#so if someone gets an eye color slightly wrong
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PERIOD PAIN HEALER !!
PAIRING Step dad!Gojo Satoru x f!reader, Step dad!Toji Fushiguro x f!reader, Step dad!Nanami Kento x f!reader, Step dad!Geto Suguru x f!reader, Step dad!Sukuna x f!reader, Step dad!Shiu Kong x f!reader, Step dad!Hiromi Higuruma x f!reader, Step dad!Kamo Choso x f!reader [seperate]
SYNOPSIS It's understandable that the month's arrival brings with it a series of unpleasant sensations and discomfort that nobody enjoys experiencing. However, things aren't so unpleasant when you have someone to support you through this time, such as your caring stepdad, who is more than willing to assist you in any way possible..
WARNING stepcest, pre-established relationship, comfort, nipple sucking & playing, orgasm through nipple playing, bloody pussy eating, use of four arms for pleasure (sukuna), cock warming, p in bloody v, fingering, use of bad nicknames (geto), clit rubbing, soft sex, clit rubbing with cock
NOTE In my experience, having an orgasm during your period reduces cramps. I wrote it while on my periods lol. I'm just a girl (with daddy issues) ... Some people may find the contents unpleasant. Simply block and move on; please do not make disparaging remarks about me or report my post; if you do, prepare to get trolled by my moots. Please read the warnings and do not do this at home (duh). Reposting cause tumblr removed it.
◈ SATORU GOJO
Gojo's eyes widen as he catches the sight of you clad in one of his oversized T-shirts, your small frame barely managing to contain its folds. You look like a lost little rabbit, shivering slightly, bouncing on your toes as you pace nervously near the bathroom door.
"Hey, hey," Gojo murmurs, brows furrowing as he takes in the sight before stepping closer. His thumb brushes lightly across your cheek, coaxing you to meet his gaze. "What's goin' on, sweetheart?"
His voice is soft, comforting - a stark contrast to his usual cockiness. You look up at him, your eyes filled with uncertainty, and he feels a pang in his chest. Something's clearly off, and he knows he needs to get to the bottom of it.
"Are you alright?" he presses gently, concern coloring his voice as he reaches for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. The gentle pressure of his fingers seems to calm you somewhat, and you nod, averting your gaze.
"Yes...", you mumble, but it sounds more like an excuse than the truth.
He tilts your chin upward, "Don't lie to daddy," he whispers softly, searching your eyes for any hint of distress. There's a tenderness in his voice that surprises you both - unusual for the usually arrogant man. Swallowing hard, he adds, "Tell me what's wrong."
Despite yourself, you find yourself opening up, the words spilling forth: "It's just... uh... cramps, and I feel uneasy."
He kneels on his knees, lifting up your top and leaning in to kiss your vulnerable tummy before softly massaging the area. The touch is firm yet soothing, causing you to relax slightly despite the lingering pain.
"That's better, isn't it?" he remarks, a hint of warmth creeping into his voice. You nod syly not breaking eye contact with him. Gojo's expression softens, and he pulls you into a warm embrace. "Ah, I see.. That feels good.. ," he says, rubbing your back soothingly. "Don't worry about it. Let's take care of you, okay?"
As he gently leads you to your room, Gojo's mind races with ways he can help ease your discomfort. He doesn't want you to suffer, not when he could do something about it.
Once settled on the soft cushions, he slowly slides his hands up and down your abdomen, his other hand cupping one of your breast gently in his large palms. You gasp slightly at the sensation, the nipple tingling under his skilled touch. Gently, he rolls it between his thumbs and forefingers, eliciting a moan from deep within you. This causes him to smirk devilishly and lean in closer.
His warm breath caresses your chest as he whispers, "They hurt too, don't they?"
"Y-yes, a bit," you confess shyly.
His smile broadens, and without further ado, he bends his head down and captures one of your nipples in his mouth. A jolt of pleasure shoots through you as he sucks lightly, increasing the pressure gradually, making you squirm involuntarily. His other hand moves from your abdomen to massage the other breast, his thumb occasionally flicking against the engorged nub.
The sensation is uncomfortable and pleasurable simultaneously, bringing forth an array of mixed feelings within you. He lifts his head briefly, looking into your flushed face with a knowing smile. "This should help alleviate some of the discomfort, my dear. Just let go and enjoy it." He returns to his task, sucking harder on your nipple while tweaking the other, sending waves of sensation cascading through your body.
You can't help but give in to the intense feelings coursing through you, your back arching slightly as he continues his ministrations. Your breathing becomes ragged, and you grip the sheets beneath you, trying to stay grounded in reality.
You find yourself reaching climax unexpectedly, your entire body trembling under his touch. "D-daddy cumming," your lips move to form an involuntary moan, and he looks up, satisfaction written across his features.
He releases your nipple, running his thumb over your mouth before pulling you closer. His voice is velvety smooth as he murmurs, "You came just by me sucking your nipples? Guess you are really sensitive now"
With a satisfied hum, he pulls away, drawing you into his embrace. His arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you close to his chest. "There you go," he mutters, rubbing soothing circles on your stomach as you lean into him. The rhythmic motion quickly lulls you into a sense of comfort, easing the last of your tension.
"Feeling good now?" he asks his crystalline blue eyes turning soft only for you. You nod shyly, closing your eyes momentarily, your heartbeat decreasing.
"Get some rest now, sweetheart. When you wake up, the discomfort will be gone. I'll make sure to stock up on those chocolate candies you love, kikufuku or something similar. That should help cheer you up, yeah?" He speaks into your hair, his voice low and soothing. "And remember, I'm always here for you, no matter what."
Slowly, your eyelids grow heavy, and soon enough, sleep claims you. In his arms, you drift off to dreamland, cradled by his warmth and strength. He watches over you until you're peacefully asleep, then rises from the bed with a content smile, leaving you undisturbed.
◈ TOJI FUSHIGURO
As the pangs begin, you find yourself in agony, groaning softly and clutching your lower abdomen tightly, the whole day you are in your room, you even missed dinner. Suddenly, you hear footsteps to your room, you look up to see your stepdad, Toji, walking into your room with a concerned expression on his face. "What's wrong? Tired of being a brat?" he asks, moving closer to you.
"My period started," you mumble, unable to hide the pain from your voice. "It's so sudden and painful."
Toji, raises an eyebrow in surprise before responding gruffly, "Why do ya always whine about these little things? It happens to everyone! Get over it!" He waves dismissively, leaving you feeling hurt and ignored. Your heart sinks as tears start to form in your eyes, "Don't cry now, I swear I can't tolerate ya's mood swings during these days," he observes you closely for a moment, noticing the genuine distress in your eyes.
After witnessing your pain and tears, Toji's cold exterior crumbles slightly, replaced by tenderness and guilt. Though he is annoyed by how weak and whiny you are, he can't bear to watch his little step daughter suffering. Gently, he props onto your bed, the bed jumping slightly with his weight, as he pulls you close to him, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. He starts to rub your stomach in soft, slow circles, attempting to alleviate some of the pain.
"Sorry," his voice husky with regret, "I didn't mean to be harsh. Let me make it up to you." His hand gradually moves from your stomach to your neck, his thumb gently tracing circles on your tender skin. The sensation mixes with the pressure of his touch, bringing a sense of comfort and relaxation that slowly takes over your body.
"Just close your eyes and rest," he whispers in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "Let me take care of you." As if in a trance, you obey his instructions, allowing his words and touch to lull you into a state of calmness. His hands continue their gentle rhythm, kneading your stomach and caressing your neck, his lips occasionally brushing softly against your cheek.
As you drift off to sleep in Toji's caring embrace, you find solace in his presence and the gentle caresses that soothe your body. The tension in your muscles slowly dissipates, and eventually, exhaustion claims you. Time passes unnoticed as you both rest, your breathing deepening and evening out into peaceful slumber.
However, as night falls, your cramps return with a vengeance, waking you up from your peaceful slumber with a gasp. You wriggle uncomfortably, your hands instinctively clutching your stomach as pain courses through you. Your eyes flutter open to find Toji also awake, concern etched upon his features. He watches you intently, his own face contorted with worry as he observes your discomfort.
He repeats this motion multiple times, his tongue tracing intricate patterns across your sensitive skin, each movement accompanied by soft, reassuring whispers. His hands reach for yours, pulling them away gently from your stomach. "Shh, don't worry," he murmurs, concern evident in his voice. "I know it hurts, but we don't have any heating pads or medication here. What if I try something else?" He looks at you expectantly, a glint of determination in his eyes.
You nod hesitantly, unsure of what else could possibly help. Slowly, he shifts his position, leaning closer to you. His gaze locks onto your stomach, his expression intense as he focuses on the task at hand. Then, without warning, Toji presses his lips to your stomach, the warmth of his breath sending waves of relief throughout your tense muscles. His tongue darts out, lightly flicking at your skin, causing a shiver to race down your spine. Surprised, you let out a small moan, your body reacting to his unexpected touch.
You get caught off guard by Toji's sudden move, you let out a soft squeak as he swiftly removes your shorts and panties. Embarrassment washes over you, but his determined gaze leaves no room for protest. He glances at your blood-covered pad, a hint of curiosity in his green eyes, as if studying the sight for the first time.
Before you can recover from the shock of his actions, he holds you firmly but gently in place, his hands strong on your hips, pinning you to the bed.
"Please...don't do anything.. It's weird," you stammer, your eyes wide with surprise and embarrassment, but there's a hint of desire there too - this wasn't exactly an unwelcome sensation.
"Shhh," he hushes you, his voice rough with desire. "This might help, trust me." And with that, he lowers his head, his mouth approaching your bloody core.
As soon as his mouth touches you, the sensation is overwhelming. The warmth of his lips combined with the wet heat of his tongue sends shivers down your spine. His movements are neither tentative nor shy, rather they're hungry and bold, as if he's been waiting for this moment for a long time.
Blood colors his lips and chin as he continues to feast on you. Despite the circumstances, a strange mixture of pleasure and embarrassment fills you.
"It feels so...weird but good," you confess, biting your lip as pleasurable shivers rack your body.
Toji lifts his head, his gaze locked on yours, "Good?" he queries, his voice thick with lust. His eyes reflect a primal satisfaction that overwhelms any semblance of shame or guilt. Your response seems to ignite something within him, and he dives back in with renewed vigor, his tongue delving deeper, his hunger growing stronger. The scent of your blood mingled with your natural arousal fills the air, heightening the intensity of the experience.
With Toji's relentless attention, it doesn't take long for you to reach your climax. Your body arches involuntarily, a gasp escaping your lips as waves of pleasure crash over you. He feels it too, the tremors beneath him signaling your release. His tongue never stops its steady pace, guiding you through the peak of your ecstasy until you finally collapse back onto the bed, panting heavily.
Toji pulls away with a satisfied hum, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand before looking up at you with half-lidded eyes. "That should help the cramps," he states, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
But instead of leaving, he crawls up alongside you, pulling you into another tight embrace. "Rest now, kay?," he whispers, nuzzling your neck as he speaks. "We'll deal with anything else tomorrow."
Despite the unusual circumstances, you find comfort in his arms once again. His chest rises and falls steadily next to yours, his heartbeat a calming rhythm that lulls you back into slumber. The night stretches ahead, quiet and peaceful, with nothing but the two of you sharing the same space.
◈ NANAMI KENTO
As the door creaks open, you know right away it's Nanami stepping in. The scent of his cologne wafts towards you, signaling his arrival. You glance up from the couch and look towards the hallway, anticipating his arrival.
"Hey, honey," he greets softly, voice carrying a hint of weariness. "How are you doing?"
You give him a weak smile, trying to hide the pain you feel from your period. "Just dealing with some cramps, dad," you reply, trying to sound as casual as possible. "No big deal."
He nods, offering you a sympathetic look as he walks closer, then removes his jacket & glasses and places his work bag on the coffee table. "Well, let's see if there's anything I can do to help you out," he says, reaching out to gently brush your hair aside.
"Oh, don't worry about me, dad," you assure him quickly, attempting to put on a brave face despite the discomfort. "It's not that bad. But thank you for asking."
Nanami raises an eyebrow at you, studying your expression carefully. "Don't try to lie to me, sweetheart, I can see your toes curling from the pain" he says gently. "I understand how painful these periods can be. Here, come. Let me help you, okay?", he says gesturing you on his lap.
You hesitate for a moment, feeling embarrassed about showing your weakness in front of him. However, Nanami's concern is evident in his eyes and you can't resist the urge to lean into his comforting embrace. As you sit on his lap, he wraps his arms around you tightly, providing you with warmth and support.
"There you go," he murmurs softly, rubbing your back in circular motions. "Do you want some painkillers? Maybe a hot pad? Or anything that will lessen your pain?" he offers.
Your body responds instinctively to his touch, moving closer to him unconsciously. You feel yourself grinding against him slightly and gasp, realizing what you've done. Your cheeks flush red with embarrassment, but Nanami remains composed.
"Easy now," he says quietly, placing his hand on your hips to steady both of you. "We'll take care of this quickly, okay?"
Feeling guilty for making him hard, you reach for his pants, running your fingers along the outline of his erection through the fabric. It's hard and warm beneath your touch and you pause before slowly stroking it.
"Will you feel good, if it's in you?", he asks; he is genuinely concerned about your well being more than his own.
You swallow hard, feeling the heat rise to your face once again."Yes, please... I think it would help," you admit shyly.
Nanami looks at you thoughtfully for a moment before nodding slowly. "Alright, then," he says decisively, lifting you up, freeing his member.
Nanami's thumb pushes aside your panties, his other hand positions his shaft at your entrance. He slowly slips into your bloodied cunt, the crimson fluid and your arousal making it easier for him to slide through your gummy walls. You gasp softly at the sensation, your eyes fluttering closed as he stretches your insides.
For a few moments, neither of you moves; his hands resting firmly on your waist, his breath warm on your neck. Then, your hips begin to buck involuntarily against him, seeking deeper penetration. The combination of pain and pleasure sends shivers down your spine.
Your red fluids seeps into his tan-coloured trousers, making them brown. But that's not his concern now. "That's it," Nanami murmurs approvingly, adjusting his grip on your hip as you move. "Let it out, baby girl. Let everything out."
Slowly, he begins to thrust into you, setting a rhythm that matches your movements. His hands roam across your body, finding your nipples and rubbing them lightly. The pleasure intensifies, culminating in soft moans escaping from your lips.
As Nanami's thrusts become more forceful, so does your breathing. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through you and soon enough, you feel the edge of release drawing near.
"Daddy.. A-ah.." You whisper hoarsely, gripping onto him tightly as your orgasm builds up. You're on the verge of losing control, feeling every nerve ending ignite.
A final powerful thrust sends you over the edge, your body trembling and you arching into him. A cry escapes your lips, muffled against his shoulder as you let it all out - all the pent-up frustration, discomfort, and desire colliding together in an intense climax.
Nanami holds you close, riding out your orgasm until the last ripple subsides. Once you're stable, he pulls out his blood-coated shaft slowly, leaving you slightly empty but content.
"There you go," he whispers reassuringly as you leans onto his chest. "That should help ease the cramps."
You lean into him, panting heavily as your mind starts to clear. The tension from the day dissolves away, replaced by a sense of satisfaction.
"Thank you, Daddy," you murmur gratefully, your voice shaky yet sincere.
Nanami smiles gently, kissing your temple. "Anything for my little girl," he promises softly.
◈ GETO SUGURU
Your stepfather, Suguru, has always been distant but kind when necessary, and you knew that he will help you with this matter as well. He takes care of all your needs, giving you various stuffs to help you go through your periods. Despite your gratitude, the fact remains that he despises non-sorcerers.
“You should be grateful I take care of such filth. Monkeys are disgusting creatures", he says while rubbing your back gently.
"Sorry for being a burden..", you reply, your eyes getting teary once again.
His face softens slightly as he continues comforting you, trying to make sure you feel better despite his true thoughts about you,
“Don’t worry about being a burden. It’s my duty to take care of you too, after all. Now focus on feeling better, monkey.”
"S'top being mean...", you speak nuzzling your head against his chest.
Surprised by your sudden reaction, he quickly puts aside his arrogance and focuses entirely on relieving your pain. A smile forms on his lips, albeit reluctantly, as he pats your head gently, secretly enjoying the momentary affection. “I’m not being mean, child. Just stating the truth. But since you asked nicely, I’ll stop for now.”
You relax in his embrace, yet flinch occasionally when cramps pain you. Gently rubbing your lower abdomen in a circular motion, he asks, “Are you okay? This shouldn’t hurt this much.”
As he continues his ministrations, his hands accidentally brush against your clit, causing a shiver to run through your body, you bite your lip trying to stop an incoming moan. Noticing this, he hesitates for a second, but then decides to continue, figuring that it might provide some relief. “Just let me help you here…” he murmurs softly
Cautiously, he reaches down and begins removing your underwear, making sure not to aggravate your delicate area further. Once it's off, he gently massages your exposed bud.
“This should help ease your discomfort,” he whispers reassuringly, his fingers lingering on your most sensitive spots.
"P-please, your hands are getting dirty..", your hands moving to stop his. He chuckles dryly at your protest, his expression darkening slightly as he maintains his touch.
“Believe me, I’ve dealt with far worse than this. Now try to relax, monkey.” with that, he continues stroking you, occasionally brushing against your entrance as well.
You gasp softly, trying to contain your growing arousal. The contradiction between his harsh words and gentle touch creates a strange mix of emotions within you.
“Please, don't call me that," you plead, your voice barely audible.
He stops abruptly, his gaze hardening as he meets yours. “There’s nothing wrong with the truth. Now, monkey focus on breathing and letting go of this pain.”
Without warning, he slides two fingers inside you, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from you. His eyes lock onto yours, watching your reactions intently as he starts moving them rhythmically.
“This might be uncomfortable at first, but it will help more than you think.”
Despite your embarrassment, the sensation is unlike anything you’ve experienced before. His skilled fingers create waves of pleasure mixed with pain. You squirm beneath his touch, unsure how to react to your conflicting emotions.
He watches your reactions carefully, his eyes filled with a mixture of satisfaction. "Good girl. Relax and enjoy it. This will make you feel better."
His rhythmic thrusts start to increase, matching the intensity of your growing arousal. You can't help but moan softly, your body responding to his touch despite your reservations.
"That's right. Let it out," he encourages, his voice lowers into a growl, his eyes narrowing slightly as he feels your walls tighten around his digits.
“Feel free to make noise, monkey. You need this release” The deeper he plunges, the stronger your reactions become. Your breath hitches, and you can't help but wrap your legs around his wrist, pulling him closer.
He grins wickedly, twisting his fingers inside you ever so slightly as he continues thrusting. His fingers dance in a way that brings an unusual sense of ecstasy and discomfort simultaneously.
Despite his choice of words, there’s something strangely comforting about his dominance. You find yourself lost in the sensations, your protests fading away until all that remains is the rhythmic movement of his fingers and the occasional muffled moan escaping your lips.
Ignoring the sight of his fingers coated with your crimson fluid everytime he moves out of you, he intensifies his movements, focusing on your pleasure rather than the messiness. Despite his usual contempt, his interest seems to peak with every drop of blood coating his fingers.
“Such a good girl. Love you sweetheart.. Let it all out.” His deep voice echoes in your ears like a chant, urging you to give in to the sensations. As your climax draws near, his words resonate louder in your mind, guiding you towards the peak.
The orgasm hits you like a wave, overwhelming your senses as he skillfully drives you to the edge. Your body trembles beneath him, your nails digging into whatever they could find purchase in, and you cry out.
His expression turns feral as you reach your high, a hint of triumph glimmering in his eyes. When your orgasm subsides, he pulls his fingers out slowly, licking them clean.
Your eyes and mouth, both widen at his action.
"Still feeling pain?", he asks, his demeanor chaning back to normal.
You take deep breaths, trying to regain your composure. Despite the lingering discomfort, there's a newfound sense of warmth within you, thanks to his touch.
“N-no not anymore... Thank you, daddy”, you thank him, your hands reaching for his, attempting to intertwine your fingers with his..
His eyes meet yours, a flicker of surprise passing through them before he smirks. “Of course, my little monkey. After all, it's my responsibility to take care of you too, isn't?", He pinches your cheek, and you nod, tilting back your head to rest.
◈ RYOMEN SUKUNA
Ryomen enters the room, his usual stoic expression barely shifting as he takes in the sight of you, holding your stomach from the cramps. "Uraume," he growls, gesturing towards the you. "Assist her." Turning his gaze back to you, he studies you for a moment before speaking again. "Your monthly curse approaches, huh? I suppose it can't be helped. Uraume will help you with the pain. Stay still, and try not to-"
"P-please.. I need you", you protest, wanting to be comforted only by him.
"Hmm, I see" Sukuna raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the request. He slowly moves closer, examining your face before pulling you close to him gently.
With a sigh, he concedes. "Very well, your pleading is... entertaining. Lie down, and we shall see if I can ease your suffering."
He helps you onto the soft tatami mat, gently placing a pillow underneath your head. He reaches out to untie your obi, revealing your delicate undergarments. Carefully, he lifts them aside and lowers his head towards you then begins to lick and nibble at your flesh, blood droplets landing on his tonue.
"S-stop i-its dirty!", you protest, try to push his massive head away from your core.
He grins devilishly, his eyes gleaming in delight as he grasps your legs firmly with his two powerful arms. While his third hand expertly kneads your breast, his 'mouth' forms from the fourth one, closing over your nipple possessively. He sucks gently, causing your body to arch involuntarily.
"Hmph, you taste delicious. Just like ripe fruit..." He hums, his breath hitting your core. You feel yourself becoming flushed, his actions both embarrassing yet exhilarating. Despite your protests, you can't deny the pleasure coursing through you.
As his lips trace delicately across your skin, you begin to feel a warm sensation building within you. Your breathing becomes ragged, and your hips buck subconsciously. Slowly, his skilled hands and mouth bring you closer and closer to the edge. Finally, you let out a muffled cry, your release washing over you.
Once you've caught your breath, he pulls away, satisfaction radiating from his gaze. "There, much better. Your monthly pain curse should subside now." He smirks, wiping his mouth clean before standing up. "You may rest, dear. Remember, I am here to assist you whenever you need, even with such trivial matters."
With a final glance at your flushed face, Ryomen licks his lips slowly, his eyes lingering on your twitching body for just a moment longer. Then, to your astonishment, he leans in and presses his lips against your stomach.
"Goodnight, my dear." He says, disappearing into the shadows with a soft rustling of robes, leaving only the faintest.
◈ SHIU KONG
"Hey there, kiddo," he asks softly, setting down his cigarette on the table. "How are you feelin' today?" He knows your cycle started yesterday and he just wanna make sure you're alright. "Need anything from me? Want some ice cream?" he suggests with a crooked smile, trying to lighten the mood.
"N-NO", you nearly yell at him but soon realise you shouldn't have; your mood swings are getting the best of you.
"Alright, alright." He chuckles, raising his hands defensively. "I wasn't gonna force you to eat ice cream if you don't want to.. Just making an offer."
He stands up, crossing the room to sit next to you. His large hand gently rests on your shoulder. "Just let me know if you need anything, okay?" His eyes widen at the sudden appearance of tears, concern filling his face. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his chest.
"What's goin' on, huh? What's got you all upset?" He strokes your hair gently, trying to offer comfort. "You know you can tell me anything, right? I won't judge you."
The warmth of his embrace seeps into your bones, "Just cramps..", you reply, your voice slightly shaken by your emotions.
"Ah, that's rough," he says, nodding understandingly. "Let me grab you some painkillers, then. And maybe a heating pad to help ease those cramps."
As he gets up, he adds, "Try to relax, alright? We'll get through this together."
The way he says 'we' makes your heart skip a beat, but you push the thought away, focusing on the relief of his words.
"C-can you just stay here and", you pull his hand and direct it around your abdomen where it aches, "please massage it?"
Surprised, Shiu looks down at your hands, then back into your eyes. "Of course," he murmurs, resting one hand on your tummy and the other on your thigh. His fingers press gently, moving in slow circles. "Is this okay?"
His palm warms against your skin, alleviating some tension. You let out a shaky groan, giving in to his touch and allowing him to make you feel better.
He swallows hard, adjusting his grip, pressing deeper into your abdomen. The heat from his hand spreads, easing some of the pain.
"Better?" he whispers, concern etched onto his face. "Don't worry," he continues, glancing away nervously. "I've dealt with enough curse users in my career to handle a little cramping."
As his hands move rhythmically across your stomach, his eyes catch yours, lingering for just a moment too long. They try to ignore the electric charge between them.
"Yes..." you answer breathlessly, closing your eyes. "That feels good..." Your body responds to his touch, and you can't help but wish it would last forever.
Shiu shifts his patterns, from rubbing your abdomen to sliding through your shorts to rub against your clad clit. You are too absorbed in pleasure to notice his hand slipping through your shorts. When you come back to your senses, your eyes follow the movement of his hands.
"I said I'd help with the cramps, not..." he trails off, glancing away sheepishly. "Sorry, didn't mean to get carried away", tries to take his hands off you, when you stop him.
"N-no daddy, feels good", you speak timidly, not making eye contact with him.
He freezes for a second, his eyes widening. He chuckles, though it sounds shaky. "Guess you got a bit carried away too, huh?" With a smirk, he resumes his massage, adjusting his hand to provide more pressure to your clit. He leans closer, his free hand coming to cup your cheek.
"You alright?" he asks, concern coloring his voice. "This isn't making things worse, right?" You shake your head, still avoiding his glances. "Well, well," he chuckles, his fingers continuing their dance. "Seems like someone's enjoying this more than they should."
He rubs his thumb agains your lips. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna do anything you don't want. Just trying to make you feel better."
His touch grows bolder, his hand removing your shorts and panties to rub your clit bare. Your body flinches on direct contact.
His hand pauses, his eyes meeting yours. The look in his eyes is a mix of surprise and exhilaration. "Shall I continue?" he asks, concern filling his tone.
"Yes... yes please," you whisper, blushing furiously.
His eyebrows raise, but he nods slowly. "Okay, just let me know if it's too much, alr?" His fingers resume their movement, rubbing your swollen clit with renewed vigor. You moan softly, leaning into his touch.
He takes advantage of your vulnerability, his other hand sneaking under your shirt to caress your breast. His fingers brush against your nipple, and you gasp, arching into his touch. A shiver runs down your spine, your thighs parting naturally to accommodate his hand.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" he whispers, his hand moves downwards, exploring your stomach, hips, and thighs.
Then, you finally cry out, your legs trembling as an orgasm rips through you, more crimson fluid oozing from within you. Shiu freezes, his eyes wide, "Whoa, whoa, easy there, kiddo," he mutters.
He stops his ministrations, allowing you to recover from your climax. When you finally regain control, he lets out a quiet laugh. "Didn't expect that," he admits, shaking his head slightly. "But hey, if it feels good, then I guess I did a good job"
"Y-yes felt good.. T-thanks dad..", you admit swallowing hard.
"I'm glad, really," he replies, his hands returning to your stomach. His eyes finally meeting yours again.
"But you know," he says hesitantly. "If you ever need a hand... helping you out, you can count on me, right girl?" He smiles, cupping your jaw. "Just remember that."
◈ HIGURUMA HIROMI
Upon returning from work, Hiromi notices his little girl curled up in bed, clutching her abdomen in obvious discomfort. Immediately, concern fills his usually stoic expression. He gently approaches you and examines your face, trying to gauge the severity of your pain.
"Darling," he whispers softly, trying not to startle you. "Are you unwell?" His hand rests lightly on her forehead, feeling for any signs of fever.
You shift in your sleep whispering, "Period pain"
Hiromi's brow furrows with worry, realizing what might be causing your discomfort. He reaches out to grab a pillow and gently places it under your knees to ease the pressure on your lower abdomen.
"I'm so sorry," he says, tenderly. "Didn't expect this to happen today. Let me make you something warm and comforting to help ease the pain."
He stands up to leave for kitchen when you stop him by his hands. "P-please you don't need to do anything.."
He looks down at you, his heart aching for the discomfort you must be experiencing. He understands your desire to handle things independently, but as your stepdad, he feels responsible for taking care of you.
"No matter how grown-up you try to be," Hiromi says softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead, "You're still my little girl, and I want to help you feel better." He kneels beside the bed again and takes your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Tell me what will make you feel better"
"You..", you reply instantly and involuntarily.
Hiromi looks at you confused by your request," Me?"
Words stuck in your throat as you swallow hard while speaking again, "inside me.."
Hiromi's eyes widen slightly at your unexpected words. He releases a quiet breath, trying to process what you are asking of him. There's a moment where confusion lingers in his gaze before understanding dawns upon him.
"I... I understand," he says in a measured tone. "But are you sure about this?"
His fingers trace gentle circles on the back of your hand, offering both comfort and support. "It's alright if you're uncomfortable discussing it. We can find another way to help with the pain."
You speak again slowly, not meeting his gaze. "Please.."
Hiromi swallows hard, a mix of emotions churning in his chest. Surprise, worry, and protectiveness all coalesce into a single determination. He knows he can't force himself onto you, no matter how much he wants to ease your pain. But he also recognizes your need for comfort and relief.
"Alright," he agrees quietly, rising from the bed to move to the foot of it. "Let's get you more comfortable first."
With utmost gentleness, Hiromi eases you onto your back, making sure you're lying flat and secure on the bed. He removes your remaining clothing, ensuring you're comfortable throughout the process. Once you're settled, his fingertips brush against your skin, eliciting a shiver from you.
"Sorry," he murmurs, his voice barely audible. "Just trying to make you as comfortable as possible."
He prepares himself, taking off his garments and discarding them on the floor, "Ready?" he asks quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
A tremulous nod is your response, your eyes locked with his. Hiromi smiles softly, reaching for your legs. He spreads them apart gently, his touch tender yet purposeful.
"We'll take this slowly," he promises, his thumbs brushing the inside of your thighs. Your thighs shake slightly, but he stops immediately. "If at any moment you feel pain or discomfort, please tell me, okay?"
You give a small nod, and he continues, his fingers tracing along your inner thighs before eventually finding their way to your core. A nervous flutter courses through you, but he remains patient and gentle.
"Just relax," he instructs as he directs himself between your legs.
Hiromi enters you slowly, taking his time to allow your body to adjust to his presence. He moves with careful precision, each thrust deliberate and unhurried. A deep sense of tenderness fills him as he looks into your eyes, gauging your reaction. Your breath hitches with each movement, but there's no sign of distress.
"How are you doing?" he asks softly, his pace matching the rhythm of your breathing.
"Good..so good.. It's so deep and it's.. a-ah", you flinch at his sudden and rough thrust.
Hiromi winces slightly at your discomfort, stopping instantly. "I'm sorry, darling. I didn't mean to cause you pain." He pulls out slowly, his expression full of concern.
"No, it's fine..." you breathe out. "Don't stop..."
He studies your face for a moment, making sure you're truly okay. When he sees your nod, he begins again, moving slower than before.
As his movements continue, his shaft becomes coated with your menstrual blood. Despite the unusual circumstance, Hiromi pushes those thoughts aside and focuses solely on providing comfort and relief. Each stroke is filled with tender care, designed to bring warmth and pleasure rather than discomfort.
Your eyes close, your body arching ever so slightly with each thrust. The room is filled with nothing but the sounds of your soft moans and his steady breaths.
As the minutes pass, Hiromi can feel your body responding to his touch, the subtle changes telling him you're nearing your climax. His own heart races, feeling a strange mixture of pride and protectiveness. All he desires is to provide you with comfort and release.
"That's it," he whispers, his tempo increasing ever so slightly. "Let go, darling. Let the pleasure wash away your pain."
Suddenly, your body tenses, a wave of ecstasy washing over you. Hiromi matches your intensity, his own breath catching in his throat as he feels your muscles clench around him. With one final surge, he follows you over the edge, your bodies moving in perfect sync.
As your orgasm subsides, Hiromo collapses onto your chest, his heart pounding heavily against yours. He kisses your forehead softly, his breath ragged. "There you go," he murmurs.
"Thank you for trusting me," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "I hope this helped alleviate your pain."
You look up at him, a grateful smile gracing your lips. "Thank you, it does not pain anymore"
Smile washes over Hiromi's face as he realizes his actions have indeed brought you relief. He pulls out slowly, carefully cleaning up afterwards. Once done, he helps you get cleaned and comfortable, tucking you in tightly.
Hiromi wraps you in his arms, feeling your gratitude like a soothing balm on his soul. He holds you close, stroking your hair gently as you snuggle against his chest. The silence between you speaks volumes about the bond shared - one of love, protection, and unspoken understanding.
"Get some rest now," he says softly, his voice lulling you further into relaxation.
◈ CHOSO KAMO
As a stepfather, Choso is there for you in times of need. Right now, you're going through your period, and he's ready to help take care of you. He's not bold or confident, but he knows how important it is to support you during this time.
Being a curse, Choso is indeed curious about the human body. As he helps you with your period, he finds himself fascinated by your menstrual cycle. He wants to comfort you and learn more about this natural process, taking care of you while gently studying your body.
Gently, Choso holds you close as you lay on his thighs, the cramps making you hiss occasionally. His fingers lightly trace circles over your stomach, attempting to provide comfort as he absorbs the rhythm of your pain. The unfamiliar feeling of caring for someone heals a part of him, even though it's something as simple as relieving period cramps.
"Are you okay?" Choso whispers softly, concern lacing his voice. "I've never experienced something like this before... I want to help, but I'm not sure what to do." He continues stroking your stomach, trying to find some relief for you and hoping his touch brings comfort amidst the discomfort.
You force a smile, saying you're fine, but Choso can tell you're not. Your words don't match the tension in your body. He carefully moves closer, placing his hands between your legs, gently caressing your stomach in a slow, soothing motion.
"May I try massaging your lower abdomen?," he suggests, cautiously approaching your abdomen. His fingers are warm and soft, hesitating slightly as he seeks your permission. "It might help with the cramps," he adds, his dark purple eyes filled with concern. He's never done this before, but he wants to help you feel better. He's always been interested in human bodies and their functions, but now he's learning more intimately.
Reluctantly, you nod, allowing Choso to continue massaging your lower abdomen. His fingers move slowly, tracing gentle patterns that might bring you some relief. As he works his fingers, you instinctively start grinding against his hand, seeking more friction to ease your discomfort. Choso notices this, but doesn't stop.
As his fingers reach closer to your core, you let out soft moans that he interprets as pleasure rather than pain. He sees how much you enjoy it, and decides to use his other hand too, cupping your hip to guide you into proper position. He studies your reactions, understanding that the sensation seems to bring you relief. The curves of your hips and the heat of your body under his hands make him feel both excited and responsible for your well-being.
"Is this helping?" he asks, his voice low and husky, portraying a hint of excitement. "I'm not sure if I'm doing this right, but I think it might be working." He watches your movements closely, guided by your responses. Every moan, every small sound of pleasure fuels his curiosity and makes him wonder how else he could make you feel good.
Despite his confusion and innocence, Choso can't ignore the growing attraction between you both. His cock starts to stiffen, pressing against his clothes. He groans softly trying to hide his arousal but you soon turn your head to reveal his massive bulge pressing against your head.
"I'm sorry," he mutters, embarrassed by his reaction. "This wasn't supposed to happen..." He's unsure how to handle the situation, partially aroused and partially concerned for you. "Should we stop?"
"P-please, let me grind against it", with a mix of surprise and nervousness, you beg him to let you grind against his erection. Choso's heart races; this isn't what he expected. Reluctantly, he places your head on the pillow, positions himself between your legs and undoes your pants, revealing your bloodied and swollen pussy. His eyes widen, he has never seen something like this.
He pulls out his own hard cock making sure he does everything to make you feel better. Carefully, he guides the head of his cock to your throbbing clit, rubbing it back and forth in small motions. Your contractions push your wet folds onto the tip of his shaft, leaving a trail of blood. Choso can't help but groan, feeling the warmth and wet folds rubbing against his member.
Choso looks into your eyes, seeking consent or dismissal. What he sees is desire, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
Swallowing hard, he feels a strange mixture of arousal and responsibility. Choso's pace increases as both of you moan heavily. He keeps rubbing his cock against your clit, feeling your wetness increase with each thrust.
Soon, you climax, shaking in his grasp, and he can't hold back anymore. Aching to release his own tension, Choso spills his cum onto your belly, still rubbing his cock against your clit. The warmth of your body and the sight of his seed spreading over your skin overwhelm him. "I'm—I'm sorry," he mumbles, pulling away. "That wasn-"
You interrupt him with "T-thank you.."
Choso's face turns bright red, but he can't deny the gratitude in your voice. Confusion clouds his mind, but he appreciates your Thank you.
"Y-you're welcome..." He stammers, trying to catch his breath. Despite everything, he feels satisfied knowing he brought pleasure to you. "Do you feel better now?"
"Y-yes so much", you admit.
After a moment, Choso kisses your cheeks gently, surprised at how soft and warm they feel. He stands up, helping you to your feet as well. "Let's clean up," he says quietly, guiding you towards the bathroom.
dividers from @/cafekitsune
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo x reader#gojo smut#jjk gojo#toji x reader#toji smut#toji fushiguro#nanami smut#nanami x reader#geto x reader#geto smut#ryoumen sukuna#jjk sukuna#sukuna ryomen smut#sukuna#shiu x reader#choso smut#gojo satoru#hiromi higuruma x reader#jjk higuruma#higuruma x reader#tw stepcest#choso x reader
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I wanted to request Platonic Boothill and child reader!
After finding out about what happened to Boothill’s daughter wanted to request him finding child reading and taking them in as his own kid and caring for them, taking them to little events or fairs 😭
FEEL SO BAD FOR BOOTHILL ☹️ HE LOST HIS HOME, HIS DAUGHTER AND HIS BODY 😭 IM BALLING MY EYES OUT
— Wunderkind .ᐟ ʚɞ
୨୧ Wunderkind: (noun) a wonder child or child prodigy
Ft. Boothill, gender-neutral reader, platonic. wc: 972
Content: child reader, reader is a sort of 'prize' for an unknown person, the first scene is inspired by mizisua meeting but its platonic, got a little lazy so the rest is headcanons, reader gets surprise adopted, boothill is the best dad ever, he spoils the reader, they both go to fairs and parks often. / a strange man took you in when you were at your lowest. You never knew that you would be at your highest when with him. slight angst but then fluff
Notes: thank you for the request!! i tried my best to incorporate everything that you mentioned. boothill's backstory is so sad and it truly made by tear up, also the IPC sucks.
Fate hadn't been kind to you, you don't remember how you ended up being a so-called prize for a person you barely knew. You don't remember your parent's face nor remember if you even had any. They dressed you up in the fanciest clothes, ones laced with ruffles and the softest cloth, made sure your hair was always neat and tidy. Yet they never actually cared for you, they only wished to show you off as a trophy as they called you.
When out of all the eyes that watched you, they treated you roughly. Grabbing your head and pushing you down to the ground when you didn't meet their expectations, gripping every inch of your arms and leaving blooming bruises in their wake. All while showing you off to everyone in their premise.
You stared blankly at the street, watching people walk by and cars pass. You sat down in an alley way, leaning against the wall of a shop, just, waiting. You had escaped from that manor, from that wretched place. Although you had no hope that you would be free, sooner or later they would find you and bring you back all to restart that agonizing cycle. Just the thought made you squeamish, it made you disgusted.
Your eyes drooped as you looked at people living normal lives, you oh so desperately wished from someone to take you away from this world. As you were lost in your thoughts a pair of boots stopped in front of you, you snapped out of your daydreaming and slowly tilted your head up. Your eyes met with grey ones, you stared blankly at the man in front of you. He had white and black hair, the two colors clashing like yin and yang, it was pretty. He... looked concerned? The man crouched down on one knee to be at your level, you watched him as he did, not once did you take your eyes off of him.
"Hey, uh, ya' okay, kid?" he questioned, his tone was soft and barely above a whisper as if you would run away at the slightest noise. You blinked in surprise, you hadn't expected to be asked such a thing. Your eyes darted somewhere else that wasn't his face, did he want to help you? You considered saying that you didn't want help, but what would that mean for you?
You would be stuck living a life full of emptiness, unfulfilled by your wrongful choice. You looked back at him. He was still there, patiently awaiting your response. "I'm..." You momentarily stopped, your throat felt dry, you swallowed. "I'm lost and... alone, " you squeaked out. Although this wasn't the entire truth, yet it wasn't a complete lie either.
"Hm.." He hummed as his eyebrows furrowed, a conflicted expression on his face. He then perked up or rather tensed. He noticed a bruise, one which is black and dark purple at the moment, looks like a darker spot beneath your sleeve. He slowly reached out towards your arm, and he looked back at you. "May i?" He asked, his robotic fingertips gracing the edge of your long sleeve. Your eyes widened slightly, but you nodded. You suppose that this man really does want to help you.
He gently grasped your smaller hand in his, it was cold and stiff. Yet it didn't feel like theirs, this one was careful, considerate. The cool material felt nice against your sweaty palms.
The bruise spread from halfway up your arm down to almost your wrist, a deep purple-black bruise that stood out from the lighter colors of your clothes. It looks like it was recently made and very painful. The man looked stunned, as if this wasn't a normal occurrence. Well, you guess it wasn't for anyone else other than you. "Yer gonna need medical care, bud." He swiftly picked you up in his arms, holding you softly as if you would break in an instant.
You jumped slightly; you weren't used to being picked up nor touched in a way that wasn't aggressive for that matter. He led your arms to wrap around his neck, "Hold on, bud." He grinned at you, showing off his shark-like teeth. You stared in awe at your savior, being helped felt... nice. No one had ever been at your Beck and call, only ever "helped" when they wanted.
Tears sprung up into your eyes. You closed them tightly, not wanting to be seen in such a vulnerable state. "Thank you..." You whispered as you burried you head into the junction of his neck. He smiled and stroked the back of your head.
"Uhm.." You hummed out "What's your name mister?" Your head turned to look at him as your cheek was pressed against his shoulder blade. "Boothill, don't forget it." He chuckled and started walking to the nearest hospital.
You nodded, taking his words into account.
You wouldn't forget your savior.
Boothill is the best dad confirmed, he gets you whatever you want, whether it be food, toys, clothes or accessories. He gets it for you.
He's always patting your head or ruffling your hair; you don't mind thought. It's actually very comforting.
CONSTANTLY tells dad jokes and it makes it funnier when he tries cursing but it gets covered up by his synthesia beacon.
The both of you go out often to parks to play. He definitely pushes you on the swings, and helping you go as high as you can. And when he sees your big smile as you reach the bar, he knows he did a good job.
He brought you penacony once (when he was actually let in) and you had the time of your life.
It was very bright but new and exciting.
You got to eat new things that you've never seen before, such as cotton candy
#honkai star rail#platonic relationships#reader insert#gender neutral reader#x reader#hsr platonic#hsr x reader#hsr x reader platonic#boothill honkai star rail#boothill x reader#boothill#boothill hsr#hsr boothill#boothill x reader platonic#found family#hsr#star rail#hsr spoilers
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probably an unpopular opinion but people really should refrain from correcting artist’s artworks
#I’ve definitely been guilty of this in the past#of which I’m pretty embarrassed about#but it costs you nothing to just not saying anything#or make criticism even if it’s contructive#unless they ask#to share one’s art can really vulnerable#and speaking as an artist a LOT of us don’t post everything we make#why??#because it’s not always easy putting yourself out there!#so if someone gets an eye color slightly wrong#or you think their nose is too big#they’re clothes are out of period#whatever it is#just let it go#to clarify#whitewashing and culture offensives are different#but you can also always unfollow or block#or send a private message in good faith to educate them#but please for the love of god stop criticizing artists publically
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Consider yourself lucky
heian era sukuna x male reader
A/n: I love glazing sukuna idc what anyone says sukuna is literally so fine and he has done nothing wrong, also i js wanna say ty to @ — mmonikurr for helping me w this :)
Cw: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT : dub-con , belly distortion , two cocks (sukuna) , manhandling , fear play , forced eye contact , begging , reader is stated to have a “feminine figure” but u don’t have to have one if u don’t want one 👍🏽 , praise kink (if u squint hard enough) , mentions of mpreg
Y/n’s eyes fixated on his once beloved clan ‘s home, his breathing came out raggedy and rushed, as if he just ran a marathon.
Who could’ve done such destruction on this big village?
Through the smoke y/n saw a large figure emerge, along with a slightly smaller figure walking beside it. The both of them bared no wounds and actually looked cleaner than ever.
Y/n slowly raised himself from his knees and began steadily walking backwards, keeping his eyes on the two figures who chatted away in front of his burning clan.
Y/n descended into the forest slowly but surely, occasionally making sure his footing was in the correct position. CRACK! Y/n’s face went pale as he realized what he had done.
A stick had perfectly positioned itself below y/n’s foot and snapped in half, causing the big sound. The man wasted no time in running as fast as he could, using the bases of the trees as small boosts as he booked it.
But tonight was not y/n’s night, as he then tripped and fell over an uprooted branch. Fear and adrenaline coursed through y/n’s veins but there was no time to get up, as both the large figure and smaller figure steadily made their way towards the fallen man.
Y/n did nothing but close his eyes and pray to himself that he would be able to survive this night and be able to see another day. The footsteps gradually became closer until they finally stopped by his feet.
“Uraume, check this boy for any injuries” a deep and menacing voice spoke, y/n heard “uraume” hum before being forced onto his knees and having to look into uruame’s red eyes.
Y/n stared into their eyes as they thoroughly checked his face, uruame’s fingers gracefully floated over y/n’s face, taking their time to touch and probe at the man’s face, occasionally rubbing some dirt off of y/n’s face.
“He’s all clear sir” uraume spoke before back to where they once stood. “Good to hear, I don’t want my playthings to be ugly with a face full of scars” the large figure walked towards y/n, their extremely buff and big figure making the smaller male on the ground cower more into the dirt in fear.
“Get up” the bigger male’s voice commanded. Y/n basically jumped to his feet, looking up at the other man’s face with tears in his eyes. “Hm, what a precious boy we have, truly much better looking than all the others” y/n’s cheeks became a sweet pink color as the compliment sunk into his skin.
A pair of large and course hands wrapped themselves around y/n’s waist, causing the male to gasp from the sudden touch. Another pair of hands caressed y/n’s face, “my name is sukuna ryomen , but to you, it ‘s master, got it?” Y/n nodded as soon as sukuna finished his introduction.
“What a feminine body you have.. are you sure you’re not a girl?” Y/n tensed up, “no master.. im no girl..” the smaller male said through trembling lips and in a tiny voice.
Sukuna hummed, “what a shame, I would’ve impregnated you the moment you said you were” y/n ‘s face grew hot with the thought of someone more huger than him rearranging his insides.
“Guess you’ll have to do for now” y/n let out a surprised gasp as he then felt his robe being undone and being swept off his shoulders. The cold air of the night breezed over y/n ‘s exposed skin, making him shiver.
“Aw, want me to warm you up sweet boy?” Sukuna ‘s words were laced with lust and desire, y/n opened his mouth to respond but was then cut off as sukuna ‘s bottom pair of arms lifting him off the ground as if he were nothing.
Y/n and sukuna were now at eye level with each other. Sukuna ‘s four eyes staring deep within the naked man ‘s soul, y/n couldn’t help but avert his gaze away from sukuna ‘s deformed face.
Causing sukuna to get irritated and grab y/n ‘s face with one of his many hands, “look at me, boy, I am your savior, I am your god, so you will treat me as so”.
Y/n could do nothing but whimper and force himself to once again look into sukuna ‘s eyes. “Good boy” ryomen purred, his already cocky smirk growing even more cockier by the second as he looked at y/n’s fearful face.
And just like a god, sukuna dropped y/n back on the forest floor because “mortals have no business being on par with their gods”.
The “god” placed a hand on y/n ‘s head, grabbing a fistful of hair and tugging him more close to his upper inner thigh. “As a servant, you must do everything I say, alright?” Y/n nodded eagerly.
“Hm, that’s what I like to see, now, as your first task for me, you will suck my cock. Got it?” Sukuna watched as y/n shakily nod and reach up to untie his pants lace.
Y/n then grabbed the hem of sukuna’s pants and slowly pulled them down, revealing not only one, but two extremely long and thick cocks. Drool dripped out the corners of y/n ‘s mouth as he stared intently at the two cocks.
Sukuna chuckled, “hasn’t anyone taught you staring is rude?” Y/n blushed and bowed his head, “m-my apologies.. master..” , sukuna chuckled and pulled on y/n ‘s hair. Causing the man to yelp and grab onto sukuna ‘s strong thighs.
Y/n looked up into ryomen ‘s demanding eyes, “well? Get to it slut” , y/n let out a quick ‘yes master!’ Before wrapping his lips around the tip of one of sukuna ‘s cocks while groping the base of the other.
Sukuna groaned as he then moved his hands that were in y/n ‘s hair down to the base of his neck. Y/n licked and slurped on sukuna ‘s big and girthy tip, coating it entirely in saliva.
“Fuck.. go down that shaft, I need to feel my head hit the back of that whorish mouth” y/n did what was asked of him and began to slowly deepthroat sukuna ‘s cock. Gaining a loud and drawn out groan out of sukuna.
Soft and whispered curses leaked out of sukuna ‘s mouth as y/n began to bob his head on sukuna’s cock, making his way down the base.
While y/n worked on sukuna’s top cock, he began to stroke the bottom one at a slow pace, making sure to fondle the balls as well.
“Fuck.. I’m c-cumming.. don’t even try to pull back now, you’re going to take my entire load deep in that slutty throat of yours” and just like that, sukuna came in y/n ‘s mouth, coating his once pink insides a creamy white.
Sukuna ‘s second cock spurted it’s essence onto y/n ‘s bare chest, some dripping down to his abdomen and down his own cock.
Y/n ‘s pushed himself off sukuna ‘s cock with a gasp, coughing up some left over cum that got stuck in his throat. “We’re not done yet boy, get up”.
The cum-covered man got up, his legs trembling as if he were a newly born fawn. Sukuna ‘s bottom arms wrapped themselves around y/n ‘s waist, hoisting him up to where his head laid comfortably between sukuna ‘s pecs.
Sukuna’s hands then slowly slid down towards y/n ‘s ass, taking the two cheeks into his palms. Spreading them out enough to where y/n ‘s hole was visible. Sukuna then took one of his hands off of y/n ‘s ass to perfectly position one of his cocks directly below y/n ‘s hole.
The sound of the combination of a wet cock and a dry hole filled the quiet forest, along with a surprised moan from y/n. Sukuna smirked at y/n ‘s response, but he wanted a more extreme reaction.
A light went off above sukuna ‘s head as an idea popped into his malicious mind. Ryomen thrusted his hips up, making contact with y/n ‘s plush cheeks. Y/n through his head back as he let out a much more pleasurable and loud moan than before, along with that, a string of a certain warm and creamy white substance squirted out of the tip of y/n ‘s cock.
“Cant even handle a single thrust? This isn’t looking good for you boy” sukuna said with a snicker, y/n was about to argue with him but decided to kept his mouth shut. Ryomen slid y/n back up, earning a groan out of him. Sukuna then grabbed his other cock and positioned beside his other cock.
He slid the tip in, causing y/n to dig his face into the crevasse of sukuna ‘s pecs. And with another thrust, ryomen ‘s other cock had successfully entered y/n ‘s already filled hole.
Y/n clawed at sukuna ‘s arms, drawing a bit of blood. The pain that sukuna was suppose to be feeling was replaced with ecstasy and the desire for more. MORE pain, MORE pleasure.
“Ready?” Sukuna asked, but didn’t wait for y/n ‘s response. Sukuna slid y/n up one last time before delivering a powerful thrust into his hole. Y/n cried out, tears forming in his eyes from the thrust of sukuna ‘s hips.
Ryomen continued to deliver harsh and heavy thrusts into y/n ‘s already recked hole, y/n begged for sukuna to stop, but he was already too far gone in pleasure to be able to hear y/n ‘s pleads.
Y/n felt the many veins that drove along sukuna ‘s long and hard cocks, the veins were enough to drive y/n insane as they rubbed against the tight and gummy walls of his insides.
Sukuna ‘s cocks twitched, signaling that he was close to his release. Y/n sobbed as he realized that he would be downgraded to nothing but a cumslut and a cocksleeve for a curse that was way more stronger than him in every way.
“Take my kids into that precious hole of yours slut, maybe then you could actually gain a purpose for something” y/n knew what “purpose” he would gain, he would become a mother to children he could not bare.
With a couple more thrusts, y/n felt sukuna ‘s cocks unload their last gallon of cum into his once pure hole.
Sukuna breathed heavily, trying to catch an ounce of fresh air in the steamy and hot ecosystem him and his new slut had made.
“Consider yourself lucky I didn’t kill you, but now, you must work for me, you’ll worship me and my existence altogether, your nothing without me, your only purpose for me is to be a hole I can put my two cocks in and bare my kids in that stomach of yours” sukuna whispered delicately into y/n ‘s ear. Causing the poor man to shiver and shakily nod.
“Uraume, mind cleaning me and my new toy?”
#sukuna x male reader#sukuna x reader#bottom male reader#sub male reader#𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 — *+:｡.｡#jjk x male reader#jjk x reader#wait i’m goated#i’m cooking#male reader smut
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Let Me in ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader
Chapter 3
Word Count ~ 2.5k
Rating ~ Explicit
CW ~ blood and gore, body horror, character death, minor violence, dubious consent, sexual content
Also available on AO3
Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok
You sit on the side of the bed that had once belonged to Francis Mosses.
The comforter and top sheet have already been pulled down. You lean over to slide out of your low heeled pumps, tucking the pair of navy leather shoes neatly under the bed.
There’s a bible on the nightstand. A worn looking copy. Beside it a glass with a shallow amount of water resting in the bottom, the remnant of a late night attempt to quench thirst, perhaps.
The doppelgänger watches your movements. How methodical each action is. Slow and deliberate. You’re stalling.
He settles beside you and the mattress creaks as the springs are compressed. That odd sort of shimmer you’d noticed earlier outside the security booth outlines his frame for a brief moment. A surge of light and color as the skin ripples before settling. They still weren’t completely able to disguise what they were. All hope was not lost.
Your own fate, however, seems sealed. You lie down slowly, carefully. You feel as if you are laying yourself to rest in your own coffin. Turning your face ever so slightly to see if there is any trace of the man that had once slept here, some lingering scent or an indent from his face. Nothing but the fragrance of clean linen. The imposter moves as if to join you but you halt him, your fingers closing over his forearm. Your first time touching him and not the other way around. “Take your shoes off.”
The creature snickers, glancing down at the scuffed oxfords he’s wearing. Overdue for a shine. “What possible difference does that make?”
“It’s respectful. You never put your shoes where someone sleeps.”
“He won’t be sleeping here ever again.”
You inhale sharply, wincing. “Please just do it.” You can’t say why you’re so hung up on this. Only that it seems the right thing to do. A small thing in a sea of wrongs that you’re clinging to like a life preserver.
“Fine.” He acquiesces, bending to unlace them. There is no care in his actions. Just brisk, impatient pulls to undo the knotted ties. Then he is lying beside you. Your heads sharing the same pillow. Francis only used a single one, apparently. Preferring to slumber lying with his head and neck rather flat. You always used two fluffy pillows, minimum.
You can hear the sound of music starting to play, emanating from the resident’s apartment next door.
Mia Stone, perhaps. The blonde teacher who was Dr. Afton’s fiancée. You instantly recognize the musical artist crooning through the walls: Billie Holiday.
I say I'll move the mountains
And I'll move the mountains
If he wants them out of the way
You would have loved to play this record for Francis. You envision trying to dance in the cramped space of the living room, twirling around in his arms. “Did he really like my fragrance?” You know the creature could lie, of course. He’d say anything to manipulate you and get what he wanted. But you have to ask. Your heart won’t let you avoid the query.
The dark eyes of the pretender regard you. You detect no malice or dishonesty there. “Yes,” he says simply.
You close your eyes, sighing. “What else did he like about me?”
“Your smile, gifted once you were certain it was really him. The way you covered your mouth when you laugh, making some little relieved joke when you passed his identification and entry request back to him each day. The strands of hair that came loose around your face as the day wore on into late afternoon when he returned from his route. The—”
“—Stop. Please.” Tears well in your eyes. They didn’t sound like the kind of details the deceiver would create on his own. There was a note of truth to them. Genuine recollections. He truly was all that remained of Francis Mosses. A man that had been fond of you. You could have been with him, if only you’d been a little braver.
“You asked me to tell you.”
“I know. It’s just overwhelming.”
Like the wind that shakes the bough
He moves me with a smile
“Your kind is so fond of music. Your milkman was always humming. I don’t see the use for it.”
The your wrenches your heart. He wasn’t yours. Never would be. “It’s a way to expression emotions. When words alone aren’t enough.”
“Hmmm.” He reaches out and you flinch. “Why are you fighting this so hard? This is what you wanted.”
“I didn’t want Francis to die.” You pause, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “Why do you want this?”
”Curiosity. An experiment of sorts. There has never been a union between our kind. Not of this nature. A desire to know what it feels like. To see what might result.”
You shudder. An experiment. Using you like some kind of animal for breeding. A mere whim.
He reaches again and this time you force yourself to hold steady, your chin lifting with a short jerk of defiance. Your hair is his goal. Tucking it back behind one ear. Maybe something the milkman had wanted to do. There’s a sudden softness in the doppelgänger’s eyes. As if the human he’d once been was peeking through at you. You find yourself melting again, your defenses coming down.
I say I'll care forever
And I mean forever
He moves closer to you. Inching over across the white fitted sheet. A thumb strokes away one of the tears that has escaped its prison. He captures the other from the opposite cheek, bringing it to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste the droplet. “Salt,” he says, recognizing the mineral.
He kisses you.
You’re not sure if it’s better to think of the man you had loved or not. Was it dishonoring his memory or was it a way to keep him present in some vague capacity? There’s no clumsiness this time. He knows the feel of your mouth. The way to shift against you. Tongue mapping past smooth cheeks and dragging along the carpet of muscle at the base of that maw. Maybe it was better to pretend this was Francis after all. You cup the back of his neck, fingers teasing the edges of his milk chocolate tresses. Curling slightly on the ends. It would be time for a trim soon. Would have been. The illusion you’ve created is crumbling again. Your lips falter, your hand dropping away.
Crazy he calls me
Sure, I'm crazy
Crazy in love am I
“Sweetheart,” the invader murmurs, tasting along your jaw, your neck. “I like the way you smell.” Speaking for himself, not Francis. You hear the sharp intake of air. The hand that had been casually laid across your shoulder slides down until it reaches your breast, gently kneading that globe through the layers of your bra and blouse. “Does this feel good?” His voice is octaves lower than you’d ever heard from the milkman. Slightly raspy and sultry, not unlike the singing voice that permeates through the wood and plaster behind the bed. You don’t dare answer, merely whimpering a little and he seems to take this as an affirmative response.
His hand leaves your breast and finds the top button of your shirt. Always sensible, pure white, part of the uniform standard the company requires. Another threaded plastic disc is pushed through the hole. He works his way down until all those that are exposed have surrendered, the remainder still tucked within your skirt. His fingers part the edges of the fabric encasing your torso, peeling them back to reveal the white satin brassiere beneath. He caresses you briefly through this slick material before tucking inside the cup until he brushes across your areola. Your nipple peaks beneath his ministrations as his lips move back to yours. He is surprisingly gentle, lightly pinching and rolling the aroused tissue. Your body betrays you, responding to the creature’s touch. You should be ashamed, disgusted. Instead you find yourself wanting more.
“Off,” he murmurs impatiently, plucking at your bra before his hand departs your chest. You struggle to sit up and he allows it, watching you pull your blouse free from your skirt and unfastening the cuffs before sliding it off your arms. With a swift gesture borne of long practice you easily pinch and release the hook and eye closures resting along the center of your spine, the cups immediately folding down over the underwire, the straps drooping over your shoulders.
The doppelgänger assists you now, sliding the brassiere off the rest of the way, exposing your chest to him. Your cheeks are pink, flushed like the nipples he’s toying with again, his head bending to suckle at one and a lick of flame sears your core. This is part of the invasive species’ learning process, you think. Taste as important as touch. His mouth moving not with the sole purpose of your pleasure in mind, but as a means to explore flavors and textures. Cataloguing. More of humanity’s secrets unveiled.
There is a song you don’t recognize playing next door now. Muffled voices. You’d had no idea the walls were so thin. Francis had never complained.
You’re shoved back down onto the pillow. His mouth wanders, back up to sample a collar bone, the hollow at the base of your throat, then dips in between your breasts and tastes the skin of your abdomen. You wonder if he can detect the floral soap you’d bathed with that morning, the traces of lotion you’d applied during your hygiene routine.
“I like this,” he says, his breath warm on your body. “You’re so soft. Smooth. Not like…I’ve never taken…” It had often been debated if there were sexes in their species. How they propagated. There was still so much unknown. Was there a reason he’d only chosen men to replicate? Was it simply because he was male himself? You could not explain how you knew it, but there was something distinctly masculine about him. Authoritative. Blunter than a woman would be. A lifetime of being raised to respect decorum had been firmly ingrained in you. Society valuing a woman who knows her place. Taught to be demure, deferring to the wisdom and guidance of their male counterparts. Serving and obeying, like you’re doing now.
The imposter returns his attention to your face. Licking your mouth back open. He likes this, you think. All of what you’d shared thus far, but perhaps the kissing best of all.
The background melody silences and you think you detect the front door opening and closing. You wonder if the couple will be going out to an early dinner. Curious when they find there is no one guarding the building. But not alarmed. Not yet.
Your skirt is being lifted, polyester dragged upward after the copycat’s hasty reach downward to gather the hem. Immediately sliding back down, stroking over your exposed thighs that are clad in nylons that stop midway across each of your upper legs. Nothing fancy, just utilitarian features in a shade of nude slightly more tanned than your own complexion. He nudges against the seal you’ve created by pressing your legs close together. “Let me in, sweet girl.” An echo of what he’d said earlier in an attempt to gain access to the building, now seeking entry into you. You feel your limbs parting for him nearly as promptly as you’d opened the door.
The pretender works his way back up to the fork of your body, teasing along the crotch of the white panties. You gasp and he smiles against your lips. His palm drags over the fabric until his fingers find the elastic waistband and he dips beneath it, running overly the neatly trimmed hair on your pubic mound, following the curve of that padded flesh until your sex is palpated.
Another gasp and a moan escapes you. “So wet,” he remarks, fondling the pink lips, parting the petals with his middle finger to slide through the slick arousal your body is creating, working the lubricant up and down, passing over the hooded nub and then delving back towards your entrance, where more fluid escapes.
It feels good and yet it doesn’t, his fingers too rough and just shy of where you need him. You squirm and wince at the harsh handling of your clitoris and he pauses, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Show me. Show me how you like to be touched.”
You reach down cautiously, guiding his fingers to one side of your sensitive bud, lightly pressing and rolling a fingertip so that your clit is ground slightly against the bone beneath. Alternating now, reaching back down to gather more of your slick before spreading it over that hooded button, a few direct strokes applied before beginning the process again. He replicates your actions and your body responds immediately, a hum of pleasure heating you. You close your eyes and you think of the milkman, the real one, with his kind smile and his tired eyes.
“Francis.” The name escapes your lips and you freeze, the rocking motion of your hips against the imposter’s hand abruptly ceasing. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Alarmed by how easily you’d allowed yourself to give in to the desire, accommodating this make believe passion.
“It’s alright, love. It’s me. I’m here.” His tongue laps at your ear, at the sensitive patch of skin behind it. You shiver and resume grinding against his fingers, letting yourself be deluded once more, your hand curling over his forearm.
“Francis,” you say again, hoping he can forgive you, in whatever form he now occupies, if he is saved as his faith professes he would be, finding redemption and peace, somewhere far from your sinning body that writhes in pleasure from his murderer’s touch.
You push against his hand and he allows it, applying force against the hollow cavity that leads to your womb. “Let me in,” he breathes, and you feel a finger invading your body, shoving through the narrow confines of that muscular tunnel. Withdrawing and spearing again, the digit saturated with your arousal. You moan and lift your pelvis to meet him. Curling inside, massaging that dip of spongy tissue. Crooking each time he enters as if he is leading you forward, beckoning, his thumb drawing circles over your clit. You feel as if you’re on the edge of a chasm, teetering on the rim, about to drop forward into heat and darkness. Keening now. Thighs tremoring violently. Your face turns and your teeth sink into the pillow. “There you go, love. Give it to me. Give in to me.”
The coiling pressure within you snaps and you find release at last, the fabric clenched in your teeth doing little to muffle the sound of your orgasm. You’re drenched in sweat, the aftershocks of your appeased nerves still sizzling through you. The doppelgänger cradles you through all of it, holding you as you ride the waves that exhaust your limbs, making you feel boneless and limp.
“Francis.” It’s a yearning plea, a futile prayer, answered by the thing that is not him, but masquerades as such, crooning to you, whispering false promises, draping you in synthetic affection, a lie you want so desperately to believe.
#thats not my neighbor#francis mosses#milkman#francis mosses x you#francis mosses x reader#milkman x you#milkman x reader#doppelgänger
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hammock.
Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader
Word Count: 866 words
Warnings: Kissing, slightly suggestive
“You’re blushing.”
“I am?” Sanji gazes up at you, dreamy and distracted. “I didn’t realize.”
You hum. You’re only vaguely aware of the hammock’s sway, of the blanket slipping down your shoulders as you prop yourself up and place your hands on his cheeks. Warmth soaks into your palms like sunlight, and you tilt your head, thumbs drawing over the flush on his cheekbones and tapping gently.
“Don’t say this is because of me,” you tease.
His hands reach up to cover yours. “Then I’d be lying,” he replies, turning his head to kiss your fingertips, “and I would never lie about how you make me feel.”
“Not even if you hated me?”
“The day I hate you is the day I should be tied to an anchor and fed to the sharks.”
“That’s awful.”
“I know.” His eyes search your face, and they narrow as he murmurs, “Who could ever hate someone as gorgeous as you?”
(Whoever coined the phrase “flattery will get you nowhere” has never met Sanji, you’re sure of it.)
Leaning down, you press your lips to his nose, to his forehead, to each cheek. A contented sigh brushes past your ears as you do so.
Eventually, you make your way to the source of his sweet words. You pause, and Sanji opens his eyes as you hover above his lips, just shy of meeting them with your own.
“Something wrong, sweetheart?”
“No,” you say. “Just wanted to see your pretty eyes before I kiss you senseless.”
He stills. Then he laughs, the sound blooming from deep within his chest and staining your world with gold. “Well – aren’t you a charmer,” Sanji quips, stroking your waist and pecking your cheek. His words are softer than usual. “Careful with my heart, now.”
“Don’t worry,” you say, and you kiss him fully, drinking in the way his grip on you tightens and the way his breath stalls in his throat when you speak against his mouth. “It’s in good hands, I think.”
The kiss is just as warm as his cheeks. You feel drunk as you pull away, and Sanji lifts his head to chase your lips, whispering your name with the reverence of a believer.
“You guys mind doing that somewhere other than here?”
The two of you freeze in each other’s embrace.
You jolt out of it and push yourself up, accidentally knocking the breath out of Sanji in the process. He wheezes and curls up as you lock eyes with a very unimpressed swordsman.
“Z-Zoro! We”—you scramble to unrumple your shirt, which had ridden up underneath the blanket—“I’m sorry, we – we thought everyone was going to be in the lounge for a while.”
“You thought wrong.” Zoro strides past and drops his laundry on the couch. “This isn’t your personal bedroom, Sanji.”
“I’m aware of that,” Sanji replies, annoyance dripping from every syllable. “Now would you mind just stepping out for a few more minutes?”
“Sanji, it’s fine,” you whisper, patting his chest. “The mood is kinda killed now, anyway.”
He visibly droops. “I know.”
“Good.”
“I wasn’t asking for your opinion, mosshead.”
The room fills with a completely different kind of tension as Zoro crosses his arms at Sanji’s response.
You, still trying to cover up your embarrassment, move to block Sanji’s view, pushing his bangs away from his face and attempting to smooth out his frown lines. His cheeks are still flushed, though the color is quickly fading back to normal as his attention turns back to you.
“C’mon, Zoro wants to fold his laundry. Let’s go up to the lounge and see what the others are up to.”
“Is that what you really want to do?”
“Yeah.” (It is now, anyway.)
“… All right, then,” Sanji acquiesces.
With that, you push the blanket off and clamber out of the hammock, nearly tripping and falling flat on your face in your haste to do so. Sanji follows close behind, and once he’s on his feet, you turn to Zoro and give him another quick apology before you and Sanji leave the men’s room.
“Of all the times to be interrupted,” your companion mutters as the two of you head to the lounge. He takes your hand in his and interlaces your fingers. “I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s nobody’s fault. Ships don’t have a lot of privacy …” You think back to the moment Zoro spoke up and groan, burying your face in your free hand. “I’m just embarrassed he caught us like that. I didn’t even hear him come down.”
“Me neither.” Sanji lets out an irritated sigh and then looks over at you; his displeasure softens. “At the very least, I’ll take it to mean you were enjoying yourself.”
Your face heats up. “Of course,” you say quickly. “I like our alone time."
“I like it too.” He squeezes your hand and leans over to whisper into your ear. “Next time, I could be on top, so I can hide you away if anyone walks in unannounced.”
“Wh – Sanji! Don’t say it like that!”
The man grins as you smack his arm playfully, planting a kiss to your temple as penance.
“Just evening the score, sweetheart.”
#one piece#opla#sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji#sanji#opla sanji#one piece live action#opla fanfiction#one piece fanfiction#reader insert#fluff#slightly suggestive bc of the comment sanji makes at the end haha#sorry for the delay in requests i was in an accident yesterday and life things are happening so !!#i am posting this which has been in my drafts for a little bit
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ANGEL ON MY SHOULDER.
✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader (hinted) | 5k words
✧ SUMMARY: ghost!reader, major character death, jjk manga spoilers, so much angst bc you literally die lmao, longing, mutual pining, suppressed feelings, everyone sucks at love, some fluff, banter, might be slightly suggestive, lots of hinted feelings (read: suguru), arguments, overall this is painful so read if you enjoy angst !!
✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: this idea randomly came to me before i went to bed a few days ago and in the spirit of halloween, i figured why not? i live off of angst and need to share the pain with everyone lmao oops. this is late for halloween tho my bad !!
i. 2007
satoru brings one more flower than he did the day before. morning glories again, of course, but an extra one. he had added one more to the the bunch every day since the day you died. the first day, he brought three, wrapped with a cheap blue ribbon that he found in his desk drawer. it was hardly a respectable bouquet, but those three flowers were the ones he'd grown for you, so it only seemed fitting.
he didn't care much for gardening. but one day you asked shoko what her favorite flowers were so you could give her some on valentine's day. she asked you what yours were so she could return the favor.
satoru never forgot morning glories after that day.
he's not even sure if morning glories are appropriate to bring to a grave, but he knows you'd like them.
you would tell him it didn't matter anyway.
ii. 2007
(suguru did not cry when you died. satoru watched, intently, because there was nothing in the universe that his six eyes couldn't catch. he waited for it, even a sliver of emotion that would betray suguru's bleeding heart, but he gave nothing. he just stood in front of the stone that marked the end of your life with a deep stare. something had settled there in his eyes, cold and resolute.
a few months before you died, you had told satoru that there was something wrong with suguru. you said that he'd been distant, somewhere far away, and you worried for him. you always did, so open with your affection for him.
"don't want him to get lost." you had hummed, your shoulder brushing against satoru's as you raise the mango ice pop he brought you to your mouth. satoru watches your lips out of the corner of his eyes, his stomach flipping eagerly even as he keeps his face impassive.
"he said it was just the summer heat," he answers, ignoring the sweet mango juice dripping down his knuckles. "should be nothing."
you don't look all that convinced, turning your head to look up at him with meaningful glance. "you sure?"
he stares at you for a lengthy second, cerulean eyes darting over your facial features, before he reaches up and knocks his knuckle against your forehead. "yeah. he'll be fine." he assures, and your shoulders relax as you continue to eat the ice pop.
you were right about it all. four days after you die, suguru massacres an entire village.)
iii. 2008
satoru shifts in his bed, grunting quietly he begins to stretch his stiff joints. his eyes crack open, still heavy with sleep as he waits for his dark ceiling to come into focus. except it doesn't, because all he can see are a pair of very familiar looking eyes. unsaturated, but still so obviously the color he once knew. his own eyes snap open, all traces of sleep gone as he finally makes out someone who looks exactly like you, perched on his stomach with a confused and slightly panicked expression.
he shoots up, and you pull back a little. it looks like you're on his lap, and yet he can't feel you on him at all. he gulps.
"hey toru." you say quietly, and his stomach drops. the same eyes, the same voice. gods above.
"you're dead," he says simply, trying not to betray the way his pulse is jumping at even the smallest glimpse of you again. "you're not real."
"i'm dead," you confirm, nodding your head as you look down at your translucent palms. "but i'm here somehow."
he sucks in a breath, reaching out a hand as if to touch you. the disappointment he feels when it passes through your form is sickening.
you smile shakily, shrugging your shoulders as you attempt to make light of the situation.
"guess i couldn't stay away."
he stares at you for minutes without saying a word and you stare back, equally silent.
iv. 2007
(nanami had carried your body back, his teeth gritted as his blonde hair fell over his eyes. satoru never brought it up, but he knew that nanami remained bothered by it for the rest of his life. your death was bad timing, especially after they had just lost haibara a few weeks prior.
nanami had no reason to blame himself though. if anything, it was satoru's fault you were gone.
shoko had called him from the infirmary, her voice hard and pinched as she spat out three words: "get down here."
when satoru saw your body, he didn't say a word. just took a few long strides until he was at the table where nanami had placed you down. your eyes were shut, face resting in a way that seemed so unnatural. he opened his mouth to ask shoko something, but felt like he was choking on air, so he stopped himself.
then he grabbed your limp fingers, squeezed them gently. they were still a little warm, but not as warm as you usually run. shoko didn't say anything, just stood there with her hands clenched, short brown hair falling over her dark eyes.
satoru remained there for the next thirty minutes, waiting for you to sit up and laugh at the prank you were no doubt pulling. as if your blood wasn't still dripping all over the table.
shoko was the one who finally pulled a sheet over your body with shaking hands. she didn't look satoru in the eye, and didn't spare a glance when suguru burst into the room ten minutes later.)
v. 2008
it takes satoru a while to get used to the fact that you're not physically there. he has to bite his tongue when he moves to bump your shoulder or flick your forehead only to find that his skin goes right through yours. you always give him that same little rueful smile, and he sighs to himself.
he doesn't make an effort to figure out why you're there. he figures it's similar to how jujutsu users can come back as curses due to strong feelings. when he thinks about it though, guilt lodges itself into his throat, because the first thought he had when he heard you were entering death's door was no, don't you dare die.
every day he wonders if he's the one who cursed you to stay.
you act like it doesn't matter, hovering around him as he busies himself in his empty room. at first you're quiet, as though you've forgotten how to speak to him in your incorporeal form. but then you start asking him questions, and it's one question that satoru dreads to answer that you finally bring up.
"where's suguru?"
he's not stupid. he knows there's more you think of suguru than you've ever revealed. of course you'd want to know. but that doesn't mean he wants to be the one to tell you. you had died with nothing but a good impression of geto suguru. you'd probably died with your feelings for him still intact too.
it'd be selfish of satoru to ruin that.
"nothing, don't worry about it," he dismisses, voice clipped as he busies himself with preparing dinner. he knows that won't deter you.
you huff, moving to hover in his line of sight. you cross your arms as you glare at him seriously, and satoru hates how nostalgic your expression makes him feel. he tongues his cheek before sighing.
"he's gone." satoru answers simply. he tries to keep his tone even but it comes out bitter and strained. he can hear your quiet gasp, and feels your form move closer to him. if you were alive, he'd be able to feel your breath on his skin now.
"what do you mean, gone?"
satoru sighs again, turning to look at you completely. he hated everything about this. "he left school. went crazy. killed a bunch of people, including his parents."
he would've laughed at the comical way your jaw dropped if you didn't look so hurt. you sputter over your words as he picks up his bowl and moves to the table, trailing after him and demanding more information.
he doesn't hesitate to share, because he's always hated keeping secrets from you. you had this uncanny ability to see straight through him, and it never failed to make him feel unsettled. so he tells you everything that happened in the few weeks after you died. suguru leaving, their confrontation in shinjuku, his plans for non-sorcerers. he leaves nothing unsaid.
when he's done, he finally looks at you, trying to gauge your reaction. but you're just staring at his food with a bitter expression, brows pinched and lips pursed. satoru says your name once.
you glance at him, and it's too quick for him to look for any accusation in it. doesn't matter though, because he's ready to own up to his mistakes.
"you were right back then. about suguru." satoru admits quietly, turning to his food. he doesn't want to look at you anymore, because he's scared you'll show him how disappointed you are with him.
you don't say anything in response. but you sit down at the small dining table and watch him eat with soft eyes, one bite at a time. satoru doesn't admit it, but the whole time he imagines that you're gently rubbing his shoulder, and he thinks he hasn't missed you more than in that moment.
vi. 2007
(it was satoru's fault you died. if he hadn't been so selfish, you'd still be next to him, shoulder brushing his as the two of you walked through the streets of tokyo.
you had knocked on his door that morning before you had left for your last mission, rocking on your heels. he opened it groggily, still half asleep.
"you going on a mission?" satoru had yawned, drowsy eyes trailing over your uniform. you nod with a grin.
"mhm, with nanami. there are two separate areas with curses though, so we'll split up when we get there. should be simple enough." you shrug, toying with the collar of your uniform jacket.
satoru decides to be annoying. "then why are you here disturbing my sleep? get out." he groans dramatically, peering at you with narrowed eyes. you smack his arm, scoffing. you've stopped questioning why he keeps his infinity down for you do those things to him.
"i was gonna ask if you wanted to come with," you hiss, crossing your arms defensively. "but i'm taking it back, asshole."
he grins. "what? can't stay away?"
you roll your eyes, shaking your head with a sarcastic laugh. "don't flatter yourself."
satoru pauses for a second. "i was gonna go back to sleep." he admits, feeling a little guilty. he had just come back from a mission the night before, and he doesn't feel like leaving again. he doesn't know how to say that to you though.
but you see right through him, like you always do.
"you've been going on missions a lot lately," you smile earnestly, patting his shoulder. "no wonder you're tired."
"'m the strongest, i don't get tired." he protests, crossing his arms with a scoff. you roll your eyes again, sticking your tongue out at him as you heft your weapon over your shoulder.
"keep it up and you're seriously gonna fry your brain or something," you say with a shake of your head, eyes betraying your concern for him. he notices it, and tries to smother down the way it makes his stomach flip. "i'll be fine. you can come on my next mission with me."
fair enough, he thinks. he hadn't gone on missions with you or suguru in a while. he should remember to ask yaga to let him go on your next one. just the two of you. you and him. maybe he'd buy you a mango ice pop on the way back.
"fine." he acquiesces easily, not even thinking to protest. he'll see you later anyway, so he'll talk to you more when you get back.
you smirk a little, motioning to his bedhead, before gently kicking his shin. "go back to sleep then, stupid."
he rolls his eyes, reaching up to knock his knuckle against your forehead like he always does. "whatever. bring me some sweets on your way back, yeah?"
the laugh you give him as he shuts the door is the last thing he ever hears from you.
he should've gone with you.)
vii. 2012
satoru hates the way you're looking at him right now.
it was a stupid little mistake. he had gone to see little megumi and tsumiki earlier that afternoon, and as usual, you had tagged along with him. you'd watched him raise up the two kids over the last few years, never failing to tease about his newly acquired fatherhood, or how much he seemed to care about them despite his efforts to hide it. he didn't ever think to say that you'd helped him raise them up too. even in your incorporeal form you'd always been around to tell him what meals he could prep or to remind him that megumi liked black forest cake for his birthdays.
he'd gotten so used to you being around and he slipped up once. that afternoon when he had walked megumi home from school, teasing and poking fun at the kid, he'd made a stupid joke. megumi had rolled his eyes and told him to shut up.
and then without thinking, satoru had turned to you as you hovered next to him and groaned your name out dramatically before whining, "this kid is so mean to me!"
your eyes widened immediately, and if you were alive he'd probably see the color drain from your face. his stomach had sank and he couldn't tear his eyes away from you, even when megumi glanced at him with a raised brow.
"who are you talking to?" he asked, and satoru gulped, shaking his head as he broke eye contact with you to look down at the kid.
"nobody." he had answered.
he tries to ignore the meaningful stare you pin him with for the rest of the afternoon, hoping that you'll just forget about it. but as soon as satoru has left the kids and he's back in his own room, you're on him. he busies himself with making a cup of hot chocolate, even though he feels sick to his stomach.
"satoru you have to figure out how to get rid of me!" you plead, eyes so sad it makes his stomach churn. "i'm gonna drive you insane!"
"i'm fine!" he snaps back, shaking his head as he takes a sip from his mug, the warmth distracting him from whatever it was you were trying to remind him of. he places it down on the table in front of him and crosses his arms defensively. "it was a stupid mistake. won't happen again."
you shimmer in and out of focus, manifesting in front of him with a glare, though your eyes are still the same. wounded and hurt. "it wasn't and you know it! you can't keep living like this. i've been haunting you for years, toru!"
"well who asked you to go ahead and die?!" he yells without thinking, and it's like he sees your hurt bubble forth in slow motion.
"i went and died because i made a stupid mistake on a mission! quit blaming yourself, you dumbass!" you shout, voice raised higher than he's ever heard it.
satoru's mug shatters against the wall.
the two of you immediately turn to look at the mess with wide eyes, before slowly turning to each other to ensure that it really did happen.
"how'd you do that?" satoru asks quietly, his voice strained as he takes a few long strides towards you. you look down at your hand, the same one that you had lifted to swipe at his mug during your fit of rage. you look back up at him with wide eyes and parted lips. satoru's head is pounding, some kind of sick hope stirring within him. "you had to have touched it."
"i don't…" you trail off, voice filled with awe and a bit of fear. satoru reaches up a hand, ignoring the tremble in it, and moves to touch your face. he will never admit to the amount of times he begs in his head, please please please.
his hand goes straight though your skin, and your eyes soften. satoru lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, hiding his disappointment as he takes a step back and turns away.
viii. 2006
(satoru thinks gardening is ridiculous. plants are so fragile, needing to be constantly monitored and cared for like children. he can't understand why anyone would choose to garden as a hobby when there were less stressful things to do in spare time.
even the process was time consuming, he realizes as he scoops out piles of dirt into the small pots he had set out on his windowsill.
he thinks back to the silly little grin you had on your face as you answered shoko's question.
"morning glory," you had said, leaning against her shoulder. "i like the way they open in the morning and close at night."
shoko hummed, staring at the sky even as satoru quietly eavesdropped. "you got a favorite color?"
"the blue ones," you answered. "they're the prettiest."
your voice echoes in his head as he places the seeds into the soil, and he sighs heavily. why he was doing this for you was beyond him.
the thought makes him annoyed, and he huffs in frustration the entire time he plants them. gardening had to be the stupidest hobby ever.
and yet when three blue morning glories bloom against his windowsill, he can't hold back his grin.)
ix. 2017
satoru's grateful that you don't watch him kill suguru.
he tells you to go, and you give suguru a long stare, face pinched and sour even though your translucent eyes are shining. it's a shame suguru can't see you though, because satoru thinks you look so pretty. suguru would've been lucky to have you be the last thing he ever saw.
you turn away and disappear without a word, and after one last exchange, satoru finishes the job.
it's only after he watches rika's final goodbye to yuta does he realize the extent of what a goodbye even means. he'd said one to suguru, and yet he can't help but miss him as he walks back home. he wonders if suguru wouldn't have had to die if you were still around.
satoru had never gotten a goodbye with you though. you're somehow still with him, but he misses you so much. it puts an ugly feeling in his gut, twisted and dark. it weighs down on his shoulders as he finally opens the door to his room, heavy and overwhelming as he sees you sitting on his bed, face vacant.
he says your name, and you don't move. he takes a seat next to you, and something about your sad expression makes him so unbelievably angry.
"quit being sad about it," he finally spits out, the truthful extent of his feelings coming out. "it's not like you're even alive that you'd be able to see him."
you scoff as you give him a sidelong glare. "what's that supposed to mean? one of my closest friends just died and you expect me not to be upset about it?"
"at least he'll find a way to you!" satoru hisses, clenching his fists so hard that his nails leave crescents in his skin. "you two can have fun together for all of eternity."
there's a tense silence that follows as he grits his teeth, turning away from you. he's so disgusted right now. with suguru, with you, with himself.
"i'm all by myself." satoru mutters bitterly, the words so foreign on his tongue as the truth hits him.
god he misses you so much.
he suddenly feels a sharp thwack on the back of his head and he's turning around with wide eyes.
"don't you dare forget about shoko!" you hiss, tears in your eyes as you glare at him, hand raised. "i'll never forgive you!"
his throat goes dry, because the smack you just gave him was the first time you'd touched him since the day you died. there's a storm in his throat that threatens to break free, but he tries to keep it lodged in his throat. even with your teary eyes, he thinks you look just as pretty as you did with life flowing through you.
he misses suguru. he knows you do too, because there are translucent tears dripping down your cheeks and he has never ached to touch you more. but he can't because you're dead.
you remain in front of him all night, barely saying a word in between your sniffles. he doesn't say anything either, just watching you.
he doesn't know what there is to say. the only thing he ever wishes he got to say to you was goodbye. but you're here, in front of him, so a goodbye seems pointless.
when the sun comes up, you wish him a merry christmas, and he swears you never left him.
satoru says it back to you. you smile sadly.
he misses you so much.
x. 2007
(satoru had cleaned out your dorm room three days after you died.
he didn't really understand why he was doing it so early. shoko had frowned when he told her that he planned to pack away your things, frowned in a way that made her look like she disagreed.
well even if she did disagree, it didn't stop her from sitting in your desk chair, chewing on her nail quietly as she watched satoru fold your clothes. he didn't even understand why he was doing this.
maybe it was because every time he walked past your empty dorm room he felt sick to his stomach. there was a twisting feeling in his gut when he realized that you'd never curl up in that bed again. never sit by the window with a grin watching him and suguru bicker as they threw playing cards on the floor. he figured the faster he got rid of your remnants, the quicker the feeling would go away.
that's what he's hoping anyway. but when he picks up your jujutsu uniform he feels something claw at his throat, and he unconsciously digs his fingers into the fabric. he hears a sigh from behind him and then shoko is at his side, wordlessly easing the cloth from his hand. she lays it on the bed, smoothing out the wrinkles before folding it carefully. when she places it into the box, satoru thinks her hands shake a bit.
there's a bitter expression on shoko's face that he's never seen before, and it makes his stomach twist.
they work on your room for the next few hours, until the sun has disappeared behind the horizon and the cool evening breeze bullies its way into your old space. neither of them say anything, save for the occasional nostalgic hum as they remember something that you did or they're reminded of the story behind one of the trinkets in your room. otherwise it's silent, and for a second satoru feels like he can hear your laugh.
it isn't until night has completely fallen that they are interrupted.
"what are you doing?"
satoru turns around just as shoko looks up, both of them finding suguru standing in the doorway. he hadn't taken a step in yet, eyes still trailing over the emptiness of your old room from behind an uncrossed line.
"cleaning." satoru answers, his voice oddly clipped.
"it wasn't messy…" suguru mutters back, his lips slanting in such an unusual way. there was an uncharacteristically determined look in his eyes, as though there was something in him that was struggling to burst forth. satoru didn't understand what it was.
"never said it was." satoru replies noncommittally. he hears shoko inhale deeply, shifting in your old chair as she watches the two of them stare at each other. there's a tense silence as he notices suguru frown.
satoru can't remember the last time he even had a full conversation with suguru. he remembers seeing you leave for your last mission, and he wants to kick himself for not asking earlier to be sent on group missions with the two of you.
even now, he doesn't really know what to say to suguru. all he can do is tighten his fingers around the edge of the box with your stuff neatly packed in, and watch his best friend sigh.
suguru wets his lips, eyes darting over your desk. there's an odd expression on his face, and his brows pinch as he notices something. then suguru reaches out to pick up an old polaroid, and satoru knows exactly which one it is. your arms slung around suguru's shoulders, smile so wide your cheeks probably hurt. suguru's expression was uncharacteristically gentle.
satoru remembers it so well, because he's the one who took the picture.
suguru looks at the polaroid without a word, rubbing the corner between his thumb and forefinger, and his expression suddenly mirrors the gentleness in the picture. his eyes remain stormy, deep and unsettling as he reaches conclusions that satoru will never understand.
the three of them stay quiet for a few minutes, even though satoru has so many questions that he can't figure out how to phrase. shoko toys with a cigarette between her lips, leaving it unlit because you've always hated the smell of smoke. suguru just stands there, silently eyeing your unfiltered smile through the lens of a camera.
satoru wonders if suguru's trying to say goodbye to you. he doesn't ask, and suguru doesn't say.
only after something had clicked in suguru's eyes, did satoru realize something was over. he couldn't help but feel like he had just buried you in that cardboard box with all your things, and he swallows hard.
then suguru clenches his fists, veins flexing as he looks around your room, almost like he was committing it to memory. satoru didn't understand why; it's not like suguru couldn't come see your room anytime he wanted.
then he turns away, hand lingering on the doorframe heavily, without another word.
just as suguru walks away, satoru thinks he hears your voice whispering in his ear.
"don't want him to get lost."
xi. 2018
something is wrong. something happened. something is wrong.
satoru knows he needs to wake up. but he's so tired, so exhausted from carrying on all by himself. he suddenly remembers the taste of frozen mango, sweet and chilled, and he wants to keep thinking about it for the rest of eternity.
but something is wong. he needs to wake up.
the minute satoru forces his eyes open, he can ignore the taste of blood in his mouth because you're there.
you're kneeling at his side, sunlight shining behind your head in a way that makes you look almost angelic. he'd believe it if you said you were an angel, because you've been dead for so long now.
you'd been a ghost for so many years, hovering around him and getting him through everything that had come his way. isn't that what guardian angels were supposed to do, guiding humans through their own trials? isn't that what you were doing to him since the day you died and came back to him?
you'd been a ghost. you'd been his angel. you'd been haunting him.
you'll always haunt him.
you seem to know it too, because the expression on your face is understanding, soft and yet so sad.
for what seems like the millionth time in his life, satoru aches to touch you.
he tries to move his hand but finds that he can't. synapses misfire. he can't feel his body anymore.
he wants to touch you. gods above, he wants to touch you so badly. please just this one last wish.
your translucent forms shimmers in the sunlight, and satoru can't tell if he's hallucinating or not because you suddenly seem to become fully physical. the particles of your form solidify, slowly filling with more color until you don't look quite so dilute. the saturation of your eye color comes back, and satoru can't look away because he's never seen a ghost so pretty before.
his breath hitches as you gently cup his cheek in your palm, warm and gentle. the melancholic look on your face makes his eyes sting.
"it's good to see you." he says with a weak smile, ignoring the metallic taste on his tongue. his breath is short, mind racing because your skin is on his again. finally, after so many years. you're so soft, just like he remembers.
"you weren't supposed to join me this quick." you sigh, eyes shining as you smile down at him ruefully. your thumb brushes over his bottom lip, and satoru's cerulean eyes flutter.
no. no more waiting. he'd missed you too much. he doesn't have it in him to stay away from you anymore. he'd done it long enough. your fingers tremble against his skin and he almost laughs.
no more haunting.
there's a resolute part of him that knows you'll be the first thing he sees when he gets to wake up again. he decides that, when he does, he'll get you a mango ice pop and plant some morning glories with you.
his eyes fall shut with a sigh.
"guess i couldn't stay away."
#[𐐪— rheya’s writings. 𐑂]#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x reader#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader#jjk angst#gojou satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen angst#gojo angst#jjk season 2#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#geto suguru x reader#geto x reader#gojo x reader x geto#satosugu x reader#geto suguru#geto angst#getou suguru x reader#geto x y/n#gojo x y/n#satoru x reader#satosugu x you#stsg x reader
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poltergeists for sidekicks | E.M.
summary: [2.3k] the kids drag eddie to the halloween store where you happen to work.
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
warnings: fluff, pining, eddie being a lovestruck idiot, r wears big prescription glasses and is described as having messy hair
a/n: happy halloween! here’s something i’ve been working on for ages just in time for the end of spooky szn! xoxo
masterlist
Eddie doesn’t hate Halloween.
He used to love Halloween. He likes autumn. He likes watching the leaves change colors. He can appreciate the novelty of a hot apple cider and a hay ride. Hell, ever since he was old enough to go trick or treating, he reveled in it. Free candy and all he had to do was put on a costume and say three magic words? Sign him up.
As he got older, he started to like Halloween for a slightly different reason. Don’t get him wrong, he still liked the free candy, but he liked the excuse to be someone else for a night. He liked how he could throw on a Michael Meyers mask and go door-to-door and be greeted with glee and sweets.
It does a funny thing to a kid’s self-esteem, being treated better when he’s wearing the face of a fictional serial killer.
Now, though, Eddie Munson is decidedly too old for trick or treating. He’s resigned himself to spending the holiday like it was any other day by spending the night in his room, playing guitar, and coming up with new campaign ideas.
Which is exactly what he was doing when three freshmen started pounding down the door of the trailer demanding entry. Within moments, they are practically on their hands and knees asking, nay begging, for the older boy to take them to get last-minute Halloween costumes.
“Aren’t you guys too old to go trick or treating?”
“This is why we need to go to the store! If we wear masks, no one will be able to tell how old we are, hence extending our years of candy collecting.” Dustin explains, matter of factly.
Eddie sighs, leaning back into the sofa, steepling his fingers together. “What’s in it for me?”
The three boys huddle together, conspiring in a manner that is not dissimilar to the way they plan their counterstrikes during Hellfire. They nod in sync, turning around so that Lucas is standing front and center, flanked by the two other boys.
“That one girl you like is working there.”
Eddie remains stone-faced, quipping sarcastically, “That’s very specific.”
Mike lets out an exasperated groan, threading his fingers through his hair before yanking at the ends in frustration. “Y’know, the weird one. Coke bottle glasses, messy hair, always holding a book?”
Lucas’ eyes widen. Dustin smacks Mike on the chest and the hollow sound rings out through the empty trailer. They all start talking over each other, with two of them berating the third for A. being insensitive and B. expecting a good outcome from said insensitivity.
Eddie wants to make a comment that your hair is not messy, it’s actually more voluminous. Besides, his hair is messy and he likes to think it makes him look badass. The glasses comment was a little unfair. Sure, the frames are a similar shade to the iconic green of the bottles of Coca-Cola. But the magnification was endearing, leaning more towards doe-eyed than bug. Unfortunately, Eddie did not consider that while he was observing you, someone might’ve been observing him.
The assurance of your presence is how Eddie ends up here, parked outside of a hardware store turned seasonal shop. He’s helping his friends. He’s supporting a local business and therefore contributing to the local economy! You being here is just a bonus.
A bell rings above them as he swings open the door, the motion setting off a scratchy pre-recorded cackle. He’s gotta hand it to whoever is running the store. They’ve gone out of their way to transform the dingy overhead fluorescents and worn-out linoleum into something that actually resembles an eerie boutique.
“Welcome in! I’ll be right witch you!” Your voice lilts out from the depths.
You appear out of the darkness, expertly weaving under fake cobwebs and pushing aside fanciful drapes that have no doubt been strung up precariously around the store to add to the ambiance. You’ve got a witch’s hat on, tall and black and pointy, which further explains the pun you greeted them with.
“How can I help you?” You smile brightly, adjusting your glasses.
The younger boys barely spare you a glance, just a chorus of we’re good! before running off to the other side of the store, where all of the costumes are located.
You barely blink at their rudeness. Whether that’s indicative of your experience in customer service or due to your generally sunny disposition, Eddie isn’t sure. You turn your smile and magnified gaze at him, “What about you?”
Eddie startles only slightly. He begins to peek over his shoulder as if there’s somebody else in the mostly deserted store that you could be talking to. What about him?
“Oh, I don’t need anything. I just came here with–” He gestures vaguely in the direction that the boys wandered off to. “The little shits that left me in the dust.”
You bark out a laugh, a small smile settling on your lips. “It’s sweet of you to help them out.”
Eddie only blushes in response, murmuring a quiet it’s nothing, scratching the back of his neck like he might find a switch that’ll make him remember how to talk like a normal human being.
“Well, if you change your mind, let me know.”
You pick up a clipboard and a pen and start leisurely strolling down the decor aisle, making inconsequential markings on the paper. Whenever you come across gaps in the shelves you reach back into them, pulling the products to the front edge with a concentration that is quite adorable.
He’s definitely staring by now. Feigning interest in a skull-shaped candy bowl, Eddie scrambles for something, anything to keep the conversation going. “I’m surprised you’re not busier.”
“You just missed the afternoon rush.” You say, straightening a pair of plastic tarantulas that have gone askew. “Not too many people came today, though. I guess they realized that it’s so close to the holiday that the shelves would be picked over.”
“Really?”
You shrug, “I think by October 30th, most people figure if they’re gonna dress up, they’d rather just pull together something from their closets than spend money. We’re actually busier the day after Halloween because everything gets marked down and people want cheap candy.”
“Makes sense.” He nods. “So, I take it you’re a big fan of Halloween?”
Your smile is apprehensive as if you’re not sure if he’s making fun of you. Your fingers brush the brim of the witch’s hat. “What gave me away?”
He falls into step beside you, clasping his hands behind his back and puffing out his chest. “I just had a feeling.” Then, feeling much braver than usual, he adds, “I like your outfit.”
You look at him again, clutching the clipboard to your chest. For once, your eyes are leaning more towards bug-eyed. The black velvet dress has draped sleeves and a skirt that swishes with every step. Orange and black striped tights protect your legs from the inevitable chill that comes with October in Indiana. “You do?”
“I do.” He insists, “It totally adds to the magical vibe. If you told me that you were an actual witch and this was just something you do to pass the time I’d one hundred percent believe you.”
All apprehension has slipped off your face, replaced by a genuine smile that cracks open his chest. “Thanks…” You trail off.
“Eddie.” He supplies.
“Well thank you, Eddie. I’d tell you my name but I’m guessing I don’t have to.” You say, rubbing the plastic name plate on your chest.
Eddie does know your name, but it isn’t because of your name tag. He was far too proud to ask around for your name, and far too afraid of rejection to ask you himself. He’d been lucky enough to get a library book right after you. He’d pulled the weathered paper from the slip, seen your name at the bottom of the checkout card, traced the loopy letters with the pad of his fingers. It had definitely been more than a little pathetic.
Eddie coughs, clearing his throat, trying to maintain any semblance of nonchalance. “Do you have any plans for Halloween?”
Your face slowly lifts from the clipboard, twirling your pen between swift fingers polished in a deep burgundy. Directing your gaze at him, you peer through dark lashes and Eddie’s never been more thankful for the inventor of coke bottle glasses. The magnification allows him to see the spark of intrigue dancing across your pupils.
“I was just gonna stay home. Maybe help my mom pass out candy.” The implication of the last sentence seems to hit you. You look down again, scrunching up your nose. Eddie finds it endearing how your first instinct is honesty rather than anything else.
“Cool. That’s cool,” Eddie says in a manner that is decidedly uncool. He fiddles with his rings before shoving his hands into his pockets. “Actually, I was wondering if—”
Suddenly, Eddie feels stupid for getting lost in your eyes and not paying attention to his surroundings. Maybe then he would’ve noticed how the linoleum got ever so slightly softer under the soles of worn-out boots. He would’ve seen the cloaked figure looming in the alcove, waiting for some unwitting soul to step on the pressure plate.
Unfortunately, Eddie did not see any of those things. The poltergeist, or ghost, or whatever the fuck it is swings out. He stumbles backward, releasing a shriek that is so high-pitched, that he wonders if he should start tapping into his upper range. Maybe it would add more texture to Corroded Coffin’s Tuesday night sets.
Instinctively, his arms fly backward, as if to protect you. He stumbles right into you, and he’s sure that if you didn’t grab his waist from behind, you would’ve fallen right over. Unfortunately, the movement has both of you careening back into a shelf, sending bags of overpriced candy and shitty Halloween decorations tumbling to the ground in a cascade of all things creepy and corny. He quickly spins around.
“Shit, are you–”
“I’m so sorry!”
“I should’ve warned you–”
At that moment, chests heaving and hearts racing, you both seem to realize that your hands are still grazing Eddie’s waist. You spring apart, scrambling to clean up the display, haphazardly grabbing the fallen items and placing them back in their rightful places on the shelves. Among them is your hat, another casualty of the calamity.
“I should’ve warned you,” You say again, slightly out of breath. “That thing nearly scares me to death every other day.”
“It’s fine. I should’ve paid attention to where I was walking. It just added to the whole spooktacular experience.” He picks up the hat from the floor, dusting it off. “I think this belongs to you.”
You give a bashful smile, but instead of putting the accessory in your outstretched hand, he gingerly places it on top of your head. Your glasses have slid down your nose from bending over to clean up his mess, and his thumbs gently push the joints of the frames until they’re sitting in their rightful place.
“There,” He punctuates his statement with a resolute tug on your hat, making sure it’s securely on your head. “Perfect.”
You preen at him, eyes sparkling, before you cast them down at the floor. Dustin comes running around the corner, closely followed by Mike and Lucas. All of them are carrying armfuls of miscellaneous Halloween supplies, obviously alarmed at the clamor, but not alarmed enough that they didn’t take their sweet time coming from the opposite end of the store. Eddie takes advantage of your bashfulness and distinctly shoots them a look that says get the hell out of here. Dustin’s eyes dart between the two of you before they widen and his mouth forms a small oh. He sends Eddie an exaggerated wink, walking backward in order to not interrupt the private moment, dragging his two friends along with him.
“Thanks,” You smile at him. “For protecting me. I know who to bring with me if I ever want to walk through a haunted house.”
He gives a lopsided grin, “My pleasure.”
“Ahem.” You clear your throat, “Anyways, what are your plans for Halloween?”
This is it. This is the moment that Eddie has been waiting for since he put down his guitar and his notebook and opened the trailer door.
“That depends.” He clasps his hands behind his back, jutting his chin up in the air. “Are you working tomorrow?”
“I get off at four.”
“The Hawk is doing this continuous horror movie marathon. Maybe you would want to go?” Eddie’s fingers are practically vibrating with excitement. He nearly forgets the most important part. “With me? I mean— Only if you like horror movies, I just figured because I’ve seen you walking around with that Stephen King novel. NOT that I’ve been watching you or anything!”
You let out a small giggle. The fact that you’re laughing and smiling is a good sign, even if it is slightly at his expense. He decides to lean into self-deprecation, hoping it’ll seem more charming than desperate.
“I’d say I don’t scare easily, but I think we’d both know that’s a lie by now.”
You scribble something near the bottom of the paper on the clipboard, delicately folding it and ripping it off before placing it in Eddie’s palm.
“Well, I’ve heard horror movies are less scary if you have someone to hold your hand.”
It doesn’t even matter that a ghost animatronic essentially acted as his wingman. The note with your number on it sits heavily in his pocket, thumb tracing over looped ink. Even though it’s cold as shit, he embarrassed himself, and signs of the spooky season decorate every corner, Eddie has a smile that rivals even the best of jack-o-lanterns.
As Eddie turns off towards the dirt path that leads to Forrest Hills Trailer Park, the smile still hasn’t faded.
For once, the streets of Hawkins seem a little less haunted.
likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs are cherished ♥️
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader#mimi wrote ✍️#poltergeists for sidekicks
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Sickly Deer - Sick Alastor X Female Reader
❥Summary - Alastor is a very proud man, and he will almost never admit that something is wrong. However, you noticed he seemed a bit off today and wanted to know what was wrong?
❥Tags: Sick alastor, sick day, alastor becomes sick, female reader, reader takes care of a sick alastor, stubborn alastor, fluff , adorable fluff, taking care of someone sick
❥Notes: Always wanted to do a sick character story and I finally get to do one with Alastor.
Was a quiet day in the hotel today. Usually there was the occasional chaos, but surprisingly it was peaceful. Charlie and Vaggie were out shopping for groceries for the hotel. Angel was lounging in his room, relaxing with Fat Nuggets. Niffty was reading a book, most likely manga in the lounge room, with Husk taking a cat nap on the couch next to her. Sir Pentious was in his ship, crafting some devices with his egg bois.
You were lounging in the hotel library, enjoying some quiet time to yourself while reading. Well it was quiet for a second until you heard the sound of static-like cough coming from next to you. Alastor happened to be in the library as well, reading his weekly newspaper. He's usually very quiet when he reads, except with the occasional sound of humming or static. But this was new, as you almost never heard him cough or let alone sneeze for that matter. The coughing started slow, but then it kept getting rougher as he kept doing it, causing you to worry. "Hey Al?" Your eyes were gazing at him with concern. Alastor turned his head towards you, wearing his signature smile: “Yes? What is it my dear?” “Well, are you alright? I noticed you have been coughing a lot. Once you said that, Alastor let out a boisterous laugh. “Oh-ho! It is nothing my dear. Just a small tickle. Nothing to concern yourself with!” He waved his hand in the air, after he finished talking. You still felt unsure, but if he said it wasn’t a big deal, you wouldn’t question him.
How wrong you were, the more and more you saw Al throughout the day, the worse his cough got. Not only that, his face was slightly paler and a bit drenched with sweat. He still was acting like everything was alright, but you knew he was lying. Enough was enough. You caught up with Alastor, as he was walking down the hallway. “Alastor! Stop!” You yelled his name out. He stopped in front of you, and slowly turned around, head tilted in confusion. “You’re sick, aren’t you” Alastors face stayed neutral when you said that, but you knew you got him. “I told you already, my dear. It’s nothing to concern yourself with.” Alastor just smiled wider and turned away from you to continue walking. He was stopped again when he felt a hand grab one of his coat sleeves. His body grew tense and he turned back eerily, not appreciating you touching him. You gave him a strong look: “Well, I AM concerned. And you should be resting cause you’re only going to make it worse.” His garnet colored eyes locked on to yours, static in the air getting louder. “I am the radio demon, my dear. I do not get sick, so please remove your hand, n̸͚͇̏̉o̸̼̓ẇ̷̹̓.” His eyes flashed into radio dials for a split second, causing you to remove your hand from his sleeve quickly. “Thank you. Now then, I shall take my leave.” He turned back around and began to walk away from you. As you were watching him walk away, you noticed he drew to a stop again. His body was still up, but then he began to fall forward. “AL!”
**Alastor POV**
“Ugh….huh?” Alastors eyes opened slowly. He recognized he was in his hotel room as the ceiling was covered in grassy moss and leaves, as he was the one to change it due to his magic. He soon realized he was laying on his bed, wearing his pajamas as he slowly got up from lying down. He doesn’t recall heading back to his room, as his head was still a bit fuzzy. His head was throbbing and his throat was feeling sore. Alastor knew he was feeling sickly, but he refused to believe it. He hates to be perceived as weak, so he preferred to play it off that he was fine.
The sound of the door opening alerted him, causing him to look up. He sees you walking into his room, carrying a tray along with a plastic bag hanging from your arms. “Oh your awake? How are you feeling?” You bear a smile at him, as you walk closer to his bed, setting the tray down on the night stand. “How did I end up here?” Alastor questioned you, still confused at what happened. “You don’t remember?” Your eyes gazed at him back with concern. Alastor shook his head. “You fainted Al. I stopped you in the hallway cause I knew you were sick, but you said you were fine and as you walked away, you stopped and fell forward.” Al’s eyes widen at your statement, as he kept listening to you talk. “I carried you back to your room after that.” You gave him a small smile.
“I see. I’m sorry for the trouble you had to go through my dear, but I’m quite alright now.” Pulling the covers off, Al swung his feet to place them in the floor. He was stopped by a hand on his chest. “Oh no you don’t mister. You are staying in bed and getting better. Understand?” Your eyes were filled with determination. “My dear, I am qui-” “Understand?” His words were cut off by you. He continued to look at your face, seeing that you were refusing to budge. Heaving a sigh, he nodded his head. He positioned himself back to how he was on the bed. “Does anyone else know about my ailment?" He said, as you turned his head to look at you. You were removing some stuff out of the plastic bag and set them on the night stand before turning back to him. "The only ones who know are me and Niffty. No one else, I promise you. I had to tell her you were under the weather, and she told me to head to the store to get you some medicine while she made you some venison stew." Alastor continued to listen until he asked you another question: "Did you change me into my pajamas as well?" Your face flushed at that, and you shook your head no. "Your shadow happened to appear when I brought you to the bed. I told it to change you." Alastor just nodded his head at that, smiling at bit wider at your adorable reaction.
Grabbing one of the chairs from Al's desk, you brought it over to where his bed was and took a seat. Reaching for the bowl, you placed it on your lap. He observed you blow a bit on the spoon and hold it out to him, causing him to raise an eyebrow at you. "Come on Al. There's nothing wrong with me feeding you." Alastor sighed, and opened his mouth, allowing you to give him some of the stew that Niffty prepared. He was able to finish it all off, which pleased you. Placing the bowl back, you grabbed the medicine and a glass of water and handed it to him. Alastor grabbed it and quickly popped them in his mouth, chugging the water to get them down. Sighing, he laid back on the bed, placing his head on the pillow, turning it away from you. "I despise this feeling." He whispered that to himself, but you were able to pick up on it since you were still seated next to him. "What feeling?" you said back to him, tiling your head. "Alastor continued to look away. "The feeling of being sick. Makes me appear weak." Alastor grumbled out the response.
Alastor remained quiet after that. A hand was placed against his cheek, allowing his head to turn back towards you. His eyes widen at you, as he saw you wearing a kind smile. "You're not weak Alastor. Everyone gets sick from time to time, nothing wrong with it. Also, you should know the others would never think about that, they would rather you get some rest and get better." Your thumb stroked his cheek. Alastor listened to what you said and gave a sigh, closing his eyes. "I know, my dear. Just.....feels strange." Moving his hand, he placed it against the one on his cheek. "Thank you, my dear. If there comes a time where you are ailing, I will return the favor." His lips curved into a soft smile. He heard you chuckle, as your hand moved away from his cheek. "Get some rest, Al. I'll come back to check on you." Smiling, you got up from the chair, and grabbed the tray, heading over to the door. Alastor just watched you walk away, leaving his room, and closing the door. His eyes began to grow heavy, as his body started to relax, drifting into a deep sleep.
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Crybaby — f. toji (pt. 1)
ˋ°•*⁀➷ Synopsis: When you realize your husband might still be hung up on his ex-wife.
・❥・requests
・❥・characters: fushiguro toji.
warnings: mdni, 18+, kind of angsty, smut, degrotary terms (slut, bitch), saying the wrong name (whoopsy), drunk sex, very very very slight anal penetration, you are megumi's step mom, age gap, Toji's ex-wife's name is Rei, half-assed proofreading.
・❥・wc: 2.1k
・❥・masterlist
・❥・crybaby masterlist
Your ears rang with the sounds of laughter, chatter, and the bustling of the crowd. Your arm circled your husband's as you walked through the festival.
The event was coming to an end, which called for everyone to gather for the fireworks. You excitedly made your way to the benches with Toji in tow.
You were surprisingly quick, even with your kimono weighing you down. You were not one to dress up for festivals but you had just wanted to look and feel pretty for your husband today.
You were having the best day. Your mouth was still burning from the spicy yakisoba you had slurped up earlier, so you were delighted when Toji handed you a plate of dango for the two of you to enjoy.
Settling yourself down on one of the stair benches, Toji takes the now empty plate away and sets it down beside him.
You hug his arm close, leaning and nuzzling into him. A hummed slightly, feeling content with the evening.
It wasn't long before the first firework exploded into life. The sparks fly as if they defy gravity with the subtle deafening ringing they bring.
The colors of each firework erupt into intricate shapes, sweeping the crowd in their wonder.
You couldn't look away at the beginning, not risking to miss the sight. But after a while had the urge to make a comment on the fireworks.
You turn to look at Toji, only, his sight isn't parallel to yours. His thin lips held a smile as his eyes were trained on someone else.
A woman sitting way ahead at the front. She was cheering with her friends, the radiant light displayed on her skin. The muscles of your cheeks twitch, not being able to stop the frown from embedding itself.
You felt the uneasiness bubble in your stomach when your eyes ghosted over her features.
Your chest felt heavy, not really knowing why. Sure, he was looking at another woman, doesn't mean he likes her, right?
He is just admiring something else, there's nothing wrong with that. You do so too, it isn't really a big deal.
No need to make it a big deal.
Goosebumps spread across your body, feeling very uncomfortable all of a sudden.
The fireworks show was over, yet, his eyes hadn't left her, and yours hadn't left him.
You softly shake his arm making him look at you, and seeing your glum face made him concerned, not that he showed it.
"You okay?" He asked plainly.
"My stomach's upset, I don't think the dango was prepared well."
"Oh? I feel fine though. Sure it wasn't something you ate before the festival?" He asks, taking his arm out of your hold and touching your back.
"Could be. Can we leave? I think I just need to sleep it off."
"Sure, let's go." He stands up, taking your hand in his as the two of you start walking away.
You take one last look at the woman he was staring at, making sure your eyes weren't deceiving you.
And your heartbeat only faltered noticing her uncanny resemblance to Toji's ex-wife.
Toji sat on the couch enjoying the music playing on TV as you took a bath. It had become a custom.
Despite the fact you took longer to clean yourself up, you would always shower before him.
It used to be the other way around when you first moved in together, but while Toji would be in the bath you would end up falling asleep, Toji not having it in his heart to wake you.
So he insisted that you shower before him while he could catch up on other things.
Like right now, getting daily updates from Megumi.
"Where's mom? I want to say good night to her as well." Megumi's voice comes through from the phone.
"She's in the shower. How was college today?"
"Good. Tired though."
"Then sleep ya lil' shit."
"Not before I talk to Ma."
Toji grumbles.
"She just went, it might be a while."
"I'll wait."
You on the other hand were scrubbing every part of your body with a subtle harshness. The stinging cold water rained on you, the coolness calming the overwhelming thoughts of your brain.
This wasn't something that bothered you usually.
You loved your relationship with Toji, and you loved him. You loved Megumi as if he were your own blood.
Yet there was always something off, something uneasy that always radiated off of Toji.
And you knew why.
You always enjoyed the stories Toji would share about his past, Rei, and baby Megumi. Listening happily to him describing the husband and father he was before you came in.
You loved listening about Toji's last wife because you liked the small twinkle in his eyes, and how a smile would form on the usually stoic Megumi's face.
You understood and accepted the love he had for her. And you knew if she hadn't succumbed to her illness, the three of them would be a happy family.
And you wouldn't be here.
You had an unspeakable amount of respect for the late Rei, but just sometimes you wished it wasn't like this.
Because you would catch Toji trying to remind himself that she's not here anymore, and it's the most heartbreaking thing.
It was the first time the 12-year-old Megumi accidentally called you 'Mom' and you remembered catching Toji's crestfallen face from your peripheral vision.
It had only been 2 years into this relationship, so you were caught off guard when Megumi did so.
You were really happy, but catching the look on Toji's face made your head fill with doubt.
4 years after your relationship, Toji finally got on one knee. So why did he hesitate before slipping the ring on your finger?
You still remember your third date with this man. It was a month after you both met and had invited him home for dinner.
He had declined but later changed his mind. Despite his dislike for alcohol, you both shared a few cups of wine.
Wine lead to dinner...dinner lead to more wine...and wine lead to talks. During your conversation, he had let it slip that his ex-wife had died 3 years ago today.
And before you knew it, he was moaning her name as he fucked you.
Your face was pressed into the pillow, letting out guttural moans at Toji's thrusts. You could feel the veins of cock against your walls, and your eyes rolled back, never having experienced something like this before.
"Ngh~ Yes! Please don't stop!"
"F-fuck you like this bitch?"
He gives you a harsh spank, making you stick out your ass more and push against him. He suddenly halts, and his strong hold on you means you stopped too.
You manage to crane your neck and look back at him, taking note of his dazed look.
His face was pink and he looked completely out of it, and you couldn't tell if he was drunk on wine or your pussy.
His fingers brushed against your virgin entrance. Your breath hitched when he put pressure against the muscle.
"Relax. Had anything here before?" He asks, bringing his hand to his mouth and spitting on it.
"N-no..."
"Thought so." His wet fingers smoothed over your hole, simultaneously slipping his cock out, making you whine.
He crouches down, bringing his lips to where his fingers were, giving you a slow lick.
You flinch at the foreign touch.
"Toji~" Your voice sounded like you were crying.
"Shhh, won't do much, baby. Just enjoy this." His tongue finally pressed against you, your hole flexing against him.
His tongue pushed in slowly making you move away from him from embarrassment.
"I can't Toji... 's too much!" You cried against the pillow.
His hands engulf your body, holding you close.
"Shhhhh...it's okay. She liked it too, so you'll learn for me, okay?" He slurs.
There was a flicker of discomfort from his words, but before you could question it, his cock was in you.
His thrusts were faster than before, hands working your chest as they painfully pinch your nipples.
"Hngg! R-right there! There! Toji!~"
"Such a fucking slut. Taking a cock that's too big for her. You're squeezing me out of you, nasty bitch."
"Fuuckkk~ Please! Please! I'm s-so close- Ahh!"
Never had you had anything so deep within you before, your body absorbing every bit of pleasure that this man could give you.
"Yeah? Gon' cum f'me? Fuck cum baby. Wanna feel your pussy cum on me."
Toji's hand leaves your chest and finds your chin. He cups your face and brings you close to him, lips on your cheek as he grunts in your ear.
Your vision goes blank and you can hardly process Toji's moaning.
"You're so good Rei. So fuckin' proud of my wife. Clenching me so good. Gonna give you another baby, yea? Want my cum Rei?"
And you stupidly nod during your high, blatantly ignoring his calls for his ex-wife.
"Want your cum! Please Toji!"
You gasp out desperately. His hands find your hair, and he is once again pressing your face into the mattress.
Your body is shivering as you leave the shower, hand desperately wiping your face to soothe your red face.
Chewing on your lip, you sat on the bed contemplating your decisions up until now.
Did you make a mistake?
You did, didn't you?
You remember that night, just how pathetic you felt when you came to your senses.
There had been a slight ringing in your ear after the session. You would joke in your mind that it was a siren, warning you of this budding 'relationship'.
Toji had made you feel a satisfaction like no other, yet it had left you feeling a sense of malaise.
Neither of you addressed it the morning after. You wanted to say something but were unsure if he had retained any memory from the night before.
So you let it go, just giving an excuse like 'he was grieving' or 'we're not even official, it's fine' and 'we were both too drunk'.
And something like that never happened again, but you still can't help but think if every time you both get intimate, is it really just you on his mind?
Toji is caught off guard when he enters the room, the concern now evident on his face.
You had been behaving distant since the end of the festival, but seeing you spaced out, sitting at the edge of the bed with only a towel around you as your nails worked to peel off the chapped skin of your lips, something was very wrong here.
"You chill, babe?" Toji asks, Megumi still on video call.
You don't even flinch when you hear his voice. You just simply stop picking at your lips, look up, and smile sweetly at your husband.
"Mhm...just worrying about Megumi." You lie.
"Well, he's on call, waiting for you."
"Oh! Gimme!" You stand up quickly, pretending as if there's nothing wrong as you snatch his phone.
Seeing Megumi's.....your son's.....face lifted your heavy heart. You walk to the right side of the bed and settle yourself on the floor, back supported by the bed.
You look back once more, smiling at Toji.
"You should take a shower. And be quick, or I might just fall asleep before you." You grin before turning your attention to your...son.
Thinking of Megumi as your son had started to feel uneasy, especially in front of Toji.
"Hi, baby! How are the dorms? Have you been attending all your lectures? You shouldn't miss any." You start.
"Yes Ma, I have. They are interesting but the teachers are old and boring." You let out a giggle at his response. As you speak, you hear the showers turn on.
"You know, you can skip a few lectures here and there, just don't let it affect your credits. I won't tell your father."
"I heard that!" Toji's voice is muffled yet his words are clear, clear enough to reach Megumi.
You and Megumi let out a chuckle at this.
"Yeah yeah." Megumi lets out a yawn and you 'aw' at the sight.
"Go to sleep, honey. It's late." You say, secretly hoping to end the call early.
"Mhm, I'll talk tomorrow, Ma."
"Sure. Night baby. Muahh!" You lean forward to give an audible peck on the camera.
"Good night." Megumi smiles subtly at your actions before hanging up the call.
BEEP BEEP BEEP
You stand up from your seat on the floor, placing Toji's phone on the nightstand.
Walking towards the bathroom, you drop the towel on the floor and open the door.
From the looks of it, Toji had just finished cleaning his hair. So, without wasting time you crept up behind him.
Your hands find his back, slowly smoothing them over to the front. Toji had seen you enter so he wasn't surprised by your touch.
Your right hand that settled on his chest was now trailing lower and lower. Toji watched your hand intently, his eyebrows furrowing.
Just before your hand touched him, he had intercepted your trail by clutching your wrist in his hand.
He turned around, your wrist in his hold as he looked at you with a confused glare.
"Why are your hands shaking?"
#fushiguro toji#toji x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro#jjk toji#toji x you#toji x reader angst#toji angst#toji and megumi#jjk#jjk fanfic#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#jjk imagine#jujutsu kaisen x reader#x reader smut#toji smut#fushiguro#fem reader
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And so, the stars aligned. Pt. 2
Azriel x Archeron!Sister reader
Summary: Azriel knew you can't read. And he knows you would never admit it. So he tricks you into taking reading lessons.
Warnings: Slight mentions of nightmares.
part one part three, Part Four
Masterlist
Requests are open!!
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You had come into your room to grab something. And had lost every train of thought as you saw the note neatly placed on top of the book you carted around for show- not quite sloppy hand writing but it was clearly male and in a rush. A...stick figure drawing of you? Clearly Feyre had not drawn this. But there is an attention to detail, your hair is colored correctly, and your eyes also the right shade- or as close as you could get in crayon. Truthfully, it could have been anyone female but since it was in your room, it was safe to assume. And then a book- the library? Is that where this mystery would be solved. You were far too curious now to just not go.
And so, you folded the note up and put in into one of your pockets. Heading down there quickly. The only sound as you enter is the clicking of your shoes. Looking around you, and making your way over to Clotho's desk. The priest doesn’t look up at you but quickly writes, 'Ah, y/n to what do we owe the pleasure?'
You smile and pull out the note to show it to her. "It seems- I was summoned." Clotho's amusement oozes off her and she simple writes.
'Go down to level five and you should find what you're looking for.' Squinting suspiciously at her for just a second you debate listening. But that is your inner Nesta speaking, and as much as you loved your oldest sister you didn't want to be completely like her. So, complying with a general order wouldn’t be an issue.
Thanking Clotho quickly you make your way down to the fifth level. And you could have throttled Azriel as he looked over at you with a set of children's books, letter sheets and pencils. He was leisurely sitting there, legs crossed, his ankle resting on his thigh. Arms crossed as he looked at you. And knowing him, while his face remained neutral- he had a feline smirk just like Rhys’s on the inside. Stomping over, crossing your arms and glaring down at the Illyrian man you hiss, "What are you doing?"
"Teaching you how to read." He answers simply, not even slightly phased by your intense gaze. The shadows that normally linger around him aren’t there, instead- as if to mock how little of a threat you are- they pool at his feet like a dog. You'd have to talk to Nesta about getting that icy glare down pat.
"You're still on about that?" You scuff, turning on your heel to leave him with his silly ideas. But before you can get far, a gentle but rough hand grabs your elbow.
"If you can read, then I'll accept I was wrong and even buy you dinner." Azriel compromises. But he knew better, he saw the way your eyes glazed over when they looked at your book and there was no rhyme or reason as to when you flipped the page. Normally people had consistency when they were reading, You had none. Even when Nesta was reading smut there was consistency to it- albeit the page turns got faster but it was still consistent.
You were convinced you could do this. You didn't need him to know this about you. Not even your sisters knew- sure Nesta and Elain probably had inklings to it but you were just six when poverty struck. They were just kids too, it wasn't there job to teach you. Sitting down at the table you looked at the page. It was easy- just trace the letters. You could do that. So you picked up the pencil and started. And once you were done you slid it over to him. "See?"
He nods, taking the sheet and looking it over. Nodding as he examines the work. Then he sets it down and meets your intense eyes, but he doesn't shy away. He takes the first book off the stack. It was a young child's book- it should be a breeze for someone of your age. Prick. You think as he slides it over and folds his hands on the table. Watching the way your eyes widen. Your breathing hitches and there's a slight tremble to your hands as you take the book. He knows that look in your eyes- it's the one Feyre gets when she's calculating a plan. And he couldn't deny that he was slightly excited to see what you'd come up with.
Flipping open the book you know what he's probably looking for is some sortive consistency, so you'd let your eyes look at each word and then flip the page. And so, that's what you did. Finding it hard to keep up your little deception with his eyes focused so intensely on you. But you got to the end of the book and closed it with a triumphant smack. Looking back up at him- before you can open your mouth to speak, Azriel looks at you and asks. "What was it about?"
Shit. Fuck. You didn't look at the pictures! You quickly look down at the book and see a dog and a young boy on the cover. "Its about a dog and his owner." You say as evenly as you can manage for how fast your heart was beating. Azriel raises an eyebrow. Silently waiting for more. "When did you get so expressive?" You ask to quickly change the subject.
"I don't have to be on guard here. There is no one else around. And the priestess won't judge me for showing an emotion." He addresses your question simply, smoothly. Damn him and his stupid sliver tongue. He was the Shadowsinger! Of course he knew how to evade topics and questions to redirect to what he wanted! He taps the book in between the two of you again. And you look at his hands, scars running all along them, and of course you had know that. But it was the first time that you saw them this clearly. And as much as you wanted to get out of this situation- you knew that question was out of the question. "What is this about?" His voice remains gentle, but slightly stern.
Azriel watches you for any signs. He had seen many of them- you were a bad liar. Your emotions written all over your face. Your eyes, they showed everything. How no one else saw it astonished him. And for a second, as he watches how you look down at the book with apprehension and sorrow, that you quickly wash away once your gazes meet again...he sees your resolve break.
"Fine." You say quietly. "I can't read." Your cheeks heat at the confession- it felt so...so...mortifying that you were now twenty, an immortal High Fae and had no idea how to read. "Please don't tell the others." The last thing you wanted was for your sisters to look at you with that pitiful look they always seemed to give you when you mentioned something. Let alone, how awful it make you feel if Nesta fell back into her vices. Granted you knew Cassian wouldn’t let that happen.
He thinks his heart might just burst for a moment. Seeing you so somber. Azriel had watched you from the second you were dumped out of that Cauldron. Shaking, crying, gasping for air. The first thing you did was try and push it over so your sisters wouldn’t bare the same fate. And for the first few weeks after, when he heard your screams in the middle of the night. He'd make sure you were alright, given you the space to talk to him if needed. You rarely took the opportunity. Pushing him away despite him reaching out. Keeping him at an arms length for reasons he didn’t understand. Time, though. Everyone kept telling him with time, you’d come around. But you pushed him right into Elain. Not that he hated your older sister. No, far from it. They were good friends, they could talk for hours about anything and everything. But she wasn't you. She wasn't his. She had her mate, and Rhys has made it clear to him that despite his feelings toward her- they could never be. Lucian wouldn't accept it until she flat out rejected him, and even then they had no idea what the other male would do. Rhys didn't want to loose his brother over a girl. And while Azriel grumbled and snarled at him, deep down. He knew that he was right.
But watching you, moving through the Night Court with a smile that didn't reach your eyes and a grace that rivaled Elain's...Hearing your laugh in a crowed room and smiling into his drink. He knew that you made yourself seem happy, chipper, played the part of the sweet younger sister for everyone. So looking at you now, as your cheeks burn red and tears threaten to spill out of your eyes. He'd do anything he could to make sure you'd never look like that again. Azriel gently takes your hand, letting his thumb swipe over your knuckles as you look up at him. "I won't tell a soul."
And you believe him. The sincerity in his eyes, he's got no reason to lie to you. But you can't help the smile that creeps up. "Thank you."
And a comfortable silence falls as you both continue to look at each other and let your thoughts run free. Before Azriel clears his throat- and you were about 87% sure that there was a blush creeping in. "I can continue to teach you, if you'd like."
Looking down at the book in between you, where your hand was still in his. Tracing the lines of his scars gently, you nodded. "I think i'd like that."
Azriel didn't bother to hide his smile.
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a/n: This got very long, very fast. But I hope you all like it! Let me know if there is anything else you guys wanna see! And if y’all wanna be added to the tag list, let me know! :3
tag list: @sidthedollface2 @cat-or-kitten @impossibelle @brunette-barbie1220 @scatteredstardustt @sammanna @cherry-cin @tele86 @judig92
#azriel x reader#acotar series#acotar fanart#acotar#azriel spymaster#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger#feyre x rhysand#feyre archeron#nesta x cassian#nesta archeron#pro nesta#nesta acotar#elain x lucien#elain archeron#pro elain
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from the outsider's view. [itoshi sae x reader]
notes: admittedly, no braincell here only "sae unconditionally lovey dovey" thought (ft. kaiser). i miss sae. and i want him to be happy for a bit. this guy seems like when he is committed he will become the commitment itself despite everything. cute in the way the sort of type who will put in the effort and worth the effort when he is the right person. also, happy cny ❤ warnings: cursings (it's kaiser). fluff. kaiser's pov aka outsider's pov, sae & you being lovey dovey, established relationship, reader's gender unspecified, post canon au, heavy hc that sae & kaiser doesn't get along (outside of the field esp). please don't look to closely into this. @doobea thank u for betaing beloved ♡❀
By any means, it is not as if Kaiser actively tries to murder Sae every time they meet.
But it also doesn’t mean he is buddy-buddy with him either. Honestly, Kaiser hates a lot of people’s guts—Yoichi and Noa currently contending for the #1 spot, sure, but Sae is pretty close up there if he has to list them down. The reason is not particularly complicated for this one, as anyone who has met Sae would agree he is a natural at making enemies. That mid-fielder is one of those people who will do better as a human being if they shut up and not pick up a fight with each breath they take.
So, imagine his surprise to meet the redhead—with you by his side, hand in hand—during a casual outing for some convenience store snack in broad daylight.
“The fuck are you doing here?” Kaiser doesn’t waste a second to ask the moment their eyes meet each other. Kaiser really doesn’t want to have a jerk greeting him the moment he tries to get into an aisle yet here he is.
Sae squints at him in a more offensive manner than usual and then subtly—but very obvious to Kaiser’s eye—pushes you slightly behind his back as if Kaiser might do something to you. Which is wrong—even if Kaiser is very aware he is not the shining beacon of goodness. “Shopping, clearly. What else?”
“Someone you know, Sae?” your voice asks from behind your assumed-boyfriend. Kaiser glances slightly at the blatantly color-coordinated casual clothes. Disgusting. Definitely a boyfriend then. “Oh! Is that Michael Kaiser?”
Kaiser raises an eyebrow as he meets your gleaming eyes. He certainly didn’t expect Itoshi Fucking Sae’s partner to acknowledge him with such enthusiasm. He expected someone who is more or less as bitchy as bitchy as the guy. A smile that has been trained for PR events forms itself on Kaiser’s face, “Why, hello—”
“It’s not,” Sae quickly cuts in. “Just some bugs. Let’s just get the drink and go.”
Fucking Sae.
“Now, now,” Kaiser sneers, his grin widening into an irritated smirk as he approaches closer towards Sae. Said dickhead responds by tugging you closer to him. Sae better be one of those types of unreasonably cutesy protective boyfriends or Kaiser might actually start taking offenses and maim him for real. “Is that a way to greet ‘a friend’, Sae? And—” Kaiser moves on to you, “—hello there.”
The quotation mark hangs heavily in the air. Sae scoffs while you finally get the chance to address Kaiser’s existence politely and introduce yourself, “Hello! Nice to meet you!”
How the fuck did someone who knows basic manners end up with Sae? Kaiser genuinely wants to know if you got paid for this or something. He will ask if it’s not for the fact Sae seems to be itching to claw the hell out of his face. Kaiser really doesn’t want to get lectured for a public incident if he actually gives in to the urge to sock Sae’s resting bitch face. So, instead, he keeps his focus on you even while keeping his sentence directed to you both, “I didn’t expect to see you here. Thought Sae is allergic to store-bought products.”
You laugh at that, whilst Sae sends you a sharp glare—that has a hint of besotted lovesick gaze in it what the fuck—that you promptly ignore in favor of answering Kaiser instead. “Yeah, he is a bit nosy sometimes, huh?” you muse fondly, “But he is open to some products, thankfully.”
Sae pipes in, “Hey.”
“Come on, it’s true,” you reply shortly. As your eyes meet Sae, the besotted lovesick gaze returns, this time reciprocated by your equally lovelorn affectionate one. Kaiser really doesn’t want to see this.
“Hmph,” Sae breathes out like some grumpy mangy cat. Then, as if he truly is some kitty raising up its fur and tail, Sae returns his glare to Kaiser. The way one of Sae’s hand wrap around your shoulder to press you close doesn’t escape Kaiser’s eyes. And the most annoying thing is perhaps the way that it evidently isn’t like Sae deliberately shows it to him like some territorial jealous dickhead. It’s like watching someone taking in a breath and that breath is some lovey-dovey fuckery. “We are going. Let’s go.”
As much as Kaiser wants to make Sae suffer a little bit more via playfully flirting with you or something, being a third wheel to the elder Itoshi sounds so awful it’s not even worth trying. Next time the two Itoshis duke it out by being on the opposite team, Kaiser genuinely considers rooting for the younger one just so he can see Sae fail. And also out of some twisted camaraderie because imagining being a witness to this frequently—one really either builds up some immunity or turns insane.
The sort of guy who casually must touch his lover all the time is unbearable to watch.
So, good fucking riddance.
“Shoo,” Kaiser waves Sae away. And the way you look at Sae like the redhead is the most wonderful man alive lowers Kaiser’s opinion of you enough for that wave to be directed at you too. Get a better taste.
You laugh nervously at their brief exchange as Sae drags you away. Kaiser too shifts his attention away from you. Unfortunately, turns out—fuck him—it isn’t enough to escape the barely audible whispers Sae shares with you as the two of you walk away from the aisle.
“You should be nicer. He is still someone you know.”
“He touched Isagi’s chin on their first meeting to fuck around—I’m not taking chances with that shithole.”
“Aw. I don’t think he will—he seems very aware I’m with you.”
“That guy is insane and it’s better to be ready to kick his dick when you have to. Don’t be too friendly with him next time.”
God. Kaiser wishes for a match with Sae soon just so he can duke it out with him without any repercussions.
#bllk imagines#bllk x reader#bllk#blue lock#blue lock fluff#blue lock x reader#bllk scenarios#blue lock scenarios#bllk fluff#blue lock imagines#blue lock sae#sae fluff#itoshi sae x reader#sae x reader#sae itoshi#sae x you#itoshi sae#bllk sae#sae x y/n#drabbles#miss writing bllk fics i wanna write more#also miss sae but when am i not. kaiser u better make it entertaining!!!
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Sub!Baizhu x Dom!reader
(No pronouns used)
TW: Sub!Baizhu + Aphrodisiac used + fingering + handjob + Baizhu being needy
Baizhu was a careful person with medicinal arts, always making sure to never spill anything or use the wrong medicine on sick and injured people. But today it was different. He was a tad overworked from staying up late, his eyes slightly drooping as he reached over to grab the glass of water on his desk, His fingers reached out for the glass but accidentally mistaking the Aphrodisiac bottle for water, he placed the rim of the water taking a refreshing sip, he let out a refreshed sigh and opened his eyes. Baizhu's eyes immediately widened when he saw the Aphrodisiac label on the side of the glass. He set the bottle down and quickly rushed out of his room to try and get something to at least help him. The Aphrodisiac effects started to kick in causing an overwhelming need and lust to wash over his whole body causing his knees to shake and for him to fall on the floor.. His right hand gripping the door handle while his left hand gripping the fabric of his pants, He panted heavily desperate for release or for someone to help him with his overwhelming need and lust.
Lucky for you. You stumbled across his office.. opened the door to see Baizhu who was kneeling down... The Aphrodisiac bottle on the floor spilling the remaining liquid out on the ground, His bronze-colored eyes immediately looked up at the person who stood by the door frame only to see you, His look turned from panic to pleading in an instant.. pleading with you to help him out from this awkward situation he was in. You took a step in before crouching down.. he moved his hand away from his crotch showing the bulge pushing against the fabric of his pants desperate to be free. Your right hand went to his bulge but instead of freeing it from his tight pants.. You started palming it gently against your palm causing whines and whimpers to leave Baizhu's mouth, His hips started bucking against you desperate for more pleasure on him.
It doesn't take long for you to remove his pants and underwear. letting his cock spring free, His eyes clouded with lust as the tip of his cock started leaking precum. Your hand wrapped around his cock before starting to stroke it.. Your other hand wrapped around his left thigh and opened it revealing his puffy hole just begging to be filled with your fingers. You couldn't deny such a beautiful entrance so you dipped your fingers in lube before sinking your fingers into his hole. You stroking his cock while fingering his hole was too much for him to handle.
Baizhu threw his head back, thrashing under you from the pleasure he was receiving from both his cock and hole. His cock started twitching in your hand leaking out more precum all over himself and his hand, dirtying the shirt he was wearing and the wooden floors. Your pace on both of his cock and hole turned from gentle to fast after a few seconds of letting him get used to being filled and stroked at the same time. Baizhu let's out a sob begging for release now, it wasn't long enough until your fingers found that oh-so-sweet spot finally letting your fingers roughly thrust into that sweet spot you desperately craved to find.
It didn't take long for Baizhu to cum all over your hand, He arched his back and moaned loudly, the spot under his legs dirty with his cum.. His body slowly relaxed from the pleasure, You slowly removed your hands from his cock and hole but to only be met with Baizhu's hand grabbing your wrist back with a pleading look.
Surely you'll give him more and help him right?
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Soft Spot.
[nsfw]
Ghost was feared throughout the unit, however he had caught the eye of someone. Constant thoughts ran through as he offered to buy drinks, only to be met with a blunt rejection. It wouldn't go further... would it?
fem!reader, smut, MDNI, 18+, eating out, rough, cum shots, unprotected!sex, strangers to lovers?
Ghost was a fearful soldier in your unit, always parading around as some brooding villain. No one would ever cross the thought of pissing him off. You were a new recruit, barely any training done. After work or during his free time, he’d scurry off to some hiding spot, leaving you bewildered on what he would be doing.
Occasionally you two would cross paths but his responses were always, “Yeah” or “no” or “Guess so”. He never gave you a full sentence, making your interactions dry and distasteful. Or if he did, it was to “correct” your mistakes in training in a harsh way. You kind of gave up on talking to him, just giving him small smiles as a way to show you were friendly.
It was sort of fair, only because of the rank difference. You were given no leisure in training or work in general.
You felt drawn to him, subconsciously staring at him when he was in meetings or passing by near him in hallways. In a recent meeting however, you saw his eyes bore into yours for a good while, making you curious as to why he suddenly took notice of you. Was he annoyed? Has he finally had enough of your ogling? All these questions would shimmer down your hope.
That was until he was next to you in the shooting range, seemingly releasing stress while practicing his aim. You took notice of how easy it was for him, then looked back at your barely damaged paper target. You sigh slightly at the sight, a punch of disappointment in your chest just before you start taking your pistol back to the weapon’s case.
“You’re tense. You need to be relaxed.” A gravelly voice said behind you, your head whipping over to it. Your eyes filled with bewilderment once again. Was he talking to you? His brown irises were interlocking with your eyes, he motioned you to walk back with your pistol. “You’re also holding it wrong.”
There it was, the mistake you awaited for him to point out eventually, as he did with everything. Ghost’s jaw slightly tensed as you began to walk over back into your firing lane. Ghost would place his pistol down with the safety on. The gruffly man stepped behind you, his weight slightly behind you, his hands gripped around your wrists to correct your position.
The second you felt his warm breath in your ear, your face grew hot. “Right…” You respond to his corrective action, not able to form a sentence. How the tables have turned. HIs fingertips were somewhat gentle when he helped you fix your grip on the gun. Your eyes would blink for a few moments, trying to pull back some of the color rising in your face.
“Relax.” He murmured to you again.
You took a deep breath in, and exhaled slowly out. Ghost lowered the pistol back into your hands, his grasp on your wrists loosened when you began to untense your body.
“Better.” He said with a hint of approval, turning around to place himself against the wall just behind you. Ghost crossed his arms and observed your stance for a moment, before tilting his head to the side to get a better view. “Now, try again.”
The close proximity drove you up a fucking wall. LIttle or no words spoken between you two to him helping you in your aim. Trying to decipher that man was a crisis itself and one you wouldn’t figure out until much, much later. A simple nod came from your head fearful that you’d blurt out something stupid if you spoke. You take your aim, lining down the target with the small sights on the pistol, shooting almost perfectly. You turn to look at him, attempting to read his expression under the mask.
Ghost glanced up from the firing range, his gaze wandering over to you as he took a few steps over to inspect your target.
“Good,” He praised you quietly, still observing your stance. You could hear a small airy huff as he looked at you. It almost sounded like a small smirk? “You’re a trained killer already.”
“You’re teasing me.” You responded to his comment, rolling your eyes with a playful grin tugging at your lips. Turning your sight back to the target in front of you, impressed by your own work. Ghost scoffed, his eyes wandering over to you as he watched you in silence.
“Just because you’re getting better doesn't mean you're good.” That was true, at least looking at your previous attempts on the poor target from before. Although what he said was right, he didn’t have to say it like that. It almost made you feel a bit dismantled in his choice of words. A sigh escaped his mouth. He seemed to pause before he looked back at the target.
“If you hit the center three times, I’ll take you out for drinks.” Ghost suddenly added to his statement. He? Take you out for drinks? His eyes remained on you as some sort of challenge to his own words. You were baffled at the offer, confused as to why he suddenly wanted to be around you, let alone share drinks. You’d smile at the idea of liquor, especially since it was free. Shaking off the anxiety, then looking back at the target with more focus behind your eyes, a clear shot.
You take your stance once more, to be even cockier, you only use a singular hand instead of two. Tap, Tap, Tap. Bullets flying sharply through the distance, you somehow, probably by the grace of god, landed three nearly perfect shots. Swiveling your head over to him, a smug expression plastered over your face. “Rounds are on you.”
Ghost’s eye expression widened in surprise, but he quickly disguised it with another gruff scoff. His gaze meets over to the target in front of you where you had hit the center of, then glanced back to you with furrowed brows. If he had to be honest, he was 100% sure you were going to hit the floor or the wall.
He didn’t seem like the kind of man who would normally bet, however Ghost was a man of his word. After a few moments and some pondering, he nodded. “I guess they are.” His sight lowered to the floor as he considered his offer.
You knew he wasn’t one to socialize. He’d always run off at the start of your conversations or flat out ignore people around him wanting his attention. You thought Ghost viewed you as annoying or even incomprehensible in some way, but maybe… Maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad.
A smug grin twitched to the corner of your lips for a moment, but you quickly hid it and cleared your throat. You begin to walk over to the weapon’s case where you had placed your pistol into, finishing your practice for the day. “Well… I guess I’ll see you after work..?” You’d ask hesitantly, furrowing your brows in a sort of confusion while looking at his taller build in front of you.
His expression was difficult to dissect, even more so with the mask that covered his face. He’d give a small, exhausted sigh when he turned his gaze towards you once again. With a small nod, he titled his head down to look at you better, studying you.
“After work it is.” He said quietly before turning away from you, then walking out of the shooting range. Probably to go hide until he saw you. Would he keep his word?
A few hours after some excruciating training with your Drill Sergeant, you found yourself waiting just outside of the base entrance, cleaned up of course. Your mind was occupied with how your outing with Ghost would go, your head racing with questions and scenarios. Ghost would eventually show up to where you were standing, surprisingly on time, which was another rare occurrence from him. Ghost’s gaze traveled up and down your appearance before tapping you on the shoulder, signaling that he was there.
“Ready to go?” He’d ask dryly.
“Oh, yeah. Ready to go.” You responded quietly, unsure of what else to do or say. Ghost would start walking ahead of you, not worrying if you’d catch up to him or not. The walk was slightly awkward and silence would fall between the two of you. Your legs stammered behind him for a few blocks just off base, enough to keep to his fast pace.
Finally arriving at the bar, a bright neon sign read “Ginny’s”. He’d head in first, sitting on a barstool. The bar was a hole-in-the wall kind of vibe, some music playing in the background and slight chattering. You follow behind him and sit in the stool next to him, looking at the area.
Ghost tapped his fingers against the counter twice to grab the bartender’s attention. He’d order himself a glass of whisky over rocks, and you whatever you told him. As the bartender prepared the drinks, Ghost’s eyes fell on you again. He wanted to ask a question.
“Why did you join?” The brits man asked you in a stern yet curious tone. He was attempting to have a conversation with you. Your body swiveled in the chair to give your attention to him, attempting to figure out your wording.
“I wanted to do something with my life, I guess.” You said to him in a quiet manner, giving him a half assed answer. His expression was unreadable from the half mask he wore. Ghost was trying to understand why you had joined, or what made you join, but he seemed a tad bit uninterested as he kept fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. Something else clearly on his running mind.
“My turn.” You spoke as your irises matched with his for a split second. “Why were you so harsh on me when I first joined?” You asked him with an eyebrow raised, hoping to get some answer back from him. Yet, Ghost only drummed his fingers against the counter top before rolling his mask slightly over his lips to take a sip of his drink.He’d give you another exhausted sigh as he thinks about what he’d say next.
“You needed to learn, not to be coddled. It made you better, didn’t it?” He replied back to your question. You drift your gaze to your glass, thinking about what he had said. It was true, it had made you better.
“Plus… I saw potential.” Ghost added while looking at you with a much softer expression than his more stoic one.
You raised an eyebrow at his word choice. He was looking out for you? Actively? Wow, now if that didn’t make your stomach do flips, then what did?
“Didn’t know you had a soft spot for me, lieutenant.” You joked, a teasing tone leaving your lips before sipping on your glass again. Ghost only looked at you for a moment, his gaze observing the way your lips moved while you spoke.
“I wouldn’t say that.” He’d muttered, his eye expression impassive. Before this whole interaction, you couldn’t get his attention, now it was all on you, constantly. He was thinking about something, yet you couldn’t place your finger on it. He was suddenly interested in you and he placed a bet offering to get drinks. You thought of your next question when the conversation died the next few minutes.
This was your chance to ask him for coffee sometime, maybe even dinner. “Would you be interested to grab coffee sometime with me?” You reluctantly asked, hoping for the answer you desired. You felt giddy after you asked the question. Another blank stare as he stood up from the barstool. “No.” The word leaves his mouth bluntly.
“I’m not interested.” Ghost continued, leaving a twenty at the counter and exiting the bar abruptly. His voice seemed unsure? Unsure of what he said. How was he not interested if he had his undivided attention on you since the shooting range.
Well, that was a painful rejection. Maybe you got the wrong idea when he offered going to the bar? Maybe you read his hidden expressions poorly? You watched him leave, another punch of disappointment, this one hitting your heart.
Soon after the whole scene, you finish your drink and sulk all the way back to the base and into your barracks. You kept thinking about the interaction. His eyes and mask sprayed across your memory on full blast, your brain making sure you never forgot.
The next few days were boring, your head bending around the situation that happened a while ago at the bar. A small sadness twinged on your face while you trained. Your assumptions wrapped around the clumsy words you said.
You had zero idea why you were so hell bent on this man.
It was noticeable, but you thought it through. You’d ignore it and continue doing your job and getting better at your mistakes. Everytime when you crossed paths with Ghost, he refused to look in your direction, another stab to your chest. After a week, you still hadn’t gotten over the fact that Ghost rejected you.
You’d do things on the side such as more aiming practice or intelligence collection. Anything at this point.
Although Ghost had seemed like he’d cut you off, you catch him now and again staring at you, watching you, his mind and face undecipherable.
The days stretched and became more and more of the same routine, except you didn’t have Ghost on your radar. He seemed to be avoiding you and wouldn’t even look in your direction. Did he have to be so rude about it? All he could’ve said was that he wasn’t interested politely and you would’ve moved on. Why was this so difficult? This whole situation just made you frustrated.
Your eyes fluttered open when you heard a hard knock on your barrack door. A small groan escapes your mouth, attempting to tune out the sound. A louder knock comes from the door, resulting in you turning to your side to see two shadows from feet in the light under it.
You shuffle out of your bed and stammer your way towards it, wondering who could be bothering you at this hour. Unlocking the door, your hazy eyes meet with someone's chest. The sound of someone clearing their throat makes your gaze focus on their face, or mask as you now noticed.
You crossed your arms, confused and a bit taken aback as to why he was here in the first place. A remembrance of a memory where he rejected you coming across as well, a sour expression falling to your face.
“What do you want?” You asked bluntly, wanting to get this over with.
You thought he was here to berate you about your offer or to tell you that you’re in trouble for saying something of that sort. You huff at the stance and look he gave you in your own door way.
Ghost let out a small frustrated sigh. “I’m sorry.” He said quietly to you. You raise an eyebrow to what he replied with. “Look, if you have some guilt after all, save it. You rejected me, I'll get over it eventually.” You rant once again, bluntly. You begin to close the door to your room, a strong hand stopping it. Your patience was growing thin. Another sigh coming from his nostrils.
“I know. And–I’m sorry.” He repeated with a defeated eye expression.
Your body loosens again, your gaze darting a few times, as you don’t know what to do or say back to him.. “I do have guilt for just leaving you at the bar like that.” Ghost admitted, looking at your smaller frame.
You were flabbergasted. “I know what I said, but I am interested. It was a mistake at the time.” He added, his eyes searching for your reaction. You were taken aback. You wanted to pinch yourself at this because you thought you were dreaming.
“But because of the rank difference, I was distant. Hesitant to pursue you.”
Your lips were parted slightly as you took in the information. You didn’t know what to say or think, you were left speechless. He took a step further, now in the threshold of your barrack doorway. You take a step back, your stomach beginning to wave off pressure.
Your heart wanted to rip itself out of your chest while you stared at him with blank eyes. You hesitate, wondering if this was dangerous or not, but reluctantly agree with your brain. Your body was less defensive as you looked at him with a forgiven breath. “Really?” You question him.
“This isn’t some joke or something is it?”
Ghost shook his head. “I’m being completely honest.” His hands stuffed into his pockets while looking down at your smaller frame. “I’d like to take you up on your offer.”
“Does… sometime this week fit in your schedule..?”
A smile spreads across your face and you flush slightly at the thought, your heart mending itself, completely forgetting about the original rejection. You had that familiar giddy feeling again. “Yeah, we can go down the street to a new cafe that opened.” You eagerly respond to him. A quietness fell over the two of you again. Ghost’s eyes would wander over your body, taking in your tank top and shorts that you were sleeping in.
Ghost shifted his weight. “Can I come in?” He’d ask in a husky voice while searching for your approval. You nod, giving him simple permission to enter. You moved aside from your door and he swiftly came inside your room. Ghost would close the door behind himself, locking it afterwards. Your eyes had to readjust to the darkness before you turned on a lamp on your small desk.
Ghost took a few small steps towards you, inspecting your body language before he rolled up his mask past his lips slightly. His eyes asked for your approval to kiss you, you gave another nod. He leans down and places his warm lips atop of yours, a hand moving to your waist. His mouth had an accent of whisky, a small yet noticeable amount.
A free hand glides to your head, lacing fingers in your hair to pull you forward to deepen the kiss. Your hands found themselves pressed firmly against his chest, your body slightly slumped at the feeling. He breaks apart from your tender lips and looks down at you, his hand brushing against the fabric of the tank top you wore.
“Let me help you.” Ghost would say, his calloused fingers coming under your tank top, grazing over your skin. Both of you strip away the article of clothing, a cool breeze hitting your tits. Now both of his hands glide over your skin, then cup your breast. He seemed pleased, at least from what you could tell. With a small flick to your nipple, it grew hard. The pain sensation of your skin made you jolt. “All mine.”
Mind you, his eyes never left your face while he touched you. He leans down to kiss you again, a groan against your mouth when he caresses your breasts. One of his knees propped itself between your thighs, making your pussy tighten around nothing at the feeling. The kiss between the two of you becomes more rough as his tongue slips in with ease, fighting for dominance over yours. Ghost would continue to play with your chest, while his knee pressed even further against your clit. Your hips moved slightly against his thigh through the fabric of your shorts.
You let out a sigh at the feeling of your body pulsating against him, making your head spin. It wasn’t long before he had you pinned up to a wall, still with his knee between your messy thighs. Your cunt was beginning to seep from your own juices, creating a wet spot in your panties.
His knee left from your needy hole for just a moment as he had you backed up. “Take them off.” You didn’t even hesitate with that demand, you took off your shorts, pushing them down until they fell to the floor. Ghost would kick them to the side,his eyes settling at the damp mess between your inner thighs.
“Such a fucking naughty one, huh?” Ghost murmured, a finger slipping under the hem of your panties, sliding them off down to your ankles. As he smoothly disregarded them, he dropped to his knees. His hands landed themselves on the outside of your upper thighs, holding you in place. A small smirk toyed on his lips before he licked at your clit, a whine escaping your mouth from anticipation. His hot breath against your pussy was just enough to send you over the wall.
He sucked and nibbled at your sensitive skin before his tongue would slide into your cunt, pumping you with it. Your body squirmed, your knees wanting to buckle from under you, which only made Ghost’s hands on your thighs tighten. For a man as asocial as he was, he knew what he was doing. It was almost unfair. Your eyes met with the ceiling of your room, giving Ghost a sign that he was doing his work correctly.
His tongue would hit the sweet spot from within you. Bingo. He’d continue to work on you, making sure to use his tongue to hear your singing voice. Ghost would still look up at your facial expressions, your mouth agape, a small hint of drool leaking from it. “Don’t stop, please.” a cry exiting your lips. Your legs trembled at the feeling of your body getting close to climaxing. It was almost embarrassing how close you were already.
“Don’t—I'm so close.” A whispering plea coming from your mouth, begging for him to do whatever he was doing.
A few more moans left your throat as you came into his. Ghost would lap up every drop from your pussy, as if he was some dog quenching its thirst, releasing soft groans against your sensitive cunt. You were panting during the time it took him to slowly guide his hands back up to your waist, holding you in place again. One of his hands breaking away to slide his own pants down, alongside his boxers, tossing them to the side when he stripped himself of his clothing.
Ghost gently wrapped his rough hand around his own cock, slowly pumping it a few times while he looked at you. Before lingering himself near you, he spit in his hand, smothering it over your throbbing pussy to prepare you. You raised yourself by your tiptoes to make it easier for him to push himself into. Guiding his cock to your entrance, his tip slipped in with ease.
He then put a hand back onto your waist, using his foot to nudge your thighs a little bit more apart. Ghost would move inch by inch, slithering himself slowly inside you to adjust to his size. He’d pull almost all the way in but not before he slid back in, stuffing you full.
“Taking me so well.” He’d whisper near your ear, ensuring you’d hear his compliment. A bulge appears from within you on your lower abdomen.
“Fuck.” He’d groan quietly while filling you.
His hips would repeat this as a way to split you open from the inside, making sure you could feel every inch of him. You could feel your eyes wanting to meet with the ceiling again. Your sounds of pleasure filling the room for a split second. That was before Ghost removed one of his hands from your waist and placed it over your mouth, silencing you.
He was anticipating how loud you’d be, hence why he covered your dirty mouth. No one could figure out what was happening between a lieutenant and a recruit. Both of you would be chewed out and probably thrown out if anyone did. You were bending the rules for your own desires, and now his. How far would it take you?
“Shhh… Try and stay quiet for me, love.” He asked in a quiet manner, hoping you’d oblige. But you knew you couldn’t keep by that promise.
Your back pushes off the wall slightly, making his cock push further into you. A muffled moan escaping from your voicebox. He’d start off slow for a minute or two then he would start fastening his thrusts within you, hitting and bruising every part. Your insides clenching down on his already sensitive cock as he fucked up into you.
Ghost would mutter things to himself as he felt himself losing it within you. The whole thing of “having what you’re not supposed’ only makes him move his hips into you more, plunging your needy hole.
The only sounds to fall into your room were his ragged fast pace breathing, the slapping of both of your bodies and your quieted moans. Your body continued to writhe and wriggle under him. His hand on your waist tightened, making sure to keep you in place.
His eyes never left yours, watching your eyebrows furrow from the pleasure. His breathing was becoming heavier, his cock pounding you deeply, abusing your body.
Your eyes threatened to release the tears that watered them while this played out. Your second orgasm on the rise to finish, you can feel him move with a more vigorous pace. It was almost too good to be true.
As you were getting closer and closer to finishing, he placed a hot kiss on your lips, pushing his tongue in to meet yours. You’d moan into his mouth while he grunted into yours. Your walls clenched around his cock, releasing yourself all over it. One last mewl escaping your mouth yet muffled by his, making it quieter.
Nothing has ever made you feel like this, especially your own fingers. This was definitely something else, something better than you imagined.
Ghost placed his hand back to your mouth after tearing away from the kiss, his eyes eager to climax himself. More forcible thrusts would enter and exit your body while you ride your orgasm out
“So good. Fuck, so good.” Ghost would say behind gritted teeth as he too, was holding back his own voice now.
His grasp on your waist tightening, bruising the supple flesh from under his textured hands. A few more movements, he pulled his throbbing cock out from your clenching walls. Pumping it again, this time coated with the sleek shine of your juices covering it.
He cums over the skin on your thighs, letting out a closed mouth grunt from it, a sort of growl. He pants slightly from all the movement. The liquid dribbled down your weakened legs.
Your legs trembled, shook even at the pressure from within your own pulsating body. Removing his hand from your mouth, he looked at your ecstasy filled body, satisfied grin placed on his lips. He moves away from your body and heads towards the bathroom where he tosses a towel over his shoulder. As you still stood against the wall, your back touching it, he began to clean the mess between your legs.
Your body ached, it was sore, and definitely bruised in several places. Ghost would carefully lead you over to your bed where he sat you on the edge to continue to clean you.
“You have a soft spot for me after all.” You teased with a weary and exhausted voice.
“I do. Only for you.”
#114 x reader#cod x reader#mw2#call of duty#cod modern warfare#cod mw3#cod mw2#mw2 2022#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x read#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon riley#cod mwii#ghost x reader#cod smut#cod ghost#mdni#mw smut#unprotected sex#ghost cod#simon ghost x reader
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Hiraeth | Joel Miller
pairing: dbf!joel x f!reader
rating: 18+, minors do not interact
warnings: no outbreak, usage of marijuana, smoking, both reader and Joel get high, age gap (twenty-ish years), very much legal + consensual relations, smut (f oral receiving, fingering), pet names, no use of y/n.
word count: 1k
synopsis: the most invigorating and intoxicating drug you’ve had in your life is completely forbidden… and then there’s weed.
divider by @saradika-graphics
hiraeth (noun): the feeling of being homesick for a home one is not able to return to; homesickness pertaining to a home that never was.
You took another hit, the joint slotted between your fingers crackling in urgency. You hummed as your lungs burned so good, desperate for the warm summer night air that engulfed your body. You closed your eyes as you let the high roll through your body, sighing in content.
Your legs were tossed over Joel’s lap—the same Joel you shouldn’t be anywhere near because he was supposed to be off limits. Your shorts were unbuttoned and your bright colored swimsuit bottoms peeked through, teasing Joel with a reminder of what you looked like in his pool just hours prior.
Joel threw neighborhood barbecues all the time, and with your dad being his best friend, you were always invited.
You knew it was wrong to be fucking your dad’s best friend, someone twenty—give or take—years your senior.
But how could something so wrong feel so right?
Joel tapped your leg and you peeked an eye open. He was looking down at you with bemusement written over his features, holding two fingers out for you to pass the nearly finished joint to him. You happily obliged, handing it off to him before settling back down into the depths of the comfy outdoor couch on Joel’s backyard patio.
Joel’s thumb was rubbing over your shin slowly, gently tracing circles into the freshly shaved flesh. Your eyes opened again and Joel was staring at you this time, eyes hooded and dark with desire.
“We’re lucky your father doesn’t hover.” Joel murmurs into the night, sighing as his free hand trails higher up your legs.
“I know. Then we wouldn’t be able to do all the things we’d want if he did hover.” You huff a laugh, and Joel quirks a brow at you before offering the last of the joint. You shook your head slightly, and he took one last hit before he stubbed out the dud.
“Things, hm?” He asks, hand dipping into the waistline of your shorts. His fingers skate over your covered cunt, and goosebumps easily rise onto your skin.
Your brain is foggy and you feel like you’re floating, and Joel’s touch feels like heaven.
“Will you let me eat your pretty pussy, baby?” Joel’s voice is husky, a lazy smirk pulled onto his velvet lips.
“Please.”
Your senses are elevated, so every single touch he gives you is one that has you reeling.
“Such a good girl, usin’ her manners n’ all.”
You bite your lip and look at him, eyes no doubt half-lidded. If you weren’t high, it probably would’ve been a sultry look.
Joel’s quick to take off your shorts, prompting you to sit upright so he can kneel down in front of you. His kisses up your thighs are all lips and tongue, making you breathe harder as he gets closer to your aching core. He kisses you once over the fabric of your bikini bottoms, and you softly whine his name.
“Patience, sweetheart. I’ll take good care of ya.”
Joel slips the material off of your legs, only to be met with your glistening core.
He’s looking at you like a man starved, irises black and laced with determination and desire.
He brings a hand up and runs two fingers through your slick folds, groaning at how easy the glide is. He brings his fingers up to his mouth, sucking on them both to taste you.
“So fuckin’ sweet. Like nectar from a peach, baby.” He moans, not wanting to waste any more time. He moves forward and, with a flat tongue, licks a long stripe from your aching hole to your puffy clit.
You gasp and your fingers are tangling in his curls, eyebrows threading together at how intensified it feels.
And he doesn’t relent. He’s working at you with his tongue, slow and lascivious. Every fiber of your being tingles with a euphoric pleasure as he laps up your seemingly never ending arousal.
“Holy fuck,” You cry, gripping his hair tighter. He moans into you with a chuckle before he brings his tongue down to fuck into you at an increased pace. Your back arches off of the couch as you roll your hips, legs starting to shake.
“Close already, baby?” Joel tsks, and you groan in response.
Joel knew you and your body like the back of his hand, so he could easily make you come undone within minutes.
Sometimes it wasn’t fair, because if it were up to you, you’d have him down there forever. You don’t think he’d really mind it either.
Joel moves his tongue out of you and up up up toward your aching clit, licking tight circles around it before sucking the sensitive nerves into his mouth. He inserts the two fingers that were previously teasing you minutes prior into your needy cunt, expertly pumping at a synchronized pace with his mouth.
“Jesus fuck Joel, ‘m gonna come.” Your voice is whiny and desperate and so fucking breathy that you barely even recognize it. It was only him that could make you feel like this. Nobody else, just Joel.
Joel Joel Joel.
You felt the crescendo of your orgasm building quickly, and Joel pulled his mouth away for a split second as his fingers curled themselves in your tight heat to hit that spot that make you see the whole galaxy behind your eyes.
“Can feel it, sweet girl. C’mon baby. Give it t’me. Wanna drink you up.”
And you were a fucking goner. Your eyes rolled back as that tight coil snapped, rushing through your body so intensely it nearly made you dizzy. You gushed onto his fingers and in his mouth, and he drank up every last thing you offered him.
You were desperate to catch your breath, body unsubstantial as you melted into the couch. You winced as Joel slowly pulled out his fingers, groaning at the loss of fullness.
You open your tired eyes to look at him, and he gives you a soft smile before kissing you. You taste yourself on him, but he also tastes like mint and whiskey and Joel.
He made you feel so invigorated. You couldn’t get enough of him. He felt safe. He felt like home.
Maybe in another life—one where he wasn’t your dad’s best friend and where he wasn’t twenty something years older than you—
You could be selfish for once and have it all.
tags: @party-hearses ; @ilovepedro ; @punkshort ; @tinygarbage ; @amanitacowboy ; @nostalxgic ; @pascalpvnk ; @cool-iguana
#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#dbf! joel smut#dbf!joel miller#dbf!joel#joel miller x female reader#dbf!joel miller x f!reader#dbf!joel miller x you#joel miller one shot#joel miller imagine#joel miller au#joel miller fanfic
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“ forget me not... ”
synopsis: neuvillette, too late to confess his love to you, is drowning from the suffering and regret that came along with it, especially after knowing that you felt the same all along.
tags: gn!reader x neuvillette, depression and low self-esteem, bittersweet ending, mentions of freminet, lynette and melusines, heavily implied reader death and neuvillette also kinda wanting to die
a/n: people want this and i have came to deliver (hopefully) enjoy~ this is my first long fic that i published
How can this be….?
Neuvillette sat in the corner of his office, all your letters in his right hand. How can you say you loved him… how dare you describe the love, the passion, everything you felt for him when he can't even say it back.
How can you love someone so unlovable?
His silent cries can't match up to the violent outbursts of the skies outside. Days went by when he first found out, the melusines were scared to death about who would report it to him. The way you dissolved into water, not even seeing you for the last time—not having the privilege to have a proper funeral.
He failed you… the monsieur wasn't too sure on many things but this one was certain.
Reading your diaries, knowing your thoughts and hopes for the future. It was an invasion of privacy but also in a way… the last remnants of your existence. One such entry was that of three years ago where you first met.
Encountering this, a profuse blush colored his face. The adjectives being used "handsome", "tall" and "kind" for your first meetingwith the chief justice. Far from the truth really, although Neuvillette knew you meant every word.
You always did.
You always were an honest person.
The very first day his lavender eyes met yours, to the very last. There was never a trace of impurity or a hint of a liar. Of course, the verdict went in your favor, because to him a precious rose like you can never steal and the plaintiffs were wrong.
Reading it now, not even a slightly negative comment was made to those who wrongly accused you.
"Maybe they had their reasons, after all, I was also in need of money at that time." you wrote. Adding on that you defended the "Monsieur Neuvillette" when people called "such a man of honor and kindness" a "merciless and arrogant man".
A man of honor and kindness? Your words became running thoughts in the hydro dragon's head. That day was one of the only days he didn't cry after a trial. Neuvillette was just happy that such a person of integrity was cleared of their name.
He turned through the pages of the diary, how you taught him to socialize and even mend his relationship with the hydro archon.
"Monsieur Neuvillette was too adorable! Being with a person of lowly status and treating me with such respect and humility, he truly is the epitome of mercy and loveliness."
How can you be so blind? Anyone with eyes will know that it's a privilege to be with someone so beautiful, especially to be with someone like Neuvillette. A cold and repulsive soul. You make him sound like a good person, when in fact he isn't both good and human.
He was a monster… these words of humanity you always used to describe a monster. Why do they sound so genuine? Why do they look so real? Maybe only you can make him like that, you and only you.
A few pages later he finally saw the words…
Words that should've made him scream in euphoria… tore him to a million pieces. Because even before this he already loved you… because you had so much time to confess but never did… and never will.
"I think I'm in love with the chief Justice."
And after that, he couldn't even get himself to read, he couldn't. His eyes got so blurry to see, his heart became too heavy to feel. Why were you… why you? In a world filled with monsters, they chose an angel. They chose a soul that still wanted to live, love and give. Those demons… despicable.
Remembering his shortcomings, maybe in some way he could've avoided all of this. Neuvillette shouldn't have given you his blessing to investigate the serial disappearance case.
But that glint of adventure in your eyes… he was too soft to reject you.
It was all his fault.
Wiping his tears he looked at the last entry of the diary… Oh.
Oh.
"After this investigation, I'll finally confess to him… I surely hope Neuvillette feels the same way, I even planted some forget-me-nots to give him in the backyard so that he'll know when it rains and he weeps. I will always be here."
The chief justice didn't know what was coming to him but he started running… and only then can he see the state of Fontaine. Many flowers have wilted and only a few people were outside. What had he become..?
"What's up with this weather? It isn't even the rainy season yet?!" A shop owner complained.
"I know! My crops have been drowning these days, at this rate if it doesn't stop we'll have a famine!"
It was all his fault, his running turned to a slow walk taking in all that he had done. This was all because of him. The lonely streets, the lowered morale. This was all because—
"Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, please don't cry!"
He turned to the voice and saw a young boy in the distance. Neuvillette remembered now, his name was Freminet. That child on which you doted extremely, giving him sweets and hushing his tears. The chief justice quickly let go of his gaze and continued to walk.
"You see Freminet, it didn't work... let's go inside."
The response was that of a stoic young woman, but he just continued his legs even if they wanted to rest all to see the last thing you cared for… those flowers. And when he finally was at the destination he saw it immediately outside.
It was in the bushes, he couldn't miss it. Every corner of your house was haunted, every tiny thing was a memory. The chairs you painted, the drawings pinned in the cabinet of you and him with the melusines. It was precious. All of it. Just as you are.
He finally saw them, most were almost to bloom and some were wilted. Picking one he unconsciously kissed it, perhaps mistaking it for you. These flowers were made to remind him he was never alone, but now he is.
More alone than he can ever be in one lifetime. Your scent still filled every corner, a remembrance of the biggest "what if" in his life. Your will stated that every single thing of yours is his just as you were always his. Bittersweet was he when reading it.
Neuvillete forgot that too included your house, maybe he was too consumed with your thoughts to visit this place. He was twisting the poor flower that looked so tiny compared to his hand. Perhaps that's what it's like to be with him. It's a curse…
He continues to caress the flowers, to treat them as if they were you. You were wrong on one thing about this, even if there were no flowers he will never forget you. Never, no way! The love he has for you can destroy nations and can cause millions of sacrifices. Just to keep you, to see your smile again.
But he can't even do that, you didn't give him the privilege to do something for you. If only he knew, he would've… done everything for you. The love that can create the strongest of floods failed to protect the one person he was supposed to protect.
At that moment, he felt the waters, the ocean, his home… you. It made his crying bearable, somewhat. Grief that could surpass a lifetime, wasn't enough. Nothing he can do will ever be enough to have you again. Perhaps he should also leave this world to stop being a burden to the people… and maybe to see you again.
"Neuvillette…"
Now he was even imagining your voice, or was he? Maybe he was delusional but he still followed your voice even if it took him to an unknown path. But the end was in a small pond, where you used to keep the fish, all of which were alive and well.
"Neuvillette…?"
At this he didn't even care if was going insane, your voice sounded like a melody even if it uttered his name. It sounded like a rare jewel, a myth, a prophecy too good to be true.
"Darling?" He replied in a hopeful tone. He looked through his surroundings, no longer was he in a pond but a terrain of boundless water. In the middle was a flying Oceanid, a spirit. Was it—could it be?
"Even I could feel the heavy pouring of rain, monsieur… don't be sad."
It was indeed your spirit, a part of you that remained before that bastard—he'll make whoever did this pay. It wasn't for justice anymore, this one is for revenge.
"How can I not? When I have failed you over and over again, I couldn't even get to say…"
"That you love me?"
His eyes widened, looking at you. Even if it didn't look like you, he knew… he always did. A nod soon followed after that, it was barely noticeable even at this rate the chief justice was a bit shy saying it.
"I just don't know why you could ever say you love me, how you could even think of me so kindly. Why? How? How can you love me back?" He was clueless to what you mean.
"How can I not?"
The reply you uttered was one of a teary-eyed person. Even to this moment you still haven't accepted you had died, not when he was still alone needing you.
"Just as you said… how can I not? You out of all people my dear… know of the sacrifices we make for the person we love."
It was that moment where you took your normal form, you looked beautiful as the day he lost you. As beautiful as the day you met. And as you walked towards him, the clock ticking until your final goodbye, it was time.
"I love you Neuvillette, i always had and continue to do so." For the last time, you cupped his cheek and kissed him.
"I love you, darling from the very beginning and every single lifetime to come." He let go of the kiss and hugged you tight, closing his eyes, until you disappeared not knowing he was hugging his own.
Opening his eyes, the rain was long gone, and what remained were the flowers in the bushes, the ponds, the fish, and him. Maybe… just maybe he will bring you and the other victims to light.
Until then, this one last encounter and goodbye will make him content. He was sure… that finally his love will be at rest.
#neuvillette x y/n#neuvillette x you#neuvillette x reader#neuvilette x reader#neuvilette genshin#neuvillette x gender neutral reader#neuvillette#genshin x gender neutral reader#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin x y/n#genshin neuvillette#neuvillette angst#neuvillette imagines#neuvillette drabbles#genshin angst#genshin imagines
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