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#seriously though I JUST washed those
catcatb0y · 1 year
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Not being to regulate my emotions properly is so wild, like
Loss? Death? Inevitable.
Realizing that I will never be able to properly live as a fully function human because of my disabilities? Been there, realized that.
What would normally cause a large emotional spiral? Shut down.
The pants that I want to wear getting dirty shortly after I washed them? Absolutely devastating. Terrible. Horrible. I will never recover. I'm already tearing up.
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tathrin · 1 year
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Anyone else have a favorite obscure or ridiculous word that they love so much they have to put it in everything they write as soon as they have even the faintest excuse to do so?
Mine is incarnadine.
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intersectionalpraxis · 2 months
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"If a pig catches both a human influenza A virus and an avian influenza A virus at the same time, it can spark a process known as viral reassortment — a genetic exchange in which flu viruses swap gene segments." "Those swaps can introduce dramatic changes, producing a new virus with certain properties of a non-human strain coupled with the capacity to infect and spread between people." "The death rate in humans may be upwards of 50 per cent, World Health Organization data suggests, though it's possible that milder infections are getting missed, skewing the case fatality ratio. Still, in a population that's never been exposed, the global impacts could be dire." "More human cases could also be happening under the radar among farm workers who've moved to the U.S. from abroad, don't speak English as their first language, and may be hesitant to seek medical help, he added." "So I think there's probably underreporting on both sides," Armstrong said." "If [H5N1] gets into a population where there's constantly animals going in and out … it might not ever leave."
I've been watching this develop for the past several days, and apart from being terrified most people will not take this seriously (I've seen a handful of people already shout conspiracy on social media and it's alarming to see, as always). What I wanted to point out is that pandemics are going to continue to be our 'normal.' I watched a great video on YouTube a while ago (I believe it was by Vice?) that touched base on how this is going to become our new reality because of multiple factors (such as our proximity to animals, and environments/etc). It was when Covid hit and they did a piece debunking some of the misinformation floating on the internet. If I can find it I will post it here because it was informative and relevant to pretty much any world crisis we will see around any virus that spreads among a human population.
This post isn't trying to fear monger anyone, I just hope more people are aware of what is happening because this is important to talk about. There are already cases (of cows getting this bird flu) in the US, and I won't be surprised if there will be instances in more countries around the world. As usual, keep washing your hands/keeping good hygiene practices, masking up (and if you aren't I hope you consider it), and taking precautions if you do happen to visit/work or go near a pig or poultry farm too:
I'll keep track of this here of course, but please stay informed folks. And also FU to any governments who will try to minimize this or try to diminish the severity until it's too late and community spread happens like Covid because their actions are influenced by capitalistic interests.
Update (April 7th, 2024, 9:32pm EST): to anyone wondering where some of the source information originates from -here is a link to the CDC. They are tracking documented avian virus outbreaks in the US and the public can access it here:
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she's mean, and he loves her for it.
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summary: your peers wonder how the ever-so-annoying gojo satoru can stand being in a relationship with you pairing: sunshine!gojo satoru x grumpy!female reader genre: angst, fluff warnings: none
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"Did you guys know Gojo-sensei is dating-" Nobara looks around left and right before whispering your name in fear that you might be around.
"Ehhh?" Yuuji's eyebrows knit together. "No way. She's so scary and he's so...happy."
Nobara agrees, "She never smiles -- kinda looks like she has a permanent frown, too. She scares me."
"You think maybe she intimidated him to date her?"
Megumi watches as his two friends bicker about whether you and Satoru look good together, not realizing that you've heard everything they said. Megumi notices you've arrived to teach them and clears his throat, catching the attention of his two friends. He glances at you to check how you're doing after hearing what they said, but as expected, you remain professional and stoic. But Megumi knows better, he grew up under your and Satoru's wings after all.
"Shit." Nobara and Yuuji mutter under their breaths.
-----
It's fairly common for people to question your relationship with Satoru. He's this... happy-go-lucky guy who annoys everyone except those on the same wavelength as him, while you keep to yourself, prioritizing your alone time, and taking things seriously.
Sometimes, too serious.
You never let it get to you, though, because you don't really care what people say. You and Satoru are happy, that's all that matters. Until recently, when those jerk Kyoto students came over to train, they started talking about you and Satoru.
"She's so serious all the time, I don't understand how Gojo puts up with her."
"I think he's scared to breakup with her."
"I bet she's high maintenance."
"Honestly, why is he with her when he can be with someone who's... not so difficult?"
You grit your teeth at that last comment. You can't tell who said what, but it doesn't matter. Their words got to your head and now you're angry. Angry because you're scared they might be right.
Does Satoru think you're difficult? You're not entirely sure how to show them that yes, you deserve Satoru despite being the dark, grumpy person you are.
Sighing, you decide to go home instead of joining the dinner. Satoru's not in there anyway, he just got back from a mission and is waiting for you at home.
Once you close the door to your apartment, you immediately feel Satoru's arm envelope around you from behind. He smells like fresh mint -- just got out of the shower.
"Hi darling," he kisses your cheek.
"Hi, Toru." You take your shoes off and give him a quick peck before making your way to the bedroom to put your stuff down.
Satoru watches you slowly, "hm, aren't you supposed to have that dinner with the Kyoto students today?"
Your jaw clenches, taking a second before shrugging. "Decided to skip it. I'm tired."
He just hums, "In that case, you wanna watch Bridgerton with me after your shower?"
"Again?" You groan, "Isn't it like the third time you've watched it?"
"Yes, and?"
"I'll skip, thanks."
He blows a raspberry and leaves you to shower while he lays down on the couch to watch Anthony Bridgerton fall in love with his Kate Sheffield.
While you were in the shower, the words kept coming back to you. Somehow more exaggerated. You're difficult. He doesn't like you. He's just tolerating you. Why would he be with someone who doesn't even smile? Look at him, Gojo is the epitome of sunshine. You're nothing like him. Why would he like you?
Groaning, you let the hot water wash away your thoughts -- though they don't really go away. Maybe you should just try to be nicer to Satoru, be more cheerful.
After your shower, you see him lying down on the couch while watching his show, and you sit on the other end, silently dreading having to watch the same show again. But you're doing this for Satoru, so you will.
With a satisfied grin, Satoru saunters over and lies down on top of you, his head resting on your chest. You smile softly, enjoying the tight grip he has on you and his soft hair between your fingers.
"How was the mission?" You ask, "Did you have to go to Shoko?"
Satoru shakes his head, "Sweetheart, it's me we're talking about here."
"You can still get hurt, Toru." You pat his hair gently, "I've seen you bleed."
"I'm always careful. Don't worry." He kisses your hand.
You sigh softly. You know Satoru is always careful, it's just that he always goes on missions alone, and more often nowadays that it makes you worry. Yes, he's the strongest, but you never want to take that for granted.
"Toru," You call him again, a little hesitant, "You know I love you, right?"
He lifts his head from your chest, staring at you with those big blue eyes. "Of course. And I love you. So much."
He kisses you deeply, now switching positions so you're lying down on top of him. "So do you want to talk about it?"
"No.." You mumble. Of course, Satoru knows. He isn't stupid. He can sense when something's wrong with you, just like how you can feel the scar on his hip that wasn't there before. He did go to Shoko.
But none of you say anything. You just hold each other tighter that night. It's more than enough.
-----
Satoru is on another mission. It's supposed to be easy, at least that's what he said 3 days ago. You haven't heard from him at all in 3 days and you're beginning to worry. Your frown is deeper than usual, you sigh more often, and your fuse is shorter.
Everyone's more scared of you.
You let the kids take a break while you try to collect your thoughts. You can't be seen so distracted, not when Satoru left you in charge of them.
"You doing okay?" You hear Megumi's voice approach you.
Blinking away the tears that almost fell, you turn around to face him. "I'm fine, Megs."
"I told you not to call me that..." He sulks as he stands next to you, leaning against the wall. He can see you're distraught, and growing up with you, there's only been a handful of times he's seen you like this.
"You know he's going to be fine, right?"
You sigh. "I'm just worried."
You remember once when Satoru didn't come back for a week. He couldn't be reached, no one could track him down, and you were just at home, taking care of Megumi. The boy's more like you than Satoru, he's not exactly sensitive or cheery. But he knows when you're feeling sad, so he'd stay up with you, praying for Satoru's safety.
"Guys!" Yuuji runs towards you and Megumi.
"What is it, Yuuji?"
"It's Gojo-sensei-" He pants, "He's back!"
You run as fast as you can with Yuuji and Megumi, and you can finally see your white-haired, blue-eyed boyfriend limping his way back to the school grounds.
He raises his hand and waves to you with a big smile despite struggling to walk. "Tsk-" You frown even more, feeling the tears pooling again as you walk towards him and catch him in an embrace.
"Umph-" He groans. "Hi, baby."
You let go of him and check his injuries -- he's healed most of it himself, thank goodness, but the bruises are still there. "We need to go to Shoko-"
"Mm, that can wait." He pulls you to sit down on the soft grass, hugging you once again. "It's okay, I'm here now."
You choke on your own sobs and hug him tighter, sitting between his legs and burying your head in his chest. "You idiot."
"'M sorry for makin' you worry," he smiles gently, leaving kisses all over your face.
As you cup his face in your hands, you're suddenly very aware of the 3 pairs of eyes staring at you both. Noticing it too, Satoru covers your red, embarrassed face. "Okay, nothing to see here. Go.. do something. Scram. Skedaddle."
Once the kids are gone, he chuckles and thinks you're being really cute. "They're gone, sweets."
You glare at his teasing smile.
Satoru wipes away your tears, kissing your frown away. "What took you so long?" You ask after kissing him deeply, not letting him go.
A smirk lingers on Satoru's lips. "I took a detour to Kyoto after the mission to teach some kids a lesson."
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adanfore · 7 months
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Something about virgin Choso fucks me up in the head oh my god.
He acts tough. Every time he’s around you, talking to Yuuji, his brothers, he puts on a show as though nothing in the world matters, he’s always calm, layed back. Talking to him, you always got so nervous when he stared you down every time without a care in the world it seems, to you it looked like talking to anyone for him was easy as a breeze of wind, you kind of wished you were like that, like Choso. That also was half of why you were attracted to the man. The other half, well, self explanatory: he was great with his brothers, he was attractive in his own damn way which made your knees weak every time you saw him.
You hadn’t expected him to be a virgin, and a whiney one at that. When you had walked past the bathroom to the kitchen, you heard him in
the bathroom, he was masturbating.. Were you eavesdropping? Yes, but you couldn’t hold yourself from listening in to his beautiful cries of pleasure, whimpering, pleading for some reason, those pretty moans and whines turned you on more than you imagined. Well, the worst part came when you had not realized he was done already, you only realized when he opened the door and stood there, shocked, embarrassement flood over you and you just ran back to the guest bedroom.
If it only wasn’t for you getting carried away, this wouldn’t be happening right now, you and Choso sitting on the sofa, akwardly waiting for Yuuji to come back from the kitchen so the atmosphere turns nice again. You can feel Choso sneaking glances at you, fidgeting with the black silver rings on his fingers. Not wanting to have this continue for any longer, you decided you’d speak up.
“Listen, I’m sorry for yesterday, I just.. uh..”
You couldnt find a explanation for yourself.
“N-No, It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have.. Uhm, I shouldn’t have done it in the bathroom.”
“But I was eavesdropping on you, I need to apologize for that. I just couldn’t help but get carried away from… Shock!”
And as Choso was about to answer, Yuuji suddenly came into the room, having only heard muffles of your conversation.
“Yo, what’re you guys talking about?”
With a panic, you blurt whatever comes to mind.
“ Oh! I was just telling Choso that I’ll be helping him later.”
“Helping him with what?”
“Just washing the dishes, just to repay him for yesterday, I hit him after he scared me in the dark at night!
Yuuji seems content with that answer, and sits between you two. You couldn’t help but notice how Choso looked at you after you said you’ll help him later, eyes a little wide, a deep red spreading on his cheeks. He didn’t know whether to take it seriously or not, well, you were just making an excuse, but still, a gesture like that would blow his mind completely.
After the movie marathon, you both HAD to go wash the dishes, to play some truth into your silly excuse you gave to Yuuji, it was akward, very akward washing dishes with him. But you got to see Choso, the real him, how he was all fidgety, getting clumsy and blushing as hard as a cherry.
“Was it true..? What you said earlier?”
“What are you talking about, Choso?”
“H-How you said you’d help me later..”
“I am helping you thoug- Oh, you mean that?”
You said as the realization hit you, he was hard, and it was all because of your choice of words.
“I-I’m sorry, I am just gonna go, real sorry for thi-“
“N-No, Choso! I- I can help you, if you want me to?”
The sigh Choso gave out was huge.
“Please…”
That was all you needed to hear, proceeding to drag him up to his room at the back of the hall, the location of his room, being secluded and far away from any other room made you so grateful.
You sat him on the edge of his bed, leaning down to massage his thighs.
“How do you want me to help you, Choso?”
Hearing his name come out of your pretty lips always made him want to hold back smashing his face into yours, but now, he was just confused, he didn’t know what would be the most ‘appropriate’ thing to ask. All he wanted now, was to ruin you, to make you his, kiss you, feel and touch you everywhere he had ever dreamed of.
“I.. I don’t know, just- just touch me, do whatever, please..”
When you heard that, you immediately knew that he was a virgin, to your shock infact. Not wanting to torture this poor man any longer, you stopped massaging his thighs for a moment and told him to slide his sweatpants down, all the while looking at the wet spot of precum left on them.
You looked at his length for a second, before actually bringing your hand up to it, to rub and feel it to all of its size, he was huge, possibly the biggest you’ve ever had in a partner. It blew your mind and you wondered how it would feel inside you, how it would fill all of your insides, but, right now it was all about Choso’s pleasure which needed to be fixed.
The pool of precum doubled in size as you continued rubbing it, deciding to finally free it from his boxers, Choso moaned when it sprang up and hit his stomach. That made you look up at him, needing to hear more of his sounds, he looked back at you with a pleading look on his face which just said “please, touch me already”
You grabbed his length with your hand and started stroking it, slowly at first, picking up speed with some time. The moans, whines and whimpers this man put out were sent straight to your core.
“Please, Please, please, go faster, please, I’m gonna cum, Y/N, please!”
That motivated you to pick up speed, also to tighten your grip on his length to up the pleasure for him. His moans were getting out of control until you looked up at him with a strict look, telling him to be quiet. With that sense of dominance, he came all over, all over your hand, his stomach and thighs. His chest heaving, some small moans still coming out as he came down from his high.
You brought your hand up to your mouth, licking your hand and tasting Him before you began to walk out of his room, off to finish yourself off.
“W-Wait, can’t I make you feel good now?”
“I did this as an apology, Choso. Some other time, maybe.”
And with a wink and a smirk to him, you walked off to your room with an almost unbarable heat between your legs, it also had to be fixed.
NOT PROOFREAD ITS FUCKING 5 AM I WANNA GO SLEEP, ILL DO IT SOME OTHER TIME
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freyito · 3 days
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ꜰʀᴇʏᴀ ꜝ ⨟ ʜᴏᴡ ʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ
✭ pairing(s): aventurine, dr ratio, boothill, gallagher, sunday, argenti sampo, jing yuan, blade, luocha, dan heng, gepard, caelus, welt (seperate) x reader
✩ inspo: this is fun to think about
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✧ a/n: for those who don't know exactly what this means (also shoutout to freya the god of love), there are 3-5 'types' of (romantic) love. eros, romantic love, ludus, playful love, pragma, enduring love, and then there's mania which is obsessive love and agape which is universal love. The last two can sorta bend in a familiar or platonic way as well as romantic.
🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff, proofread
✎ wc: 3.3k
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⎯ Aventurine
LUDUS ; PLAYFUL LOVE. Aventurine prefers to flirt, to have fun, be a little silly with his love. After all, life’s too short to not enjoy it. He wants a partner who will not only put up with his games but also join in and enjoy it, someone to tease who will tease back. He would love a deeper connection as well, but before that comes fun.
“Honey, I’m hooome~!” Aventurine calls from the apartment door, making his way to the kitchen. You weren’t cooking anything, simply sifting through the fridge for a snack. His arms wrap around your waist as the scent of his near overbearing cologne washes over you. He presses his lips to your neck and peppers it with a bunch of fleeting kisses, mumbling about his day into your skin even though you didn’t ask. When you dared to try and pull away, he only pulls you closer, pinching at your waist and grinning. “Awhhh, are you not happy to see me?”
He doesn’t give you time to reply, hauling you up and turning on his heels. You don’t get to complain, not before he practically throws you on the bed and throws himself onto you. He wastes no time finding your most ticklish spots, waiting for you to ask for mercy. “I want a proper welcome home!” He exclaims, like you hadn't given him enough attention. Not like you can do what he wants while you do your best not to laugh, squirming underneath him, trying to break free from his tickle attack.
⎯ Dr. Ratio
EROS ; ROMANTIC LOVE. While Ratio isn’t necessarily the best at showing his affection, he is head over heels for you. Absolutely and irrevocably in love, and it only grows with each passing day. He’s quite the gentleman when you get past his cold demeanor, and is quite by-the-book.
You had met him in his classroom after his classes, to give him the lunch you had made him. He regards you with a brisk ‘mh’, You are used to this reaction, and you don’t take it to heart. He tells you he’ll be home a little later, and apologizes. Silence stretches between you two before you tell him it’s alright and start to leave the room.
“I am sorry, my love,” He grabs your wrist before you can fully turn around. He presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist, eyes locked on yours as he apologizes. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Dinner tomorrow.” He’s so blunt with it, like you have no choice. But he says it with such sincerity, an emotion that is hard to get from him. His eyes linger with yours as you nod, before letting you go and returning to grading his student’s papers.
⎯ Boothill
LUDUS ; PLAYFUL LOVE. Boothill loves with his whole heart, but he just can’t take it seriously. He’s always teasing you, whether it be sultry words, little touches, anything. He loves making you blush.
Tonight, you two are at some bar he had dragged you to, and it’s quite lively. Which gives Boothill ample time to show you off, his arm around your shoulders or your waist whenever someone comes up to talk to you or him. He leans in ever so closer with that toothy grin, eyes half-lidded as he whispers something about how cute you look tonight. When he sees even the tiniest blush begin to bloom, he amps up his flirting tenfold.
Over the entire night, he makes little comments that turn into big flourishes of his love for you, small, teasing touches that trail from your shoulder down to your hands, interlocking your fingers. He leans in close and whispers against your ear, not necessarily just flirts, literally anything he can think of, like that you guys need to put soda on the grocery list or something. It’s the way his breath fans over your ear that causes goosebumps to riddle skin. You try and hide your blushing face, but he grabs your chin and tilts your head to meet his gaze, using his hat to shield your faces from the rest of the patrons and pressing a kiss to your lips.
⎯ Gallagher
PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. While Gallagher may not sound like it, he’s romantic by heart and looks for a partner he can spend his life with. He wants to settle down, enjoy something that lasts. And he prefers a partner that does the same.
He was lounging on the couch at home, a rare sight normally. When you walked into the living room, he greeted you with a lazy smile, reaching for you like he wasn’t a 30 something year old man. He grabbed your wrist and guided you into his arms with a yawn, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your scent. He lets out a deep, rumbling ‘mmm’ as he does so, sharing no other words.
Any time you try to break free from his hold, whether you wanna eat or need to go to the bathroom, he groans. He doesn’t say much, whispering quiet ‘love yous’ here and there, and if you really do have to get up, he practically follows you around. He’s rarely ever clingy, he’s probably one of the most independent people you know. He’s only like this when he has something on his mind, and marriage isn’t exactly a far off thought…
⎯ Sunday
EROS ; ROMANTIC LOVE. Sunday is a textbook romantic. A dinner and a movie, roses, have you home by ten, he’s the whole package. Anything you could want, you will have. There’s always a fresh bouquet of flowers in the vase in your living room, and perhaps a new poem for/about you every month.
Whatever he gave you in reality, he gave you tenfold in the Dreamscape (especially since he can). This includes his affection, where you two are hidden away… somewhere in Dewlight Pavillion. Somewhere where Sunday promises no one will find you two. It’s not as if you two are doing something lewd, he’s nestled up against your chest, that’s about it. But, he’s been yearning for some time alone with you since forever. With how busy he has been, he hadn’t got a moment alone with you.
“I missed you.” He states. His work is secondary to this moment, as he grabs your hand and presses a kiss to your palm, before nuzzling his cheek into it, all the while his eyes stay on yours. He has you flustered by the way he does it so desperately, yet so… carefully. He needed this, but he didn’t want to allow himself to lose his composure. So, the best he could do was steal you away when you were bringing him his mail, leave you breathless with a few tender kisses and gentle touches, and lead you back to your way out of the Pavillion.
⎯ Argenti
AGAPE ; UNIVERSAL LOVE. Love, devotion, and worship go hand in hand in hand for Argenti. He loves with his heart, body, mind, and soul. He loves unconditionally, every little bit of you, even the ground you walk on. Where the water wet your skin, where the dirt kissed your hands, he loves and loves and loves.
You two are dancing in your kitchen, to a soundless beat. The only rhythm coming from your barely-heard footsteps and the clank of Argenti’s armor as he shares such a moment with you. It is rare that he is home, always out on some adventure across star systems, but it is always a celebration when he is. Atleast, he makes it a celebration. Laughter fills the room as you try your best to keep up with his steps, the man elegant and flawless, as usual, while you stumble just a tick behind.
“You’ve got it, I know you do.” Argenti coos as you do your best to fall into his steps, still stumbling every so often. He dips you down, eyes searching yours with that content smile plastered on his face, before he pulls you up and chest-to-chest with him. His eyes sparkle with mirth, spinning you two around as if your kitchen was a real and proper ballroom, swaying gently. His eyes closed then, humming some tune, a song lost to time that only he remembered. He had hummed it on your longest days and on your darkness nights, the days you weeped and sobbed in his arms, and the days you had turned to him with such a bright smile. A tune that resembled something homely.
⎯Sampo Koski
LUDUS ; PLAYFUL LOVE. While Sampo can be quite the romantic, he prefers to tease and play with you instead. Sure, he could dance with you all night long, bring you fresh roses everyday, but where’s the fun in that? He finds it much more fitting to flirt with you on end, brag a little about his ‘sales’, splurge a little for you every now and then.
You walk into your bedroom to find Sampo laying on his side, his head propped up with his hand, a rose in his mouth. He gives you a mock-sultry glare while you stand there, dumbfounded, halfway between disgust and laughter. Rose petals decorate the bed, and the room, and you tell yourself that you’ll have to remind him later that he’ll be cleaning it up.
For now, though, he beckons you closer, and when you do, he pulls you onto the bed quickly, spitting out the rose, and peppering your face with kisses. The room fills with laughter as you do your best to break away, but he continues this torrent of kisses, rarely taking a breath. When you complain that ‘it’s too much!’ he only ups the ante, kissing your neck, your shoulder, any exposed skin he can find. You simply just have to accept your fate, now…
⎯ Jing Yuan
PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. He who has waited for an eternity yearns for an eternity spent in one’s arms. Jing Yuan has lost most of those dear to him, if not all. While he knows life will reach its end, he cannot help but wish he had someone to spend the rest of it with.
It is very rare for Jing Yuan to be free for even an hour, and yet here he was, a whole day to himself. He’s lounging in his room, basking in the sun while you lay in his arms, reading a book. You two barely share any words, yet the silence between says it all. It’s a comfortable feeling, something that feels like home, something he cherishes every second of. It’s one thing to find home within the Xianzhou, but it’s another to find home in someone’s arms.
He tilts his head as he looks down at the book your reading, contemplating if he wanted to pull your attention away from the book, or not. With a soft ‘hmph’, he makes his decision to leave you alone, choosing to nuzzle into your hair instead. You don’t react, which he doesn’t mind, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer as he closes his eyes. Perhaps an afternoon nap would do him some good…
⎯ Blade
PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. Not even death could keep Blade away from you. His own suicidal tendencies, his never-ending want to die, his need to die, his own voice begging for a means to an end, it all washes away when he sees your smile, as if the sun is greeting him once more after such a wretched eclipse.
He knows he has loved in the past, and yet when he recalls that feeling, Blade is only met with a burning feeling akin to rage clawing its way through his chest. He prefers to not think about it much, focusing on Elio’s script and whatever mission he’s been dispatched on. Yet, when he’s met with you laying in his bed, messing with his phone, waiting for him, a different kind of feeling weaves its way into his heart. Something warm, a kindling, of sorts.
His own voice quiets when he allows himself to feel that feeling, peace, perhaps? He’s quick to brush it off, shove it down along with any other emotion that was daring to well up, and takes a seat next to you. When you look up and beckon him closer, he doesn’t accept. But, he does lean in, and presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. It’s a rare display, you can’t remember the last time he even dared to hold your hand. And before you can question him, he’s gone, out of the room, leaving his phone behind, like always.
⎯ Luocha
EROS ; ROMANTIC LOVE. Luocha is quite the romantic when he wants to be. Since he spends most of his time wandering, he doesn’t get to see you very often. But when he returns home, he loves nothing more than to share stories of his travels and hold you in his arms. You are his anchor, what brings him back to reality when his thoughts drift to the distant churches and candle wicks that give way to angry flames…
He finds you sleeping on the couch, phone in hand, twitching every now and then, but making no real reaction to any sound. It was clear that you were waiting for Luocha to come home, and had succumbed to sleep. Luocha had texted you 4 days ago that he would be home, and you yourself had no idea how long you had been up, the past couple of days had skewed your perception of time. By now, it was around 3:00 am.
With a soft huff and an even softer gaze, Luocha scoops you up into his arms and carries you to your shared bed. He’s careful, doing his best to be as quiet as possible as he carries you, but you still wake up. You mutter a slurred ‘Luocha?’, and all he does is shush you, shaking his head and greeting you with a warm smile. You don’t get time to protest as he lays you down on the bed, giving you a soft kiss on your forehead, before turning on his heel and exiting the room. He will join you later, as much as he wants to lay beside you now, he’d like to get settled back in, first.
⎯ Dan Heng
PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. Dan Heng tends to retreat into himself, a lot. Ever since he revisited the Xianzhou, this has become a habit of his. He doesn’t exactly push you away, but his ‘time to think’ seems to overtake your guys’ alone time. Regardless of it all, he always comes back to you, finding home safe in your arms.
He wakes in the dead of night, his past life’s memories catching up to him once more. He doesn’t cry or scream, his breath is shallow, as he listens to the silence of the hotel you two were staying at. He stills for a moment, the scars of the past fading into a blissful nothingness, before he looks down at you. Sleeping peacefully, completely unbothered by Dan Heng’s sudden awakening.
His body relaxes as his mind quiets finally, the simple sight of you reminding him that the past is the past, and nothing more matters right now. He settles back into bed, taking a moment to admire your face, hesitantly reaching out. His fingers brush against your cheek, trailing to your hairline, tucking a strand behind your ear. You don’t even flinch, but you instinctively curl up closer to him. Dan Heng graces your sleeping form with a rare smile and a huff, before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer.
⎯ Gepard
EROS ; ROMANTIC LOVE. While Gepard may be shy about certain things, that doesn’t mean he is lacking in the romance department. His job may keep him away from you for quite a while, but he always finds his way back to you.
It had been quite a while since you and Gepard had a proper date, or even night out. Oftentimes, he’d come home late into the night, too exhausted to even eat, and all he would want to do is cuddle up next to you in bed. He loves his job, he truly does, even if it means coming home at near 2 am and waking up at 5 am. Of course he wants to spend as much time with you, but some days are harder than others, and he wants to stay as healthy as he can.
Tonight, however, he’s come home early. At 6 pm to be exact. A completely normal time to get off work… if he wasn’t the captain of the Silvermane Guards. Before you can even ask why he’s home so early, he hurriedly asks you out on a date. His face is only slightly flushed, and the minute you say yes, he lights up like the sun peeking through the clouds on a rainy day. He takes you out to one of the nicest, fanciest restaurants in Belobog, and he just cannot contain the giddy smile all throughout the night. He stares at you as if you are straight out of a movie, eyes practically shining everytime you laugh.
⎯ Caelus
LUDUS ; PLAYFUL LOVE. Caelus doesn’t take himself too seriously, even if there’s a stellaron housed inside of him. So why take love too seriously…? Not that he doesn’t love you, no, he adores you. But between all this trailblazing and saving planets and researching stellarons and what not, he doesn’t get much of a chance to be a little silly. And you, luckily, are his escape from that.
He barges into your room with the brightest smile known to man, his hair a little messy, and what you can only hope is soot dusting his cheeks and hands. Caelus looks so proud. Too proud. In his hands he holds what looks to be a worn out raccoon plushie, also blessed with a heavy dusting of soot. You stare at him blankly as he does not explain himself, simply waltzing over to your bed.
“Our son.” He states, so proudly, as if he had brought the thing into the world on his own. Desperately in need of some fun today, you play along, telling him ‘our son needs a bath.’ And Caelus looks at you as if you have offended his entire lineage (which, apparently, is two people now.) He jokingly chastises you for calling your son ‘dirty’, and “How could you say that to him!?” “He’s just a baby!”. Though, eventually after hours and hours of him threatening to put his sooty hands all over you, he washes the stuffed raccoon. And himself.
⎯ Welt
PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. Welt has seen lifetimes pass, and lifetimes more come into the universe. He’s vowed to himself to love whoever comes into his life as long as he loves, to love hard and never back down. He dreams of church bells ringing while the scent of roses fill the air, rather than the mournful gong of those ringing bells, signaling someone's end, or the bittersweet smell of lilies.
He holds you closely tonight, practically bathing in your cologne, eyes closed as he hums a tune from some far off timeline. It is a quiet, tender moment, one that is very rare between the two of you. Welt could spend all his time on the Astral Express and still never have enough time for you. He is greedy in that way, seeking any time he can with you, even if it is only for 5 minutes.
He himself doesn’t know why he’s feel especially wanting tonight, but he doesn’t busy his mind asking himself why. Time and space is infinite even as constricting as it feels, and he knows better than to keep himself occupied with such silly questions. The day he catches himself not missing you, yearning for you, is the day that he will wither into stardust.
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wife-of-all-dilfs · 6 months
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Hii! I love love love all of your finnick fics! Could I please request a fic where reader is also a victor from an earlier game and she is in an established relationship with Finnick. They both get reaped (not the same district) for the 75th games and reader gets critically hurt in the part where the cornucopia spins. Like she falls into the water after maybe being injured and she can’t swim, so Finnick has to risk everything to save her life.
I’m really looking for like a hurt/comfort with a seriously injured reader and Finnick going through hell to save her because he cannot imagine a life without her in it.
Thank you so much if you’re willing to write this or something like it, feel free of course to change anything to your liking!
two souls, one heart | f. odair
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summary: finnick refuses to lose the love of his life. your inability to swim complicates things, especially when the cornucopia begins spinning.
pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader
warnings: pre-established relationship, heavy angst, drowning, death, bone fracture
notes: thank you so much!!! i really enjoyed writing this, shed a few tears but still enjoyed it lmao. listen to 'beginning of the end movement v' by the newton brothers on repeat for the full experience <3
A quiet nursery rhyme was being sung by the water's edge.
The calm waves around the Cornucopia lapped at the rocks, the blistering sun causing the surface to sparkle. Wiress' voice interrupted Peeta as he mapped out the arena's clock-like wedges in the dirt. Everyone was focused on the map; you should have been too.
Dark blue ripples had your eyes captivated. So tranquil. So hauntingly beautiful. Loving the sea was in your blood, as your District Four was your home. You would think coming from a fishing district would mean your swimming abilities were mastered. In reality, they were practically non-existent. No matter how many times Finnick had attempted to give you lessons, they never stuck.
Neither of you seemed to care though, always too enraptured by simply being in each other's company—feeling Finnick's hands support your body as you floated on the surface...
"Don't you let go of me, Finnick Odair, or I swear to god I'll drown you."
"Will that be before or after you drown first?" he chuckled, though ultimately tightening his grip on your body in an attempt to reassure you.
....hysterically laughing when he got wiped out by a sudden wave...
"No way! I can't—" You broke into a fit of laughter— "I can't believe that just happened!"
"Are you laughing at me, sweetheart?" Finnick asked, trudging through the water towards you, his hair drenched and swept across his forehead.
"Yes!"
You doubled over, knees buckling as you struggled to contain your laughter. Despite trying to put up a serious front, Finnick too let a few chuckles slip at the hysterical sight of you.
"Oh really?"
Just like that, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down into the cold water, earning him a squeal just before you crashed together below the surface.
...and washing up on the sandy shore in each other's arms, salty lips capturing one another.
"I'm covered in sand," you murmured against Finnick's lips.
He gave you another kiss before pulling away. "It's okay," he said, pecking your lips again. "I'll help you wash off in the shower when we get back." And then sent you a stomach-flipping grin.
Even though you wouldn't trade those memories for the world, if you had known your life would soon depend on the ability to swim, you would have paid much more attention to the lessons.
Finnick stood closely beside you, his trident digging into the dirt as he gripped it tightly in case of an attack. He had noticed your drifted attention, observing the way your eyes stared at the rippling water, like death was lurking just beneath the surface waiting to drag you down to the murky depths.
He could protect you from most things in the arena, but fear was something entirely different. A trident couldn't defeat the darkness in your mind.
A hand slid onto your lower back, rubbing gentle strokes to gain your attention. Your gaze tore from the blinding blue and settled onto Finnick's face beside you, watching his mouth curve into a light smile. You knew the silent words he was trying to convey: 'You're okay, sweetheart. I've got you.'
For a fleeting moment, the anxiety had disappeared. How could anything ever go wrong with Finnick by your side? The corners of your mouth quirked, preparing to send him a smile in response. But it never came. Something new had caught your attention. The woman by the water was no longer singing.
Wiress had been murdered.
The second Katniss let her arrow fly into Gloss' chest, everything around you seemed to explode into action. Anything that could go wrong would go wrong—Murphy's Law. And it did.
The Careers had initiated an attack.
Charging forward from the waterside was Cashmere, determined to avenge her brother's death. Instinct quickly kicked in and the spear in your hand was sent barrelling through the air and into her chest. As you watched her body slump to the ground, an enraged yell came from the side.
Finnick was fighting Brutus.
With your only weapon lodged within Cashmere's chest, aiding Finnick was impossible. Enobaria revealed herself beside Brutus, displaying her vicious fangs and throwing a dagger that sliced a small cut across Finnick's shoulder. Though the wound was minor, your heart lurched as he cried out in pain.
Before a single thought in your brain could form, your legs were moving. Not towards Finnick, but after Enobaria. Remember who the real enemy is—screw that. Finnick could have died. Your Finnick. He called out your name, his voice hoarse and frayed, but you continued on, hatred fuelling each step. It seemed Katniss and Johanna had the same idea, following behind you with their weapons bared.
Salt water sprayed onto your face, but you paid it no attention. Nor did you notice as the jungle surrounding the island began to blur into one overwhelming hue of green. Only when your body was thrown to the harsh rocky terrain did you realise what was happening.
The Cornucopia had started to spin.
Nothing could compare to the terror you felt as gravity's merciless force dragged your body toward the violent waves surging against the rocks. Just as your lower legs breached the edge, a hand grabbed onto your own. Katniss. She too was hanging onto Johanna whose only lifeline was an axe buried in the rocks.
A moment—that was all you were given to scan your surroundings. Supplies and sharp-edged weapons were flying everywhere. White water was spraying into the air. Finnick, who was thirty feet away, was gripping onto a rock ledge whilst keeping Beetee from sliding into the furious waves. His head turned to the side and even from a great distance, your eyes met.
It was at that moment you knew, you just knew the odds weren't going to be in your favour. God forbid you lived a simple happy life with the man you loved, days spent together on a calm beach. God forbid the Gamemakers gave you one last chance to be in his arms. God forbid you survived.
And with that sudden realisation, the universe, sick as it was, decided it was time.
Your hand began slipping from Katniss's; an unseen tear fell from your eye, and you smiled. A smile of goodbye sent to the love of your life. His face contorted into one of agony, lips moving but you couldn't hear his voice over the roaring waves. Still, you knew exactly what he was shouting.
"NO! NO!"
There was nothing he could do but watch your body disappear into the waves, repeating over and over "no, no, no," and praying his cruel eyes had deceived him. They hadn't.
Dark blue was in every direction you looked. The undertow tossed and rolled your body like a ragdoll in a washing machine and despite your attempts to swim, the surface only seemed to be slipping further and further out of your reach. Darkness engulfed you, so thick that you couldn't tell which way was up or down. That was when the panic set in.
Your arms and legs thrashed frantically, struggling against the water's force, desperate to reach safety or an air pocket. Cold water flooded your throat as you gasped uncontrollably. You screamed as every attempt at breathing felt like fire burning in your lungs. Finnick. Where was he? Where were you? What was happening? Why wouldn't it stop?
Thoughts submerged your mind in terror, and you were powerless to stop them. All you could do was feel. Pain. Fire. Burning
At some point, the Cornucopia had ceased its spinning and your body came to a rest in the water. An eerie calm suddenly washed over you; a sense of clarity stilled your wild movements. This was the end. There was no future. No hope. The world above wasn't yours to call home anymore. You now belonged to the sea.
Of course, your water-logged mind had forgotten that home was where the heart was, and your heart was still beating... above the surface, in the aching chest of another.
Tendrils of hair floated around your face like fronds of seaweed. Rays of sunlight penetrated the surface, turning the surroundings a vibrant sparkly blue. As you sank further down, the water, now a comfortable lukewarm, cradled you in its embrace. It felt safe, like being in Finnick's arms again. Like home.
You gazed at the sun's rays; they looked beautiful. You felt beautiful. But time was running out and the bright light soon began shrouding your entire vision, though not before you witnessed a dark figure dive beneath the waves.
**********
Finnick loved the ocean. He spent most days in District Four down by the beach, swimming, spearfishing, and watching the sun rise and set on the blue horizon. If he believed in reincarnation, he would have imagined himself to be a lionfish or dolphin in his past life, living in an underwater world, free from tyranny and oppression. He loved the ocean.
But that love was incomparable to what he felt for you. So, when he dove into the rocky waters to save you and felt the currents fighting against him, he determined there was nothing he hated more than the ocean. Not as he watched its strong grip drag your motionless body further down below him.
Your back had just touched the soft seabed when he swam far enough down to envelope you in his embrace. He should have swum you back to the surface immediately, but in his distressed state, he couldn't help but foolishly stare at your lifeless appearance. Your skin was blue. It's just the water's colour, he told himself. Your eyes were closed. She's just asleep. Your neck didn't pulse under his touch. She's... She's...
He had no justification for that. Feet planted firmly on the sandy floor, he propelled both himself and you back up to the surface. As Finnick paddled back to the Cornucopia, the others reached down and helped lift your limp body onto the rocks.
"Is she...?"
"Peeta," Katniss quietly reprimanded him.
Finnick paid them no attention. He said nothing but trauma screamed in his eyes. His breathing was ragged and his hands were trembling as he frantically checked your pulse again—in both your wrists and your neck; he even pressed his ear to your chest. All he heard was the waves lapping against the rocks.
"No," he whispered again.
It seemed to be all he could say anymore. No. No, this couldn't be happening. You were just standing beside him a few minutes ago; your eyes were just looking into his. However much he tried to deny reality, it didn't seem to make it any less true. You were gone.
He choked out a rough determined breath, interlocked his hands over your chest, and began pressing repeatedly over your heart. Wet strands of tangled hair were strewn across the rocks like dead seaweed. The usual soft pink accompanying your cheeks was nowhere to be seen, devoid of any life.
"Come on, sweetheart," he muttered before pulling down your chin to blow air into your lungs. The kiss of life. And when nothing happened as he pulled away, he restarted the chest compressions. "Oh, don't do this to me," he begged, voice breaking. "Don't do this. Breathe."
Any moment now. Any moment, your eyes would flutter open, the colour would return to your glowing skin, and your heart would beat with life beneath his hands. Your lips would whisper his name and he would pull you into his arms, where he would keep you safe until the end of time.
"Breathe."
Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Nothing. He did it again. Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Silence. Maybe he should've just ripped his heart out and replaced yours with his own. Death would come for him within seconds but hearing something beating inside your chest would've made the sacrifice worth it.
Life would flash before his eyes and your beaming smile would be the last thing he'd get to see. His last thought would be of relief that you were alive.
Johanna rested a tentative hand on Finnick's shoulder. "Finnick, she's—"
"No, she's not!" he exclaimed, continuing his movements. "She's fine. Aren't you, baby? You're fine." He cupped your jaw, his thumb stroking your soft skin before he pressed his lips to yours and blew twice. "You're fine."
The golden bangle around his wrist glimmered in the sunshine as he pressed on your ribcage. All he had to do was keep you alive until Plutarch rescued everyone. One simple task and he failed.
"Finnick, we have to go," someone said. Who? He didn't know nor care.
Leave me, he wanted to say. Leave me here to die. Let the Careers mutilate my body, take my life, my last breath, but let it be by her side.
Something cracked beneath his palms and he knew one of your ribs had fractured. His arms stilled, half-expecting you to cry out in pain but then he remembered. And with that sickening crack came a devastating realisation—you really were gone.
A sob erupted from his throat and his head fell to your chest, drenching your already-soaked wetsuit with hot tears. Everything else seemed to disappear. The arena, the Careers who could attack again at any moment, the spectators who were avidly watching. Everything.
It was just him and you. He didn't care that his screams and deafening sobs could bring unwanted attention or jeopardise the group's safety. Any tribute with half a mind would know crossing him in such a state would be a fatal flaw. Even if they did, it wouldn't matter. Nothing mattered. Life no longer had meaning.
Finnick pulled your lifeless body onto his lap and cradled you protectively in his arms, lightly rocking back and forth. His forehead rested against your own, cold and damp. You always were the cold one, needing his touch to light a fire beneath your skin. He loved having you rely on him for warmth, but not like this.
"Come back to me, baby, please," he begged almost inaudibly. Tears were running down his cheeks as he brushed pieces of hair away from your face. His lips were on yours once more, heartbroken and painfully delicate; not to fill your lungs with air, but to fill your heart with his love in the hopes it would be enough to bring it back to life. "Don't leave me."
Pleas, prayers, begs, and wishes flew past his lips, over and over. And then they stopped and Finnick simply stared. Silence fell across the entire arena. The birds didn't chirp, the other tributes remained quiet, and the trees stood still. Even the water had calmed, resembling a perfectly flat mirror.
Finnick only had three words left on his tongue. Three final words to give you, wherever it was that you were. He slowly leaned down, squeezed his stinging eyes shut, and pressed a long farewell kiss to your forehead. His eyes remained closed as he parted from your skin, unable to take another look as he whispered his final goodbye.
"I love you."
And then, for the first time since he had rescued you from the blue depths, he felt his heart beating again. Just like yours was.
**********
There was a voice, distant yet reassuring—a lifeline to consciousness. Black was all there was. Coldness was all that was felt. It was desolate. But that voice... that voice was so anguished yet so familiar and encouraging that it lit a fire inside your chest, warming you from the inside out.
In the distance of the dark void was a figure, their body made entirely out of a pulsating golden light. Each word the voice spoke enhanced the light's brightness. "Come... me, please..." Brighter. "Don't leave..." And brighter.
The light was warm and comforting, just like the voice attached to it. Whoever's voice it was that brought the light resonated deep in your mind, tugging at the strings within your heart.
Your heart.
The thumping in your chest was weak, almost non-existent, but it was still there. Though it seemed time was running out. Pitch-black darkness outweighed the golden light ten-to-one; you could feel its cold breath creeping onto your back. So, you started running towards the figure. Sprinting. Until all that surrounded you was golden.
"I love you."
Water. At first, it came trickling out in two fluid streams from the sides of your mouth. Then suddenly, it was spraying into the air as choked coughs forced the liquid from your burning lungs. Light flooded your vision—not golden and inviting, but vivid and overwhelming.
There was something warm beneath your legs, against your arm, rubbing at your back, holding you in an upright position. While you heaved, dry-retched, and gasped, that soothing warmth remained.
As your airways began to clear and the expulsion of water ceased, your half-lidded eyes rolled around the area. Still dazed and disoriented, you struggled to make out what surrounded you. There was immense rippling blue, vibrant hues of green in the distance, dark rough grey beneath you, and elongated blobs of colour that stood a few feet away.
"Just–just keep breathing, sweetheart." That voice. The one belonging to the figure of light that brought you back. It was madly repeating the same words over and over. "You're okay", "Deep breaths", and "You're alive."
Shaky fingers brushed the stray wet strands of hair from your face. So warm. With the little energy you had, your head turned to seek out the golden light again. And you found it.
The blinding sun shining down reflected off his bronze hair, turning it a divine golden hue. His brows were raised and scrunched together as though he couldn't possibly believe what he was seeing. Deep lines were etched into his tear-streaked skin, evidence of his previous turmoil. Those sea-green eyes stared at you, afraid that if he so much as blinked, you would fall lifeless in his arms once more.
"You're here," he whispered.
Finnick. YourFinnick. Your light.
When your eyes met, a splitting grin lit up his face, made up of an inconceivable amount of raw emotion. You weren't sure what to do—smile, laugh, cry, kiss him? Your mind was scrambled, overwhelmed with love for the beautiful golden-haired man in front of you.
Without warning, your face scrunched up and the tears began flowing. You weren't sure why you were crying. Maybe it was because you had just been brought back from the brink of death; maybe it was because you couldn't believe someone actually cared so deeply about you.
Finnick cradled your face in his hand. "It's okay," his voice trembled, tears now cascading down his cheeks. His smile, however, never disappeared. "You're okay. You're safe now. I'm not letting you go."
He took your face into two large hands, brought you to his lips, and pressed a tender kiss to each tear that rolled over your skin. One of your hands rested over his; the other was placed against his chest, feeling it rise and fall so you could synchronise your breaths.
His arms moved to pull you tightly against him, almost like he was trying to merge your body with his. Or perhaps, it was your soul. You didn't care about the pain aching in one of your ribs. You wanted to tell him that his soul was already intertwined with your own, but words couldn't describe the sentiment as profoundly as you felt it.
In the simplest of terms your water-logged brain could muster, you whispered, "You're my light, Finnick."
Brows scrunched together, he looked down at you, fighting back the urge to start sobbing in your arms. If he had been anywhere else, if there wasn't an entire country watching, he would've gone on for hours, explaining how stupidly, selfishly, and incredibly in love with you he was.
But he couldn't do that. Not now. So, he placed his hand over the one you had resting on his chest and readjusted its position. He could feel the thumping, even through your palm.
Your eyes were full of emotion as you stared up into his. You already knew what his next words were going to be and for the first time since you were thrown into the water from the Cornucopia, you smiled.
Rhythmically, your hand and his pulsed together. Finnick's gaze flickered across your face and he grinned. "You're my heart."
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emphistic · 1 month
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Can I request reader being really sick and baby Yuji being really worried about her while Sukuna is trying to take care of her?
A/N: hope the ppl who voted for this in the poll are happy 😡😡 — i feel betrayed because yall didnt choose the other one
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If someone who personally knew the three of you walked in right now, they would probably laugh at the current sight. Others would be surprised or confused. But little Yuuji was neither of those things. He was utterly adorably worried and concerned — for you. His little heart couldn't comprehend that you were only sick and would eventually recover. In other words, Yuuji is scared you'll die and never come back.
Then, who will tell him bedtime stories?
Then, who will kiss him goodnight and good morning?
Then, who will hold his hand while walking?
Then, who will coddle and pamper him?
Then, who will?
These were all questions Yuuji could not and would not like to answer.
But Sukuna — being way older than his brother — knew better, and he knew this was nothing too serious. But again, Yuuji couldn't comprehend that.
“Don't make me say it again, sweetheart. Now, open,” Sukuna held out the medicine for you to drink.
“Nuh uh,” you crossed your arms over your chest, backing up into the pillows behind you on the bed. You tried to stifle a cough, but you failed.
“I will pry open your mouth and shove this down your throat. Now, drink.”
You groaned, yet still obeyed. The fluid felt hot and cold simultaneously as you swallowed it.
Sukuna ruffled your hair, “See? Wasn't so bad, was it?” He retrieved the now empty cup from your hands and left the bedroom, probably walking to the kitchen to wash it, you assumed.
Yuuji turned to look at you with big glittery eyes. “I—I don't wan’ you to die. I don't wan’ you to go . . . like Grandpa.” Yuuji’s bottom lip trembled, he didn't want to cry — not in front of you, at least. He wanted to appear manly, brave, just like his brother.
You were quite taken aback at this, did he seriously think a cold could kill you? “Yuuji, come here,” you said, your tone soft.
Yuuji instantly crawled into bed — not without struggling a bit at first — and snuggled into your side, holding onto your hoodie with a white-knuckled grip.
“I will never ever leave you, Yuuji. So don't you worry your cute little head off about it, okay?” You booped him on the nose, emitting a squeal from the boy before he curled up impossibly closer to your body. You wiped away his tears.
“Y’know, I'm not going to die anytime soon. You can't get rid of me that easily.”
Yuuji fervently nodded, not fully believing you but still hopeful, nevertheless. “Yay!”
Yuuji was sad that you wouldn't be able to drive him to school that morning, but he knew you were tired. Plus, he overheard his older brother telling you that sleeping would be good for you, and the boy only wanted the best for you. So Yuuji accepted the fact, though still a little upset about it.
But when he came home from school, Yuuji ran straight to your side, where you were sitting on the couch.
“Y/N!” Yuuji jumped into your lap and gave you the biggest big bear hug a toddler could possibly give.
“Hi there, Yuuji,” you replied, before coughing. “Did you have fun at school?”
“Yeah! It was so fun.” You let him ramble and babble to you about his day, while running your fingers through his pink locks.
“That sounds like you had a really good day, Yuuji.”
“It would have been better if you were there with me, though,” Yuuji mumbled into your shirt.
You giggled at the boy, “Sorry about that, Yuuji.”
“‘tis okay!”
Yuuji snuggled into your sweater, enjoying the warmth from your body. He almost fell asleep from your massaging his scalp, but then he remembered something and gasped, jumping off of your lap.
You raised a brow, albeit not bothering to ask — your throat felt itchy. You unpaused the TV and continued watching your show. Halfway through, Sukuna decided to join you on the couch, pulling you into his side and resting your head on his shoulder.
“Feeling any better?”
“Sorta.” You coughed. “My throat kinda hurts, though.”
You rested your head on Sukuna's shoulder as the both of you watched the actors on the screen, occasionally making small talk here and there.
Minutes later, a screaming, hollering, laughing little Yuuji ran into the living room, making both your heads whip towards him.
“It is I! Dr. Yuuji Itadori! Don't worry, Y/N. I am here to help you not be . . . um, sick — anymore!” Yuuji climbed onto the couch and inserted himself in between you and Sukuna.
Yuuji was dressed in a white doctor’s coat, and had a stethoscope hanging around his neck. A toy thermometer was also in his hand.
Quickly discarding the thermometer, throwing it aside — onto a protesting Sukuna’s lap — Yuuji put the back of his palm against your forehead. And though he didn't understand what he was doing, he attempted to copy his brother, who he had seen frequently do that in order to check you for a fever.
Speaking of said brother, Sukuna got up from the couch and walked to the kitchen.
“Hmmmm!” Yuuji pulled a clipboard out of his pocket and messily scribbled down illegible words onto the sheet of paper. Then, he placed his clipboard down and grabbed ahold of his stethoscope, pressing it onto your heart and listening to it beat.
Out of the blue, a hand roughly pushed the doctor aside, and Yuuji fell off of the couch and onto the carpet. “Out of my way, pipsqueak. Y/N needs her medicine.”
“‘Kunaaaa,” Yuuji whined from the floor. “She was getting her check-up.”
You covered your mouth, muffling your giggles. “Yeah, babe. You interrupted Dr. Yuuji.”
Sukuna grimaced, scrunching up his face. “Doctor? Since when?”
“Since he was born, silly! Yuuji is a prodigy, isn't that right, sweetie?” You picked up the toddler and set him onto his lap, he immediately went to rub his face in your chest.
A muffled ‘yes’ came out from him, though he didn't even know what he was agreeing to.
Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @lich1 @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside
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shewroteaworld · 8 months
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I'll Hold Your Weight When You Can't
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Premise: Brilliant sunshine!reader gets heat stroke on a case. Your best friend, Spencer Reid, is predictably worried about you. What he doesn't expect is to be forced to come to terms with his feelings for you.
Word count: approx. 3,200
TW: Brief mention of vomit and, perhaps, hospitals
(Y/N/N): Your nickname
Author's Note: Super excited to introduce brilliant sunshine!reader (aka, super smart sunshine!reader) onto my fanfic writing scene! Definitely willing to write more of her in the future if anyone is interested. Hope you enjoy!
“Does anybody have more water?”
“Where is the damn ambulance?”
Perhaps your job classically conditioned you to respond to Hotch’s “I’m seriously not fucking around” tone because your eyes crack open. 
Someone put weights on your eyelids and cranked the sun to extra-bright. The harsh rays burned your retinas and washed everything in a white blur. Did someone set off a flash bang?
“(Y/N)? Can you hear me?” Miraculously, out of the screeching white, you made out JJ’s halo of blonde hair. 
“JJ?” You groaned. Even though you could barely see, it felt like the whole world was spinning, 
“Hotch, she’s coming around!” You recognized Morgan’s voice. “Welcome back to the world of the living, honey. We’re happy to see you.”
Your heart rate spiked. You never died. Did you die? 
“Yes, we still need a medic!” Hotch barked. 
You winced. “Wha?” Suddenly, your mouth couldn’t handle a one-syllable world. Even more alarming, your brain, the same brain that kept up with Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid,  couldn’t understand what the hell was going on.
 “What I do?” You whined. 
“He’s not yelling at you, honey,” JJ said like a kindergarten teacher. “You’re just a little out of it right now.”
“Is she conscious?” Another voice entered. Your head spun. “I brought more water.” 
You moaned to suppress a gag. Your eyelids drooped, and you relished in the break from the light.
“Hey, smarty pants, stay with us.” Morgan pat your cheek. “Let Emily get some water in you.” You couldn’t force your eyes open more if you tried.
Your friend Emily. That’s who the voice belonged to. 
Suddenly, JJ pulled your hair from your face, Morgan lifted your head, and Emily forced a water bottle to your lips simultaneously.  The blinding glare seared your eyes and your head spun. You wanted to sob and maybe vomit.
Your chest hitched with a shallow inhale. “Stop.” You whined.
“(Y/N), it’s okay. Take a deep breath.” JJ said.
“No!” You exclaimed.
“Honey–” Morgan tried. 
You thrashed against his hold, but your exhausted muscles couldn’t throw Morgan’s gentlest grip. 
“Maybe we should let her go.” Emily said.
“She needs water.” JJ countered.
“She’s disoriented.” Hotch cut in. “Let her get her bearings first, but don’t let her close her eyes.”
Gingerly, Morgan lay your body back on the grass. Your head swam, and your vision rippled as if you could see the heat waves in the California air. You tried to take a deep breath but choked.  
You sputtered. Every inhale led to a series of dry coughs. In your delirium, you thought of Spencer. Your Spencer. Where the hell was he? Did he not love you anymore?
Suddenly, Hotch loomed over you. His tall frame blocked out the brutality of the sun’s glare, which eased your headache and nausea but not your cough. His eyebrows were so deeply furrowed they formed a trench of wrinkles across his forehead. “Check her airway.” 
Suddenly, you stared into JJ’s blue eyes. Other hands tried to manipulate your body. You jerked.
“(Y/N), relax.”
“Honey, please–”
“Turn her on her side!” Morgan’s cut off by Reid, his voice sharper than you’d ever heard. 
***
Spencer Reid has survived many traumatic situations. 
He's cared for his schizophrenic mother. He’s been kidnapped. He recovered from a drug addiction. And those are just a few items from his dissertation-length “PTSD-Causing Experiences” list. 
But many of his worst traumas were a by-product of being a profiler– a job which allowed him to utilize his intellect to help others. He was willing to accrue trauma like Pokemon cards in exchange for applying his genetic gifts to create a safer world. 
Reid could have framed your heat exhaustion as another scare in the line of duty. But when Reid saw you, his brilliant girl, on the ground, his heart fell through his feet.
Then, he saw how his the team responded to your medical emergency.
When he witnessed you coughing and writhing on your back as the team leered over with water, he thought he might explode.
You could be asphyxiating, and the team could be letting you choke while forcing more fluid down your throat. 
He shivered as he sprinted down the steps of the local precinct and onto the grassy field where you lay. 
“Turn her on her side!” He yelled as diagnoses and courses of action fled through his mind on hyperspeed.
“We’re trying, she—”
“Spence?” You choked out through a coughing fit. He’s surprised his ears caught it.
Reid knelt next to you. “Let’s get you into recovery position.” He said, his voice suddenly soft as clouds. Reid gingerly pushed you onto your left side. “Off your back, there we go.” He bent your right leg and slid it in front of your body to prevent you from rolling onto your stomach if you lost consciousness. 
“Did she faint?” Reid asked the team. He couldn’t take his eyes from your face. 
“We think so. She was dizzy, so she laid on the ground. Then she was unresponsive for at least 40 seconds,” Emily said. 
Spencer pressed the back of his hand to your forehead. Predictably, you were feverishly hot. “She’s burning up. Has someone called an ambulance?”
“Allegedly.” Hotch said, an edge to his voice. 
“We have, sir. They’re on their way.” A local police officer responded, exasperated.
Spencer’s eye twitched. “How long has she been down?” You whined, and he stroked your cheekbone with his thumb.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He whispered. 
“In total, 15 minutes.” Hotch supplied. “Emily, pour some more water on her.”
“This was for her to drink.”
“Use one bottle to pour on her face and neck.” Spencer said. “I ran and got Gatorade. She should start with sips of that when she can swallow. Heat stroke can also be caused by salt depletion.” 
Spencer was conversing with a local officer over the safety protocols in the area when a pair of policemen walked into the precinct, gossiping about the FBI agent who “folded fast in the southern Cali heat.”
Spencer’s jaw had clenched. Maybe one of his team members was ill since they put in most of the grunt work to catch the unsub. He would’ve been more annoyed if not for the worry gnawing at his brain. What if they were talking about (Y/N)? She looked a little shaky right after her chase with the unsub, but Spencer didn’t get a chance to ask his friend if she was alright. And, stupidly enough, he forgot to text her to check if she drank any water post-case. Quickly, Reid excused himself, grabbed a Gatorade from the fridge, and rushed to the field where your limp body trembled on the grass. 
“I’m going to pour some water on you, honey," Emily said. You flinched as the frigid water hit your hairline. 
“Breathe, relax.” Spencer said, shielding your nose. The last thing you needed was some accidental waterboarding.
Seconds after the water drenched your forehead, your whole body relaxed into the grass. “That felt good.” You smiled weakly. 
Spencer stroked your arm. “Let’s sit you up in a minute, okay? You should try some Gatorade before the EMTs get here.”
“EMTs? I’m fine.” You whined.
Spencer didn’t think it was possible for his eyebrows to crease further. 
“You’re not fine.” Gentler, he said, “and it’s okay not to be fine, sunlight.”
“But, I’m alive.” You tried to roll onto your stomach, but your bent leg kept you safe on your back.
Some on the team members chuckled, but Spencer didn’t find your delirium humorous. “I know you’re alive, sweetie. But you’re way too hot. I think you’re a little confused right now.”
“I’m just…” You winced. “I’m alive.”
The knot in Spencer’s chest tightened ten-fold. This could be heat stroke. At the very least, you had heat exhaustion. You were dehydrated. You were delirious. 
Best case scenario: you were ill for a few days. Worst case scenario: You had vital organ damage.
Just as he’s about to call 911 himself, JJ interrupted him. “Look–ambulance lights. Help is on the way, honey.”
“You hear that, (Y/N)? You’re gonna be fine.” Morgan said. If only Spencer felt that confident. 
“Spence…” You blocked your eyes from the light with your limp right hand. “I’m scared. I don’t feel well.” 
“Oh, (Y/N), I know.” He cupped your shoulder and hoped you could feel his love for you through his palm. That sent a jolt down his spine. He wasn’t supposed to comfortably think those thoughts about you.
You were sick. This wasn’t the time. He leaned over your body. He gave you plenty of breathing room, but his torso was  parallel to your hip so his eyes could meet your watering ones. “Hey, take a breath for me, Smartie.” 
Your nickname for him slipped from his tongue so easily it spooked him. Suddenly, he noticed his thumb stroking over your cotton t-shirt. He should stop. The whole team was watching. He was being was too intimate; he'd face stupid quips from Morgan for days. He kept stroking anyway.
He observed your chest rise and fall. Your breaths were shaky but deeper. He relaxed a tad. Vital oxygen was reaching your bloodstream.
“(Y/N), can we try something?” Spencer asked.
“Yes. Maybe. What is it?”
The knot in his chest loosened. You responded immediately and with more than two words; you were becoming more lucid. 
“Can you sit up and have some sips of Gatorade? I got your favorite flavor. At least, if your favorite flavor hasn’t changed from three years ago.” It most likely hadn’t. Once your opinion settled, it was frustratingly hard to erode your verdict. 
“I can’t…I don’t know.”
“I know sitting up is hard. I’ll help you. And I’ll prop you against my chest. I’ll hold your weight when you can’t.”
“KK, Spence.” Your childlike tone tugged at his heart strings.
Spencer and Morgan lifted your limp body from the ground. They manhandled you into a sitting position with your head propped on Spencer’s shoulder and your body tucked between his thighs. 
One of his arms stabilized you while the other raised a cold bottle of orange Gatorade to your lips.
After nine sips of Gatorade, you spoke again. 
“Orange.” You took another sip. "My favorite.”
He smiled into your hair. “When have I ever lied to you, (Y/N/N)?”
***
Spencer nearly created a crater in the linoleum floor of the ER waiting room with his bouncing heel by the time the doctor came back with an update. 
“She had a mild case of heat stroke. We currently have her on fluids, and she’ll need lots of rest for at least the next week.” Doctor Bahamani concluded. 
“No signs of metabolic dysfunction? Any respiratory distress?” Reid checked. 
Doctor Bahamani smiled knowingly. “She’s going to be just fine, Doctor Reid.”
“Can I see her?” Spencer asked. 
“Yes. Only two at a time, please.” 
Spencer didn’t care who volunteered with him. He moved without thinking. An outpouring of gratitude for his eidetic memory flooded him. Through the thickest brain fog, he could trust his recollection of the hospital to bring him to the correct hospital room.
The security staff practically had to drag him away from your bedside after the ambulance ride. They might have thrown him out of the ER if not for the flash of his FBI badge.
Something nagged at him as he sped past the nursing station. 
You were going to be fine. The ER doctor confirmed it. Yet his heart was still pounding and he could barely refrain from running. Even more odd, he wasn’t ashamed of his irrational behavior. 
So what if a doctor deemed you were okay? It was you. And he saw you groggier and more out of it than you'd ever been. And who knows how thorough the doctors were with their examination? It was completely reasonable to worry for one of his closest friends. 
He just couldn't believe you were alright until he checked you over with his own hands and his own eyes.
***
When you grinned at him from your cot, Spencer wasn’t sure whether to smile or cry.
Tears glazed your eyes. But, your gorgeous smile was back. 
“Spencer?” You asked, brow raised and head cocked. 
He’d been staring too long. He looked like an idiot, lamely standing in the doorway as if he were the one with heat stroke.
“Straighten your head. Your neck is probably tight.”
You smiled, but this time it was tight-lipped and painful-looking. “You’re too worried.”
He watched saline drip down your IV. “Of course I’m worried, (Y/N). You got heat stroke.” With a deep breath as a shot of courage, he sat in the chair by the head of your bed.
There was nothing odd about sitting with his best friend at the hospital. 
His chest twisted at “best friend” and his resolve collapsed. He couldn’t deny it anymore. 
He liked you. He really, really liked you. He actually might even–
“Luckily, I got out pretty unscathed.” You snapped Spencer out of his spiral. “A little dehydrated. Achy. Might feel sick for a few days.”
“Or weeks.” Spencer corrected.
“Trying to look on the bright side here, Doctor.” You smirked and Spencer swore his right ventricle tightened.
Then, your nose scrunched and Spencer's wiped clean of any concern about his cardiac health. 
“What hurts?”
“Just a little achy, Spencer. I’m alright.” 
He shot you a look. He knew all your excuses. He knew you went to self-harming lengths to not worry people. 
“You’re not alright.” He reached for the red nurse-call button. 
Your eyes widened in surprise. “Okay…my body aches, Spence. And the IV burns. But they’ve already told me that’s normal. No need to take nurses away from an emergency.”
The nurses at the station desk didn’t appear to be rushing around for anyone, but Spencer feared this wouldn’t behoove his case. 
“They can give you pain medication, if you want.”
You hesitated, and immediately Spencer pressed the button. When you smiled weakly instead of bickering, his worry grew tenfold but not without a rush of heat flooding his entire body. 
In Morgan's words, he’s down bad. 
“How are you doing, sunshine?” As if he’d been summoned, Morgan appeared in the doorway. 
Spencer stepped back from your cot. The part of him riled from Morgan’s “sunshine” moniker wants to shove his hand into yours. Spencer thought he hid his annoyance well, but something about Morgan's smirk told him otherwise.
“Um…”
Morgan’s smirk fell. “You feel that bad, huh?”
You chuckled sadly. “Do I look that shitty or am I an open book today?”
“You never look shitty,” Spencer said. A tsunami of blood rushed to his face.
“Anyway,” Morgan said, “Do you want anything, Beauty Queen? I can grab you some jello.” 
“Jello sounds nice.” You said, and something in your voice was so vulnerable and naive Spencer wanted to wrap you in his arms as tight as he could. Which was illogical. That would only hurt you further. 
He shook his head as if that would remove the thoughts from his mind. “I’m gonna see if I can check up on your labs at the nurse’s station. I’ll make sure they’re giving you the good drugs.” He smiled.
You laughed– a genuine laugh– and Spencer’s heart soared. “Thanks, Spence.”
“I’ll go grab your jello,” Morgan said.
“Hold on, you should stay with her just in case she needs anything," Spencer said.
“I’ll be fine, Spence.” You said, but Spencer was not prepared to take "no" for an answer.
“If you boys wants to run her some errands, I’ll stay.” Emily stood in the doorway. “JJ is coming soon too– she just got a phone call from a very frantic Penelope.”
Your nose crinkled. “Oh no.” You groaned, but you were smiling. 
“Oh, yes. Be prepared for some mother henning," Emily said.
“Garcia can’t be any more mother henning than Reid," Morgan said. 
Before his face could turn redder than a baboon’s bottom, Spencer fled.
He’s only two yards from the nursing station when Morgan intercepted him at the end of the hall. 
“So, you’re going to make your move, right?”
Spencer's body temperature plummeted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He tried to shoulder past Morgan, but he was no match for his grip strength. “Reid, c’mon. You like (Y/N).”
Part of him wanted to laugh. “Like” seemed too simple of a word to describe the symphony of feelings (Y/N) started in him. “It’s…” He’s too tongue-tied to lie. “It’s complicated.”
You’re brilliant. You’re beautiful. You’re brimming with empathy. You’re everything Spencer could want. And it scared the shit out of him. Because that meant there’s even more to lose. And if he lost you, there would be no one to blame but himself. It was better for his psyche to not go there with you– to step back from the line rather than risk what would happen if he failed to make it work in the end. 
And what if you got hurt? What is you fell in the line of duty? Or worse, what if someone targeted you because of your romantic tie to him? Spencer's already experienced the pain of losing a soulmate-- a concept he wasn't even sure he believed in-- once. He wasn't not sure if he could survive it a second time.
There was too much unpredictability in his life. He chose a dangerous profession. He was gifted a ticking time-bomb of dangerous genes. He’d never forgive himself if he inflicted onto you the pain he’s been through; losing loved ones, whether through death or mental illness. 
Morgan's expression turned sympathetic. “Reid, you should give it a shot. Our lives our hectic. And if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you.”
Spencer blinked to block tears from welling. “I just want her to be happy, too.”
“And who says you don't make her happy?”
“His idiotic genius brain.” Rossi appeared from around the corner.
Spencer froze. “You heard?” His face flushed yet again.
“Just the tail end. But Reid…” He trailed off.
Morgan took the hint. “I’m going to get (Y/N) some jello. With my charm, I could negotiate for some whipped cream.” 
“Don’t get whipped cream on it. She’s lactose sensitive,” Spencer said.
Morgan's stupid smirk reappeared. “Gotcha, Reid.”
Rossi took Morgan's place. Once Morgan was out of sight, he began his speech. “You love her. Don’t get in your own way.” Rossi put his hand on Reid’s shoulder. “And (Y/N) is an incredibly intelligent woman. Don’t insult her intelligence by thinking she can’t decide who is or is not worth taking a risk. And for what it’s worth…a man like you is worth the risk.” 
Rossi left Reid staring at his back. 
For the longest time, Reid convinced himself he refrained from asking you out to protect you from himself and his hefty baggage. And that’s not completely untrue. 
But suddenly, he realized he was primarily trying to protect himself from exposing his vulnerabilities to you this whole time. There’s never been a person whose opinion affected him like yours. There's never been a life he's wanted to protect more except perhaps...Maeve.
But just like it’s up to you to decide who’s worth the risk, it’s up to him to decide as well.
And if today taught him anything, shit happens. And if you slip through his fingers, he doesn't want it to because he wasn't brave enough to make a first move.
And being your person was more than worth the risk of rejection.
Author's Note: Thank you to so much to everyone who stuck around through my hiatus! I appreciate every single one of you! You're super cool :)
Happy to be back! Inbox is open to chat about writing and take requests! Please check pinned "Blurb Requests" post before requesting! (Will update the post as my boundaries update!)
Have an awesome day or night, wherever you are in this crazy world. I am incredibly thankful you spent part of your precious life reading something I penned.
Forever grateful,
shewroteaworld
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starglitterz · 5 months
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♡ SPICY. // PART TWO
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❝ tell me what you see when you look at me, 'cause i am a ten out of ten, honestly. ❞ // attractive things the genshin men do <3
✧ feat ; albedo, dainsleif, gorou, itto, kazuha, lyney, neuvillette, scaramouche, tighnari, zhongli x gn!reader
✧ warning(s) ; fluff, suggestive, (kinda???) modern au for itto, extremely suggestive for itto + neuvi
✧ a/n ; woahhh it's been like ten thousand years since the release of part one but here's part 2 finally ! i doubt anyone was actively waiting for this LOL but regardless i hope you enjoy it!
part one︱part two
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✦ as an alchemist, you’d expect ALBEDO to always be in a white lab coat stained with all manner of chemicals, but he’s the opposite – he’s always dressed to the nines in formalwear, with his trademark coat layered on top of it to keep him from freezing in dragonspine. he only ever removes it when he’s visiting you in mondstadt. in the quiet of your peaceful apartment, albedo will be busy preparing dinner, and you feel like a starving victorian man when you see him roll his sleeves up, exposing the rare sight of his pale wrists. his fingers are long and slender too, but there’s something about the way the white fabric of his dress shirts clings to his forearms, emphasising his lean muscle and making you wonder if you’re drooling. you’re pretty sure he’s caught you staring way too many times, but he always just gives you a soft smile – he can’t understand why you’d admire him like this when you’re the one he’s always believed to be a masterpiece.
✦ dating DAINSLEIF is a quiet affair. he’s not one for over-the-top gestures or grand proclamations of his love, but he never fails to make it known that he absolutely adores you with his whole heart. between the two of you, you’re the one who always talks more, always chattering away endlessly about your latest fancy. but no matter what you’re prattling on about, dainsleif will always tilt his head and gaze at you as if you’re giving a speech on the most interesting topic in the world. he’ll even have a small smile gracing his lips, his usually stern expression now softening into one far more gentle. he’ll even nod and ask all the right questions, proving that he was paying attention the entire time. and if you ever feel guilty for talking so much, he’ll instantly reassure you that your voice is music to his ears, and if he could he’d listen to it forever. 
✦ some days, it’s like GOROU can’t even believe he’s dating you. he’s just so adorable, getting incredibly flustered whenever you even breathe in his direction. his face turns bright red and he starts stumbling over his words, barely able to string together words into coherent sentences. or if by some miracle he manages to keep his composure, his tail is a dead giveaway – it’ll be wagging at the speed of light whenever you praise him. you could be doing the most mundane tasks like laundry or washing dishes, and he’d still look at you with heart eyes as if you hung the very stars in the sky. 
✦ without a doubt, ITTO has no clue how attractive he is. once you move in together, he’ll just always walk around shirtless, even though you squeal in surprise whenever you see him. i mean c’mon, who could blame you? the oni is ripped thanks to all the hours he spends at the gym, and when you see his muscles flexing, showing off the gleaming red tattoos illustrated across his back and torso, you have to excuse yourself because you swear you’re seriously about to start barking. to make things worse, he always pairs it with those stupid baggy grey sweatpants that make you actually want to pounce on him – it’s always a struggle to keep your eyes on his face. you’re beginning to think he knows the effect though, because you always end up in the bedroom together when he wears them. 
✦ KAZUHA is the type of boyfriend who adores casual skinship. wherever you are, he’ll always find some way to touch you – whether it’s an arm wrapped around your waist, his head leaning on your shoulder, his fingers intertwined with yours… the list is endless. but his absolute favourite has to be when you wear shorts. one of his hands somehow always ends up on your thigh, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin. it isn’t necessarily heated, it’s just comforting for him to know you’re there beside him. but you’re aware of his intentions whenever he starts doing it under the table in public, merely tilting his head to give you a playful smirk and a wink that’s imperceptible to anyone else. 
✦ the entirety of fontaine knows that LYNEY is a flirtatious rascal. yet with you, he thinks he’s met his match. the two of you are constantly bantering, attempting to outdo one another in gifts and pick-up lines and dates – lynette says you both are more like competitors than partners. however, it’s just the way the both of you show affection. but there’s one move that LYNEY knows will always guarantee him the win. you’ll be chattering away, planning out your next date, and suddenly his magician hands are at your waist, fingers slipping into your belt loops to tug you closer before pressing a mischievous kiss on your lips. your shocked and flustered expression always makes his day. 
✦ as the iudex of fontaine, it makes sense that NEUVILLETTE is not one for tomfoolery. but when it comes from you, he always seems to accept whatever pranks or teasing you throw his way. but sometimes, if you’re acting up too much in public, all it takes is one look from him to set you back in line. his dark blue eyes narrow as he glances at you, lifting one brow as if to ask if you’re really willing to keep going like this. that decision is up to you – will you continue misbehaving, crossing the line to see just what he’ll do? or will you be good and quiet down in the hopes that he’ll reward you? 
✦ everybody knows that SCARAMOUCHE is a brat. that doesn’t change when he somehow becomes your boyfriend. he likes pushing your buttons, always wondering when you’re going to tip over the edge. even just simple requests will prompt him to reply ‘“oh yeah?” “make me.” “mhmm.”’ and it drives you up the wall. not just because it’s annoying, but also because it’s strangely attractive to see the way he raises his eyebrow and leans back in his seat, a smug smirk playing about his lips. but fear not, the easiest way to get him to behave is just by grabbing his collar and pulling him into a kiss. he’ll be so surprised that he’ll instantly go do whatever you told him to just so that you don’t see his blushing face.
✦ it’s 100% a green flag when men are willing to explain things to you instead of assuming you wouldn’t be able to grasp the concept, and TIGHNARI is a shining example of this. as the chief of the forest rangers, he’s extremely well-versed on everything related to sumeru’s jungles, and this extends to skills outside of foraging, as he’s also talented at cooking and preparing medicines. if you’re curious or eager to learn, he’ll always explain it to you in a way that makes it easy for you to understand, and even if you don’t, he’s very patient, and will answer every single one of your questions no matter how dumb you may think they are until you get it. seeing the proud smile on his face once you successfully achieve whatever he taught you is more than enough incentive for you to rush to learn even more from your beloved boyfriend.
✦ ZHONGLI is the type of lover that comes once in a millenia (which is probably how long he’s been alive too). he’s the whole package; sweet, caring, smart, not to mention handsome! (the only problem is that he’s constantly broke…) you’re lucky to have him as your boyfriend, and the first time you realised this was when the two of you were walking through a busy crowd in liyue’s bustling harbour while trying to run some errands. upon sensing your discomfort at how the strangers were unintentionally jostling you and bumping into the two of you, ZHONGLI wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him to put more space between you and everyone else walking past. once the crowd thins out, he’ll guide you with his hand on the small of your back, the warmth a gentle reminder that he’ll always be there for you. 
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yeah sorry i deserve to be sent to horny jail for some of these 😭 HAHAHA js be glad cyno was in part one bc the things i want to do to that man... Unspeakable
© starglitterz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way – reblog / follow if you enjoyed !
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beforeimdeceased · 7 months
Note
hey bae! if you’re still taking requests could i please have something fluffy with mean! ellie and sensitive/soft! reader. it can be whatever u want, loving the pink theme btw 🎀⭐️!
CRYBABY! - (E.W)
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pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.
synopsis: you’ve had a seriously bad day, and now you’re stuck with the shittiest person you’ve ever met while you wait for your friends to get home.
a/n: thank u for acknowledging the theme! it took so long to put together 😭. also i really hope this fulfills your request. would you guys want a part 2 w/ smut this time?
“crybaby, crybaby. we need to cry. and if we do, i know that would be alright.” — edit
masterlist.
ellie fucking williams was an exceptional singer, guitarist, and had incredible stage presence. but more importantly: she was an asshole. a complete fucking dick, and not just the usual “too good for everyone” cocky. she was crude. she was vulgar and she knew exactly how to push people, you specifically. sometimes you thought that she walked around asking for a fight to prove herself to people. now, you think it’s so she can finally feel something. even if it’s a mind spinning jab at her face.
you did your best to stay away from her, despite you sharing friends; jesse and dina. you knew exactly how she was and you knew you couldn’t handle it. no matter how many times you tried to let her little remarks brush past you, you always found yourself wanting to go lower. and each time you were around her it got harder to bite your tongue.
today was a bad day. a shit day. one of your worst. you found fraudulent activity on your bank card, got hit with a frustratingly large and urgent bill, and your washing machine broke. all in the span of an hour. the customers at your job had been extra rude and to make matters worse, your manager yelled at you for a mistake you didn’t even make.
all you wanted to do was go over to dina & jesse’s and eat brownies while they treated you like the child they’d yet to have. dina rubbing your back and reassuring you that everything will be okay while jesse threatens to beat all your enemies bloody. you use the spare key you have to their apartment to messily trudge in, kicking your shoes off at the door and smiling as you open the fridge to find dina’s special 1,000 hour brownies.
“i keep telling her she should put weed in those.” echoes behind you, causing you to pause mid bite. there she is, leaning against the counter. eyes smudged with her signature stage eyeliner, sweat glistening on her skin, a tank top and her stage cargos sagging on her waist. gargling down a plastic water bottle that had definitely seen better days.
“where are dina and jesse?” you furrow your brows closing the fridge. you grab a napkin to place the brownie on, and move further back near the door away from her. just in case.
“they went to go grab some groceries, but they told me to stay here and wait for you.” she answers, finishing the bottle off.
fuck. how long were they going to be gone? you couldn’t imagine spending more than 2 minutes alone with this loose lipped devil. her eyes narrow as she looks you up and down before smiling. here she goes.
“bad day? cause it looks like it.”
“well it definitely isn’t going to get better with you around me.” you snap back.
“ouch. i’m hurt.” she laughs. deviously. a hand over her chest as she pushes off the counter to chuck the empty bottle into the trash can.
you move over to the living room, sitting yourself on the couch. maybe if you ignore her she’ll get bored and leave you alone? maybe she’ll get so bored she’ll actually leave. god, please get the fuck out of here.
she follows you though, sitting way too close for comfort and turning on the tv. you pull your phone out, immediately opening tumblr and mindlessly scrolling. hoping that dina and jesse will be home soon.
“d tells me you stopped showing up to gigs because of me. is that true?” she breaks the silence between you two. you shrug her off. “you’re not the easiest person to be around, williams.” you state.
“so what’s wrong with me? i’d love to hear it straight from the horses mouth.” she scoffs, scooting closer. when you attempt to ignore her she pulls your phone out of your hand. staring into your eyes with her very own. piercing through your soul for a response. “is it because i called you an idiot?”
“among other things, but it doesn’t surprise me that that’s all you remember.” you reach for your phone but she pulls it back. this causes you to pinch her, and she smacks your hand away still holding your phone back. “remind me then.”
you feel her taunting tone. her want— need to push at you. to push your buttons and boundaries until you break. it’s like a game to her, and you certainly weren’t in the mood for it today.
“can you give me my phone so i can find out when dina and jesse are coming home?” you sigh. her behavior reminded you of a customer you’d had earlier who’d treated you like garbage because you weren’t smiling. you felt tears welling up but pushed them down. you never cried in front of ellie. because of her, maybe, but never to her face. you’d never live it down.
“can you answer my question? so i can apologize or whatever. d is really on my ass about it.”
you scoff. “ofcourse you aren’t genuinely sorry. you probably don’t even remember all the fucked up shit you say and do to people. half of the time you ignore me and the other half you treat me like i’m a burden. do you remember when you guys had your first real show? i told the security i knew you and you pretended like i was a stranger.”
“jesse was sooo pissed you didn’t show up.” she laughs. “did he yell at you?”
“yeah. thought i was lying because you told him i was. called me a shit friend and a liar until i showed him proof. why am i the only one you treat like this?”
“you’re definitely not the—“ you reach for your phone again, but she’s quicker than you. pushing you away and laughing at your lockscreen, which was a picture you’d taken of yourself. one you felt incredibly confident in. all of that confidence was withering away slowly and you could guess it’d only been 10 minutes. “only one.”
“that’s so much worse. seriously, i don’t have time for this today. i’ll just go home.” you sniffle and fail to hide it. the tears were in the back of your throat and you felt like her personal rag doll all over again. what you’d finally gotten away from the last week was haunting you all over again. her taunting, her rudeness. she knew what she was doing and she didn’t even care.
“are you gonna cry? am i making you cry?”
you gulp, biting your lip to fight the shakiness in your voice. “just give it back.” is all you can muster up. her arm stretches up and as you reach for it she tucks it in her back pocket and sits on it.
you feel the tears begin to spill out of your eyes and you quickly turn around and lean into the couches arm. hands over your face as you pathetically attempt to calm yourself. you feel a hand on your shoulder and you push it away before realizing it’s ellie handing you back your phone.
it takes you a couple blinks, convinced the tears have obstructed your vision. the very same ellie who’d tripped you in front of a crowd of people last month, was being nice? her face has softened, genuine concern replacing the taunting gaze she previously had. she places a hand on your back and shushes you.
“i’m sorry. i’ve never made you cry before, i’m sorry.” she speaks softly. she almost seems…confused? is this what it takes to get her to realize that what she does actually fucking hurts you? for you to break down in front of her? for her to get a peek at the silent nights you’d spent sobbing over another one of her “jokes”? all this time?
you wipe your eyes and begin to laugh, which startles her and causes her to lean back. “you’re such an ass, ellie. god, you’re such a fucking dick.” you shake your head and breathe. she doesn’t respond, just stares at you with concern. brows furrowed as she concentrates on your body language. the way you’re leaning closer towards her.
“today was such a bad day.” you cry out in frustration, dipping your head into her lap. you just lay there, sobbing. she doesn’t move you, but instead rubs your back. shushing you. whispering that it’ll be okay, and you’d never admit it because it was coming from her, but you really needed it in that moment.
she pulled you in closer to her, turning you onto your side so she can rub her thumb across your cheek. wiping some of your tears away. you begin to cry even harder, but she doesn’t push you away. even when her pants are soaked and snotty. she lets you lay there, and cry into her.
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oddballwriter · 3 months
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Calling Them your Husband
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Warnings: nothing really 
Author’s Snip: I just wanted to make some tooth-rotting fluff so enjoy
I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.
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Steven Grant
When you call him your husband, it was originally a joke, sort of
Your friend called you while you were out doing errands with Steven and they asked what you were doing, to which you said "I'm out with my husband getting stuff done."
Steven just blushes and does that goofy little smile he does because he's never heard you say that but now he wants to hear it all the time now
You guys are in a long committed relationship together and you two have been living together for some time now but he's been too anxious to ask about possibly getting married some day. Not knowing if that's something you want or if you just want to cohabitate as a couple instead
But now that he heard you refer to him as your husband (even if it was a little joke) he wants to marry you in a heartbeat so that you can actually call him your husband and he can call you his wife/husband/spouse
He just thinks about it the whole day but doesn't say anything to see if you will call him that again in case pointing it out will cause you to stop. He is a bit more affectionate though, sneaking in a pick on the cheek or something and secretly making goo-goo eyes at you
When you get home and you aren't in range of seeing it Steven starts looking up engagement rings and prices to see which one would look nice on you and try and save up money
Steven also starts to subtly, at least as subtle as he can be, ask you about if you want to get married someday
He's such a dork though, bless his soul, in his brain he's just kicking his feet and giggling. He's looking at prices for venues and planners already.
Marc Spector
Marc has it in him to get married, we know that
But in his mind he doesn't really see himself as "husband material". He thinks that he's got too much baggage that you'd have to deal with if you were married
He acts like you two haven't been living together and splitting the bills and stuff, which is sometimes what marriage is, in the most domestic way possible
To him, he can't really see himself being able to do the whole marriage thing all over again
That was until some drunk creep was hitting on you while you and him were on a date and you told the guy "I'm with my husband" which warded that guy off
For some reason you calling him your husband while you locked your arm with his just washed those feelings of doubt out. Something about it just made him feel so confident
Like "Yeah I'm their husband! Back off!"
After that Marc was more open with himself about the idea of letting that title back into his life and getting to call you his spouse too
He more so likes the ability to call you his spouse. Possessiveness is in him and by god does getting to call you his spouse feed it
Marc will ask about the idea of marriage sometime after that just to see if you like it
If you want to get married then he's on board. But if you think cohabitating suits you better then he's fine with that too
So long as you're there together and you love him then he's content and happy
Jake Lockley
Damn right he's your husband
Honestly ever since you two got serious with your relationship, became committed to each other, and moved in he's just been like "We are married now" in his head
He's never said that out loud but he knows that the feeling is there with you too
It wasn't until you semi-jokingly called him your husband when some girls were checking him out and you huffed and puffed about it
"What's the matter? I wasn't flirting back." "Well, excuse me for not wanting some giggling college girls to be eyeing up my husband."
And that just... made him feel something, in his heart and in his pants
No but seriously. After that night cohabitating and acting like a married couple wasn't enough. He needs to put a ring on you and vice versa
He will go down to town hall and get those damn papers and buy the rings right now
Jake was originally just going to wait until you said that you wanted to get officially married, but he just can't anymore
In the morning you guys are going to buy rings, get the papers filled out, and planning the wedding
He's got the wedding planner on speed dial and a house with a picket fence in the nice part of town ready to go, just say "I do" please
Honestly at this point he never wants to hear his name come out of your mouth ever again. To you, it's either "hun" "hunny" "dear" or "sweetheart"
Light of his life, air in his lungs, fire in his loins
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Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction
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notmyneighbor · 25 days
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Special Delivery - Doppelganger Francis Mosses x Female Reader
Word Count - 3.3k
Rating - Explicit
CW - masturbation, oral sex
Also available on AO3
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You’re being followed.
You’re out later than you’d intended, but there had been a lot of requests that day. Word was spreading. You were getting quite the reputation among the doppelgängers.
Imagine, a human who was betraying her own kind, making forged documents to help the invaders into DDD restricted areas.
You don’t even feel guilty about it, either, because what has any human ever done for you? You’ve been on your own since as far back as you can remember, dealt a bad hand early in life. This scheme you’ve concocted pays well. Better than any of the other less savory things you’ve had to do to supplement your income, and it came with an added bonus: you knew how to write in the alien’s language as well, the symbols you inscribe on the frame of your apartment door and workspaces guaranteeing you’ll be exempt from harm.
Maybe you could’ve done something with your artistic and linguist skills if you’d had the opportunity, but alas, this was your lot in life. Making the best of a less than ideal situation.
You deviate your course a few times, just to make certain you’re still being pursued. Yes, he’s still trailing you. You’re certain it’s male but you’re not pausing long enough to discern more than that. Well, fuck.
You take another detour. Perhaps not the best decision in hindsight. You’re further away from home now. You don’t recognize the street you’re on. There’s a delivery truck parked on the side of the road. Dairy. Should you try to hide inside? The door was open. Where was the driver? You consider your options. No one would admit you into their house at this hour, and why should they, when you’ve been selling out all your neighbors? The truck, then. Your stalker’s footsteps still sounded a fair distance away. It was your only chance at this point. Maybe you could find something to mark the symbols. If there was still time.
The step to enter the truck is high. You have to ungraciously hoist yourself inside, clinging desperately to the sides to balance your weight. Made it. Your nose wrinkles. There’s a faintly sour smell. Spoiled products. The keys are in the ignition. A feeling of foreboding washes over you. The street lamp nearby barely illuminates the interior of the vehicle. You’re afraid to go into the back. You can’t see anything you can use to write the protection phrase. Your breath saws in and out. Too loud. You’re making too much noise.
A foot on the steel step makes you whirl around. It’s your pursuer. Dressed as a milkman, but you know instantly it’s not. Replicant. Deceiver. The clone of whatever human he’s copying. He’d chosen a handsome one, though you doubt it had anything to do with appearances, more a matter of convenience. Broad shouldered. Narrow waisted. He lifts himself into the truck with practiced ease. You’re so fucked.
Dark eyes and hair. Pale skin. He blocks the light from outside as he crowds you further inside. Well, you couldn’t say you’d had a good run, but you’d done your best. You close your eyes. You don’t want to see the teeth emerge before he devours you.
“What are you doing in here?”
Your eyes fly open again. He hasn’t advanced any further. He wanted to talk? Play with his food before he ate it? Maybe he wasn’t hungry. Mabe you could talk your way out of this.
“I…I got lost on the way home.”
“You’re lying.” No malice behind those words, just an observation.
“I heard you following me. I know what you are,” you admit, then instantly regret it. Stupid girl.
“I know who you are, too. You’re the one who makes the ID’s and entry requests.”
“Business hours are Monday through Friday, 8am to 5pm.” Were you seriously being flippant with a doppelgänger? You give a little chuckle to show you’re joking around, but the noise sounds more like a dying hyena, slightly panicked and hysterical.
“Those hours don’t work for me.”
“Oh.” So he was a prospective customer then? “Cash up front, half in advance, the rest on delivery. Currently working this week behind the abandoned grocery store off of Burke Street. I have to rotate the site to, you know…”
“I’ll pay extra,” he adds. “For the inconvenience of the hour and short notice.”
You lick your lips at the prospect of making additional funds. What would be fair to charge? “You need it right now? What’s the hurry?”
“Are you able to do it or not?” This now laced with irritation. His patience and good graces were wearing thin already. Best not to ire him further. You’re lucky to still be alive.
“Yeah, I can do it.”
“I’ll drive us there, then.”
“Where am I supposed to sit?” You glance around the front of the cabin. There’s only one seat for the driver.
You see his shoulders raise and lower in a shrug before he sits behind the wheel. You suppose your only choice is to sit on the floor.
“Your truck reeks,” you say, that sour smell assaulting your nostrils again as you lower yourself down.
The engine rumbles to life. “Deliveries didn’t get made today.”
“Did you…” You’re wondering what happened to the original, human operator of the vehicle. Had he suffered some grim fate? Were his remains sitting in the doppelgänger’s gut, being digested at this very moment? You shudder at the unpleasant thought.
He glances down at you. “No. I simply duplicated his form and stole the truck. You humans leave your body substances everywhere,” he says, lifting the cap off his head and tossing it onto the dashboard. “This one perspired all over that.”
That was all it took for a doppel to replicate a human. Just a little bit of something from the original. Sweat. Blood. Mucus. Probably other, even more unsavory substances, too.
It’s uncomfortable on the floor. The truck’s suspension jostles you roughly. Luckily you don’t have far to go. The driver eases behind the abandoned brick building, shutting off the headlamps. There are no functioning street lights in this part of town. You’re shrouded in darkness.
The doppel stands and you struggle to your feet, reluctantly accepting the hand he offers you to assist you to your feet. You’ve never touched one of the invaders directly before. It feels normal. Just like a human. You’re not sure if that makes it better or worse.
You’ve been working out of the manager’s office in the rear of the store. You’ve got an actual set of keys, pilfered once you’d broken into the building. Another of your talents, that. Breaking and entering. An additional skill this unfair life has made you adept at.
You’re not used to being here so late. It’s amazing no one’s realized the building is still on the electrical grid. You’re grateful for the mistake, switching on the light in the back hallway after feeling blindly for the switch. The doppel is just behind you. You unlock the office door and hit another light switch, sighing in relief. That was better. Familiar territory. No longer in darkness.
But there’s an anxious invader at your back, and that knowledge is less than comforting. You sit down in the office chair behind the steel desk and he settles into the hardbacked one across from you.
“So, um…about the fee.”
Without a word the alien digs into his pants pocket, extracting several bills from a wallet and sliding them over to you. “Will that be sufficient?”
You’re trying to keep a straight face. Where did he get this much money? “Yes, that’s fine. Do you…do you have a home address for the individual?”
Delving back into the wallet, he now produces a car registration. Francis Mosses. You recognize the area he resides in. A better part of town than the one you’re living in, but maybe someday you could change that.
Although, you’re about to make that area a lot less safe, you think, pulling the necessary tools out of the large bottom desk drawer, including a DDD logo stamp. That had been the hardest item to acquire. The rest were fairly routine.
“I need to take a picture. Do you just want to get that over with now?” He nods. “Can you stand in front of the door? It’s a good blank background.” Another nod as you stand. He closes the office door and positions himself, waiting for you to snap the Polaroid. Damn, he really is attractive. Exactly your type. You don’t even mind the little bend at the bridge of his nose or the shadows under his eyes. You take several pictures, one for the ID card and one for the entry request, with some extras just for…well, maybe just to have options if the others didn’t turn out well.
You’re not used to being watched while you work.
You typically have the doppels come back to pick the forgeries up later. These dark eyes watch your every movement like a hawk, from the way you print onto the request form to the drag of the scalpel blade around two of the photographs(they had all come out fine), carefully affixing them to both documents. You roll the stamp in the black ink pad and press it gently but firmly into each corner, waving a hand over the fresh ink to help it dry.
“You’re skilled at this,” he murmurs appreciatively, and your head lifts to meet his gaze. “I see why you come so highly recommended.”
“It’s not like there’s any competition,” you say, feeling a flush creep into your cheeks over the praise.
“True. Not many humans would betray their own kind, would they?”
Your lips press into a thin line of displeasure. You didn’t need the reminder. Was he mocking you?
“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sure you have your reasons.”
Somewhat mollified, you glance down at your work. It still looked a little moist. You need it to be completely dry before you apply the lamination to seal it in permanently.
The copycat is still staring at you. You, not the documents you’re working on. You clear your throat. “I want to make sure they’ve dried properly.”
“Of course.”
“It’ll just be a few minutes.”
“I don’t mind the wait.”
You lean back and the swivel chair creaks. Your shoulders are aching. You’d made a lot of forgeries today. Too much time spent hunched over the desk. Your eyes are a little sore, too, dry and burning. You needed a bath and maybe a snack and bed. Forget dinner. That sounded too complicated at this hour.
“You’re tired,” he observes.
“It’s been a long day.”
“I am inconveniencing you greatly, aren’t I?”
He doesn’t sound remorseful, exactly. You don’t know what he sounds like. It’s too difficult to process. You’re exhausted, that post adrenaline rush from earlier really depleting the last stores of energy. You don’t even think you’d protest if he decided to turn on you right now, taking the goods and making a meal out of you before he ran. The symbols are more of a professional courtesy than anything. It’s not like it actually prevented the doppels from physically being able to attack.
The legs of the chair he’s seated in drag across the dirty linoleum flooring, making a loud scraping sound. You watch warily as he comes around the desk, easing past a filing cabinet to reach your side.
“We haven’t really negotiated the full price yet, have we?”
Oh. Was that what was happening? He was going to stiff you. Suddenly that advance amount no longer seemed so generous. That was to be your total payment. Honestly, you should have been more demanding.
“I have more money,” he says, immediately canceling out your previous assumption, “but I don’t think that’s what you need most right now.”
“You’re right. I should be at home in the bathtub. Or better yet bed,” you add.
His hand reaches for the edge of the chair, turning you fully to face him. The abrupt movement catches you by surprise.
“Maybe what you really need is some good old fashioned milk.” His hand closes over your wrist, dragging your hand towards what you’ve somehow missed previously. He’s hard. Like full on, bulging, fit to burst out of his trousers. You should be terrified. You are scared, kind of. But turned on. Stupidly aroused because you haven’t had anyone give you this kind of attention in who knows how long. Sex had just kind of fallen by the wayside for you. There was so much else that needed to be accounted for.
You watch the hand pulling the leather strap of the imposter milkman’s belt in wonder, as if you can’t quite reconcile it’s your own doing this. Its partner joining, thumbing the button of the fly through the slot and parting the metal teeth below into a wicked grin. You shove the waistband of his briefs down and his cock springs free, flushed and thick and oozing precum. You stare at that clear bead of fluid as if hypnotized. Your mouth waters. You want it. You want to suck this creature dry.
Your tongue swipes over the crown of his erection and the doppel hums in pleasure. “Good girl,” he says encouragingly, and the praise sends heat right between your legs, your pussy tingling in response. You’re no longer thinking about your unfinished work on the desk beside you, about how dangerous it is to be alone with a doppelgänger in an abandoned building at night. You’re instead wondering how much of that dark pink length you’re going to be able to voluntarily sample before your gag reflex interrupts and he’s forced to fuck into your throat manually. Your sex throbs again. Time to stop wondering and find out.
Your lips close over the head and begin sliding over the shaft. Clean musk. A better flavor than perhaps you’d anticipated. You take a few experimental bobs, testing. He’s stretching you already. Your lips. The fat head bumping your cheeks, your soft palate. His fingers are in your hair, combing through the tresses with a strange kind of tenderness.
“So good. You’re so talented…”
You whimper a little, trying to reach more of him. There it is. That natural barrier of your body’s resistance. You struggle against it until you’re forced to withdraw, coughing and gasping, leaving a trail of thick saliva behind. You give yourself a brief respite, stroking the slick fluids over his prick. It makes a lewd squelching sound every time you massage the shaft. You can feel your arousal leaking between your legs, saturating your panties. You reach under your skirt, no longer caring about how depraved you appear. It’s a relief when your fingers make contact with your clit, dragging that wetness around the nub in frantic circles.
“That’s a good girl. Touch that pussy. It feels good, doesn’t it? So good…”
Your mouth engulfs his cock again. You roll your lips inward and massage the length in short bursts. Now relaxing and planting soft, passionate kisses on the tip. You spit on it and slurp up the liquid noisily. You like the sounds the doppel is making. You’ve never liked the men who were quiet, reserved. This invader isn’t holding back. He moans and groans and hisses. His teeth catch his bottom lip. His head tips back when the ecstasy of the blow job gets to be a bit overwhelming. And you love every minute of it. You savor every sound and gesture as you perform the obscene act while masturbating, grinding your swollen bundle of nerve endings against your pubic bone.
“You’re hungry, honey, aren’t you? Starving. I’ve got what you need, darling.” The nails of the hand you have curled around his hip dig into the cotton and polyester blended fabric of his uniform pants as you push yourself even further down his length, this time bruising your throat. You ignore the discomfort, grateful when the hand in your hair finally tightens and you feel him begin to fuck your mouth, battering the rear of that moist cavern over and over. “You want a drink, baby? You ready for it?”
You hum in agreement and he eases up, withdrawing until just the head of that thick phallus sits on the tip of your tongue. You’re panting, moaning, frantic for his release perhaps even more than your own.
“Here you go, sweetheart.” A couple of swipes along the shaft and that brief pumping is enough to send him over the edge, thick pulses of cum now spraying the inside of your mouth, pooling on the wedge of muscle his dick rests against. There’s a lot. An absurd amount. You can feel it leaking from the corners of your mouth. Bitter, but not the worst you’ve tasted. Sheer coincidence your body decides to shatter the instant you swallow that load, forcing that creamy baby batter down your gullet while your pussy spasms against your relentless finger.
“There you go, baby. Good girl.”
The milkman’s doppel bends to kiss you, surprising you with the gesture, now of all times, licking your face clean before thrusting his tongue between your lips and you crash right into another orgasm, moaning and twitching while the imposter fucks your mouth with his tongue.
Truly wrung out now, you collapse against the back of the chair, your chest heaving. The doppelgänger refastens his pants, but not before you notice it looks like he could go another round soon, and oh, doesn’t that make your cunt throb again in spite of being so recently satisfied, twice no less.
It takes great effort to smooth your skirt and your mussed hair back into some semblance of order, returning your attention to the documents that are certainly ready by now, the ink well set. The doppelgänger doesn’t return to his seat, instead remaining beside you, watching as the final protective layer is applied.
“There you go. Finished.” You glance up to see the doppel’s gaze fixed on you again, the money forgotten in his hand.
“Maybe…maybe we could work out a deal for the remainder of the payment.”
Your heart speeds up a little. “I’m listening.”
“Maybe I could make special deliveries. To your residence. For as long as it takes to cancel the debt.”
You hum, pretending to consider the offer even though you already know what your answer will be. “What happens after that?”
“We can renegotiate the terms when the time comes.”
“Interesting.”
“Interesting as in you want to think it over, or…interesting as in you definitely want more?” He bends to kiss you again. Gentler this time, but no less appealing.
“The latter.”
“Good. I was hoping you’d say that.” He sets the cash on the desk. “Consider that a tip then, for a job well done.”
You’re not going to argue with that. You hurriedly put everything away and lock the office again, soon finding yourself back outside next to the truck.
“Are you walking home, or do you want a ride?”
You weigh the discomfort of being on the floor in the smelly vehicle against walking home alone at an even riskier hour, where an encounter with another doppel would most assuredly not go as pleasantly.
“I’ll take the ride. But you need to clean the truck out.”
“I’ll do it in the morning.”
“The real milkman must have caught hell losing all these orders and the company car,” you murmur as you return to your former position inside the vehicle.
“Not my problem.”
“Every man for himself, right?” You can hardly condemn the attitude, given your current career choice.
“Exactly.” A flash of teeth in the darkness. He steals another kiss before starting the engine, bending low to capture your lips.
You’re delivered safely to your apartment building minutes later, personally escorted by the cloned milkman.
“I’ll bring you your next delivery tomorrow night, hmm?”
“Okay.” He’s standing so close. It takes just the slightest lean for him to kiss you again.
“Unless, of course, you wanted another advance…”
You shove the door you’ve already unlocked open, inviting the doppelgänger inside.
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sunkissed-zegras · 27 days
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𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊 ─ PB⁵
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౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "paige absolutely loves the taste of the chap stick/lip balm y/n uses, so they keep stealing kisses from y/n" for my lovely tay @euphternal
─ word count | 479
─ warnings | kissing (obvs), teasing, sweaty paige (sorry to all the germaphobes), nothin else
─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @boiliatfu and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!
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YOU SETTLED INTO your bed, pulling out your phone and begin to scroll on TikTok before your door opened.
Paige walked into your dorm, exhaustion clear in her expression as she let out a loud sigh. She threw her gym bag on the floor, practically throwing herself on your bed.
"How was practice?" You asked with a knowing smile on your face as Paige shot you a glared, settling into your bed next to you. She just grabbed your waist, pulling you into her chest. "Ew, you're sweaty, Paige, go take a shower."
She ignored your protests as she began planting kisses all over your shoulders and neck. You laughed, her lips tickling your body before she pulled away with a laugh. "Why would you ask me such a stupid question?"
You chuckled at Paige's playful response, running your fingers through her damp hair. "I guess I just like to hear you complain about it," you teased, leaning in to give her a quick kiss on the lips.
Paige rolled her eyes with a grin, but then her expression softened as she gazed at you. "Seriously though, practice was brutal today. Coach had us doing those new drills, and I swear, I've never felt so sore in my life."
You nodded sympathetically, knowing how intense Paige's training could be. "Well, you're a total badass out there, so I'm sure it'll pay off."
She smiled at you as she leaned into to steal another kiss from your lips. "I like this flavor,"
"Of what?" You laughed as you furrowed your eyebrows at your girlfriend.
"The chapstick or whatever, I like it." Paige smiled as she grabbed your face to give you a deeper kiss, a giggle escaping your lips as she did.
You pulled away as your girlfriend kept gazing lovingly at you. "I'm gonna have to reapply now, baby."
"I'm still gonna keep kissing you, I don't care." Paige shrugged as she leaned back into your bed with smirk.
You rolled your eyes playfully, grabbing your chapstick from the bedside table and applying it with a grin. "Do you want some for yourself?"
"Nah, it tastes better from your lips, baby." Paige grinned as she grabbed your arm to pull you closer and crashing her lips against yours.
Paige grinned against your mouth, the taste of the chapstick mingling with the warmth of her kiss. "Mmm, it adds to the flavor,"
"You're so gross," you joked as you leaned away, your cheeks feeling warmer. Paige just shrugged as she gripped your wrist to pull you into her chest as you bursted out in laughter.
Paige chuckled, her arms wrapped snugly around you. "Hey, you love it," she teased, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.
You couldn't help but grin at her laughter, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you. "Yeah, I do," you admitted, snuggling closer to her.
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okaylikesmomo · 5 months
Text
Birthday Part 3: Dinner
~5k words, Nayeon smut, male reader
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The gentle chime of a notification stole your attention as you tapped away on your phone, looking for inspiration. Allegedly, Sana had your gift waiting back at her apartment. It was a bit reassuring to know she didn’t actually forget your existence, but you still had one stop to make first before addressing your irrational worries.
As soon as you entered Nayeon and Momo's apartment, your nose was pleasantly surprised by those delectable fumes that you knew all too well. The smell intensified as you moved further inside the flat, forcing your mouth to water.
“This smells absolutely divine,” you announced as you finally walked up to the kitchen where you found Momo juggling multiple pans. She dropped the little wooden utensil she was stirring with into a pot and turned on her heels.
“You made it,” she cheered while launching her arms to the roof. “Happy birthday!”
Without hesitation you stepped up to her, hugging her tightly and lifting her off her feet.
“Of course I made it,” you spun her around playfully, relishing in the joyful squeals escaping her mouth. “Is there anything I can help you with?” you mumbled into her shoulder, just now taking in the sweet perfume she wore as your nose pressed into her, swaying back and forth with her in your arms.
“You could start by letting me down,” she answered pragmatically.
“I don’t want to,” you whined as you put her down carefully. “Really though, need help?”
“Nope!” she replied cheerily while turning back to the pot and resuming her stirring. “Actually, go ahead and set the table, it’s almost ready.”
Ignoring her suggestion, you stepped up behind her and wrapped your arms around her waist, resting your chin on her shoulder.
“What if I’d rather just hold you?”
“That’s fine,” she giggled. “It’s your birthday after all, but I do need you to pass me that spoon then.”
After giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, you let go of her and handed her the spoon before leaning against the countertop.
“Where’s Nayeon? Wasn’t she supposed to be back by now?” you asked, watching as Momo worked.
“She said to eat without her, she’s running late,” Momo replied, her cheery demeanor disappearing for a brief moment before returning as she held a spoonful of broth up for you to taste. “Poor girl is working late every night it feels like.”
“I know, I kinda felt bad taking the day off, but she insisted,” you leaned forward and opened your mouth. “Mmm,” you gasped as the hot broth entered your mouth, nearly burning your tongue. “That’s delicious, way spicier than I expected.”
“You like spicy,” Momo smiled proudly to herself, turning back to the pot. “Don’t feel bad, you’ve been with her every single day, she’ll survive one without you.”
“Of course she’ll survive, I just want to make sure she has support.”
“She has a lot of support, stop worrying,” Momo said as she turned off the burner. “What about you and Sana? How does she feel about you spending almost all your time with Nayeon?”
“She understands.”
“Does she understand even when you’re too tired to go back home and end up spending the night here?” Momo continued, pulling dishes out of the cabinet as she spoke.
“She… did she say something to you?” you asked while accepting the two bowls Momo handed you. “Where’s this coming from?”
“It’s nothing like that,” Momo clarified, leaning over and pecking you on the cheek. “I’m just asking. In case you forgot, Sana is one of my best friends”
“I believe her,” you walked the bowls over to the table. “Plus, she knows I’m the one who ends up sleeping alone in a bed while you two share, we usually end up video calling.”
“Ew, I’m washing my sheets,” Momo scrunched her face. “I don’t wanna hear about that, not about my own bed.”
“We don’t do anything like that,” you laughed, taking the next dish from her hands. “Also, seriously, as if your bed is a sacred place,” you added with a roll of your eyes.
“It’s different when it’s with me,” Momo scoffed while scooping rice into two smaller bowls.
“Right, because we’ve totally never also had other girls in your bed with us,” you chuckled, picking up a dish of kimchi.
“Is that what you want tonight? I’m sure it can be arranged,” she asked in her sultry, teasing voice.
“Slow down there tiger,” you sat down at the table. “How about we start with dinner?”
“I can be your dinner,” Momo whispered as she took a seat across from you, flashing her seductive eyes in your direction.
“In that case why don’t we head straight to your bedroom?”
“No wait, I’m joking,” Momo quickly dropped the act to focus on the real priority at hand. “I put way too much effort into this meal to waste it.”
“It looks amazing,” you took a whiff of the stew. “Thanks for all this, you really didn’t have to go through all the trouble, you know I would have been perfectly happy with something simple or takeout.”
“I wanted to!” Momo smiled as she started pouring broth into her bowl. “I tried some new things this time, so I hope you still like it.”
“In my experience, I’m usually a huge fan of when you try new things,” you smirked while filling your own bowl.
“Good, because lately I’ve been practicing.”
“Practicing?” you repeated, holding your spoon up to your mouth. “With whom?”
The conversation was interrupted by the clicking of the front door.
“I’m home!” Nayeon announced, walking up and basically falling onto you. “Happy birthday cutie,” she sighed as she hugged you from the side before she gave you a soft kiss on the cheek.
“Thanks, how was today? Did they fix the-”
“Not now,” she shushed you, bringing a finger to your lips.  “We’ll talk about work stuff later,” she added before leaning forward and planting another kiss on your cheek. “And I hope you saved some for me,” Nayeon added while turning over to Momo.
“Of course,” Momo smiled up at Nayeon, her eyes twinkling.
What happened next was unexpected to say the least. Nayeon bent over, tilted her head slightly, and pressed her lips against Momo’s mouth. The two of them began kissing; it wasn’t a little playful peck, it was full-blown making out. You watched in awe as Nayeon grabbed Momo’s face with her hands while Momo reached up and grabbed Nayeon’s waist.
They kept on kissing, ignoring the fact that you were right there. You had never seen them do this before, and you frankly didn’t know how to react. As shocking as it was, it was also incredibly sexy, but your mind was too confused to truly appreciate the scene. It felt like an eternity before they finally stopped and Nayeon stood back up.
“I’m going to take a quick shower,” Nayeon said casually as she walked away. “Can you send birthday boy into my room after you’re done eating? I have a present for him.”
“Sure,” Momo answered indifferently as she returned her attention to the food. “Are you not joining us?”
“I’ll eat later, I’m not particularly hungry,” Nayeon replied.
After Nayeon’s door slammed shut, you sat there staring at Momo.
“What’s up?” she asked after noticing your staring.
“What’s up? Are we not going to talk about what just happened?”
“Huh, what do you mean?” Momo asked before scooping a spoonful of rice into her mouth.
“You just… you and Nayeon… hello?”
“Chaeyoung’s also in that one,” Momo commented nonchalantly while sipping on the broth.
“What?”
“Hello we up run this city yo-”
“Momo really, what just happened?”
“What, the kiss? That’s nothing, just a bit of friendliness.”
“Friendliness?!” your eyebrows shot up. “That wasn’t friendliness, that was more like ‘what are we naming our kids’ territory.”
“Are you jealous or something? Come here, we can kiss as well,” she pouted her lips playfully.
“Momo…” you chuckled. “Is there something I should know about going on?”
“It’s not that serious,” she began laughing. “I’ve just been doing some extra stuff for her to help her relax after all these long days.”
“Wow.”
“Even if it was serious, how come you’re fine with Mina and Chae, but when it’s me and Nayeon it’s an issue all of a sudden.”
“First of all, it’s not an issue at all,” you clarified. “Secondly, Mina and Chae don’t kiss like that.”
Momo raised an eyebrow at you.
“Do they?”
“Really?” Momo giggled. “If Chae didn’t like living with those two so badly, Mina would have moved in with her by now.”
“Is it really that serious?”
“No, I’m kidding,” Momo giggled again. “Since there’s only one of you to go around, sometimes we just pretend to be extra romantic with each other, it’s all just for fun.”
“Extra romantic for fun…” you repeated while contemplating. “That could be an interesting premise for a TTT.”
“Are you thinking about work right now?” Momo scolded you, giving your shins a light kick.
“Sorry, you’re right, I should be focused on this phenomenal meal.”
“That’s right,” Momo smiled to herself.
You reached across the table and grabbed her hand, leaving her with a shocked face reminiscent of a deer in headlights as she looked up at you.
“Seriously, it’s delicious. Thank you again for the thousandth time,” you said sincerely.
“It’s… it’s the least I could do,” Momo stammered as the rosiness crept up into her cheeks.
Her slender fingers gave your hand a little squeeze before letting go, leaving her staring at the food spread in front of her. The two of you finished the meal in mostly silence, conversing over mundane topics of little interest to you; all you truly cared about was spending time with Momo.
Every time you got the opportunity to sit down and have a one on one with her, you were reminded of just how much you enjoy her company. With the hectic nature of your careers and the juggling of all the members, sometimes you found yourself trying to make excuses to spend more time with Momo alone.
Whether it was those late nights watching Netflix when Nayeon would pass out, or giving her company at the offices when she would come to visit. Momo always managed to make your heart beat just a little bit quicker. Nayeon would record her songs while you would spend time watching Momo dance, single handedly being her entire audience.
“I know I’ve already said it, but that was delightful,” you commented as you scraped the final bit of rice out of your bowl.
“Any time,” Momo smiled peacefully.
“Maybe I should spend the evening here more often.”
“Hey, don’t forget that you have a girl who waits for you every night.”
“That’s true,” you agreed, silently feeling less upset about Sana not being there this morning. “She’s a special girl.”
Momo suddenly stood up and began stacking the empty dishes.
“Nayeon’s probably done showering, I can clean up.”
“I’ll help.”
“No, you don’t have to,” Momo said curtly before carrying the dishes to the kitchen.
Once again, you ignored her instructions, and picked up the remaining plates and cups.
“I said you didn’t have to do that,” Momo said without looking back as she began dropping the dishes in the sink.
“I know” you said as you placed the dishes in the sink before turning off the tap.
“It’s going to be difficult to wash these if you do that.”
“You’re not washing dishes right now,” you whispered into her ear from behind as you slid your hands around her waist.
As your hands moved toward her chest, you quickly discovered that she wasn't wearing a bra. You began to gently squeeze Momo's plush mounds as you admired her flawless form.
“Then what am I doing right now?” Momo asked.
“Not dishes.”
Your palm grazed against Momo's firm core as it moved down her body.
“Not tonight,” Momo whispered quietly.
“What’s wrong?” you asked while standing up straight and immediately pulling your arms away. Before you could let go of her completely, she grabbed your hands and kept them placed on her waist. “Momo?”
“Hold me.”
There was a tension to her voice, one you couldn’t quite comprehend, but you satisfied her request and wrapped your arms around her stomach once again. While squeezing her gently enough to where you could feel each and every breath she took, you leaned your face into the back of her neck.
That sweet scent she wore was addicting; your mind stood no chance. It wasn’t entirely clear what she wanted, yet the way her hands softly wrapped around yours was enough to make you want to hold on forever. Holding Momo forever didn’t sound that bad in your head - the logistics of how that would work hardly mattered.
“Everything alright?” you asked quietly, giving her a quick squeeze.
“Yeah,” she mumbled back. “You should go to Nayeon, I’m probably going to bed.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“If something was wrong, you’d tell me, right?”
Momo turned around in your arms and faced you with a smile - one that you could see right through.
“Absolutely.”
“Is that offer still up for grabs?” you inquired.
“Offer?” she asked with a confused tilt of her head.
You pouted your lips playfully which earned a heavy exhale from Momo alongside a genuine smile. She leaned forward and pecked you on the lips before beginning to walk away.
“Goodnight.”
“Momo,” you grabbed her hand and pulled her back.
She spun around, tripping just enough for her to fall into your embrace in the most drama-esque ridiculousness. Her hands landed on your chest, catching her fall, while you wrapped one arm around her body to support her. That direct eye contact sent epinephrine coursing through your veins. Your heart rate elevated, and a warmth flooded into your core, proliferating throughout your limbs.
Without saying a word, you leaned into her until your noses gently brushed. For just a second, you held yourself right in front of her before she angled her face enough to press her lips against yours. Her soft lips squished against yours as she kissed you, her breath entering your mouth.
It was intoxicating. Addicting to the point where you didn’t even notice your hand subconsciously sliding down and resting on her lower back. You were too immersed in the kiss - a proper kiss. The emotion could be felt all the way to your fingertips and toes, that warmth in your core burning throughout every segment of your body.
After the kiss finally ended, the two of you stood there in silence with your foreheads gently touching. You became acutely aware of where your hand traveled and subtly moved it back up to her waist, but she was unbothered by it. Her deep breaths were steady, telling a story in their own way, a plot you followed closely.
“Goodnight,” you whispered, leaning back and using your free hand to push her hair out of her face.
Momo nodded silently before turning around and slowly walking to her room. She paused in her door frame for a second as if she was considering options, showing you her side profile before making her decision, disappearing behind the shut door, leaving you alone in the kitchen with your thoughts.
“No way this is for me.”
“It is!”
“Seriously?”
“Alright, no it’s not,” Nayeon laughed before pausing the song. “It just turned out to be a cute coincidence.”
“I knew you weren’t that sweet,” you teased, giving her ribs a playful little poke.
“Hey now, I wouldn’t be too quick to say that,” Nayeon replied while batting your hand away. “This one actually was inspired by you.”
“I’m not sure I can trust you.”
“Are you calling Sana a liar?” Nayeon smirked before switching the song.
My eyes, your eyes, let’s go.
Your confusion was quickly erased after hearing the next line as you recalled Sana’s reference back in Oakland. The melody was amazing, it sounded so comforting to your ears - and the lyrics were painfully catchy.
“Baby I just wanna be your lover,” you quietly sang along while Nayeon proudly watched your reaction. “Nayeon, this is amazing.”
“I’m glad you like it,” she sighed, unable to hide her nerves. “I’m not worried about the other tracks though, it’s the choreo that’s still stressing me out.”
“Pop pop pop,” you muttered while flipping your hands around.
Nayeon gave you an odd look as you butchered the choreography before the two of you burst out laughing. She lowered the volume a little and extended her hand for you to join her on the bed. As soon as you took her hand, she tugged you onto her while she lay on her back. Her bathrobe slipped open to reveal her chest, but she didn't appear to mind at all.
“You’re going to be fine,” you whispered while resting your cheek on her chest, her right breast directly in front of you.
“I’m glad at least one of us is confident,” she sighed while stroking the back of your head absentmindedly.
“I’ve seen you practicing,” you said while reaching your hand up to her breast and cupping it, letting the bathrobe fall completely. “You’ve nailed every part other than the gang signs.”
“Gang signs?” Nayeon laughed while you began squeezing her tit. “Is that what they are?”
“How else would you describe them?” you chuckled, playing with her nipple between your fingers. “I already know that part’s going to be all over TikTok.”
“Oh great,” she said sarcastically.
“I know filming a hundred dance challenges is exhausting,” you responded while rubbing your hand in circles. “Thanks for being a good sport about it.”
“They’re not too bad, honestly,” she yawned loudly. “Exhausting, yes, but at least it’s an excuse to spend some time with idol friends.”
“Tired?” you asked as your hand left her breast and slid down her body to her thigh, giving it a light massage.
“Very,” she yawned again. “What did the others end up doing? I didn’t get a chance to read the whole group chat, all I know about is Dahyun’s and Momo’s plans.”
“We had a bit of fun together,” you answered while untying the half-removed bathrobe and fully tossing it open.
You began to rub your hand between Nayeon’s thighs, sliding upwards until your fingers grazed her intimate bits.
“Wait,” Nayeon grabbed your wrist. “It’s your birthday, let me-”
“Oh shush,” you turned your face into her and took her left tit into your mouth.
At the same time, you slowly slipped your fingers up and down her slit, pausing each time to press down against her clit. You sucked on her left nipple until it was fully erect before releasing it from your lips with a wet pop.
The hand you had between her legs kept moving up and down, teasing her entrance as you moved your face over to her right tit. Your other hand replaced your mouth on her left tit, squeezing it softly, flicking at her taut nipple.
Just as you took her breast into your mouth, you slowly eased your middle finger into her pussy at the same time. She moaned gently, completely relaxed to your touch. Nayeon’s natural lubricant made slipping in easy, and you wasted no time before slipping your ring finger in as well.
“Birthday or not, I’m still in charge of taking care of you,” you said while admiring the shine of your saliva on Nayeon’s tits. “Fast? Slow? What kind of mood are we in tonight?”
“Slow,” Nayeon moaned, eyes closed, head pressing into the mattress.
“Slow it is,” you smiled at her before following her request, gently moving your fingers back and forth in her pussy, going all the way down to the knuckle.
Even with Nayeon’s exceptional wetness, tonight she was tighter than usual. It was almost like you could feel the stress and tension she was under through her pussy. You put full effort in your movements, trying your absolute best to make it feel good for her.
“Nayeon sweetie, relax,” you whispered, leaning closer to her face and giving her a quick kiss on the lips.
Her breathing began to calm down, the muscles in her pussy throbbing gently with your touch. Her pussy didn’t loosen up much, but her contorted facial expression converted into one displaying more satisfaction.
“That’s better,” you gently encouraged her, curling your fingers inside her slightly.
“Mmmmmhh,” she moaned out. “That’s nice, keep… that…”
Your fingers kept moving while you made your way down her body, pausing briefly to kiss her tummy. Her lower body began to squirm, and you could see her back start to arch towards the roof.
As your mouth approached her pussy, you gave your lips a quick lick before pressing them against her crotch. You loved her taste. The freshness of her just-showered skin, the subtle scent of her products, the lust emanating from her pussy. Eating Nayeon out was the best gift.
Her pussy made your mind go numb. The slight tang of her fluids had your tastebuds overwhelmed, you even removed your fingers so that you could focus entirely on licking her thoroughly. It went on for a while, longer than it usually took for Nayeon to cum, when you decided you wanted more.
With your hands on the back of her thighs, you pushed her legs up, knees to her chest. You ran your tongue down her slit one last time before going lower, kissing her on the way down. Once you were face to face with her tight little asshole, you gently pressed your mouth against the entrance.
“Oh,” Nayeon moaned softly while reaching one hand down between her legs, rubbing her pussy.
It wasn’t until you pushed your tongue past the tightness of her little asshole when you felt her hand grab your hair. She began guiding you, treating your hair like reins, making you pleasure her in exactly the way she desired. It was working, you could feel her body begin trembling.
At some point you noticed you had lowered your own pants and began gently stroking yourself. Truthfully, you don’t even remember when it happened, you were too distracted with Nayeon’s body. She was riding the edge of her orgasm - you knew she was close.
Finally, you removed your mouth from her body and straightened your body. She looked up at you, eyes begging for what you were about to give her. She needed to get fucked by you in this moment, there was nothing else she could think about. You positioned yourself between her legs, pressing down the insides of her thighs to spread them wider.
First you went deep into her pussy, making her exhale softly. The soft warmth of her pussy felt amazing, and this was just the warm up. You fucked her gently for a bit, but you could see the gears turning in her head, you could see she was getting desperate for you to take her in another way.
As you withdrew your cock from her warm pussy, her wetness making your shaft glisten, Nayeon pulled her knees together slightly. You pushed her legs up this time, lifting her butt off the bed slightly, giving you the perfect angle into her ass. Carefully, you pushed your tip into her tight little asshole. Once it was in, you threw away any considerations of tenderness and shoved your cock balls deep into her ass.
Nayeon inhaled sharply, squinting her eyes for a moment before relaxing and slowly exhaling through her mouth. You could see her pussy leaking before you, even without any thrusting. Once you were satisfied that she was alright, you began moving your hips back and forth. It was slow, but not gentle. Each time you pushed your cock into her, you made sure she took the entire length.
“Fuck,” Nayeon moaned after one excessively rough slam. “Faster…” she added in a whisper.
You leaned forward, pressing the back of her knees to press her femur against her chest, squishy her soft thigh gently. The new position let you go just a bit deeper, perfect for what you were about to do.
Then you began fucking Nayeon relentlessly. Her mouth shot open, silently screaming as her hands gripped the bed sheets until her knuckles went white. That orgasm she had been on the edge of for so long as approaching rapidly now - you could feel it coming.
Her asshole was squeezing your cock unbearably hard now, and her pussy was flowing freely. It was magnificent, you could see her physically losing control the harder you went. After just a few finals thrusts, her pussy shot up like a fountain. She couldn’t stay silent, she let out a loud shriek before panting heavily, pulse after pulse of pleasure running through her body.
Normally you’d slow down, let her ride out the orgasm gently, but you were nearing your own. You kept fucking her, roughly, and it was blatantly obvious that she was enjoying it. Her cries of pleasure continued, her orgasm continued, her pleasure continued.
Then it finally hit you. You could feel your own orgasm rapidly approaching, but you suddenly went over the edge without warning. The warm cum erupting from your cock began filling Nayeon’s tight asshole, the numbing pleasure finally becoming too much for you to handle.
The thrusting had to stop, the sensory overload was too much. Your body couldn’t handle any more stimulation as you lay there, balls deep in Nayeon’s asshole, pumping her gently until you had no more cum to give. You fell forward, falling between her legs as she quickly spread them, making room for you.
Your mouths connected and your cock slipped out of her asshole. The two of you kissed passionately, Nayeon telling you how much she enjoyed what just happened without speaking a single word. She had a way of expressing herself in times like this, a way that you could understand so well.
The last thing you could remember was the feeling of Nayeon’s soft lips against yours before you passed out.
“Good morning.”
“Morning,” you groaned, rubbing your eyes before launching your body up. “Morning? Oh shit, Sana…”
“Under normal circumstances a girl would be pissed if her man woke up after sleeping with her and said another girl’s name,” Nayeon chuckled.
“I need to go,” you panicked, looking around the room for your pants.
“Calm down, you only slept for an hour,” Nayeon grabbed your wrist as you tried standing up. 
“Holy shit, don’t scare me like that,” you scolded her before sitting on the edge of the bed with your face in your hands.
“I’m sowwy’,” Nayeon cooed into your ear from behind as she wrapped her arms around your chest. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s really not your fault,” you replied, turning slightly to give her a kiss on the cheek. “I just know she’s waiting for me, I didn’t want to disappoint her.”
“If she knew the first words out of your mouth when you woke up included her name, I’m sure she’d be far from disappointed,” Nayeon giggled. “You really care for her, everyone can see that no matter how hard you try to hide your relationship.”
“We’re not hiding it-”
“But you’re intentionally not flaunting it,” Nayeon interjected. “The girls won’t say it, but some of them definitely appreciate it.”
“I…” you began. “Sometimes I feel like this isn’t right.”
“Which part?” Nayeon asked, joining you on the edge of the bed and handing you your pants.
“I don’t really know how to explain it, but it just feels a bit wrong committing to one girl knowing…”
“That some of us also have feelings for you?” Nayeon finished your thought.
“Yeah…” you confirmed. “I know it’s an open relationship and all, but still…”
“I think you should ask yourself if you’re happy,” Nayeon said gently, resting a hand on your thigh. “If you’re happy with this arrangement, then it’s your right.”
“Of course I’m happy, I really do love Sana, but…”
“You think you might have feelings for someone else?”
“How do you-”
“I’m not stupid,” Nayeon smiled. “This might come as a shocker to you, but I do talk to the girls from time to time.”
“So what should I do?”
“You’re going to have to figure that out yourself, and until you know what you truly want, I don’t see any reason for you to make any drastic changes,” Nayeon suggested calmly. “You clearly still have feelings for Sana, as long as the two of you are on the same page I don’t see why you need to change anything.”
“Is it fair to the others, though?” you asked hesitantly.
“It’ll never be easy,” Nayeon responded cautiously. “The nature of your job… complicates… things. It makes sense that you have feelings for some of the girls, and it makes sense that they develop feelings for you.”
“God, I must sound so stupid right now,” you chuckled meekly. “I should just be grateful for what I have, shouldn’t I?"
“You’re not stupid,” Nayeon reassured you. “Your job basically made this inevitable, but as long as you’re honest about what you do, I think the ten of us will be able to get through whatever happens.”
“It must be so difficult for the members who have started to develop feelings, knowing that I’m still sleeping with their friends.”
“You’re right.”
“Nayeon…” you turned to stare into her eyes, noticing now they weren’t dry.
“Don’t apologize,” Nayeon whispered, wiping her eyes clean. “I did for a moment, but not anymore.”
“I didn’t mean to-”
“I said don’t apologize,” Nayeon cut you off before standing up. “But you should really go see Sana, like you said, she’s waiting for you.”
You stood up as well, standing right in front of her.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m perfect,” she smiled at you. “Really, those feelings are gone, this is just a mutually beneficial, if not somewhat unorthodox, agreement between two adults.”
Hearing that would have probably hurt if you believed a word she just said.
“Have a good night, Nayeon.”
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A/N:
Huh, how long has it been since I updated this story? I hope I have the time to keep working on it because I have SO MANY PLANS. I've also become a bit more sappy, so I think I might be releasing some more emotional chapters with less smut? We'll see!
Once again I must admit, I am putting a bit less effort in the sense that I am just writing with how I feel instead of overthinking and planning every little detail. Maybe less effort isn't the proper phrasing, but basically I'm just going more with the flow.
Hopefully you guys enjoy, I actually planned on including Sana's part in this chapter, but I made a few changes and decided it should be a separate chapter. Cliffhanger and all that I guess.
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grimm-writings · 2 months
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rainfall
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…ft! dazai, chuuya, fyodor x gn! reader
…tags! fluff, some hurt/comfort on dazai’s, headcanon format, rainy day off with the boys!
…wc! 308 ; 369 ; 345 = 1022 
…notes! i don’t think i’ve ever seen fluffy idiot content of fyodor. i must rectify this.
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Dazai
Dazai treasures rainy days more than anything.
“Oops sorry Kunikida, I can’t come in to work!!! Rain is just sooo heavy you know?”
The office is literally down the block he’s just not bothered
Who needs work when he has his beautiful partner?!
That’s what he whispers to you with a giggle and a grin as he nuzzles into your back.
Most times, that’s all it really comes to: a sleepy Dazai, cute compliments, and being lovingly held against your will.
Other days, it isn’t so easy.
He’s like a rock. The only notion you have that he’s awake is one of his eyes staring at the window outside, at the rain.  He doesn’t even message about his absence in advance this time – that’s up to you.
He isn’t as snuggly, but he doesn’t stop you from wrapping your arms around him and holding him.
Eating isn’t exactly something on his mind on these sort of days.  Even with that in mind, he’s always sure to quietly thank you when you hand-feed him meals.
Those days are difficult, but you make them easier.
“You have work today, right?  Don’t bother with the dishes,” Dazai calls out to you from the bedroom.  The clattering of the porcelain couldn’t exactly be hidden, you admit. Dazai sighs as you continue washing and drying.  New weight on the bed behind him makes him aware of your presence a few minutes later.  Your arms wrap around him without hesitation. “You don’t have to stay,” he says to you when the silence becomes too much for him. You merely snuggle further into his bandaged body.  “Yeah.  I want to, though.” To his own surprise, Dazai relaxes into your touch and words. “...Well.”  He smiles for the first time all day, softly, and his eyes linger up to the rainfall again.  “If you say so.”
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Chuuya
Days off are all too rare in Chuuya’s line of work.
As soon as he’s free, he’s tiredly at your side, and he is not leaving.
Seriously he is … so clingy when he’s tired.  Whether you’re shorter or taller than him, prepare for his arms to be slung over your shoulders and his face in your hair.
Mention it to him and he’s grumbling all crabby lol.
You’ll have to wake up in the mornings to his work clothes sloppily discarded throughout the hallway to your room.  He wanted to conk out STAT.
He insists he’ll pick it up later (when he’s getting dressed for work again)
Rainy days aren’t exactly anything that stops him from working, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take the opportunity to call in for a day off once in a while.  He can almost hear the smile on Mori’s face over the phone telling him to enjoy it.
He’s fairly average at cooking when he eventually does get up, maybe sometime in early afternoon.  If he’s too sleepy though?  …Yeah, keep him away from the heat.
Overall, it feels… super domestic having these free days with him.  He wouldn’t mind this every day, if the opportunity presents itself.
If you knew you’d be greeted to this, you would have woken up a little earlier to at least catch him. “Mornin’!”  Chuuya leans back against the kitchen counter, breakfast on the table between you two.  A tired smirk is on his face, proud of his cooking.  Simply dressed in his work shirt and his boxers, the look of him is just too much for you to handle right now. You walk over to give him a small peck on the cheek, thanking him gently.  As you eat, wondering what it’d be like if he could make you breakfast every morning, you glance up and point a fork at him. “After this, I want some snuggles for at least another hour.” Chuuya couldn’t stop himself from scoffing playfully at your ‘threat’, resting his chin on his palm.  “Well… I’ll see what I can do.” You smile, digging back into your food.  You know he wouldn’t let you go once you’re back under covers.
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Fyodor
It all started with you judgementally asking if he even has a life outside his work.
You didn’t expect him to get so offended, but his glance over and raised eyebrow gave you all you needed to know about his answer.
The next morning, you didn’t expect to actually have him be beside you as you shake slumber off you.  He’s almost always at his computer by the time you’re up.
It’s not as if Fyodor is neglectful in any way, he’s just … a little peculiar in his habits, for lack of any nicer terms.
Before you could even ask, he’s already greeting you in a gentle voice, tacking on a sweet nickname on the end of it.
Oh.  Oh he was awake the whole time.
This is a competition to him.
You could almost sigh in disbelief.  For someone supposedly so intelligent and wise, he sure has his moments.
Rainy days with Fyodor are spent with him suggesting activities to do together, but it’s very obvious he just put “at home activities” in the search bar and clicked the first link.
You don’t remember having this many board games.  How did he do this.
The night comes to a close as Fyodor sits with you in his lap, finishing up some professionally recorded opera of sorts.  You couldn’t understand half of it, but Fyodor laughed at it a few times, so it must have been good.  His chin rests on your shoulder and you can feel his smile. “So, did I prove you wrong?” “...What, about having a life?”  You can’t help but roll your eyes.  “You sure proved something alright.” Fyodor hums, sarcasm dripping from just that single note.  “You should treat me more fairly.  I wouldn’t do this for anyone else.” You would bite back with another retort, if not for Fyodor twisting his neck so he could peck your lips before resting back against the chair. Trying to ignore the flush of your cheeks, you sigh.  “You’ll get it with practice.” “Ah, so there IS a next time.” “Shut it.”
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