felt upon first contact. But somehow, when it was you providing it instead of the sun, it was better. So much better.
He finally had you in his arms and the fog that moments prior were tormenting him now clear away. As you imply, he was thinking too much. He was spiraling and second guessing himself and even worse, you. He knows that you would never truly do something you didn’t want. You wouldn’t be with him unless it’s what you wanted. He didn’t have the power to trap you and he would never want it. While he can’t deny your differences, he also can’t say they’re a bad thing. He likes that you’re not the same person. Although, Astarion would dare say he’d make a lovely suitor for himself if the chance arose.
“What ever are you talking about, darling?” Releasing a light-hearted chuckle along with the question. Astarion’s hand brushes along your neck as well, the skin feeling even warmer here. Everything in him tells him to hide his feelings, to brush them aside and offer a short quip. While he knows he’ll end up telling you everything later, right now he can’t help but evade the vulnerability that was controlling him.
“Oh, I must be seeing things, then,” you tease right back, understanding Astarion and playing along with it. Astarion closes his eyes, gratefulness filling his body and pouring out in his physical contact with you.
“Hmm, must get that checked out,” he shoots back, not able to stop the words from slipping out of his mouth. You both end up laughing together and the peace that spreads through the atmosphere around you two reminds him why he never ends up keeping anything from you anymore. He learned his lesson once before.
The two of you fall into a peaceful silence as you remain hugging in the darkness. Your skin quickly grows colder again, losing what your time in the sun left you with. Even so, neither of you step away from the hug.
“You know, out of all the ways you’ve attempted to give me back sunlight, I have to say, this is by far my favorite,” Astarion admits, moving to rest his forehead against yours. The warmth he feels with you blazes hotter than any sun could ever supply him. He hears as your heart picks up and your neck once again becomes warmer than the rest of your body. Astarion does not hold back his grin, informing you of his awareness, yet remains still as he enjoys what he can get.
Astarion keeps you close as he realizes that any lack of sun is worth it when he gets moments like this in return.
#bg3 astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion#bg3#astarion x reader#astarion x you#astarion x y/n#astarion ancunin x reader#astarion ancunin x tav#astarion ancunin x you#astarion fanfic#astarion bg3 x reader#astarion bg3#astarion bg3 x you#astarion bg3 x y/n#astarion x tav#astarion x mc#astarion x female reader#astarion x gn reader#astarion x gn!tav#astarion x male tav#astarion x male reader#astarion fluff#astarion angst#astarion and tav#astarion one shot#astarion drabble#astarion imagine#astarion romance#astarion fic
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— “it’ll be our little secret, professor”
☀︎ - pairing: eris vanserra x reader
☀︎ - summary: you hook up with this delicious older man for one fun night to forget your scummy ex, what do you do when the same man turns out to be your new professor?
☀︎ - warnings: smut, oral (m.receiving), hint of degradation, taboo relationships, student x professor, both are obviously old enough, i just want him so bad GOD
☀︎ - amara’s note: this is going to be a series where i’ll post text threads with prof eris, headcanons, just different things. I’m planning this series to be about 10 chapters, but I literally have no structure, I just write. also i hope you like this as much as I do. and if you see any mistakes, no you don’t
In the corner of the club, everything felt a bit fuzzy. The air was thick with a mix of excitement and different scents. Dim lights created a soft atmosphere, and the distant sounds of the crowd and music blended together. It was like time slowed down, and you were in your own world, just soaking in the low-key vibe of the club corner.
The earlier shots hit you, and now you're in a blissful, relaxed state. All you could focus on were the hands exploring your body, lips locking with yours, and captivating scent surrounding you.
In the heat of the night, you ended up kissing a stranger without a second thought. The risk of being alone with someone unfamiliar did register – you just didn't care. Discovering your boyfriend's cheating after a difficult three-year relationship, marked by numerous breakups and makeups, left you feeling free from a toxic situation.
Now, free from those shackles, you embraced the chance to breathe and have some carefree fun. You had gone out with your friends, planning to originally get black out drunk but you suppose there’s better ways to cope.
Coming up with the idea of harmless fun, you and Elain came up with new identities for everyone to play out. Providing a random name, you spun a fat lie of being an up-and-coming writer, in the middle of writing your latest novel. Falsely claiming to be older, you described a beautiful house situated on the outskirts of Prythian that you owned. It was all part of a lighthearted game, with no harm intended since you believed you'd never cross paths with the guy again. It was ridiculously easy to bag the man since he didn’t tell you anything about himself, only nodding when you talked about yourself.
The attractive stranger had dark copper hair, captivating amber eyes, and stood several inches taller than you. His eyes glistened in mirth mixed with hunger. His muscular build caught your attention, and you found yourself grabbing onto his strong arms.
If his looks didn't captivate you, his mouth certainly did. His wicked tongue unleashed clever comebacks and tantalizing dirty talk that sent shivers down your spine.
The best part? He was older, more mature, more confident and much more good-looking – just so much more than your ex. Comparisons might be wrong, but if you had to choose, the man in front of you was a no-brainer.
Because he wasn't some guy; he was a man who acted like a man, who spoke like a man and touched you like a real fucking man.
The man had been touching and kissing you for what felt like an eternity. You greedily wanted more from him. You didn't want to regret not taking the chance, and almost as if he could sense it, he invited you back to his place.
You nodded, excusing yourself to let your friends know about leaving. Approaching them, you shared your decision to go with him, and Gwyn, Nesta, Em and Elain cheered you on. However, Feyre, always the protective friend, expressed her concern.
“Go get some, but I swear I’ll hunt him down if anything happens, got it? And have your location on.”
Her words, while somewhat playful, held a genuine undertone of worry.
You nodded and promised her you’d be safe before hurriedly made your way outside to the handsome man.
“Still want to come with me, sweet thing?” he asked curiously, making sure it was still something you wanted.
“Mm, yeah, still wanna go. Unless you've changed your mind?” Stepping forward, you grabbed the man's tie, pulling it gently as you looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. A playful glint clouded your gaze as you cocked your head to the side, oozing confidence.
He smirked down at you with a wicked glint, clearly showing his mind was nowhere near changed. The man stepped forward, rubbing his clothed cock against your dress, making you feel his hard on through his pants
“Does it feel like I’ve changed my mind?”
The chemistry you had was unmatched, he was so clever and witty and you wanted to know more about him as he led you to his car, a sleek, black one, indicating money.
You’d blame your forwardness on the alcohol tomorrow when you remembered how you just blurted out the question.
“Hey, you rich or something?” you giggled.
The man opened up the backseat door for you and through the side of his eye gave you an amused smirk.
“Or something.” he teased.
You rolled your eyes, grinning, as you hopped into the backseat, enjoying the warmth of his hands securing your seatbelt and closing the door.
But hold on, the backseat?
Weren't you supposed to sit upfront with him? Before you could ask, he opened the other backseat door and slid in beside you.
Maintaining eye contact, he grinned at your confusion and said, “Alden, please take us home.” A faint "yes sir" was heard, and the car started moving. Shocked, you realized he had a driver – clearly, he was quite wealthy.
You scanned the spacious car, realizing there was more than enough room for the fun activities on your mind. With a screen separating you from the driver, you unbuckled your seatbelt and moved closer, straddling his lap.
His hands instinctively found your hips, guiding your movements over him. Lips on your neck, he left dark marks as your hands ventured lower, reaching his cock, which elicited a groan from him. Your eyes widened as you felt the size of him. The man simply flashed you a subtle smile and raised his eyebrows.
You unbuckled his belt, maintaining eye contact as you carefully watched his face show pleasure as you put your hand down his pants and stroked him. You gave him a few lazy strokes, eventually shuffling off his lap and kneeling infront of him, ready to put your mouth to use.
Time became irrelevant and all that was heard were the sinful, obscene noises mixed with his hisses of pleasure as you sloppily bobbed your head up and down, swirling your tounge around the head, running your finger over the slit.
“Fuck yeah, that’s it. Could use this slutty little mouth forever.” he rasped, hips bucking as his hands went to your hair, slightly pulling on it as you let out a muffled whimper.
Pre cum and spit dripped down your chin, slowly making it’s way to your chest and floor as you pushed your head down further and further, feeling satisfied at his sounds of pleasure.
Once, twice, you grip on the shaft and slap the tip on your tongue before sucking on the sensitive head.
With a quick twitch of his cock, he cums, experiencing euphoria in his buzzed state. He gasps and moans pitifully as his lips twitch between his teeth and his hips buck into your mouth against his better judgement. You pump your hand at the base of his cock where you are unable to fit, swallowing as much of the hot, sticky ropes that coat your mouth as you can. As he pours into you, the walls of your pussy clench around nothing, so badly wishing your were sitting on the cock that was currently on your tongue.
His cum was everywhere - your hair, your face, your tits. He slumped against the seat and moved his eyes down back to you, catching you licking of the sticky residue of your fingers.
Before either of you have a chance to say something, the car slows down to a halt signaling that you’re probably at his place. He tucks himself into his pants and doesn’t buckle them before he opens the door and grabs you, throwing you over his shoulder as you laugh. Your mind forgets about the fact that you’re covered in his cum and just blanks when you take a look at his so called house, a mansion or a fucking estate is more like it.
The lengthy driveway opened up to a stunning front yard adorned with red and orange-leaved trees, an unusual scene for the end of summer. A well-lit, ornate fountain with three tiers stood proudly infront of the house, enhancing the beauty of the surroundings. The massive Victorian mansion, with its beautiful windows and overgrown vines stunned you.
He set you down and held your hand as he led you into his room, and it overmet your expectations. Instead of a dark, edgy space, it was spacious with earthy tones and bathed in soft ambient lighting. The room exuded comfort, making you wish to stay longer. His bed, adorned with a large fluffy comforter and a million pillows, looked inviting.
Various trinkets and figurines adorned the room, but what captured your attention was a massive bookcase showcasing your favorite books. Intrigued, you dropped his hand and made your way over. Your eyes widened at seeing a book from your wishlist, yet to be released. Confused, you asked how he had it, and he explained that Sellyn Drake was an old family friend and had gifted it to him.
You decided to tease him about the book, saying, “You know, I've heard great many things about this book. How about you tell me what it's about? I heard it had some... exciting scenes.”
His eyes met yours, and with a subtle smile, he stepped closer and closer, “How about I show you instead?” The air seemed to thicken with a hint of tension, leaving you curious and captivated by the possibilities that lingered in his suggestion.
——
Your legs trembled as you hastily stood up, determined to make your exit. Having been fucked stupid all night, dawn was approaching, and the new semester was starting tomorrow, leaving you with a load of preparations. You located your dress, bag, and heels, putting the clothes on carefully. Quietly, you ordered a cab to avoid startling the man still asleep. Before leaving, your eyes lingered on his bookshelf. Tiptoeing closer, you took the book you'd eyed the night before and read the teaser on the back. Glancing between him and the book, grabbed it, and silently left his room and house.
——
Feyre, Elain, Nesta, Gwyn and Em, your friends and roomates, practically pulled you across campus to grab your schedule and check out the new students filling the cafeteria. The buzz of excited chatter and the aroma of coffee and sweet pastries filled the air as you scanned the room. After a few moments, you parted ways, each heading to your respective classrooms, the anticipation of a new semester buzzing in the atmosphere.
You wandered through the literature building, searching for classroom LE4, the place where Advanced Literature with Professor Beron awaited. Memories of your first year with him being an absolute ass lingered, so you hoped he'd calmed down over the summer, giving everyone a fucking break.
You finally entered the huge lecture hall and climbed the stairs, opting for a seat at the back, hoping to fly under the radar in case Professor Beron was in a bad mood.
A few rows down, you spotted your ex, Ilias, with a new girl on his lap. His sleazy smile and wandering hands were more icky than anything ever. Reflecting on why you ever went back to him so many times, you turned around, focused on bringing out your notebook and computer from your bag. As the doors opened, the click-clack of quality shoes echoed through the hall, accompanied by girly giggles and voices creating a murmur in the background.
A jolt of surprise froze you, and your heart seemed to pause for a moment as his voice unexpectedly filled the room. All your previous movement ceased, and a sudden hush fell over the surroundings, creating an atmosphere charged with unexpected tension. The shock of hearing someone you hoped thought to see again made time momentarily stand still.
“Hello. I'm Professor Eris, and I'll be taking over this class. My father used to teach it but has passed away, so I'll be filling his shoes. I anticipate a productive year together. If you doubt your ability to keep up with the rapid pace of this advanced class, I suggest you leave now and spare yourself, as well as me, the trouble.”
Panicking, your eyes scanned the room for any possible escape route. There was just no fucking way you could be in this class when your professor had fucked you against his bookshelf, or when you had his dick shoved down your throat. Sinking in your seat, you desperately opened your computer, using it as a shield, praying he wouldn't notice you. The need to escape intensified, but the fear of drawing attention kept you frozen in your seat.
As dread crept in, he pulled out an attendance list. The sinking feeling deepened as he insisted everyone state why they chose the course. Hiding behind your computer, you debated revealing your presence or attempting to stay under the radar.
"Ilias Smith?"
"Emma Wilson?"
"Jess Lennox?"
"Amanda Gomez?"
Each one confidently declared "here" and delved into passionate remarks about Hemingway, Austen, Kerouac, all the authors that made them choose this course or whatever. Your hands started sweating as Professor Eris called your name. When you hesitated, he repeated it louder, his gaze scanning until it locked onto you.
Anticipating an intense reaction, all you saw was a slight narrowing of his eyes.
“Well? Are you here, Y/N L/N?”
You mumbled a faint "yeah," and when he asked why you were there, your words fumbled, “Uh, I suppose because I like books. A huge fan. Yes.”
Your classmates chuckled at your less-than-impressive answers, and you sunk back into your chair, just observing for the rest of the lecture. A few rows ahead, a group of girls giggled, thinking they were discreet as they whispered about Professor Eris. Their discussions about their fantasies sparked a tiny irritation within you.
Like who the hell gossips about someone, so crudely in broad daylight and during a lecture, especially when it's about a professor? It wasn't jealousy, no, no definitely not.
You just found it… super unsettling.
——
After two suffocating hours, you hastily packed your bag, eager to escape. But just as you were about to disappear, your name echoed in the room.
“Miss L/N, do you mind staying behind? There seems to be a problem with your email,” Professor Eris announced, leaning against his desk with his massive arms crossed. He bid the remaining students goodbye and waited until they all left before locking the doors.
The moment those doors clicked shut, the atmosphere in the room shifted dramatically. The tension became so thick you could practically cut it with a knife.
He turned back around and approached you, merely a few inches away, face a mix of amusement and curiosity.
“Hello there, little liar. I certainly didn’t expect to see you here.”
Your cheeks heated and nervousness filled you at the memory of the depraved moments you'd shared, causing your gaze to involuntarily drop to his chest and wander downward, reliving those sensations.
However any nervousness vanished as you remembered that he was the one who came to your university. If anyone should’ve been surprised it should’ve been you. A mischievous smile played on your lips as you toyed with the idea of making his year more challenging. Testing how good of a man he really was became a tempting game.
After all, a man like him wouldn't indulge a student, right?
This could turn into a fun little project to spice up an otherwise dull year.
Lifting your chin up, you looked him square in the eyes as your lips twitched in anticipation.
“I could say the same, Professor Eris. You definitely don’t seem like the lecturer type.”
His eyes narrowed at you, jaw clenching as his intense gaze bore into yours. The intensity made you shift a little, almost causing you to lose some of your confidence.
“Do you think you're funny? I believe you understand the situation here. You lied and now you're here of all places. As my student. Well, this is an unexpected twist. One of us will have to quit and report this,” he stated, injecting a hint of playfulness into his serious tone.
Wait, quit? No, you really didn't want him to leave. This could turn into such a nice little distraction, and there was no way you were losing it now. The thought of him leaving added a layer of urgency to the situation, making you quickly reassess the potential consequences.
“Come on, professor. It doesn't have to be like this. I won't tell anyone. And who says we have to stay away from each other? I mean, what the dean doesn't know won't hurt him, right?” you suggested, a sly smile playing on your lips as you flirted with the idea of bending the rules.
Eris looked you up and down before throwing his head back and letting out a hearty laugh. Your brows furrowed as you twisted your lips, wondering if he was laughing at you. Was he not taking you seriously? Despite the uncertainty, the desire to keep playing this game with him intensified.
Eris seemed to notice your mood turning sour and promptly clamped his lips shut.
“I promise, sweet thing, I'm not laughing at you. I’m just amazed at your boldness.” he assured you with a more serious tone, attempting to dispel any misunderstanding.
“Promise?”
He stepped forward, “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
You both knew that under no circumstances should you be doing this. If anyone caught you, there would be hell to pay. Expulsion and blacklisting from any other Ivy League universities for you, and definitely prison or some sort of pesky law thingy for him.
Yet the mere thought of engaging in something so wrong and secretive made your stomach flip, a mix of thrill and anxiety churning within you.
Looking up through your lashes, you blushed, a deep crimson hue spreading across your cheeks as you once again grabbed his tie and pulled him closer.
“I promise I won't tell anyone, professor. It'll be our little secret,”you whispered, the words laden with a taboo excitement that sent a shiver down your spine.
A wicked gleam flashed in Eris's eyes, and a subtle smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.
“Well then, miss L/N,”he whispered, his voice low and conspiratorial. “Let's see just how well we can keep our little secret.”
#talkswithamara#acotar#acotar x reader#a court of thorns and roses#acotar imagine#eris#professor eris#i need eris so bad rn y’all i’m not joking#eris acosf#eris vanserra acotar#eris vanserra x reader#eris vanserra#eris acotar#eris x reader#professor eris vanserra#student x professor#professor x reader#tabooromance#nesta archeron#feyre cursebreaker#feyre archeron#elain archeron#emerie#gwyneth berdara#feyre archeron x reader#nesta x reader#elain x reader#azriel x reader#rhys x reader#cassian x reader
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Spencer Reid x she/her!reader
A/N: why is it so difficult to find high quality post-prison reid fbi vest gifs like I thought we were all sluts out here but Ig not
gif creds: @imagining-in-the-margins
Duality Of Man
Spencer Reid had never really considered himself to be a reckless man. He had always been a calculated, well thought out, methodical follower of the rules, for fear of being ridiculed further for breaking societal rules beyond the ones he couldn’t help via his neurodivergence. He enjoyed rules. Learning the rules of people, of their behavior, and of various board games that challenged his intellect, were some of his favorite pastimes, actually.
Spencer also would not have regarded himself as a particularly possessive or territorial person, prior to spending three months behind bars. They isolated him, kept him locked in a space with people that wanted him dead, like an animal raised in captivity being thrown into a cage of wild lions. Having nothing of his own changed the way in which Spencer viewed the world around him, once he was allowed to step back into it.
Yours had been the first face he had seen when he had set foot beyond the prison walls on the day of his release, and the moment he felt you return to his embrace, in a gesture the two of you had engaged in countless times, a form of physical contact that he was most comfortable sharing with you; Spencer felt that something was different. In a way that he didn’t quite understand, you were his, beyond the platonic confines he had previously forced over his own feelings for you. He was not overbearing and had never overstepped your boundaries, but he was more outwardly protective of you than anyone else.
It had only presented itself in small gestures and words: moving to stand slightly in front of you in any kind of tense situation to act as your human shield, checking in with you at every stage of the cases you worked together, prioritizing your safety over his, and, naturally being the first one to object when you volunteered to go undercover to seduce an unsub into revealing information.
“Absolutely not.” Spencer had uttered from where he sat beside you at the round table, shaking his head.
And you had rolled your eyes at him. “I’ll be fine, Spence, I can handle myself.”
He couldn’t argue with that, he had seen you stare down men twice your size on several occasions, which always made him smirk. Still, Spencer could not hide the sick feeling that twisted in his gut at the thought of you going undercover, and being in danger.
As he had often found, the feeling in Spencer’s gut had been right. The unsub had been clever enough to deduce that you were a deliberate victim, not one of happenstance, and as such, he took you to a second location, which he had not done with his previous victims.
Given it was not his usual mode of operation and he had acted on instinct, the unsub’s play was an amateur move; comparable to what Spencer was certain Gideon thought in their first chess games together, so many years prior. As clever as the ubsub had been in figuring out you were not who you said you were, he was not intelligent enough to outsmart the one man army of Doctor Spencer Reid when fuelled by a fire that he had never felt burning in him before. It took less than a day for the team of profilers to find the warehouse you were being kept in, and less than a minute for Spencer to completely disregard their carefully orchestrated plan to rescue an FBI agent with the regulated SWAT team.
He didn’t need a team behind him for this.
He would handle this bastard himself.
With a kick that Spencer was sure Derek Morgan would be proud of, the door to the warehouse was made obsolete. Gun and torch raised, Spencer stalked the dark warehouse, checking dusty room after dusty room, eagle eyes scanning every corner, until a figure dared step out of the shadows in front of him. Anyone foolish enough to make themselves a physical blockade that kept Spencer from getting to you was a waste of oxygen.
“So, you’re the one she’s convinced is coming to save her.” The unsub taunted, chuckling darkly as he raised his arms out to his side cockily. “C’mon then, show me what you’ve got. No weapons, just you and me, man to man.”
As if to prove the authenticity of his own words, he discarded his usual weapon of choice, the blade clattering against the warehouse floor.
Spencer eyed him like a wild lion in a cage, and he almost smirked at the irony, but kept his expression calm and collected. He glanced at the doorway of the dark room they stood in, knowing that protocols would advise him to call for assistance, to make the arrest with as little physical harm as possible. But when Spencer’s eyes gravitated back to the subject who was now very much known to him, his target was in his sights.
An icy glare stayed fixed on the man that took you as the sound of a torch and gun hitting the ground echoed through the otherwise empty room. The air was thick as Spencer unclipped his FBI bulletproof vest and tossed that to the ground, too. And with no sense of urgency, he popped the cufflinks of his shirt and rolled his long sleeves up to his elbows.
An invitation to beat the life out of someone that took you? Hurt you? It must be Christmas.
Spencer’s expression was unmoving, and he didn’t say a word. Finally, after a childhood spent as a victim of merciless bullying and a portion of his adulthood fearing the judgment and cruelty of others, Spencer Reid was confident in his ability to end a physical confrontation with his own two fists.
In three large strides, he was face to face with the egotist, who swung at him, pathetically, and predictably enough for Spencer to not only swerve out of the way, but reciprocate the gesture tenfold. A solid right hook spun the idiot’s jaw and sent him stumbling, but Spencer was far from finished. He stalked over to him and in a matter of steps, had grabbed his target by his shirt collar and forced him against the wall. The fool was still reeling from Spencer’s punch, a dazed look in his eyes and blood dripping from his split lip.
“Did you touch her?”
Spencer’s words were eerily quiet, barely above a whisper, but in the silence of the warehouse they reverberated against every wall. He had a feeling that he already knew the answer, but he needed to hear it, he had to be sure his next actions would be justified.
His vision clearing, the man fool enough to take you smirked up at Spencer.
“(Y/N) looks real pretty when she cries, doesn’t she?”
He chose to answer Spencer’s question with a rhetorical question that immediately decided his fate.
In a fraction of a second, Spencer threw his target to the ground and pounced on him, vision clouded with red as he landed punch after punch, until the ground looked just as red to everybody else. If three months in prison had taught Spencer Reid anything, it wasn’t just how to fight, it was how to fight dirty.
He only stopped when the physical barrier sputtered for breath, and that was only because Spencer didn’t want to get thrown back into a cell. Catching his breath, Spencer lifted his gaze and scanned the room around him again.
“Spencer?!”
And he was stood, his rage an afterthought as he followed the weak sound of your voice, your call to him. In a sea of voices, Spencer could pinpoint yours in an instant. Having heard commotion, you had assumed it was him, coming to your rescue, like you always knew he would.
He found you in the next room, bruised and bloody, tied to a chair and covered in torn clothes with cuts beneath them that reassured Spencer the blood dripping from his knuckles was beyond worth it.
The look in his eyes was so soft as he ran to you and crouched in front of you, kissing your forehead as he tore the ropes from you with no regard for the burns he may get on his already bloody hands.
Finally free, you collapsed into Spencer’s arms, and he released the breath he’d been holding since you’d been taken, closing his eyes as he held you tightly against him, standing up and helping you to your feet in turn. The weight of the trauma you carried made your legs shake beneath you, but Spencer was there to hold you steady, he would always be there. He held your face in his hands and gave you the softest smile you’d ever seen, his thumbs ever so gently caressing your cheeks.
It took you a second to come to terms with your surroundings and your rescue, but as soon as you had, your eyes widened and you took Spencer’s hands in yours.
“You’re hurt.” You murmured, tears shining in your eyes as you held his bloody knuckles with such tenderness, he was surprised he could feel it after the aggression his hands had just been subjected to, but he would always be able to feel you.
Spencer almost chuckled in disbelief as you - in your beaten, bloody and traumatized state - became upset over a little blood on his hands. Well, maybe it was more than a little…
“Adrenaline, (Y/N), I can’t feel a thing.” Spencer reassured you in a soft voice, holding your face in his hands again and placing the lightest kiss on your nose. “But we need to get you to a doctor.”
The moment he said it, the rest of the team filtered into the room, having passed the sputtering suspect and Spencer’s discarded bulletproof vest on their way.
The look on Emily’s face told Spencer he would have several unpleasant reports to fill out regarding how he’d handled this case, but when he stared into your eyes and saw the stars in them, he knew he’d do it all again a hundred times if you were waiting on the other side for him.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#x reader#imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds x reader#imagines#fanfic#fanfiction#headcannon#headcannons
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ski season | harry lewis
summary : ig feed of harry and y/n’s annual ski trip ft a cute surprise
face claim : dua lipa
a/n: feel free to request any insta au’s or fics, i'm excited to write some more stuff!!!
other stuff by me linked here : masterlist
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y/n_username posted a photo!
liked by ksi and 342,053 others
y/n_username harry and i 🫱🏻🫲🏼 fluorescent outfits
tagged: wroetoshaw
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tobjizzle fits go crazy
↳ y/n_username we look crazy more like
behzingagram cold fits from you two
↳ y/n_username literally
faithlouiseak so cute
w2sfan20 omg their annual ski trip so cute :))
vikkstagram try not to stack it on a ski jump and break your collarbone like i did
↳ y/n_username ouch don’t remind me 😭😭😭
↳ sidemenfan21 6 years later and he’s still traumatised
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wroetoshaw posted a photo!
liked by calfreezy and 729,047 others!
wroetoshaw Snow
tagged: y/n_username
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calfreezy bet you feel right at home
y/n_username why have you tagged me i’m not even in this
↳ wroetoshaw thought i’d give you some free promo #AD
wroetoynfan first harry post in years and this is what we get
theburntchip hot
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y/n_username posted an instragram story!
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y/n posted a photo!
liked by vikkstagram and 398,349 others
y/n_username having snow much fun ❄️
...
vikkstagram punny caption
↳ y/n_username felt so clever when i thought of it
calfreezy cringe caption
↳ y/n_username hater
taliamar obsessed with your outfit omg
↳ y/n_username i’m obsessed with you omg
wroetoshaw must of had a good photographer
↳ y/n_username fully only 2 good ones out of the 100 you took
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y/n posted a photo!
liked by wroetoshaw and 342,982 others!
y/n_username last day of our trip :(
tagged: wroetoshaw
...
freyanightingale snowboard queen
wroetoshaw good looking fella in the last picture
calfreezy bet bog was scared of the ski lift
↳ y/n_username poor boy can't do heights 😂😂
chrismd10 always some sort of alcohol around you two
faithlouiseak yay come home i miss you 😭
↳ y/n_username its been a 1 week but i miss you too
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Harry and Y/N were on their annual winter skiing trip in Geneva - a tradition they had taken up about 3 years into their relationship. They had reached the last day of the trip and decided to go out to a local bar and drown their sorrows - the pair not wanting the trip to end. After getting a few rounds between them they decided to call it a night, with their early flight and lack of packing done, they knew they probably should have ended the night a long time ago.
As they walked out of the bar, snowflakes fell softly from the sky and all the rooftops around them were dusted with a shimmering blanket of white, Harry and Y/N found themselves caught in a playful dance amidst the winter wonderland - the cold had knocked them back and they felt a lot more drunk than they thought they were.
Hand in hand, they ventured out into the cold air, their cheeks flushed red (Harry blamed the 2 bottles of wine they had shared). With each step, they left behind a trail of footprints in the snow, their laughter mingling with the soft crunch of their boots against the frozen ground.
Their destination? A secluded clearing nestled deep within the town—a secret spot they had discovered during their first winter together, a place where the world seemed to stand still and time lost all meaning.
As they arrived at their snowy sanctuary, Harry and Y/N wasted no time in diving headfirst into their wintry adventure. They built snow angels side by side, their bodies creating patterns in the pristine snow as they flapped their arms and legs, laughing at the mess they were creating.
Next came the snowman—a creation that looked a bit insane due to its lack of carrot nose (none of the shops around them were opened) or buttons for eyes (harry protested against the buttons) but nonetheless the snowman was standing proudly in the center of the snow as a testament to their love and creativity. With gloved hands and rosy cheeks, they worked together to shape and mold the perfect snowman, their laughter echoing through the quiet town as they occasionally through handfuls of snow at one another.
Yet amidst the flurry of snow and laughter, there was something else stirring in Harry's heart—a feeling so profound and overwhelming that he couldn't keep it inside any longer. Something that he'd been thinking about for months...years even.
With a nervous flutter in his chest, he turned to Y/N , his blue eyes shining with love and affection. And in that moment, surrounded by the beauty of the winter landscape and the warmth of their shared laughter, struggling through the snow to get down on one knee, he spoke the words he had been longing to say.
"Y/N, will you marry me?," he whispered, his voice barely above a hush and slightly hoarse from all the singing they’d done in the bar but still managing to carry with it all the depth and sincerity of his feelings.
Tears welled in Y/N's eyes as she gasped in astonishment, her hand flying to her mouth in disbelief. Her heart swelled with overwhelming joy, and her stomach felt sick (a mix of shock and booze) and it was as though she might burst with happiness.
It had felt like hours had gone by as the two faced one another, Harry shaking on one knee and Y/N stood in shock.
With a trembling voice, Harry broke the silence rambling in his drunken state, “You know it's okay if you say no, but I'd love it if you said yes - it's just sort of freezing down here and I’m scared if I stay like this any longer I’ll have turned to ice.'' Y/N could barely choke a laugh at his attempt of a joke but his panic shook her slightly and she realized she hadn’t replied to him yet.
Unable to contain her emotions any longer, she threw her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace as tears of joy streamed down her cheeks. "Yes! Yes, a thousand times yes!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with pure elation. A sigh of relief passed Harry's lips.
And as they stood there, wrapped in each other's embrace, surrounded by the beauty of the winter landscape, Harry and Y/N knew that their love was as enduring and timeless as the snow that blanketed the earth—a love that would warm their hearts even on the coldest of days, and carry them through all the seasons yet to come.
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y/n posted a photo!
liked by ksi & 560,203 others!
y/n_username there's snow way we're officially engaged!!!
tagged: wroetoshaw
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calfreezy SHUT UP WHAT
ksi Congratulations! ❤️
faithlouiseak i'm crying i can't 😭😭😭
taliamar omfg facetime me right now
theburntchip go on bog finally
behzingagram shit i need to get my best mans speech prepared
wroetoshaw ❤️
vikkstagram Congrats you two!
r0sielewis finally going to be my sister in law omg
w2sfan2 omg nearly all the boys are engaged now i feel so old
zerkaa congrats bro, it only took us both 10 years plus 🥵
sidemanxixfan the caption hahaha they're meant to be
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hollytoshaw : thanks for reading!!! hope you all enjoyed my second instagram au!!! let me know what you guys think and if there’s anything i should change about these. really enjoying making them!
#w2s#wroetoshaw#w2s x reader#harry wroetoshaw#harry lewis#harry w2s#sidemen#w2s fic#w2s imagine#wroetoshaw imagine#wroetoshaw oneshot#hollytoshaw#chris md#arthurtv#sidemen x reader
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・゜゜・．mawey, oeyä yawne — ( neteyam )
summary: neteyam returns from his duties and is shocked to find out his young daughter has found her 'mate' [1.2k]
pairings: dad!neteyam x fem!omaticaya!reader
notes: "sorry im obsessed w the idea of baby daddy neteyam😭😭‼️what if,,, he meets his 9 yo daughter's first boyfriend" was the request. translations are at the end of the piece.
Ni'awtu was Neteyam's atan. His littlest love that Eywa had blessed him with. She was perfect and from the moment she was born, she filled Neteyam's heart with more love than he could have ever imagined.
Giving birth to Ni'awtu only made Neteyam fall more and more in love with you. You were strong, a warrior. Neteyam made tsaheylu with you during your labour period, he could only imagine the pain you were in through the small slither he was able to save you from. You were enchanting, his mate, mother of his child.
It seemed that time slipped away quicker than Neteyam ever thought possible. Ni'awtu was eight, she could no longer fit in the palm of his hand. She was strong and mighty, she would make an excellent Olo'ektan when the time was right, but she was still his baby.
"Oeyä txe’lan you need to stop running through the tent with mud!" You shouted, "Your father will not be happy". Ni'awtu ran through your home, filling the canopy with laughter and light, another pair of little feet padding along after her.
Ateyo had become Ni'awtu's closest friend over their years of knowing each other. He was a good boy, clever and funny. You enjoyed seeing the bond that they shared with each other so young. You often found yourself laughing alongside Ateyo's parents at the thought of them growing up together.
Neteyam had only been able to meet Ateyo a handful of times, his duties as Olo'ektan kept him busy. When he found time for his family, it was peaceful and quaint- just the three of you. It wasn't that Neteyam disliked Ateyo, Neteyam disliked any boys who went near his Ni'awtu. She was his baby, too young to belong to another man. 'You are a warrior, oeyä tsawke. No boy will ever change that, so do not let them' he would tell her.
Ni'awtu and Ateyo quickly stumbled over small apologies before running back outside of the tent, their laughter was contagious. You couldn't help yourself but smile.
Eclipse was coming soon, you knew that Neteyam would be home to help you cook dinner for your small family. You tried your best to brush the mud outside that sat on your floor. Neteyam pulled back the curtain of your home, letting himself back into his safe space, ready to finish his day with his two favourite people.
"Mmh," Neteyam snaked his arms around your waist, holding you close to his chest. You felt his heart beat against your back. His tail playfully wrapped itself around your leg. "I missed you, yawne" He almost purred in your ear, his chest softly vibrating at the comfort you radiated.
"I missed you too," You turned your head to the side, so Neteyam could kiss your cheek. "You will need to go roundup the children for dinner, I will start cooking soon,"
"Children?" You felt Neteyam's tail loosen its grip in confusion.
"Yes," You chuckled, "Children, we have Ateyo joining us for dinner tonight,"
You felt Neteyam tense in your embrace. "Ateyo? As in Ateyo te Nafyu Ratsay'itan"
"Don't go all serious on me and use his full name, you know who he is, 'Teyam" You rolled your eyes, lightly pulling yourself from his embrace.
"She is too young to be hanging around boys," Neteyam followed you with fire in his step. "Boys are bad influences at this age," He argued, "I should know,"
"You weren't" You turned around to face him with a pointed look.
"Yes but-" He huffed, trying to find the words, "Argh!" He hissed, turning away quickly. "I don't like him, yawne" Neteyam shook his head.
"He's a child, Neteyam!" You tried to find it in yourself to not laugh, but you couldn't help it. "Ni'awtu is allowed to have friends,"
"She has many friends! So why does she need him?" He began to raise his voice in panic. You chuckled at his reaction.
"You are threatened by a child," You rested a hand on his chest, feeling it puffing underneath your touch, "Don't be a baby,"
"I am not a baby," He turned away quickly, a scowl on his face. You heard Neteyam mumble, "I am a mighty warrior".
"Yes, yes you are" You reminded him, "So start acting like one,"
"Daddy!" Ni'awtu's voice broke Neteyam out of his anger, for she was the cure for all impurities in his world.
"Syulang," He crouched down, engulfing her in his warm embrace, "I missed you,"
"I missed you too," Ni'awtu smiled, you watched as Neteyam held her closely. Your eyes shifting to the shy boy slowly trailing behind Ni'awtu.
"Ateyo, how are you?" You smiled at the young boy, reminding Neteyam that you were in the presence of guests. Ateyo looked down, bringing his hand from his forehead downwards.
"Oel ngati kameie," He said softly. You looked to Neteyam with a wide grin on your face, "Thank you for welcoming me into your home for the night Tsahik and Olo'eyktan"
"You are welcome whenever," You told him with a smile. You watched Neteyam's hard exterior soften at the respect he was shown by the young boy. Neteyam was raised to treat people the best that he could, a small part of him saw his younger self in that moment. Maybe he could grow to tolerate Ateyo.
"Mama, today Ateyo asked to be my mate!" Ni'awtu beamed.
"WHAT?!"
..Or maybe he wouldn't.
"What do you mean he is your mate?" Neteyam pulled Ni'awtu away from Ateyo. "You are too young to even think about things like that, do you understand?" He lectured her.
"Ateyo, you do know that Ni'awtu is not your mate right?" You crouched down to his level, bringing his hand into yours. "You both are babies, you are not ready- or old enough to even be talking about that,"
"Well, my Mother said that your mate is someone you like spending all your time with," Ateyo sheepishly looked from you to your husband, nervous by the Olo'eyktan's reaction. You let go of a breath you didn't know you were holding in. Relief filled your chest at the little ones misinterpretation, "And I enjoy spending my time with Ni'awtu, if that is okay with you,"
"No!" Neteyam, hid Ni'awtu behind his legs, " No, it is not-"
"Mawey, oeyä yawne," You glared at Neteyam. "Ateyo, let me tell you something" You looked back at the child with a soft gaze, "A mate is a lot more than someone you enjoy spending time with," You smiled softly, "You will learn that one day, but you and Ni'awtu are not mates," Ateyo began to nod slowly, "But for now, you are great friends- that is what you are and that is what matters,"
"Okay," He smiled softly, shuffling his feet "I am sorry to have made you both upset,"
You let out a breathy laugh from your nose, "You have not upset us, Ateyo. You just didn't know what it meant to be mates, it was a mistake, but you have not upset us," You tried your best to reassure the younger boy, a warm smile on your face.
"Then why does daddy have those big lines on his forehead?" Ni'awtu held her dad's hand, looking up at him confused.
"He's getting old," You whispered with a smirk.
"Excuse me," Neteyam interjected, "I am leader of this clan," He picked Ni'awtu up and threw her over his shoulder, "And I will have respect!" He began to tickle her. Ni'awtu's laughter filled the tent once again, Ateyo's too.
Over the years, the two of them laughing together in your home would become a familiar sound- much to Neteyam's dismay.
© 2023 yawneneteyam
translations
(atan / light)
(oeyä txe’lan / my heart)
(oeyä tsawke / my sunshine)
(yawne / beloved)
(syulang / flower)
(oel ngati kameie / i see you)
(mawey, oeyä yawne / calm, my beloved)
#•°. 𖥸 celeste’s works#*࿐ neteyam#neteyam x reader#neteyam sully#neteyam x y/n#neteyam headcanons#avatar x reader#avatar 2#avatar 2022#avatar the way of water#avatar fanfiction
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freak on a leash - p.js
words: 1.32k // warnings: cussing, unprotected piv, "sir" kink, reader is referred to as "princess" "puppy" "whore" and "bitch", mean dom!jay, brat!reader, established relationship, mentioned enhypen members, this isn't a complete smut but basically the lead up?? beginning??
you and jay had been dating for a while now - almost two years, actually - and you could’ve sworn blind that you’d never seen him this angry. of course, you absolutely deserved it. spending the entire day riling him up, teasing him and flirting with his friends. god, you even went as far as to flash him your bare cunt at him from beneath your tiny fucking skirt the second you were left alone in heeseung’s living room for more than 5 seconds.
so yeah, you definitely deserved the anger radiating off of his body in waves right now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret what got you here in the slightest.
“you think you’re so funny, don’t you,” jay seethed from across the center console, knuckles turning white at his tight grip on the steering wheel. “so big and clever, just trying to wind me up like i won’t do anything about it.”
you shrugged, a smile teasing the corners of your lips as you watched your boyfriend try to contain his emotions behind the wheel. “yeah, i do, actually. i thought you would’ve gotten better at dealing with this by now… maybe i don’t test you enough, after all.”
he chuckled darkly, kissing his teeth with a raise of his eyebrows.
“know your limit, y/n. i mean it.”
the drive was silent after that; you, in the passenger seat, proud of your work, and in your own world entirely. jay, on the other hand, was almost pulsing with fury. had he not trained you well enough? surely you knew better than to act like some common whore, in front of his best friends of all people. in all honesty, he’d had more than enough of you walking all over him and thinking you’d get away with no consequences.
the second he had parked the car, you bounced out of your seat, skipping towards the apartment block - seemingly, without a care in the world - but jay knew full well that you were choosing your actions to infuriate him. always a gentleman at heart, he always insisted on opening doors for you and holding your hand when walking across streets or car parks. by taking that away from him, you were just trying to piss him off more. and god knew that he’d had enough of your bullshit.
as soon as the elevator doors had pressed closed, jay had you pinned to the wall by your neck, face so close to yours that his nose was brushing your cheek and his breath was fanning over you. your heart - and, admittedly, your pussy - throbbed at the action. you’d always loved how easily jay could manhandle you, and adding anger to the mix just heightened how good it felt.
“i swear to fucking god, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll listen to me, yeah?” he hissed, other hand coming to grip your hip so tightly that you winced. “when we get in, i’m going to go and get a drink. and when i come back into the bedroom, you better be face down on that mattress, ass up and hands behind your back.”
he released you when the elevator stopped at your floor, and you took the opportunity to get one last dig in at him.
“and if i don’t?”
he scoffed, leaving you trailing behind him as he walked towards your shared front door and pushed his way into the hallway. “if you don’t.. well, you better prepare to not be allowed anywhere near my cock for at least a week. nor will i touch you, and i know a stupid whore like you would lose their mind over that very quickly, huh?”
you were stunned. jay had joked about putting you on a sex ban a few times throughout your relationship, but only because you were insatiable - never as a punishment. surely, he wouldn’t? god… you didn’t think you wanted to find out if he was serious or not.
by the time you’d shaken yourself out of your trance and into the apartment, jay was already bustling about the kitchen, so you decided it was best to just do as he’d asked of you. you were quick to rid yourself of your sneakers, socks and jumper - leaving you in just a skimpy bralette and your tiny skirt, before crawling onto the bed.
you sat on my knees and waited patiently for jay’s arrival, the tell-tale closing of the cupboard letting you know that he was probably downing a glass of whiskey before dealing with you. your hands fidgeted in their place on your lap, and each second that jay took to come to the bedroom had you going beyond insane.
the door was wedged open so you could see jay coming, and you took a moment to appreciate how fucking good he looked with his hair ruffled and shirt half unbuttoned as he approached the room. however, all it took from him was a single glance in your direction to have you practically throwing yourself across the bed and into the position he wanted.
you knew he was staring at your core, your pussy entirely out on display and you had to fight back the urge to shake your hips, enticing him to come closer. no, that would just rile him up more, and you didn’t know if you could cope with an even bigger punishment than the one you had coming.
a shuffling noise came from behind you, and you felt the mattress dip as jay came to kneel behind you, hands coming to knead at the flesh of your ass.
“oh, so you wanna listen now, hmm?”
words failed out, only a garble of whines leaving your lips as you tried to formulate a response. jay chuckled at you, his hands moving to grip your hips as he ground his bulge against the curve of your ass.
“such a one-minded bitch, aren’t you? would do anything just to have me fucking ruin you like the common whore you are. all you think about is cock, surely i satisfy you better than that?”
you knew better than to bite back at his words, fully aware he was just trying to get you to slip up and have a reason to punish you more. you both were insatiable when it came to one another, and sharing a lot of… well, less than vanilla kinks, made times like this more interesting.
and honestly, jay’s heart swelled at the way you stayed quiet, allowing him to grip your wrists against the base of your spine, the feeling of your ass against him more heavenly than anything you could find in a church. he knew you were his good girl at heart, sometimes you just needed to be reminded of that. and he was more than willing to put you in your place when needed.
“such a pretty little thing, hmm? just needed sir’s attention to calm you down. like a little puppy, aren’t you?”
you whined at his words, your brain quickly turning to mush at the hot blaze his hands left on your skin.
before you could comprehend his actions, jay had pulled away to rid himself of his clothes, and the next thing you felt was his bare cock brushing against your folds. his tip nudged against your clit and you couldn’t help the way you shivered, hips rolling back against him.
“god, you’re sopping, baby. needed me that bad? how mean of me to keep you waiting like this..” he tsked, causing you to shake your head with a wail.
“not mean– never mean! so good to me, sir, need you so bad.”
you knew he grinned at that, but he indulged you anyway, pushing his tip past your walls and reveling in the way you keened at the sensation.
“gonna fuck you good, princess, i promise. make you forget why you felt the need to act like a brat.”
(a/n: scheduled post!)
-> don’t forget to reblog or comment if you like my works ♡ please refrain from modifying, translating, or copying my work. - © mixtape-racha
tags ✮⋆˙ : @pretty-racha @demetrisscarf @fluerz @bangtancultsposts @yevene
#mixtape-racha#mixtape-racha fic#143 i luv queue ✮⋆˙#enhypen fic#enhypen x reader#enhypen smut#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#jay enhypen#jay x reader#enhypen jay#park jongseong#enhypen jay smut#enhypen hard hours#park jongseong smut#aria: jay fics 🎧✮₊˚⊹#aria: enha fics 🎧✮₊˚⊹
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i just had a thought and needed to share it with you LMAO but chishiya is definitely the type of person to use the whole ‘three taps means i love you’ code cuz he rarely ever says it out loud. so like anytime he passes by you he’ll tap your arm three times and sometimes he even finds himself doing it unconsciously in his sleep :((
Thank you for sharing this with me, my friend ♥
How could I NOT write this for you?
Tap, tap, tap.
Three taps on your upper arm as he passed you, his eyes not even looking up from the article he was reading. Only Chishiya’s smirk hinted at the fact that those taps were intentional, and you moved your fingers to the still tingling skin of your arm.
He always did that. Tapping your arm when walking past you, tapping your fingers when you held his hand, even your head when you snuggled into his side while watching a movie together. You had barely noticed at first, but the more often Chishiya did it, the more you questioned what it actually meant.
You had tried to figure out if it occurred after you said or did something special. Maybe it was to tell you that you were stupid (in Chishiya’s own mocking but loving way of course), or that you should move aside? It didn’t make sense.
One time you had questioned him, and the only answer had been a knowing chuckle. Of course, the cunning blonde wouldn’t give you the answer that easily, since he loved to be the clever one. You had even tried to tap him back, but that only led to an even bigger smirk on his face.
Rolling your eyes, you followed Chishiya into the living room, where he dropped back into the couch and barely made place for you when you did the same. You snuggled into his touch, leaving him enough space so he could continue reading that article about surgical stuff, and looked up to his face. Strands of blonde hair tickled your skin, the scent of strawberry shampoo just a hint in the air as you breathed in.
You searched for his hand and didn’t let go until your fingers intertwined with his, and there it was again. Three taps of his thumb against the side of your hand.
“What does it mean?” you asked again, twirling a strand of blonde hair between your fingers.
Chishiya tilted his head towards you just so slightly, a sign that he enjoyed what you were doing. “Hmm?”
You snorted. “Come on, don’t fool me. The taps! You know what I’m talking about. What does it mean?”
“If you can’t figure it out yourself, there’s no need to explain it anyway.”
That asshole. He knew exactly how much you wanted that answer, and he enjoyed it even more to play with you. This was definitely not the reason you loved him. You punched his side, hard enough so he had to flinch, before you snuggled back into it. “I hate you, ‘Chiya.”
“No, you don’t.” He bluntly stated with a smirk. Of course you didn’t.
Later that night, when the movie was long finished and you both had gone to bed, you still lay wide awake and stared at the ceiling. In the darkness of night, only a few shadows were visible, cast by the moon and the trees outside your window. Three taps. And there was a meaning behind it. Just why couldn’t you figure it out?
Chishiya huffed in his sleep and turned around so he was facing you. His mouth was slightly parted and his hair was tousled all around his beautiful features. You couldn’t resist touching his cheek, and his lips curled into a smile for a second. When you pulled back your arm to give Chishiya the space he needed, his fingers brushed your skin and you felt the soft tap, tap, tap once more.
He even did that while sleeping! But what-
You scanned his features, listened to the sound of his breath, and despite the riddle he wouldn’t solve for you, your heart was almost bursting with love for this man. You loved so many things about him – his voice, his cleverness, the way he was a man of few words who preferred to use tiny gestures.
And then it struck you.
Of course! How couldn’t you have seen it before?
Everything that Chishiya did had a meaning, even the slightest touch was considered.
Tap, tap, tap.
Three taps… three words.
I love you.
You smiled, breathing a kiss onto Chishiya’s lips. “I love you, too.”
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The course of Nature, part (2)
First Part
Pairing: Negan x Fem!Reader
Warnings: mentions of Negan’s brutality, cursing, implied coercion and kidnapping, mentions of polygamy, (c’mon guys, everything related to Negan in the Sanctuary), talking of periods and pregnancy, thoughts about abortion, sensitive content regarding pro-choice… SMUT, a soft mommy kink, rather pregnancy kink, a little biting and a little blood, Negan being a horny jackass.
might miss some warnings.
TWD Era: Alexandria, Negan Era, (season 7)
Notes: Seeing Negan saying, “Oh my, look at this little Angel!” and grabbing Judith from her crib did something to me, and here it is
“Why don’t you want to be my wife?” he asked her, amused
“Negan, I know you are like a rabbit or a jackass… you are horny and you hump the first thing you see, but I’m like a cool Eagle, or a wolf… I mate for life” she answered simply. And it was so clever he wasn’t even mad, he chuckled darkly watching her intently, hoping to burn the shape of her body and her face in his mind forever
“You are acting like someday I’m going to get bored of you and just let you leave” he whispered in her ear. He felt her getting nervous, the small hairs on the back of her head standing to attention and goosebumps in her arms. But still she acted like he didn’t cause her incredible fear.
“You might” she whispered
“Believe me, I will not” he answered back
You didn’t want to have anything to do with the other wives of Negan, really, you didn’t want to talk to anyone, you didn’t want to make friends, you just wanted to stay in your room and most importantly, stay fucking alive and not make it worse for your friends in Alexandria
But…
When weeks passed and you didn't get your period. You were quickly losing your mind
It was hard to keep track of the calendar in the fucking zombie apocalypse. All the electronics went to shit… but you guessed that outside in some place of the sactuary, someone might have a fucking clue.
Your period was like a swiss watch, you were never late, it was like clockwork, so you had a sense of when it was coming, so now, you left your room looking frantically for a calendar, or something
The wives seemed surprised to see you, but somehow relieved, since he took you, Negan never left your side, he didn’t spend the night with any of them, you thought they’d be angry, or jealous, but the looks on their faces told you they were grateful, and relieved.
Even though Negan was proud to say he had killed rapists and didn’t tolerate the awful act, he did use coercion to get what he wanted, he used it on you, and probably all of them as well. Yes he did give them a choice but… “Be my wife or I’ll bash yours or your boyfriend's brains” didn’t seem much of a choice to you.
“Hey, we have been wanting to meet you” only two of them approached you, a redhead, and a smaller girl, with dark hair and and bangs, “I’m Frankie, this is Tanya”
“(Y/N)” You answered, “Sorry I was hiding in my room” you explained
“It’s understandable” she drew an apologetic smile. There was an awkward silence, in which they expected you to say something, and all the way around
“I was wondering…” you started, “if any of you had a calendar, or something… a way to tell what day it is?” you explained. They all looked at eachother. The one you knew her name was Frankie took your hand softly and led you to the wall where there was this old calendar
“It’s the 17th” she said softly. You just nodded, confirming your fears, you were late, two fucking weeks late. You drew a shaky breath, tears burning the back of your eyes.
“Shit” you whispered, debating internally if you should share your fears or not
“What’s going on?” she asked you, “you can tell us”
“Yeah” a blonde one that seemed a little out of it also came close to you, “we are so grateful to you” she whispered with a reassuring smile, “For… distracting him…”
“I’m late” you choked out. You heard them gasp loudly, “I don’t know… I’m two weeks late and I feel like shit, I’m probably…”
“pregnant” murmured the blonde one
Frankie must have known how you felt. Maybe they all did. She placed her soft hand on your shoulder to comfort you, and it worked. You draw a shaky breath, wiping the tears with the back of your hand
“What is he going to do?” you asked, “Is he going to… push me down the stairs or something?”
“We don’t know” she whispered, “we are the ones that take care of it” she explained, “he had never express his want to… have kids”
“He is the one that makes sure we use contraceptives” the black haired woman said
“I’ll go with you to the doctor” Frankie said, and you just nodded, “It’s the only way to be sure”. grabbing the hand she offered you tightly, and under the sad eyes of all of Negan’s wives, you left the room.
“I’m terrified” you murmured, when you came face to face with a man you knew they called Fat Joey
“Hey joey” greeted Frankie, and he eyes you both suspiciously
“Negan wouldn’t want you to walk alone” he said, “specially if you are terrified” you wanted to swallow your own words
“We are fine, Fat Joey” Frankie muttered
“Let me escort you” you squeezed her hand, but he walked behind you silently in your journey to the doctor’s office
You managed to shake him off of you in the consult, you closed the door on his face.
“Good morning ladies, what can I do for you?”, this doctor gave you the creeps, but he was the only one around so…
Frankie gave you a reassuring smile, nodding, so you turned to the doctor
“I think I’m late”, you whispered, he looked at you and nodded
“Very well, I have a pregnancy test you could take”
It was the most uncomfortable 5 minutes of your entire life, and you were living in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, go figure
It took less than 10 minutes for the two lines to appear, and you truly felt like you were going to lose it. Frankie didn’t say anything, neither did you, but she hugged you tightly and you hugged her back
“Everything is going to be alright, it’s still early”, she whispered sweetly in your ear, caressing your hair, you only nodded, it was true, it was only a couple of weeks… Frankie looked at the doctor
“Is there anything you could give her?”, she asked. The doctor looked at you and then at her.
“No”
“That’s a lie”, she accused
“Yes”, he said simply
“You have to do something!” you demanded, “Give me something…”
“I’m sorry, I can’t do anything without Negan’s permission”
“WHAT?” you argued, “It’s my body…”
“It’s Negan’s baby” he said seriously, “I can’t do anything or give you anything without him knowing” He perfectly could, but he had clear instructions from Negan, and he valued his own life more than yours.
. . .
Negan knew something was wrong when he passed the lounge where his wives were and they all looked at him in terror.
Did someone die?
Did someone escape? or tried to?
He hadn't punished someone publicly this week, so he knew this wasn’t that. And if someone actually had died, betrayed him or escaped, he would have known by now, so, what was it? He looked directly at Frankie, she averted her gaze, but her eyes looked at the wall to the right. He just nodded, silently, and kept walking until he found himself at your door. He knocked twice, but you didn’t answer, so he just went in.
He found you with your back turned to the door, in a fetal position on the bed
“Hey sunshine” he greeted carefully, and he saw you flinch. You turned, slowly, and he was surprised to see you crying. Did you find out about all the things he had done in Alexandria? No, impossible, “What is going on?” he asked, you were there, in front of him, so you didn’t tried to scape, and you didn’t kill anyone so he wondered what got you so fucking scared of him right now
“I’m sorry” you whispered, “Negan” you called, “I love you” oh how much he could have given to hear you say those words, but the way you say them, it was desperate, you sounded like Amber, you didn’t mean it, in fact, you wanted to calm him down
“What is going on?” he repeated the question, harder this time, making you flinch raising your shoulders and trying to hide between them
“I’m pregnant” you whispered, you dropped the revelation and then you wanted to bend over your own body to protect yourself from him, and that is what kind of broke him. “I’m sorry”
Of all the reactions he may had that you played in your mind, him chuckling and smiling widely wasn’t one of them
“You are not mad?” you asked back, and he shook his head
One of the most scary things about Negan is that he was totally unpredictable, you could never guess what’s coming
In one scenario he grabbed you by the arm and threw you down the stairs, and then made sure to beat you up until there was nothing left inside of you. In another he’d let the doctor get his hands on you, but you never, ever, thought he’d be happy about it
“Aw honey, this is wonderful news!” you jumped when he yelled that, opening his arms in celebration, he never stopped looking at you, “An heir!” he continued, “A little savior, a little Negan or Lucille” you shook in your place when he called his deceased wife’s name
And suddenly, you were more scared.
“A little Lucille?” you muttered, he had told you everything about his late wife, and the thought he might be using you to relive some weird fantasy chilled your bones. Suddenly you felt your eyes wet with tears, and not being able to stop them, fat, bitter tears started running down your cheeks, “No…” you whined. His face dropped when he saw how you started to lose it, you started to hyperventilate
“Hey, sweetheart, I need you to relax”
“You have to talk to the doctor, so he’ll give me something…” you tried to explain
“Why would I do that, baby?” he asked
“I can’t have your baby” you whined, wiping your tears
“Why the hell not?” he asked, this time his face became so serious so fast you shook in fear
“Negan…” you called, expecting him to understand, “please” he softened his gaze on you, with his gloved hand he caressed your cheek as he smiled sweetly at you, but that didn’t calm you, he was unpredictable and you’ll do well in remembering that. He leaned in and kissed you softly, gently, as he was scared of breaking you
“You are going to be an amazing mother sweety” he whispered against your lips and you only whined, “anything you want, everything is yours!” he announced, standing up, “I’ll tell all of them, to bring you anything you could need”
“You are going to let me carry this baby?” you asked
“Of course”, he said simply
“Please Negan”, you whispered, “I can’t bring a child into this world”
“It will have hundreds of people that will take care of him”, he said, “we are in the sanctuary baby”
“Negan please”, you begged, he just say on the edge of the bed, cradling your face with his big hands
“This a good thing baby”, he whispered, leaning in and catching your lips with his
“Negan”, you whined against his lips
“You are going to be such a good mommy”, he purred, abandoning your lips and going down your throat with heated open kisses
And you snapped out of your hornyness, you grabbed his face and pushed him off of you
“Darling..!”
“Fuck off Negan!”, you grunted, but your heated face told him your resolution wouldn’t last long, you were as horny as he was. He smiled wickedly
He knew he had chosen well, you were going to protect that baby with your life, your lioness instincts already kicking in
“C’mon mommy”, he purred, “come to daddy”
“I hate you”, you said, with no conviction in your voice
“No you don’t”
And perhaps that is what was so messed up about all of this
You were scared to death, yes, but you were also… excited
And Negan could see that
He approached you again and held you in his arms, he leaned in and again he kissed you. It was soft at first but then it turned heated, you grabbed him roughly, pulling on the hairs on the back of his neck making him grunt needily
“You like it rough, don’t you?”, he mocked, you didn’t want to talk, you just took his leather jacket and threw it on the floor caresly
Another day he would have make a big fuss about it, but today he knew better
“he leaned over you, wanting to pin you down to the bed, but you didn’t let him, instead you managed to pin him down, straddling him
“Oh baby”, he purred, “or should I say… mommy?”
“Shut up”, you growled, leaning in and kissing him roughly. he immediately responded with teeth and licks of his own, but as you separated from him, you bit his lower lip until blood came up
He whined under you, not pained but horny and almost pathetic, you grind your hips against his own, feeling his cock hardening between you, giving you goosebumps
“Hormones?”, he teased, but you shushed him up, you wanted him, you needed to feel him, you needed to distract yourself from everything that has happening
You almost ripped his pants off of him, making him chuckle, setting himself comfortably on the bed, you stood up to toss your own pants away from you, and then you crawled back over him. HIs greedy hands tossed your upper clothes, and finally he had you naked all to himself. You leaned in and kissed him roughly
“Yes mommy”, he teased, and you couldn’t help but slap him, not hard, and he only smiled wickedly, “I loved this side of you baby”, he purred, placing his hands on your hips
“You are so fucking mean Negan”, you accused, “you misogynistic prick!”, but you couldn't stay angry at him, you leaned in and kissed him before he could make some snarky remark. He responded at the kiss immediately, his greedy hands caressing you all over he could, your thighs, your sides, your hips. You rubbed your pussy against his hard cock, and you couldn’t help it anymore, you needed him.
You used your hand to pumped his thick cock a few times, before impaling yourself with it
“Fuck!”, you cursed at the same time, perhaps Negan was so attracted to you because you both sounded alike sometimes
You started riding him angrily, almost like you wanted to hurt him, but that turned him on even more. You started moving your hips back and forth. and the friction in your clit almost made you loss it
“FUCK THAT’S IT BABY”, he whined, and you gasped, feeling your orgasm build incredibly quickly
“I hate you”, you cried when you cummed
“I know”, he whispered, entertained, letting you fuck him for once, admiring the goddess riding him.
But you rode him until you cummed again, finally making him finish inside of you.
You let yourself fall on top of him, as you both recuperated, he just held you, caressing your naked back
“I mean it”, he gasped
“What?”, you asked back
“I will do anything to protect you”, he promised, “I leave Rick alone, I promise, you will be a great mother, I really believe that”, you smiled, not letting him see it, of course.
. . .
“Arat” the girl was on his side on a second, that determined look in her eyes that Negan liked so much, “If something happens to me… “ he started, and she frowned, like he just spoke treason, “If this world is fucked up and for reason I fucking die and Rick the prick is still alive I want you to do something for me, ok?”
“You want me to kill him Sir?” she asked, and he chuckled
“No, I want you to take (Y/N) to him” he whispered, “without me controlling everything she is in danger, I want you to make sure she comes back to her people”
Damn, being a father does change you and your priorities
He thought with a smirk on his face and a swing of his bat
TAGLIST
@neganswoman @nijiru @imvomitting @aleemendoza2425-blog @0vecam @heavenhatesme
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"Bound"
event masterlist
— ♬ "You realize how fine she is. She's just what you've been looking for"
— ♬ Ushijima x Reader, SFW, timeskip, fem reader, strangers to friends to lovers, no beta
Usually, Ushijima Wakatoshi left no room for miscalculation. For a long time, he lived with logic and facts. He made no unnecessary actions and did what he thought was fit. He received comments calling him some robot, he understood where it came from but never understood if it was supposed to be a form of insult or harmless teasing. Nonetheless, he paid no attention to it. On the other hand, Ushijima received countless compliments regarding his looks and appreciated it to a certain extent. However, others had way more time in their hands to waste screaming deranged sentences about how they were 'down bad' or 'thirsting' over his physical physic. Ushijima doesn't want to elaborate further on how he felt about those sides of his fanbase.
The athlete had a stable support system from his father and friends, he's endlessly grateful for their support. Ushijima found himself contented with the people he surrounded himself with, he wasn't the kind to linger in crowds but rather the crowd tended to linger around him. After all, he was a famous athlete so he thought it was natural. People often approaching him for photos or autographs wasn't out of the norm but when you decided to approach him one evening, Ushijima was admittedly astonished.
"Hello"
You started with a mere hello. Ushijima peered to his left and saw you standing there with your glimmering dress and lipgloss shining under the chandelier lights. Tonight was an official gathering for Volleyball athletes, the program ended thirty-five minutes ago and everyone was free to scatter around and enjoy the evening. Fortunately, interviewers or the annoying paparazzi weren't allowed inside the venue.
"Hello"
Ushijima greeted back, he thought it was only polite. He didn't recognize you so you weren't an athlete, perhaps you were one of the staff, or maybe one of the organizers of the event.
"I'm [Name] [Surname]"
"Ushijima Wakatoshi"
"Oh, I know. Everybody knows the famous UshiWaka"
Then he learns your name and he instinctively replies with his. Of course, you knew him and he's used to people knowing who he was. Fame doesn't phase him. But what strikes him as perplexed is why you have decided to approach him.
"Would you like an autograph or a photo?"
"Oh, no thank you! I was wondering if you fancy chatting with me"
"Hm"
He hummed, it was harmless. He finishes his champagne and waits for you to talk, but you only stare at him through your thick lashes and sweet smile. Were you waiting for him to speak first? Now, he has no problem with that but he has to admit that he doesn't do it often. Ushijima adjusts his collar and clears his throat.
"How are you finding this evening?"
"Great! I hope you enjoyed your time here"
"Everything is well"
You nodded but didn't reply after. Ushijima finds it odd that his mind is scrambling to keep the conversation alive knowing he could stop talking if he wishes to and wait for you to walk away. But somehow, he doesn't want you to leave. So, the athlete racks his clever mind for anything to say to make you stay longer.
"Do you like chocolates, [Surname]-san?"
"Yes, I do"
"What do you think about volleyball?"
"I think it's a fantastic sport"
He asks you innocent questions to get you to open up and surprisingly it keeps the conversation going. Later, you start spurring hilarious stories about your friends and he'll take note of every detail. You'd share about the music you listen to and he finds your music taste similar to his as he'd share his input about his favorite songs. You and he talked and talked until the venue slowly emptied. You found your cue to leave but Ushijima frowns at that, he insists on walking you out and calling a ride for you.
"You're incredibly sweet, Ushijima-san"
"You can call me Wakatoshi"
"Okay, Wakatoshi"
You winked and Ushijima felt his chest flutter. He opened the car door for you as you waved him goodbye. He wonders when will he see you again because he keeps thinking about you until his head rests on his pillow. He had no idea where to contact you until he brought your name up to Kuroo Tetsuro and by his luck, you happened to be his co-worker. Ushijima had a hold on your number within seconds thanks to Kuroo.
"Hello? Who is this?"
"This is Wakatoshi"
Ushijima can hear you gasping and falling out of your chair dramatically. There were a few chaotic noises on the other line until he heard your voice again. His chest flutters like it did previously.
"Hi! Did you need something? How did you get my number"
"I got it from Kuroo"
"That sly cat"
"I was wondering if you're free to eat dinner with me tomorrow evening"
"You want to eat dinner with me...?"
"Yes"
"Oh, what an honor! Sure! I'll go"
Your answer makes the corner of Ushijima's lips quirk up, it was so unusual that even he was taken aback. He consulted with Tendou Satori afterward via phone call and told him everything, he asked if he did the right thing. His best friend only laughs.
"Just whatever makes your heartbeat go faster, Wakatoshi-kun"
Ushijima didn't understand it at first but when he finally sees you that evening, his heartbeat spikes up. You were wearing one of those dresses that makes him gulp. When you wrap your hand around his arm and go inside the restaurant, Ushijima gets the similar feeling he gets when he's playing on the volleyball court. During dinner, he notices your finer qualities. And the magic of your rare personality.
When dinner is finished, Ushijima lends you his coat when the evening gets windy. You keep his coat until he takes you home. That evening you reached to the tip of your toes to peck him on the cheek before softly shutting your door. Ushijima stood in front of the door, rigid. His hand creeps up to his cheek where you have kissed him. Suddenly, his face feels warm and his chest palpitates wildly. If he hadn't known any better, he thinks he's going down with something.
But he knew what this was. He has read the shoujo mangas Tendou was recommending to him and watched the romcoms available on his television. Ushijima was falling in love. It seemed so foreign yet natural to experience it for the first time. He never prioritized romance during his high school days, having a girlfriend never crossed his mind. However, when you came into the picture, he thought he wouldn't mind having you as his girlfriend.
Ushijima takes his time to woo you, to see if you could return his feelings. He took you to meet his friends, he asked you to have dinner with his father, and he'd even gone far as to bring you to Paris with him to visit Tendou. On the trip back to the country, Ushijima knew he was head over heels for you. He asks what your sign is and he'll find you two are compatible. He realizes how fine you are. You were just what he was looking for.
Everything you did affected him greatly, you plagued his mind with your smile and scent, and he couldn't imagine another lifetime where he didn't meet you. So, as he asked you out on an aquarium date, he specified it was a date and not just one of your random hangouts, and you said yes, Ushijima felt so happy that he could do twenty sets of a volleyball match.
His cheeks ached from smiling as you pointed out every sea creature you saw and yelled out its name. His phone gallery was filled with pictures of you at that moment. When he admires the colorful jellyfish with you, he sucks in a breath and snakes a hand around your back. His heart skips a beat when you lean against him.
"Isn't this nice?"
"It is. I want to do this with you all the time"
"Me too, 'Toshi"
"[Name]?"
"Yeah?"
"I like you"
You turn your head to face him and giggle. Ushijima couldn't deny it, he was bound to falling in love. He was bound to falling in love with you.
"I like you too, 'Toshi"
"So, will you be my girlfriend"
"Of course, ya goofball!"
When Ushijima looks at you it is visible in his eyes. He was beyond lovestruck with you. From the tenderness in his features and the brightness of his smile. His heart wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)
#— ♬ ©kitasgloves#haikyuu#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu fic#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#ushijima wakatoshi#ushijima wakatoshi x reader#ushijima x reader#ushijima x you#ushijima x y/n#Spotify
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