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roturo · 8 months

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ OH! SO YOU'RE INTO OLDER MEN?

˚₊·➳❥ JJK MEN SHOWING YOU HOW A REAL MEN FUCKS! satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, toji fushiguro ✧˚ · .

tags: afab!reader, reader is mentioned as a female, use of nicknames (baby, princess, doll, slut, whore), cheating, degradation, caught cheating, getting caught, unprotected sex, blowjob, pussy slapping, mating press, breeding, age-gaps, virginity loss [...] rbs are appreciated!

satoru gojo (Daddy’s girl)

well, that’s the word he used for the little girl you're babysitting right now. he’s a great dad and husband. there’s just this tiny whiny little thing he couldn’t do right– and that’s loving his wife as he should.

like– it’s not that he doesn’t feel guilty, it’s just… well, you looked really cute in that mini dress, he and his wife have been fighting lately anddd– he could tell his daughter liked you more than her fatality of mother she has these days. she even called you mommy by accident once! and that was the last water drop gojo needed for the glass to break.

“Oh- I bet you’d love to be full of me right now.” His thrusts became messier each time he pounded on you, “Mhh, fill you up ‘n make me a daddy again– you’d like that princess?” you couldn’t even talk anymore with how good he’s making you feel– he had your legs pressed on the bed thanks to his arms, almost bending you in half, he was making sure that mating press works.

“Ffffuckk- You feel s’good baby” He felt your walls clenching again, no matter how many times he made you come, he’s making sure you’re coming again after he does. A not ending cycle for him. “Such a slut for me hm? Coming all nice and pretty to this house just to be ruined at night–” his words made you feel dirty, but the euphoria of it was stronger, “such” slap, “a nasty” slap, “slut” slap– “and all f’me” with those last thrusts your body couldn’t take it anymore, spasming and trembling while your poor hole was filled up again. gojo’s wife didn’t even bothered to break your little encounter, she suspected it long time ago.

all that was left was a wide grinning gojo satoru and some divorce papers.

suguru geto (Daddy’s best-friend)

you didn’t intend this to happen… you always knew your dad’s best-friend was hot. he’s geto, ‘cmon. he brings a new girl every weekend whispering in your dad’s ear swearing she’s the one this time.

he saw you grow up, turn into this beautiful and strong woman. so how he couldn’t love you? you were like a doll for him, so beautiful and radiant in every way. a porcelain doll he needed to protect, he couldn’t lose you to any dangerous or stupid man, he swears he would beat the shit out of the guy who breaks your heart first.

“Shhiiiitt– Heh– I can tell how tight your pussy is princess–” His cock was stretching the living shit out of you, touching places never in a thousand years you could imagine you would feel. “what d’ya think daddy would say if he saw his little girl being fucked by his best-friend huh?” your brain was a fuzzy mess, you couldn’t make coherent words to say, and just feel how good geto is making you feel. you couldn’t remember how many times he had made you cum with his toungue and he’s just starting to fuck your pussy.

“ ‘m such a lucky guy if i'm the first you’re giving this pussy to, don’t ya think so doll? marking it as mine, baby I swear you’ll need no man to ever fuck this pussy of yours again– shit I won’t need another woman for myself, you’re the one baby” those words filled your heart of a tingly feeling, making more butterflies roam around your tummy, touching yourself you could sense geto’s cock coming and leaving with every thrust, your brain full of air and in need of more of his cock.

he couldn’t resist himself anymore when he was next to you, his cock would get hard the minute he enters your house, and thankfully he has a pretty doll to release himself with.

kento nanami (Big Boss)

Nanami thinks he’s a good and mature guy– At least for his wife and kids… He has this aura of a serious and mature guy but inside every time he’s just this close to breaking it, just to say what he really thinks or feels.

the first time he saw you at work with your tiny skirts and tight blouses he didn’t mind any type of attention to it, you were another cute worker, that’s all. One of another– he can think other women are pretty too right? maybe even prettier than his wife… and nicer, and cuter, and more homely feeling to be a mom. but he wouldn't do anything he would later regret right?...

“You’re s’pretty baby, such a dirty whore for my cock mhm?” he had you pounding from behind, his desk becoming even messier than it was before, one of his hands keeping you laid down on the desk arching your back like if he’s trying to break it– a sudden ringing brought you back from your unconsciousness of nanami’s cock– he answered the call, not a single sing of him trying to stop thrusting into you.

“Yeah?” his voice was out of breath, almost sounding like a sigh when he answered the call, “Where am I? Huh– I’m at the office r-right now…?” he wasn’t even sure if he could keep this act, losing himself more in the feeling of your pussy clenching on his cock– “Oh yeah- I’m okay, uhh- the kids? yyeah, yeah, they’re with my mom right now–” the feeling of keeping up a call with his wife while fucking you made his cock twitch inside of you, feeling like a teenager kissing their crush for the first time. it was no surprise for him that his wife was cheating, but he wanted to keep it like that for the sanity of his kids.

“Quit the act Kento– I know you’re fucking somebody else right now. See ya at home.”

toji fushiguro (Step-Daddy)

you hated when your mother started dating new guys. they just kept breaking her heart– but you just stopped telling her that it's okay to live without a partner, that she had you by her side, but well… this new man was something else i guess and you didn’t say anything for the sake of your own good mother.

you didn’t like him, but for the sake of your mother you pretended like you do– and let’s be honest, toji doesn’t like children, so when he first met you he wasn’t as social as others… your mom was just too good to simply let go– but the way you moved, talked, dressed caught his attention, and as time passes and he spends more time with your mom– he's no longer drawn to your house just to see your mother, but to see you.

“Sshhiit- You’re making me feel s’good baby” the lack of air was making you feel giddy, but the way his cock twitched inside your mouth made your core get even wetter. “C’mon baby, ride my shoe,” you wasted no time before your hips started moving, trying to gain some friction and release that tingly feeling coming from your core.

“D’ya think your mother would like to see her daughter being full of his step-daddy’s cum?” he gets one of his arms behind himself trying to gain some support while his other free hand caresses your cheeks while you continue sucking– this same hand moves out your head and frees his cock out of your mouth, a small strand of saliva connecting your mouth with it–

“Fuck– guess i choose the wrong out of you two”

#gojo satoru smut #geto suguru smut #nanami kento smut #toji fushiguro smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #geto smut #nanami smut #toji smut #toji fushiguro x reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru #nanami kento #toji fushiguro #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #nanami kento x reader #fushiguro smut

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et6rnalsun · 21 days

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LET ‘EM KNOW, chris sturn

𝜗𝜚 pairing: chris sturn x fem! reader

warnings: 18+ smut, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up) literally js sex, chris being rough as always, slightly toxic! reader & toxic! chris

posted this cuz i needed to post something so here u go sum freaky smut. there’s a small time skip directly to the sex, hope it’s clear

your relationship with chris was complicated — and it couldn't even be called that.

something unfinished, that neither of you wanted to end. something that you had to let go but were too attached and dependent to the toxicity of the entire thing. you fucked, argued, argued while you fucked. it was a cycle that repeated itself, threats of never seeing each other again and then ending up in each other's bed with sinful moans escaping from swollen lips.

you weren't a jealous person, never been, especially towards him. you knew perfectly well he fucked other girls and pride ate you up completely before you could make a scene or something. but there was one of his hoes in particular, who made your hands tingle with the desire to beat her ass, that kept hanging around on him as if he was hers.

you fought the urge to nibble on your freshly manicured nails as you stared at that photo posted on his instagram story, their faces too close for your liking, clearly laying in his bed. so, you didn't think twice before clicking on his number, calling him. you waited one ring, two rings, and at the third he finally answered, his raspy voice saying your name slurredly.

"can you come over?" you asked shortly, getting straight to the point as you sat on the edge of your bed. chris sighed, knowing where you were going with this. "i'm busy right now, i think you know that"

"do you think i care? drop this bitch, chris, we both know you're dying to come here anyway" you huffed, not caring in the slightest that maybe you sounded too cocky. then your voice took on a more pleading tone, trying to get to him. "please, i need you. i’m not even kidding"

you could practically hear him wavering, his silence the answer you needed while you were already smiling in victory. "i'm coming. i fucking hate you" and hang up.

you then stood up, walking to the bathroom as you changed out of your underwear into his favorite thong, a smirk on your glossy lips the whole time. you had won, as always. you had confirmed that chris couldn't even resist you and your sweet voice of yours that begged him so subtly.

you didn't care if you sounded pathetic, or if you wouldn't do it for any other man anyway. you wanted him and had him again.

and then you didn't care even more as your fingers continued to pull the long curls of his hair to draw him closer to your neck, already tortured by marks and hickeys. your other hand gripping the crumpled sheets of your bed due to the inhuman rhythm of his thrusts. your moans were like music to his ears, especially after not hearing them for so long.

the tight, pink thong you had worn a few minutes before his arrival had been thrown to the floor without the slightest importance or care, like the rest of your clothes, only that one had been completely torn by chris's fucking impatient hands.

“you're such a needy slut,” he murmured through gritted teeth, one of his hands resting on your neck to keep you still. "you couldn't stand the fact that i was with someone else, huh? admit it" to those last words he added a thrust that hit right in that sweet spot, making you whimper.

“shut the fuck up” you managed to breathe out, your thighs tightening around him as you were desperate to reach your orgasm. "you didn't even - ah- didn't even hesitate to come here, didn’t you?”

he tightened his grip on your neck, lifting one of your thighs onto his shoulder with his other hand as he groaned. "fuck you" small beads of sweat had formed on his forehead at that point. “no one, no one has a pussy as fucking tight as yours” he felt like your walls were about to snap him in half, his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head. "you drive me so crazy"

your moans had increased, feeling that pressure starting to persist more and more. “admit it” you whimpered, your long nails scratching his back as your arched yours slightly in pleasure. "admit that no one is like me"

his lips had found your bare shoulder, his teeth digging and biting into the sensitive skin as he whispered and moaned shamelessly into it. "no one makes me feel like you do, ma, i would gladly die inside this pussy if i could."

and you're cumming around him the minute the words leave his lips.

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #fem reader #chris sturniolo x reader #smut #thanks for 100+#200+ !! love

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kithtaehyung · 3 months

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would u? (3tan717) | myg

3tan717 drabble #1: would u? pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | 3tan717 rating/genre: pg (18+) ; fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: you see a certain fruit-centered trend online.. and decide to test it on yoongi note: i am so so so sorry this is out on the very last day of feb but things have been absolute bananas lately! tbh i’m surprised this is even getting posted on time and i have even more to do after this is shared but eff it shibal!!! note 2: as promised, this is dedicated to the people that submitted the answers i’m using for this drabble: anon, grapes / @yoongrace, and apryl @aprylynn for this idea hehehe! also i literally just finished this so it's legit unedited so i'm sry for any mistakes! off to go prep for events now! warnings: 3tan yoongi as always, working yoongi??, kitchen, period cramps suck but yoongi to the mf rescue drop date: feb 29th, 2024, 10:03pm est word count: 2.3k

Ugh.

Why does this have to happen every fucking month. Why can’t it happen every three? Or six? Or never ever ever?

Groaning, you roll over, burying your face into the pillow on Yoongi’s side.

To some degree, you feel placated, probably due to his scent still lingering next to your dismay. He had to get up early to finish a track, but he assured you can be in the room.

You can hear a little bit of what he’s working on as it bleeds through his headphones, and even just this sliver of sound gives you chills. Not just because of what it sounds like, but the sole fact that Yoongi’s letting you even listen in the first place.

Huffing out a bit of amusement, you remember the last time Yoongi let you stay while he worked—albeit at his place while he went to the studio.

Damn, how much you’ve grown since then. All those memories, those quiet times and tumultuous times, everything leading up to now. How time has molded you with knowing hands.

However, no matter how much has changed all these months, some things have not wavered, like the fact that you needed to be sure he was okay with it—and his answer making you absurdly shy.

Did he really have to say that you’re either staying or he’s gonna leave? That scheming motherfucker!

Some drum beats hit your cheek before you realize the menace himself is playing multiple different ones. It’s only a couple hits before he moves onto the next, and you’re about to lift your hea—

“Fuck, where the hell is that kick?”

Your laugh is stifled by cotton. As tickled as you are to hear Yoongi like this, you don’t wanna do anything to distract him.

But by doing so, that causes your body to tighten and fuck, it hurts. It hurts to move, it hurts to laugh, it hurts to just exist. God, you want him to come back and join you so bad, but you don’t wanna be that person.

…Yet. Maybe if it gets so bad you can’t even sleep?

“Found you! Fucking finally. Thought you could hide from me, huh?”

Oh, fucking hell, he’s adorable.

Yeah, there’s no way you’re making him drop everything right now. This is too precious of an afternoon to stop.

Exhaling a mile long breath, you fight through your pain and feel for your phone, groaning as you shift yourself. When in position under sheets and warm sunlight, you cycle through apps as a distraction.

Scrolling. Scrolling. Smiling at some animal videos a bit before scrolling again.

After all of five minutes, you start to see a trend on your feed, and suddenly get the idea to try it on Yoongi. It’s simple and harmless, right?

You [3:30pm]: would u peel an orange for me

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, and you lift your head slightly to see if he looks at his phone.

When he does, he checks it really quick before setting it back down on his desk, back to clicking on his screen.

Ah. Damn. He must really be in the zone because…

Uhh.

Blinking, you watch as Yoongi rolls his chair out to get up, setting his glasses down and heading out of the room with a light swing of his chains.

Uh. What just happened? Did you upset him? You’re so stunned that his swift exit has you wanting to get up and follow him.

But ow. Ouch. It’s maddening how much your cramps are getting to you.

Bearing the punches to your gut, you start sliding out of the bed, straining and sucking in sharp breaths just to stand and pull Yoongi’s comforter over your tension.

Padding out the bedroom, your worries make your steps tiny and heavy, and you regret sending that text because you literally just said you weren’t… gonna…

On the dining table—quiet—lie three tangerines, peeled and placed next to vibrant scraps while your lover peels a fourth with diligent, devoted hands.

And you can’t even form words that match how you feel.

Your vision swims right as Yoongi looks your way, his body stilling before he puts the fruit down.

When he approaches with concern, you answer his silent questions through hiccups, “I—I thought you left cus—you were mad.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t even know,” you swallow, gesturing to all of your lower half and feeling him hold the slipping blanket. “It’s just… this, I guess.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Like a motherfucker.”

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, doll. Hold up.” Handing you the comforter, Yoongi goes to his cabinets in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of medicine before walking it over. “You gotta take something as soon as you feel it. Don’t let it get this bad.”

“I know,” you groan, resting your head on his shirt and inhaling his healing presence. “I didn’t wanna bother you.”

Your forehead is kissed. “You’re not bothering me. Especially with something like this.”

“Okay.”

He walks away again to grab some water, and you watch as he pours some into an electric kettle before starting it up.

Glancing back at the fruit, you sigh, clutching the bottle of pills while feeling the weight of his comforter. He’s probably not pleased with the way it might drag on the ground, so you gather it and pick the end chair to sit on.

And then you sigh, “Sorry for making you peel those. I didn’t even plan on eating anything.”

“Too bad. You’re gonna eat what I make you anyway.”

Wait, he’s cooking? He has work to do! “You’re working, though. Don’t worry about me right now.”

“It’ll be quick.”

“What are you making?”

A glass bowl and pan are procured from random places before Yoongi blinks in place. “Uhh.. You’ll see.”

As he clunks them onto his counter and stove, you watch with hearts for eyes as he bustles around the kitchen space. Even doing things as simple as washing his hands, opening his fridge, and simply grabbing a knife gives you pause.

And this is when you realize that you can watch Yoongi do absolutely anything and be amazed.

Even when he stands, watching you with a look that’s wait why doesn’t he look—

“Take the medicine, baby girl.”

Oh.

Snapping out of your trance, you nod. “Sorry.”

Yoongi continues to give you glances until you swallow down the painkillers, satisfied enough to continue his cooking venture when you take the second one.

As the sun paints the apartment in marigold and light, you keep watching with a smile as he brings the kitchen to life. Butter sizzles in a pan, tangerines are getting halved on a board, and something is getting mixed with a whisk.

Who knew that the neighborhood fuckboy would have a whisk on hand? Not the younger you, that’s for damn sure.

But here Yoongi is, in the flesh, whisking away with veiny forearms that have you thinking the most absurd thoughts during this time of the month. The only thing that would cut through the raging horniness would be getting up to see what the hell he’s making.

It’s starting to smell familiar though. But he put the tangerines in the pan so you don’t even know what to expect right now.

Walking up—blanket left behind—you observe the kitchen before peering over his broad shoulder. “Mm.. Smells like pancakes.”

Yoongi doesn’t answer, but when you see the consistency of the batter, you realize you’re correct. “Oh, it is! I’m smart.”

“You are,” he laughs. “But you didn’t get it all the way right.”

“No?”

“Nope.” Yoongi then gently gets you to move before he pours the batter over the slices, and you crane your neck to watch as he evens it all out. “Just one tangerine pancake.”

“Oh, okay,” you scoff, earning a laugh at your side. “Whatever, chef.”

“We’ll see what you say in a bit.”

Is he gonna leave it or flip it? Probably the latter.

“K. Gonna flip that once it’s done.”

Nice. You smile to yourself, loving how you’re starting to really be on the same page. Nudging him, you keep watching as he lowers the heat and sets the lid on the pan. “What now?”

“We wait,” he responds, dusting his hands together before cleaning up his mixing bowl. “And I’m gonna see if we have any sugar.”

Damn it, Yoongi cannot keep saying that two-letter word. It’s starting to be detrimental to your health. “I can help.”

“S’ok,” he assures, nose upturned. “Just watch me work.”

“Oh, I’m very good at doing that.”

At this, Yoongi turns and gives you a smile that immediately reminds you of summer, and you almost feel like crying again.

“I’ve actually never tried this, but. We’ll see if this works.”

With nothing snarky, or teasing, or fake to say, you reply with a smile and a genuine, “I’m sure it will.”

When he keeps staring, his eyes lower to your lips, and you don’t care that you probably look like a wreck, or feel like one. Because the way he’s looking at you now makes you glow.

If only the kettle didn’t decide this was the moment to stop boiling.

You were probably about to get the kiss of your life.

But Yoongi halts in his tracks before shifting to get a mug, setting it down with a thud before checking on the pancakes. Pancake. Whatever that delicious-smelling thing is gonna be.

“There’s some tea packets in that right drawer. Help yourself cus I’d rather you pick.”

Chuckling, you oblige before scooting over. After seeing a small jar of granules on the counter, you start rummaging through the drawer, exploring the various options while hearing the sound of a plate behind you.

Ah, Yoongi’s flipping it.

As you turn, you’re just in time to watch the muscles in his back protrude through his shirt as he flips the pan, impressed as he sets the plate down because holy hell that looks great.

“Sugar, sugar, sugar… Suga, suga, suga.”

Laughing, you interrupt his silly search as you grab the jar you just saw. “Suga suga, how you get so fly?”

Yoongi stops to see what’s in your hand, and he huffs through a grin before grabbing it. “Thanks, doll.”

You keep humming the song that’s now wedged into your head as you watch him sprinkle bits on the pancake.

“I don’t have a blowtorch,” he admits, “But I do have this.”

Rolling out a drawer, Yoongi takes out a long lighter before holding it to the sugary top, humming the same song you were just singing without even knowing it. As the sugar slowly but surely heats, you both keep humming and basking in a calm afternoon.

And you don’t even feel the pain anymore.

“Go ahead and sit, babe.”

“You sure?”

“Uh huh.”

Following instructions, you make your way to the table, cocooning yourself in his comforter again as you await the cutest meal you’ve had in weeks. Months. Lifetimes.

Speaking of lifetimes… You hope every version of you meets every version of him. No matter when. No matter where. Because you want every version of yourself to find happiness, and Yoongi has been the one to help you finally find it.

And he certainly passed whatever the hell this orange theory thing was supposed to be.

Plates are set down to break you out of introspection, and you glance up with eyes sparkling.

When Yoongi raises a brow, you just smile. When he asks what’s gotten into you, a chuckle escapes before you shake your head,

“Nothing, baby. Just didn’t expect all this from that text.”

As he plops into the next chair, you love the way the sun settles on his skin. Highlights his hair. Shimmers in his eyes.

“Don’t even need to ask, babe.” He captures your attention with a calm look. “I was waiting for any distractions anyways.”

So this was for him, too? Good.

Grabbing your fork, you giggle. “Sounded like you were having a little trouble over there.”

“I was! This is what I get for not saving my shit.”

Both of you sit back in laugher as you throw your hands out. “Do that!”

“I’m lazy!”

“Tough shit!”

“I know!”

Grinning, you loll your head before waving your fork out. “You’re gonna save those sounds, and you’re gonna remember this day and thank me.”

Yoongi just tightens his lips in a smile, eyes creased and glimmering. “Maybe.”

“Yes. I’ll stand there and watch you until you do it.”

"Really.."

For the rest of the afternoon—with full bellies and clear minds—you rest on the edge of Yoongi’s bed, forcing him to find the files he needs and watching him groan his way through saving everything.

Constantly laughing at the ridiculously random names he’s assigning them.

When he’s done, you watch as he spins around in his chair, heart thumping with anticipation as you’re met with a waiting pair of eyes.

Breathtaking.

When he leans in, you feel incredibly shy. Always, always, always. This will forever remain the same.

And—just as well—Yoongi's kisses will forever taste like tangerines.

Three of them, to be exact.

fin. :)

how did the first 717 drabble go! | join the discord hehe

a/n: nothing much to say other than i love y'all so much! i will try responding to anything when i can (there's literally still all the 3tan12 feedback to get to) but i do read all the commentary sent in and it keeps me going strong :'))) so thank you again for being here and being amazingly patient with me. off to work on more things but i shall be back once the wild weeks are over!

a/n 2: suga suga how you get so flyyyy hahaha

#ahhhh here we go!#3tan717d1 #3tan717 #bts fic #bts imagines #*ryenfictalk #bts reactions #bts fanfic #yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #three tangerines #yoongi fluff #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #*latest #ryenwrites #bts fluff

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

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Eddie is writing new song lyrics. Dustin discovers them on a random Saturday when they’re having pizza at Steve’s; Eddie asks Dustin to get one of his old campaign notes, and Dustin reaches for the wrong journal.

“Oh, not that one,” Eddie says with a shrug, but his eyes go a little thoughtful at the sight of it in Dustin’s hands. For some reason he pauses, and then he says, “You can still read it if you want, man.”

And Dustin stares at him, certain it’s a trick, because Eddie is notorious for ensuring that any potential Hellfire spoilers are kept under lock and key. But then he opens the book and reads.

And he gets it.

The lyrics are clever, because they hide under metaphor, apocalyptic imagery and all that stuff, but it clicks when Dustin gets to a verse about a tune echoing through a mall, ‘and it’s a song you know, you’ve known it all your life,’ and he’s suddenly thrown back to when he explained how Steve worked out the location of the Russian code, and Eddie was taking it all in, eyes as round as pennies.

Dustin sets down the notebook and says, “It’s about us.” It’s not a question.

Eddie nods. “Yeah.”

“You make it sound a lot more poetic than it actually was,” Dustin says.

But Eddie doesn’t tease back, just gives a contemplative little smile and says, “Really? I don’t think so.”

And that’s as far as they get in talking about it, because Eddie suddenly glances away, and his smile changes ever so slightly, gets softer around the edges. He turns back to Dustin and mouths, Look.

Dustin does. Steve has fallen asleep, curled up in the corner of the couch. His head is just barely resting in his hand, nodding forwards precariously every so often.

Dustin hears Eddie give an almost silent tsk, which is funny; he must have picked it up from Steve. He quietly goes over and moves Steve with a gentle touch until Steve’s head is resting comfortably against the cushions.

Steve murmurs wordlessly, eyes closed, then settles back into sleep.

Eddie catches Dustin’s eye; he mimes, Shh with a wink.

And something in the back of Dustin’s mind falls into place. …Huh.

There are days when Eddie has the journal and days when he doesn’t—he cycles through notebooks constantly, most of them having been started with a specific purpose before devolving into chaotic scribbles for anything and everything.

But this one stays consistent.

And whenever he does have the journal, he lets Dustin open it to any random page and read for as long as he likes.

It doesn’t exactly take Sherlock Holmes to figure out that a verse waxing lyrical about a protective soldier finally laying down his armour and resting is about… someone in particular.

And that makes Dustin wonder whether ‘and it’s a song you know, you’ve known it all your life’ isn’t just about a mechanical horse playing Daisy, Daisy. In fact, maybe it’s not about that at all.

He doesn’t mention anything, just says that Eddie’s writing is good when he hands the journal back over. It’s hardly a major compliment, except every time, Eddie says, “Thanks,” in an almost uncertain tone Dustin’s never heard before, like just hearing that’s really touched him.

And then one day Eddie loses the journal. Dustin doesn’t realise what’s wrong at first, just knows that Eddie is agitated, rooting around in the back of the van when Dustin sidles in for a ride home after school.

Dustin sees movement outside, and he looks up to see one of the substitute teachers who’s always got a stick up her ass standing at the school entrance. She’s holding Eddie’s journal.

“Uh, Eddie?”

“What?” Eddie snaps. Then he follows where Dustin is looking. “Oh Jesus fucking Christ.”

But he doesn’t let any of his irritation show when he hops out of the van and heads for the teacher.

Dustin knows Eddie talks a good game when it comes to sticking it to authority, all I’ll flip him the bird and so on, but there’s none of that arrogance now. Dustin can’t hear what they’re saying, but he can read the body language, the teacher’s tight-lipped smile, the way Eddie has crossed an arm over his chest self-defensively; he looks suddenly very young and unsure of himself.

The confrontation ends with the teacher handing Eddie the journal—more shoving it at him, really. Eddie gives her a curt nod before he heads back to the van, slamming the door shut as he gets inside.

He throws the journal in the back, and Dustin, who has carelessly destroyed countless textbooks, somehow finds himself saying, “Watch it, dude! You’ll rip it.”

Eddie doesn’t reply. He reverses out the parking lot and makes a turning for Dustin’s house, grinding his teeth.

The silence goes on until it’s unbearable, and Dustin tentatively asks, “What did she want?”

Eddie laughs, a nasty, thoroughly unconvincing sound. “Oh, ya know. Just returning lost property. Good fucking Samaritan.”

When he gets home, Dustin finds a note from his mom, that she’s over at his aunt’s and there’s some leftover pasta in the fridge. Dustin checks, and there’s easily enough for two.

He runs outside thankfully before Eddie has gone.

“You can’t expect me to be left in the kitchen unsupervised,” Dustin says. “I might burn it down.”

Eddie snorts. “From sticking pasta in the microwave?” Then he seems to hear himself and adds, “Yeah, somehow wouldn’t put it past you, Henderson.”

So they end up eating lasagne straight out of the dish together, playfully battling for the last slice like their forks are swords.

“What did she really want?” Dustin asks eventually. He can’t help but notice that Eddie had brought the journal in with him, keeps tapping his finger on the cover uneasily.

Eddie sighs, rubs a hand down his face. He nods down at the journal. “I’d left it in a classroom that some middle schoolers use for Drama Club. Apparently there’s some concerns about the appropriateness of—”

“That’s bullshit!” Dustin says. “Why would she even—”

“Dustin,” Eddie says very quietly. He closes his eyes. “You know why.”

And Dustin does. That’s why he’s so damn angry.

Because some of the lyrics (not all, but some), are love songs. And a good number of those are unambiguously from the point of view of a boy, speaking to another boy.

Eddie sighs again, presses a thumb into the inner corner of one eye. It looks like he’s warding off a headache. Dustin knows that he isn’t.

He could say I don’t care that you’re gay, but that doesn’t sound quite right; it isn’t about not caring, it’s about…

“You know I like you, right?” Dustin says.

Eddie gives a choked little laugh. He drops his hand, opens his eyes and says, with a faint smile, “No shit? I guessed you wouldn’t share lasagne with your mortal enemy.”

“True,” Dustin concedes. He presses on. “But I meant, like…” He bats Eddie’s hand away from the journal so he can tap it instead. “Like this. It’s all a part of you, and you’re really cool, so that means—like, it’s all cool. It makes you, you. You know?”

For a long moment, Eddie just stares at him. “You said you so many times, I don’t think it’s a word anymore,” he says, but he’s blinking a lot, and Dustin sees his lips quiver. “Um. Thanks.”

He still sounds sad which absolutely will not stand. Dustin gives him a few seconds of reprieve, before he launches at him with a karate style chopping motion.

Eddie chuckles. “You little shit!”

And they tussle until, breathlessly laughing, they’re both stretched out on the couch on their backs, side-by-side.

“You should let Steve read some,” Dustin suggests.

Eddie’s laughter trails off. “Mm,” he says, non-committal.

“I mean it!” Dustin recalls a verse he’d read only a couple of days ago, one that wasn’t dressed up in symbolism.

And you want to tell him you’re enough just like this darling, you always have been

“I don’t know,” Eddie says. “So far that stuff’s had an audience of one, and I think he might be a bit,” Eddie gestures with his thumb and forefinger, “biased. Being family and all.”

Dustin smiles, feels a proud little glow in his chest. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but I’ve seen Steve hiding love poetry books. Like he underlines that shit. It’s embarrassing.”

Eddie cackles. “Well. Some of my shit’s embarrassing so…”

Dustin claps his shoulder gravely. “I mean, I wasn’t gonna be the one to say it.”

Eddie pushes him nearly right off the couch; he pulls him back before he can fall. “Oh, fuck you.”

They’re quiet for a bit, and then Dustin suggests a movie, and when he’s putting the VHS in, he catches Eddie watching him with shiny eyes.

“Hey,” Eddie says. He smiles. “I love you.”

And God, it’s so much better hearing those words like this, with Eddie in front of him, safe and whole.

And Dustin doesn’t need to rush his reply this time. He picks up the journal and passes it to Eddie, careful of the binding.

“I love you, too,” he says, and the proud glow in his chest feels even stronger. “Now get writing, Shakespeare.”

#dustin henderson #dustin henderson fic #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #eddie munson #eddie and dustin #steve x eddie #steve harrington #steddie with dustin’s pov #pre steddie #implied steddie

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forlix · 7 months

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𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・779 / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・hyunjin x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲(𝘀)・fluff, established relationship, intentional lowercase / 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲・inspired by That ig post and my own recent visit to tokyo. happy birthday, @astraystayyh; consider this my official proposal (˘⌣˘ )♡

𝟭𝟳:𝟱𝟮 — when you slip out the hotel’s double doors, you’re stunned to find the world has gone completely dark.

just a few hours ago, you were oohing and ahhing at the colorful chaos of tokyo as the van trudged slowly along the jammed freeway. now, blue has been overtaken by obsidian, and the illuminated city sprawls beneath an invisible horizon like stars plucked from the empty sky.

“the sun sets early here, huh?” hyunjin hums as he appears at your side. his dark hair is scented and silky from his shower, his broad shoulders outlined by the denim trench coat he’s thrown over a black turtleneck—the most beautiful boy on earth, and he’s yours.

“i was j-just thinking that,” you answer through chattering teeth, and your boyfriend’s chuckle hits the air in the form of a silver cloud.

“i told you you’d need this.”

he drapes a puffer jacket around you; his arm follows, draws you near. you slot into his side perfectly.

“better?”

your eyes lock with hyunjin’s, then flicker downwards. the doormen are busy loading a luggage cart. the foyer is empty for the most part. empty enough.

“better,” you respond, moments before you lose yourself in the warm pressure of his lips.

soft hair tickles your cheeks like butterfly wings. hyunjin’s been tempted to cut it recently, complaining that it’s getting too long. you’ve been rejecting the notion vehemently, and this is one of many reasons why. your fingers skim over the base of his neck, and the air that hyunjin sucks through his teeth whistles past your parted mouth.

“cold,” he whines.

a giggle escapes your throat. “sorry.”

recently, your and hyunjin’s schedules have been clashing so awfully that you really only see each other before and after bed. both of you are well accustomed to these cycles of mutual scarcity by now; it is enough, during such times, just falling asleep to the sound of the other’s voice, or waking to kisses scattered across every inch of exposed skin and a quiet, melancholy “see you tonight, angel.”

but then, you miraculously stumble upon a free weekend that coincides with the last leg of hyunjin’s tour. he’s on the phone with staff within seconds of hearing the news; your boarding pass arrives in your inbox later that night; now, here you are, in japan on a friday night, burrowed in your boyfriend’s arms, your sights set on a tiny udon joint in the back alleys of shinjuku.

going out in public with hyunjin feels like you’re playing poker. dispatch is your opponent and the deck is always rigged. ninety-nine percent of the time, you prefer to circumvent the game entirely.

you’re all in, tonight.

“it’s a twenty-seven minute walk.” dark locks fall into hyunjin’s face as he looks at the navigation app on his phone. “is that okay?”

“you tell me. you’re the one who rehearsed for three hours today." you reach for the loose strands; tuck them behind the cuff of his ear. “maybe we should just take the subway.”

“but i wanna explore the city with you.”

“and we can, after your concerts.”

“i only have you for two days. let’s start now.”

the funny look you give him says, we have an apartment together, idiot, and he hastens to add—

“okay, i only have you here for two days. it’s different.”

that, you can’t argue with. hyunjin takes your lack of a retort as his cue to begin your journey, dragging the both of you onto the sidewalk.

“i will not be the one answering to chan when you oversleep tomorrow,” you mumble.

his hand stretches out where it rests on your shoulder, silently asking for yours. you oblige before you even process his request, your fingers sliding thoughtlessly in the spaces between his.

“deal.” hyunjin presses a swift kiss to your temple, your eye squinting shut at the contact.

if you’re being honest, you hardly remember the walk to the restaurant. all the bright lights are beautiful but get old quickly, eventually blurring into a forgettable, fluorescent mass.

what you do remember is hyunjin’s excited gasp when he recognizes the anime being advertised on a distant billboard. hyunjin’s flawless japanese as he helps an old couple with directions, and the proud smile he wears afterward (he’s been practicing). hyunjin’s fingers pulling you close by the loops of your jeans, his mouth slanting over yours for the ninth, tenth time with no justification except for you’re just so pretty. hyunjin’s hair fluttering over his eyes when he tilts his head at the camera, the resulting picture so maddeningly beautiful that it becomes your new wallpaper right away.

what you do remember from that evening, and what you would remember in every iteration of your life, is hyunjin.

(you remember the udon, too. it was very good.)

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn

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nieceeee · 6 months

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“GOOD MORNING BEST FRIEND”

W/C: 1.9k

A/N: Yes I’ve been gone. Can I explain why? Life been lifeing fr but aye what can you do but make some shhhhh shake. So we byke! I have so much to write ngl but here is the FU from this fic. It’s not much that goes on in here, some things are suggested but nothing too explicit

Pairing: bestfriend!ony x black fem reader.

That night Ony tossed and turned, his mind playing tricks on him, still reeling from the whirlwind of events that had occurred. The consistent cycle of forcing himself awake each time he felt his dreams shift to you made him physically and mentally exhausted. After several jolts from jumping up in cold sweats he gave in, knowing that it was wrong and hoping for forgiveness when he woke up. Unfortunately the only thing he woke up with was a wet stain in the crotch of his sweat pants and a horrible case of blue balls. Ony groaned to himself, dropping his head back into the pillow. I havent had a wet dream since I was fucking 13 he thought, dragging his heavy hands down his face.

He forced himself from the bed, stripping down and making his way to the bathroom to clean up the embarrassing mess. “Okay Ony, think.” He says to himself, washing away the evidence of his filthy thoughts from his body. He took a little bit more time than usual running through his morning routine, or better yet taking time to try and build up the courage to face you. Your morning routines always blended into each others but this time was so different for him. I mean it wasn't like he could tell you what happened. What the fuck would that look like? “Oh hey bestfriend, how’d you sleep? Just to let you know I heard you moan my name last night and I nutted over and over again to the sound of it. Have a great day” Ony groans again as he steps out of the shower and dries off. Ony just hoped he wouldn't make it so obvious.

“Good morning Onybunny.” You say hearing him walk into the kitchen like normal. “Hey.” He croaks, clearing his throat slightly. Your brows furrow slightly in confusion as you let out a little giggle. “You ok?” You ask him, opening the fridge to reach in for a quick breakfast. Ony averts his eyes from your bent frame, shifting his gaze down to his hands. So much for not making it awkward he thought to himself. He rolled his shoulders back to ease some of the tension. You grab a carton of vanilla Greek yogurt and some fruit out of the fridge, settling on a parfait and toast for your morning meal.

Ony took a moment to look you over as you worked your way around the room. It was like something inside of him has been awaken. A new sense of being, everything around him was like staring through a different lens. His eyes roam your body and he notices things that he never appreciated before. His brown irises took in the rise and fall of your breasts, the curve of your hips. The way your body was perfectly mapped out and he wanted to explore it all. Lost in his own thoughts, he missed your look at him. “Ony?” You call again. He shook his head slightly, pulling himself from the trance you unknowingly put him in. “Huh?” He asks. “Are you okay?” You ask him, walking up and pressing a hand to the side of his face and running it gently against his jaw. He knew this was one of your tactics for him when he would space out and his heart tugged at that thought. Ony melted into your touch, his bigger hand coming up to hold the back of your hand. He felt energy swim through his body.

“Ony, talk to me. Are you okay?” You look at him, concern morphed into your features. “Y-yeah. I’m good.” He says softly, his fingers gently caressing the back of your hand. You felt a bundle of nerves ignite in your belly as the memories from last night flood your mind, recalling those very hands doing something else in your dreams. You intake a sharp breath of air before slowly pulling your hand from his grasp. “You talking about me, look at yourself.” he teases, giving you a small smirk. You playfully roll your eyes at him, pulling your hand away. “Boy bye. I’m not checking on you no more. You play too much.” You go back to the other side of the counter and finish up your breakfast. Ony watches you carefully this time, his eyes raking over your body. He takes note of the way your jeans hug you at the waist and wrapped firmly around your hips. Your cropped tank showing a sliver of your belly.

Ony really loved your body shape. He would always say that. He loves the smoothness of your skin. Whenever you would lay up under him, he always found his fingers grazing against whatever skin was showing, whether that was your arm or the sides of your thighs as you lay together watching movies. No matter the occasion, Only always has his hands on you but it was nothing sexual. He simply loves his best friend. He never fails to compliment you and shower you with affection. You were his best friend after all. But now, thinking about last night he was imagining your body in a totally different way. And those thoughts caused him to shake his head quickly, trying to get back to reality. You quickly finished up your meal, completely oblivious to the turmoil that your bestie was going through behind you.

“So what do you think?” your voice perks up as you turn to face him. “Uh yeah.” he said, trying to scrape together the bits and pieces of what you had said. You tilt your head at him, a blank stare on your face as you watch him try to put an answer together like he always did when he zoned out on you. “Okay it's settled then. I'm shaving my head and joining the cult.” you say shrugging and sliding him his plate. Only’s head snapped back to you, “What the fuck? Wait, I didn't agree to that-” he starts but your laugh interrupts him. You doubled over, gripping your side, amused by the utter shock and confusion on his face. “That's what the fuck you get for not listening to me.” you tease. His eyes roll as he grabs the plate that you made for him and sits at the island. You enjoy your breakfast and casual conversation, continuing your morning with each other as usual.

“Okay so we are still meeting E and them for lunch later right?” you say walking towards the door, phone in hand as you close out your messages. “Yeah, they’ll send the reservation later.” Ony says meeting you at the front door. You both stood at the front door, your eyes watching him with expectancy. His brows pull together slightly. “What?” he asks. You hitch a brow at him, “You bump your head or something?” His confused expression scrunches his features more. “Since when have you ever let me walk out the door without my hug and kiss? What's up with you?” you try not to sound hurt by it but the emotion still coats your words. You and Ony have a system when you leave the house. It's been like that from day one. Fuck. he thinks. “Sorry, I’m just not in it today.” he admits to you softly. You give him a forced smile as the breath leaves you body. “Don’t worry about it. It’s all good. See you later.” you whisper before turning towards the door and gripping the nob. “Shit…wait.” Ony says before you have a chance to open the door. His heavy hands grip your wrist and turn you back to face him. You look at him, doe eyes glistening. “I’m sorry prettygirl. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night.” he says stepping close to you, his hands sliding from your wrist, up your arms and to your shoulder blade then gliding down to your lower back. Why didn't you come to me you want to ask but then your cheeks heat as you realize what he would've walked into if he did. Instead you swallow heavily, lips slightly parting as you take in how close he was to you.

Ony’s face flashes with emotion but he masks it quickly. Because he knows that you would’ve wanted him to come to you, which he did, but he couldn’t tell you. Not after the things he heard. Honestly he doesn't know if he will ever be able to sleep next to you again with everything he heard and how his body reacted to you last night. You’ve slept in the same bed on multiple occasions but there would be no explaining him waking you up with a wet stain in his bed and him standing at full attention pressed against you. Even thinking about you in his bed in one of his big t-shirts, brown legs bare against his sheets was not helping his current situation.

Pushing arousal aside, he takes a deep breath and pulls you into his arms. Your arms wrap around his neck as his tighten around your waist. He breathes in your familiar scent and it heats his body to the core. Ony buries his face into your neck, the bridge rubbing gently against your skin. Fuck she smells good. Has she always smelled this good? The way he held you close to him made you feel every sculpted muscle in his body through the cotton fabric of his t-shirt. Your breath quickens as your head gets lighter. The air in the room seemed to shift, thick with an intensity that wasn't present before. Ony, pull back his head was screaming at him. That familiar heat surging through his body. He reluctantly loosens his grip, lifting his head from your shoulders. His eyes find yours as you glance up at his face. “Ony,” you whisper, his name coasting from your lips. “Yeah, prettygirl.” he lets out. Your chests are touching and his arms still wrap around your waist. “W-we gotta go.” you explain. “Right.” he starts, letting his hands slip down your waist and off your sides. “Sorry.” he says, eyes still fixed on yours. You take a step back to offer yourself room to breathe. The air was heavy with anxiousness, neither of you sure of what to do next and unsure as to why the other was uncertain. Thoughts plaguing your mind if he actually heard you last night calling out to him makes your cheeks heat. Ony being tormented by the sound of you calling out to him over and over as you pleasured yourself and wondering why he didn't walk in and coax more sounds out of you.

After another deep breath to calm your senses, you finally manage to break the staring contest. You take a small step back releasing your breath as you do so. “Well…” you start. “I’ll see you there?” He stared down at you as he ran his tongue across his bottom lip. The action sent a tingle running through your spine. “Yeah, I got to grab something so I’ll be there in a little bit.” You give him a small nod and walk out the door. Ony’s eyes trail after you as he follows the movements of your hips. He waits until you’re in the car and pulled out forces driveway before he walks back towards his room, dropping his bag and keys by the door. He locks his room door before heading back towards his shower to get another release.

Don’t ask me how I feel I swear I don’t know. I feel like I lost my mojo but I’m getting it back. Anyway hope yall like this one.

#aot x reader #aot x y/n #fem!reader #aot fluff #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon fluff #aot onyankopon #ony x reader #ony x black reader #onyankapon #onyankopon x reader #aot x you #aot fic

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shiplessoceans · 1 month

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I was baffled by this plot direction with Eddie same as you fam...

But I'm also SO intrigued.

Remember how this season started? WIth Christopher two-timing girls from school and Eddie being like "Oh no who did he get this from?"

Chris is emulating his father.

He got this from Eddie.

Not because he thinks his dad is a cheater, but because Eddie has set an example of how relationships with women work.

In Christophers early childhood his dad was always away and his mum was sad and struggling to cope. Then his dad returned and his mum suddenly left. Then his dad brings his mum back as a Christmas gift and bam, suddenly they're a family now. Not a family again, because they never been a family unit before. Everything should be perfect and yet something still feels off.

We know that while Eddie is ready to settle into married life, Shannon is not.

I personally think that when Shannon turned Eddie down, she did it because she knows that if not for Christopher being born, her and Eddie would never have stayed together. That while they love each other and Chris, they were never IN love and she wanted them both to have a chance at happiness.

Actually, come to think of it.... Holy shit... I don't think Eddie has ever BEEN in love.

Not that we've seen anyway!

He married Shannon because she got pregnant and every relationship he's had since then has been an exercise in Eddie trying to cram a new woman into his life and make her fit, only to panic, retreat or self sabotage when she doesn't. Or worse, when she DOES fit and he realises he doesn't love her.

Christopher has grown up and been there for all of this, and it's informing how he handles relationships with girls. As though they are interchangeable. As a means to fit someone into your life and make them your partner rather than find someone you actually like and who makes you happy.

I don't think this it's a coincidence we are where we are now at this point in the show. We've been building to this all season and it needs to happen because otherwise Eddie is going to keep repeating the same pattern over and over and over again for the rest of his life.

Going for 'safe' people he feels like will fill a hole in his heart while never allowing himself to fall in love so that he can never be hurt when they leave or he loses them.

He doesn't love Marisol. He wasn't in love with any of them. I think he loved Shannon but mostly because she was the mother of his child.

Eddie cheating is just another way this cycle is manifesting itself and once again he's going for a woman not because he's interested in who she is or getting to know her...but because she looks like Shannon.

Thinking maybe he can fix the mistakes of the past and be a different version of himself. This version of Shannon won't leave him and he won't abandon her. This one will stick around and yeah he won't love her but it will fix everything and they'll be a family right?

Eddie may not even be consciously aware that he's doing this.

Eddie needs to blow his life up and break this cycle.

Buck was a sex addict because he couldn't deal with his own self worth issues.

Eddie is a serial monogamist who can't let himself fall in love with anyone for fear of being hurt.

Interesting how their arcs mirror each other huh?

#trust the writers #trust the process #let the story unfold #enjoy the ride #it's gonna get bumpy yall #911 abc #911 spoilers #911 season 7 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #ryan guzman #911 on abc #911 speculation #911 reaction #911 7x07 #buddie #buck/eddie

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letstalkaboutshtufff · 3 months

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Not Weak

Highschool Gojo x reader classmate

Pairing: Gojo x reader (this can be seen as romantic or platonic since I didn’t really specify. I do like platonic friendship stories a lot tho)

Summary: You are trying your very hardest to catch up to your classmates and not get left behind.

Warnings: language, mentions of a little blood, fainting kinda

Hope you guys enjoy!

*************************************************

Pathetic. There was really no other way to put it. Truly and utterly pathetic was what you were. All this training and yet you could barely summon any energy.

At this rate you’d only be able to defeat a raccoon.

“Ugh why can’t I do it…” you slump down on the tree, the target in front of you barely scratched.

You were a first year like your classmates, Gojo, Geto and Shoko but for some reason they were all improving and you were still stuck in the same place like a fly in mud. Your family had a technique, ice manipulation (excuse me while I make things up) but for some reason you were the only person who wasn’t an instant prodigy. It was extremely discouraging, especially when Gojo and Geto were so strong already.

“Hey snowflake, you’re getting better, almost felt a little chill there for a second”

“Gojo… did you come here just to make fun of me?”

“Aw cmon I wouldn’t do that, just wanted to see what you were up to, you weren’t at breakfast.”

“Just training… I’m close to a breakthrough I can feel it”

“Well do us all a favor and figure it out soon because this heat has been killing me- would love a personal air conditioner”

“You threw a rock aimed at his head which of course bounced off thanks to his new trick, infinity.”

“Rude” you just rolled your eyes and moved to stand again, ready to try again.

“Satoru stop picking on y/n” Geto emerged from the trees.

“Huh? I’m not picking on her, if anything she’s bullying me!”

“Yeah like that’s believable…” Shoko popped out behind Geto. Cigarette hanging from her lips.

“Great you’re all here…” you mumbled. Now you can all witness my patheticness…

“We didn’t see you all day, we got worried” shoko ever the sweet one looked at you concerned.

“Well I’m fine” you said with a bit more bite than you meant to.

“Ooh someone’s in a mood”

“Leave her alone Gojo she’s working hard unlike you”

“Why you little-“

“It’s not exactly a lie though is it”

“You to suguru?!? I thought you guys were my friends!”

During their little scuffle you snuck away. Your mind on one thing and one thing only. Getting your damn technique to work.

Once you were far enough away you positioned yourself towards a large boulder.

Ok breathe in

Breathe out

Focus

You raised your hand towards the boulder.

Focus

Prickles travelled up your arm towards your hand.

Ok now build the energy in the palm

Hold it

Don’t lose it come on!

Focus!

You trembled trying to control the energy

“FUCK” you felt your body jerk heavily and the energy disappear completely, like it did every damn time before you could even send it out.

You doubled over breathing heavily.

Why?! Why couldn’t you do it!? Were you always going to be this weak??? No, no you couldn’t… if you did they’d leave you behind… you couldn’t be left behind….

Again. You had to try again.

“Ok, focus” you repeated this cycle about a hundred more times or so it felt. It was nighttime but you were still at it.

Just……one……more…..time…..

“Urgh” you collapsed onto your hands and knees. Blood droplets coated the grass. You coughed a few more times before continuing your ritual.

Again… one more time…

But this time when you rose you stumbled and fell again.

Pathetic. Come you useless sorcerer get up. Every bone in your body was screaming but you ignored it completely and rose once more.

Focus

Foc-

Suddenly your target boulder blurred and you felt yourself tipping to the side.

“Woah hey, you ok?” Gojo…. What was he doing here. And most importantly why couldn’t you speak.

He held you upright and leaned down to look at your face,

“You look like hell…” his eyes gleamed in the darkness, appraising your sorry state.

“Mmfine” you slurred unconvincing.

“Hm yeah sure you are…” Gojo said sarcastically.

“Come on, let’s go find Shoko.”

“I don’t nee-“ your world spin again and gojo gripped you tighter so you wouldn’t fall.

“You were saying?” He raised an amused brow.

You sighed, there wasn’t really much training you could do when you couldn’t stand…

You nodded half heartedly in Gojos direction. You tried taking a step and stumbled,

“Alright stubborn Bambi up we go”

Ah!?

“Gojo I can walk, let me down!” His long legs easily carried you both across the training field in record time.

“Stop moving or I’ll drop you geez”

“Gojo-“you sighed in defeat. Hating yourself even more for getting dizzy again and being forced to lean your head on his chest.

“Don’t wake shoko… just need sleep…” you whispered but you knew he heard it”

He looked down at you and thought for a moment.

“Uh you sure? You were coughing up blood you know…”

“Mm sure…” you mumbled already halfway to lala land. For trash like him, he sure did smell good…

“Ok fine but in the morning you should at least let her-….aaaaand you’re asleep.” He sighed, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest. He frowned a bit at your state. He knew you were trying but some people just weren’t cut out for this line of work. He wasn’t trying to be mean or anything, it was just the truth…

He knew you wouldn’t take that well if he told you that though. Ugh why did things have to be so complicated!?!

****************************************************

The next morning you felt like a hundred bricks were weighing you down.

You groaned as you tried to sit up. Every single part of you ached.

You vaguely remembered last night with Gojo. Heat rose shamefully to your cheeks. How embarrassing it was that he had to carry you and to top it off you fell asleep on him!? How were you going to face him ugh…

It took about a hour for pain meds to kick in enough for you to shower, change and promptly make your way to the training grounds again. You would make sure this time though you wouldn’t push yourself to the point of collapsing.

Ten minutes later you were in front of the same boulder in the same position.

Familiar pinprickles soon formed in your palm

Focus…

Foc-

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Fuck

Your concentration was abruptly broken by the unmistakable voice of your midnight savior.

“training duh” you said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Are you really that eager to fall into my arms again?”

You rolled your eyes and turned towards him,

“That was… well I guess I should be thanking you… sorry for the trouble last night…” you mumbled scratching the back of your neck.

“Mm I’d believe you expect for the fact that you seem eager to repeat last nights fiasco.”

“I’m fine now… I’ll know when I should stop…”

That was a lie, you both knew it.

You turned back to your target hoping that Gojo would leave you alone.

Palm raised up

Focus

Just a bit more…

Almost there…

Ah! Your body jerked like it did every freakin time and you let out a labored breath.

Gojo watched silently from the sidelines

You tried a few more times, your breathing and now coughing getting worse and worse each breath.

Finally when he felt you truly were at your limit again he decided to stop you.

Your eyes widened in surprise at the hand clutching your wrist because honestly you thought he had left awhile ago.

“What ….are you ….doing…?” You asked between heavy breaths.

“You’re gonna pass out if you keep going”

“I won’t… I’m ok really, just a few more then I’ll stop…”

“Yeah no, that’s not happening,”

“Let go, seriously it’s fine, I need to train-“

“When did you become more stubborn than me huh?” You tried pulling but he wouldn’t budge.

“If I let go are you gonna stop?”

“…… yes”

“You’re a horrible liar” he deadpanned.

“Ugh just quit it Gojo! Don’t you have better things to do than babysit me?? Can’t you see I’m trying to train over here??” You were starting to get really annoyed now.

“….” Should he say it? Should he say that maybe you weren’t cut out for this life? That maybe you should quit trying? Could he say it? It would break you he knew but better a broken you than a dead one….

You saw the change in his eyes and gulped suddenly uneasy, “what…?”

“Maybe…. Maybe it’s time to stop…” in his defense, he really was thinking about what’s best for you.

But you on the other hand…

Your eyes were wide as saucers. His words echoed like a deadly bell that sealed your worst nightmare. He said only a few words but you understood the deeper meaning behind them in an instant.

Weak

Pathetic

Useless

He and everyone else knew it

And now you were going to be left behind.

Against your will tears beagn to burn in your eyes.

“Y-You-“ but the words choked in your throat.

“I w-won’t” you whispered, hot tears now streaming down your cheeks while you yanked your hand away from him and he finally let you.

He looked at you with a face you hated more than anything, pity…

“Stop it….” You felt your emotions start to rise.

“Stop looking at me like that! I will get strong! I won’t stop! I can’t stop! So don’t you of all people tell me to stop!”

“Ok, listen I’m sorry, just calm down alright,” he held his hands up trying to calm you but it just make you angrier.

“No- I won’t calm down! You don’t get to come here and tell me I’m weak when I’ve been trying my hardest to get stronger! Not everyone is a prodigy like you Gojo!! But mark my words I’m going to kick your ass one day and make you regret ever underestimating me!!”

“I’m not trying to call you weak-“

“JUST SHUT UP ALREADY, CANT YOU YOU’RE ONLY MAKING THINGS WORSE! JUST GO ALREADY!”

“Y/n-”

“NO-ENOUGH! IM NOT WEAK! IM NOT WEAK IM NOT WEAK!!”

“CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH”

Both you and Gojo froze, eyes wide at the sudden noise. Slowly your heads turned simultaneously to the left where your hand was outstretched, towards the boulder- sorry correction- the pile of very teeny tiny rubble.

Wha??

“Gojo….”

“Y/n….”

You both slowly turned around to each other

Then promptly burst into excited smiles and loud laughter.

“I did it!!!”

“You did it!!!”

“I did it!!!!”

You jumped onto each other hugging and jumping up and down like children.

“See I told you I could do it!!!”

“You did didn’t you!?!!”

“I’m gonna be strong Gojo!! I will!!”

“You’ll be kicking my ass in no time!!”

You both were laughing like crazy people

*******

“Uhhh…. What the hell did we just walk in to….” -Shoko

“I’m not sure I even wanna know….”-Geto

- How I imagine them hugging lol

****************************************************

Hope you guys enjoyed! This was just a quick thing I wrote, was in the mood for some friendship fluff.

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kquil · 1 year

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SIRIUS BLACK | 01:27 ⏤HIS FAVOURITE NEIGHBOUR

SUM : because of his ambition for music, sirius drives many of his neighbours to near madness until they eventually move away and then you move in...

G. : modern au ; muggle au ; rising rockstar sirius ; rising rockstar marauders ; neighbours au ; fluff

LENGTH : 0.8k

Sirius has gone through his fair share of neighbours and he can’t blame them; in his pursuit of music with the Marauders, his electric guitar has helped drive them away sooner than their contract ends. He has yet to maintain any pleasant interactions with his neighbours, all of the ones he’s had have been decent at first meeting but that’s usually when he’s greeted to welcome them into their new home, simple pleasantries. It’s a few days into living beside him that complaints start.

It doesn’t bother him too much, seeing as they never stay long enough or were pleasant enough to be around for Sirius to befriend them but it was still a shame.

And once again, the cycle restarts.

“Oh hey,” Sirius greets with his usual boyish grin, devilish and delinquent, “so you’re going to be my new neighbour, huh?”

“Yup,” you smile, setting down some of your final few boxes to outstretch a hand, “I’m (Y/N), it’s nice to meet you…”

Sirius shakes your hand with a smile, “Sirius Black at your service,” he brings your knuckles to his lips and winks playfully as you giggle, “nice to meet you too,” he greets, disguising his internal grimace with some light humour; the thought that you may not be as sweet to him in just a few days from now brings a sour taste to his mouth. It’s a shame, because you’re super cute.

“Sirius…” you try saying his name with a growing smile on your face, “like the star?” Sirius nods with a shrug as you smile, “Cool name,”

“Thanks,” just as you’re about to pick up your boxes again, Sirius breaks the ice, “listen, I just wanted to warn you about something,” he uncharacteristically rubs the back of his neck with a hand, looking troubled as you raise a brow.

“What is it?”

“I’m a guitarist, I play the electric guitar, actually,” you smile, originally cautious but already understanding where he was going, “so I would play often and it gets loud, just some fair warning,”

“I see, thank you for letting me know,” you nod thankfully, smiling and pick up your boxes again.

“I’ll play only at reasonable times, I promise,”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you nod thankfully to him once more and go about moving in your things again, leaving Sirius to flash a bitter smile before making his way into his own home. You’re pleasant now but he’s sure you won’t stay sweet and adorable for long, you wouldn’t be the first…

Weeks pass and not a single complaint.

Sirius was ecstatic. Not a single fucking complaint! You’re a saint, always greeting him with your usual smile whenever you two catch each other and he gushes about you endlessly to the boys.

“She hasn’t complained once!” Sirius sighs with relief and connects his guitar to the amplifier, lowering the volume just slightly; he’s willing to be more courteous since you’re so understanding and pleasant, “what an angel,” he says more to himself than the boys as they share a look between one another.

“This’ll be the first time we’re practicing together though,” James reminds him as they settle behind their instruments, “this will definitely test her understanding,” he chuckles as Sirius bites his lip nervously. You were so perfect, he doesn’t want to see you go now. Not only do you not seem to mind the music but you’ve treated him to home baked goods every saturday too and he doesn’t want it to ever end; your cookies are unbeatable!

“Come on guys…” he starts but is cut off by James practicing his part of the drums, Remus soon joining him on bass with a sympathetic smile and Peter follows with the keyboard.

Muscle memory persuades Sirius to eventually join, playing only a few minutes more before he’s stopping everyone and forcefully lowering the volumes on Remus’s amplifier, on Peter’s keyboard and warning James to ease up on the drums or so help him…

“Alright alright, jeez, I just wanted to make sure this girl was the right one….” he pouts like a scolded child and the group continues to play with considerably lowered volumes. It was so far reduced that they were easily interrupted by a loud banging on the wall you shared with Sirius.

As soon as they stop, they hear you shout through, “TURN THAT SHIT UP! THIS IS MY TYPE’A MUSIC!”

Everyone laughs, Sirius with the most relief, throwing his head back and they all make the proper adjustments.

“Lucky,” Peter sighs with a pout, “I wish my neighbours were like her,”

“Don’t we all?” Remus agrees with a nod.

“Looks like she’s as perfect as you said, Pads,” James teases.

“You should try her cookies,” Sirius winks, “they’re to die for,”

“Lucky bastard,” someone whispers and Sirius just laughs.

PART TWO

A/N : i love rockstar sirius but what was his life like before all the fame? and then this timestamp came to be! i hope you enjoyed the reads, lovelies!

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins ; @astonishment ; @until-i-found-you ; @goodoldfashionedluvergirl ; @tiensmamains

NAVI.

#☆ : timestamp #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black fic #sirius black x reader #sirius black fluff #sirius black x you #sirius black imagine #marauders #marauders fic #rockstar sirius black #sirius black fanfiction

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wtftarot · 2 months

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PAC: The World

We've come full circle and it's about fuckin time, right? Time for the end. The World is harmony and the end of a cycle. She is that moment when you remember that you are the universe, you are One with everything and you feel it in your bones. It is recognizing your place as a human on this planet. The World is an ending, the inevitable conclusion but he is also the herald of a new beginning. What do they want to tell you? Let's fuck around and find out

As always this reading is for entertainment purposes ONLY and is not a substitute for professional advice in any capacity. Remember, use common sense and don't be a dumbass.

Four groups today, you can pick The Bird (eagle?), The Lion, The Person, or The Bull and head on to your reading.

The Bird/Eagle

The Nine of Cups and The Nine of Wands on the bottom of the deck.

This is fuckin gorgeous for y'all. The cycle that's ending for y'all is one where y'all had to fight tooth and nail for everything you wanted. I'm seeing the end of the Lord of the Rings, where the eagles fly Frodo and Sam out of Mordor after they destroy the Ring. I don't remember if Frodo actually says it, but I'm hearing him say "It's done". Y'all have been dealing with a rough ass cycle, huh? For it to show up as the One Ring? There may be one last battle of sorts? Like a boss battle. This is my nerd group (affectionate), I'm getting a lot of fantasy imagery. Think of it as one last challenge so you can truly close this cycle once and for all. For some of y'all, this cycle has been a long and very internal one. Something that's been weighing you down, that you're finally letting fall from your shoulders. What I'm seeing is that this 'boss battle" is a choice of sorts. You've been growing and figuring your way out of this cycle and all at once you're faced with a choice. This cycle has been more internal and you may have not seen much externally about it. It's like this choice embodies the cycle externally and you have a physical/material choice to make. Continue this cycle? Or Step forward with growth? And it will be that clear to you. Again with the imagery, I'm seeing a game screen with a choice. This path is unknown, keep going? Press X: Keep going. Press Y: Turn Around. Listen, I'm not much of a gamer like at all, so I don't know if that's a thing that happens in games? The last game I played was like three years ago?? So, the fact I keep getting gaming imagery means I'm really tapped into some of y'all's guides. Ok, the guide that's doing a lot of this is practically screaming in my ear to yell at y'all TO PAY ATTENTION TO YOUR DREAMS. FOR FUCKS SAKE. If you're into gaming and have been playing a game that's set in the woods, that message goes double. Don't ask me, I just work here. Now the cycle y'all are stepping into? Fucking beautiful, ok? Y'all are gonna be getting a lot of shit you have been wishing and crossing your fingers for. I'm hearing/seeing "yes, those too" and imagery of a belt and other accessories? This group is loud and I love it. Yea, even the "little things" you've wanted that aren't high on the priority list will be coming your way soon. And y'all are going to be rightfully smug about it. I think some of the blessings coming your way were things that people around you have tried to dismiss or downplay or talk you out of, so yeah you can be a lil bit smug about it. You've earned it. The past lil bit for y'all has probably felt very stale and stagnant but now that it's closing, things are going to be moving and improving. It may jolt y'all a bit at first. Cause this energy is so fucking different from where you've been, that even just dipping your toes in it will be a shock. It will be a welcome shock though, refreshing. The way this will manifest will be different for all y'all, but one thing's for sure, y'all are gonna fuckin run with it. After that initial choice, falling into this new chapter will be the easiest thing in the world.

random ass vibes: video games, d&d, 999, leaning into a new clothing style, fish, moon cycles, someone have a moon tattoo? birthday cake, HAPPY BIRTHDAY?

The Lion

The Moon and The Tower on the bottom of the deck.

Ok, you need to take a break. Full stop. Even if it's just ten minutes of sitting in nothing and silence. Your brain needs a rest from everything. I feel like y'all need to be told that yes, this thing does need to end. The cycle you're in may have become your comfort zone and you feel safe repeating it cause you know what to expect. It does have to end though. Y'all may have some idea that this ending is coming but you don't know just how much things will change when it does. This may be about a belief about the world or yourself that's really holding you back. Once clarity comes, you won't fit in the same places, with the same groups you used to. I don't blame you for resisting this, it can be terrifying to start questioning belief systems or old worldviews. Some of y'all may be questioning the religion or politics you were brought up in. It could be an understanding of who you are vs who others want you to be. Y'all are feeling a bit overwhelmed and confused as to what all this means. Sweetie, that's okay. This IS confusing and overwhelming. It is hard and scary and can leave you feeling very vulnerable. Babe, you need to stop pushing yourselves to have all the answers already. This one takes time and it's okay to let it. That's probably why the message I got for y'all before I even pulled the cards was for y'all to take a break. Not only that, but you don't have to tell anyone about this. Yes, if you can find some safe support through these periods of life do it, but you don't owe anyone what you're going through. Y'all are putting soo much pressure on yourselves to know everything already, to have all the answers. To know every aspect of who you are and what you believe. Wanna know something terrifyingly liberating? You never will. You will never know every single aspect of yourself cause you're always growing and changing. Same with your beliefs, you're always learning new things about how the world works, so your beliefs will always be shifting, even slightly. This is all coming from The World card cause y'all, more than anything need to let yourselves just BE. Be in the moment, stop interrogating them as if all the answers will be found there. The answers you're seeking will come in time and letting yourself live. I know the world we live in pretty much demands you have everything figured out at all times but that's bullshit. It's okay to change your mind.

random ass vibes: small-town vibes, doves or white birds, 919, the goth kid at the family reunion, lightning, trees, dragons, red clothes. nature vs nurture.

The Person

The Sun and The Hermit Rx on the bottom of the deck

Y'all it's time to come out of hiding. You've been hiding your truth for a WHILE. lol I'm hearing that lil Sunday school song: "Don't hide your light under a bushel, NO!" ( I grew up in the bible-belt, don't judge). That's a song for little kids if y'all don't know it, you don't have to look it up. It's telling me though that y'all have been hiding your light, so to speak, since you were a little, little kid. Like four-ish years old. Now, I don't know y'all's situation, it may not be safe for y'all to be fully yourself, and cause it seems like y'all have been hiding your whole damn life that's probably the case. So, BE FUCKING SAFE, okay? Because you're at this reading though, there are probably some ways you're hiding yourself that you don't have to. It's like y'all have just been letting people decide who you are when you're around them? Y'all are wearing other's projections of you like masks. I'm hearing "too much". Ooh boy, y'all listen, this group feels like I'm talking to my younger self. I cannot tell y'all the number of times I was told I was "too much", too loud, too quiet, too stubborn, too whatever. Unless y'all are being too cruel, too bigoted or whatever, y'all have a place here okay? Y'all seem to have taken being told you're too X, or not Y enough to heart and have whittled yourself down piece by piece cause that's what the people around you want. Y'all are like the fucking sun and everyone is demanding you be a candle. I think it's people you care about telling you this too. And because you care about them, you want them to be happy and comfortable. So, of course, you can be a little smaller, whatever they need, right? Now though, you've been doing this so long, you've lost yourself a bit, haven't you? The World is telling you it's time to call those parts of yourself back. Dig up those parts of yourself that you've buried. You can start as small as you feel you need to. It may be hard and confusing at first but soon it will be as natural as breathing. If you're not even sure where to start or have forgotten those parts, ask your guides and the universe for help. Ask for signs and to be put in situations that bring out those buried parts of you. You may have outgrown some of them and that's okay. Just prepare yourself, it won't be easy. Ya know that tingling feeling when your leg has been asleep and it's waking up? I feel that even though my leg has been fine this whole time. So it will probably be uncomfortable too. You should probably expect some hard reactions from the people around you too, especially if they've only known you as the you you've pretended to be for them. But that home you've been looking for? Felt calling? That can only be built by you being your authentic self. Otherwise, it'll just be another place where you have to wear a mask to be welcome. I wish I could end this one on a lighter note for y'all. This isn't an easy one. Take some alone time and please, take care of yourself through this. Whether you realize it or not, you are working through something really difficult and need to go easy on yourself through this.

random ass vibes: Halloween, candy, ghosts, 11:11, turtles, alligators, Frankenstein's monster, Venus, halos or angels?

The Bull

The Page of Pentacles and the Eight of Swords with the Empress on the back of the deck.

Y'all have so much fuckin potential, okay? Y'all are doubting yourselves so fuckin hard and The Universe and your Guides are sick of it. We all know someone who's amazingly talented but is so fuckin hard on themselves about it, to the point where you just want to grab em by the shoulders and shake them screaming YOU ARE WONDERFUL AND TALENTED. That's how your guides are feeling about you, all the damn time. I'm serious. I was only taking One card and the bottom of the deck for each group but the Eight of Swords came out too for y'all. Y'all are stuck in your head, questioning your every goddamn move and wondering why you're exhausted and never seem to move forward. This reading's tone is much more direct, like fed up snap the fuck out of its energy. Not that your guides are fed up with you, just fed up with your self-doubting bullshit. I'm hearing "..but they'll think I'm x" So, you may feel like if you truly lean into your potential and fail, people will have shit to say. Sweetie, they will and they will if you succeed and they will if you never do jack-shit. One of the few guarantees in life is that people will talk shit no matter what you do. The only control you have is why they're talking shit. Would you rather them talk shit about you cause you went after what you want, win or lose? Or because you never went after what you wanted, which is exactly what they wanted. The cycle that needs to end for you is one you have to end. End the cycle of shitting on yourself just cause you may not be where you want to be. End the doubt of your own capabilities. You really have NO CLUE how fucking amazing your life will get the second you start questioning those shitty thoughts. Like just questioning them, not even fully disbelieving them yet. Just questioning them will do fuckin wonders for you. If you're a beginner let yourself BE a beginner. If you want to try something new but are afraid of being a beginner then say fuck it and fuck you to those thoughts and start anyway. Hell, you don't have to tell anyone you're starting at first. You have the potential to be a whole-ass fuckin meadow and are doubting and even criticizing yourself for having to start as a handful of seeds. This is you're pep talk, in case you haven't figured that out yet. One other thing, some of y'all may be fearing the work that'll come with believing yourself, that it'll be tiring and all that. It's gonna be the opposite, sweetie. I mean, yeah it'll be work. But it's gonna be energizing. Do you know how much energy you've been hemorrhaging by shoving down allllllll that potential constantly? All of that will be freed up in a second and spent on fun shit. I believe in ya, babe.

Random ass vibes: thrifting, rainbows, makeup, cinnamon, puppets, purple, birds, card games, heart tattoos.

#tarot reading #tarot #divination #tarot community #tarot cards #pick a card #pac reading #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pick a picture #wtftarot #pick a photo #tarot readings #pac

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etherial-moon-blog · 5 months

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Tease

Paring: Adult!Ao'nung x Adult!MetkayinaReader

Na’vi dictionary: Sa’nu-mother, Metkayina- reef clan, ‘itan- son, ma‘ite- daughter, mawey-calm, kuru- neural queue

Summary: Reader gets her final tattoo signifying the end of her rites and her acceptance into the clan as an adult and is flirted with by Ao'nung along the way.

Word count: 1k

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, slight mention of needles

A/N: was bullied by @xylianasblog to post this

All characters depicted in this fic at 18+ minors dni | divider by @/cafekitsune

To say you were nervous would be an understatement, you were downright anxious. Today was the day that you’d be getting your final tattoo. This tattoo would signify your place among the Metkayina, and signal that you were eligible to find a mate in the upcoming mating cycle.

You nervously chewed on your bottom lip as you paced around your marui, anxiously awaiting your escort.

“Mawey, maite, you’re going to walk a hole into the floor.” Your mother remarks, not looking up from her weaving.

“I’m sorry sa’nu, I’m just nervous is all.” You say as you stop your pacing.

Your mother's face softens as she watches you, you hadn’t been nervous about all your previous tattoos but this one had been giving you a lot of anxiety recently. Wordlessly, she sets her weaving aside and gently pats her thigh.

You shuffle over to her and plop down, laying your head on her thigh. She begins humming and gently runs her fingers through your hair. “I know you’re nervous maite, this was the tattoo your father was supposed to give you. I know we both miss him dearly but your sempul would be proud of the woman you are today, just as I am.

You sit up and hug your mother, smiling as you do. She returns the embrace, holding you as close to her as she can. The two of you bask in your embrace and only pull away once you hear someone clear their throat. You and your mother turn to find Ao’nung standing at the entrance of your marui.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt but my mom is ready for you now,” Ao’nung says.

You and your mother stand, and she gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before pushing you in Ao’nung’s direction. As you walk out you hear your mother's voice call behind you. “Make sure you two get there on time please, I’m too young to be a grandma!”

A deep purple blush blooms across your face and you grab Ao’nung’s arm as you speed up to get away from your marui quickly. Once you two are far enough away, Ao’nung chuckles.

“Grandchildren huh? Never knew you liked me like that (y/n).” Your face burns hotter and you hit him in the arm.

“Because I don’t! My mom doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” You say frantically. You were not helping your case with how frantically you were denying her words.

Ao'nung only smirks in response to your flustered attempts to deny your crush. In one swift motion, he grabs your hand and pulls you by your waist so that your chest is pressed firmly against him. Leaning down, he presses your foreheads together, his lips barely touching yours.

“That’s a shame then, I was hoping I’d finally get to make you mine this mating cycle.” His voice has dropped an octave and the blush that was once leaving your face comes back in full force.

“But..” He drops his hands from your body and steps away from you, leaving you breathless and missing his touch. “..since you don’t like me, I guess there’s no need to try.” You shudder and release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in.

Did you hear what he said correctly? He wanted you to be his mate? No, he was probably just teasing you like he always did. He had known for a while that you had a crush on him. Tsireya had accidentally let the details of your feelings for him slip during dinner one night, the traitor.

Quickly coming back to your senses, you punch him in the arm. “Don’t do that! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” He only chuckles in response and begins to walk ahead of you once again. You let out a sigh and followed him, silently hoping that his words held some truth.

As you follow behind him, your thoughts are so consumed by what he said earlier that you don’t notice him suddenly stopping and you run directly into his back. He turns to face you, a smirk pulling at the edges of his lips.

“If you wanted to be close to me, all you had to do was ask. I’d be more than happy to get close to you.” Your face burns for the nth time that morning but before you can retaliate, a figure pushes aside the opening of the pod and steps outside. As Ronal’s gaze moved between you and her son, you couldn’t help but straighten yourself reflexively. Authority and beauty radiated from her in waves and you couldn’t help but stand in awe of her no matter how many times you’ve seen and interacted with her.

“You were almost late ‘itan. Next time take care to get here on time. Now your father needs your help with warrior training. Go now. And do not be late.” As she spoke her eyes never left yours. You barely heard what she said but as soon as she began walking into the pod you followed after her, sparing a glance back at Ao'nung before fully following her inside.

As you entered the pod you glanced around, glimpsing at all the different herbs and jars collected around the room. As you looked around, you heard Ronal clear her throat and turn towards her. She was sitting down on a pillow and gestured beside her to a similar pillow. Taking a seat, you were once again subject to the intensity of her gaze.

After what felt like an eternity she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them once more. “Lay down, Eywa shall guide my hand to bestow upon you the mark of our people. With this tattoo, you will finally become one of the people.” With surprisingly gentle hands, she guides you to lay flat on your stomach. She gently brushes your hair and kuru aside and runs a warm reassuring hand from the base of your neck to the base of your spine.

Shuffling is heard behind you but as you move to turn your head, Ronal’s hand comes out and pushes your shoulders down gently. “You must stay still. My hand must be steady for Eywa’s guidance to flow through me.” You re-adjust yourself so that your head is resting on your folded arms. ‘Are you ready my child?” You nod, and let out a small breath as the needle touches your skin….

Taglist: @melllinaa @fev0ir @iaratezaewa @zaddyskye69 @kasai-https @darktyrantwinner @doctorswife221b @atxxokirina @iameatingmyhair @thepineapplesimp @lo707 @lyra997 @shadydreamlanddetective @atokirina-writings @plooto

#avatar #atwow #avatar way of water #reader insert #aonung #aonung x reader

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longhardtransitionreturns · 5 months

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I've always had this fantasy of not knowing I was pregnant, getting on a flight, and then having a really difficult birth on a plane while all the other passengers listen to my screams.

I spend the day leading up to my flight dealing with stomach cramps but figure they're either from the dodgy kebab I had at the pub or it's my period finally showing up. I've never been regular but it's been quite a while since I've had one so this could be the start of a really bad cycle.

I'm excited to wear my new jumpsuit, which is basically a one piece sweat suit that zips up the front. I'm meeting my partner when I land so I put on a tiny black lace thong and the matching bra and set off for the airport.

Wrangling my luggage while my stomach keeps clenching so hard it takes my breath away is difficult but I finally make it through security. I'm taking a break, rubbing my aching belly, when a pregnant woman passing grabs my shoulder and gives me a sympathetic smile.

"It hurts when they get rowdy, huh? Seems like they know when you're about to fly."

My cheeks turn red. I know I've been gaining weight but I didn't realize I looked pregnant!

I feel like it's rude to tell her that I'm not with child and actually just have to take a massive shit so I smile and mumble what I hope sounds like a sympathetic noise.

After unsuccessfully trying to go to the bathroom, I finally board my flight. I'm grateful to be in first class because it's suddenly really painful to sit any other way but with my legs spread wide.

I try to sleep, especially because I hate flying over the water and the first 6 hours of this flight are over the Atlantic. But not only does the pain in my stomach stop me from sleeping, it drives me from my seat every ten minutes to go strain on the toilet. I'm starting to freak out a little; I've never felt pain like this and for the first time I start to get scared something is really wrong.

Eventually even the engine noise can't mute the groans coming from the tiny plane bathroom. When I stumble out for my 10th time in 2 hours, the flight attendant is waiting with an annoyed looking man in a stained Metallica sweatshirt.

She stops me with a wary smile. "Honey, I think we need to get you checked out. This is John, he's an EMT. He's the only medical professional on board but he agreed to take a look."

John looks hungover or maybe still drunk and his agreement had to have been reluctant but he sits down with me in an empty last row of seats and starts asking questions about my symptoms. When I tell him I haven't had a period for almost a year but the pain feels a bit like period cramps, his eyes go wide as saucers.

"Uh, ma'am, I think I'm gonna need to check your vagina. I think you might be in labor."

I've had enough. This is the second time today someone has thought I'm pregnant! I get up and brush roughly past John and start making my way back up to my seat, hopefully to sleep.

I barely make it to the middle of the plane before the worst pain yet clinches my belly and I feel an undeniable weight plop painfully into my pelvis. It drops me to my knees and I'm suddelny howling in agony, much to the horror of my fellow passengers.

I don't even have time to think before I feel a pop and fluid gushes out of my twat, soaking my panties and jumpsuit. I feel just a second of relief before the pressure is back, worse than I've ever felt, and I know with sudden horrifying clarity that the weight is that of a baby moving down my birth canal.

"There's a baby in my pussy and I need to push!"

John and the flight attendant are immediately at my side, pulling me painfully to my feet. Before I really even know what's happening I'm in the galley in the back of the plane with John unzipping my jumpsuit and peeling my soaked thong down my legs. They lay me spread eagle on the floor and he sticks his fingers up me.

I'm pretty out of it from the pain and shock but over the next ten minutes I gather I'm seven centimeters dilated, it's three hours until we land whether we turn around or keep going, and I'm probably going to have to crown a baby lying on a dirty floor underneath the drawer where they keep the diet Coke and little bottles of liquor.

I can't really focus on anything but the pain, which now includes long, searing stabs through my back as well as my front. The pressure is insane. I never imagined birth would feel like my hips are going to dislocate because the baby passing through them is so big. I hear John say things like "back labor" and "posterior" and, worryingly, "very narrow pelvis" but by that point I am in transition and shaking and puking and pleading for someone to let me die it hurts so bad.

I learned later, through a TikTok video a fellow passenger posted that got four million likes, that I crowned for thirty minutes. The guy who posted the video made a time lapse and edited my screams for help and death over it. He even got a cheeky shot of my bruised, bleeding pussy stretched around the head at the widest point.

When it finally pops out, I pray my ordeal is almost over. But, no matter how hard John pulls or I push, the shoulders are jammed tight in my opening. I spend the final half hour of the flight with a massive head hanging out of me while I drift in and out of consciousness.

I remember how bad it hurt for that head to be jostled when the plane landed and it was agony to be lifted on to the stretcher, my legs carefully held wide to accommodate the head hanging between them. I remember being horrified most of the passengers were filming me being wheeled up the aisle, legs open, screaming about the pain in my pussy every time we hit a bump.

It wasn't until hours later, my 14lb son in my arms and the good drugs masking the horror of what they had to do to me down there to finally get him all the way out, that I realized the creative folks on the internet had turned my birth from hell into a trending TikTok song.

I never really found the humor in putting me screaming "I've got a baby in my pussy and I need to push" and "Oh my God, my clitoris just ripped" to music. Especially since all I got was a kid I didn't want and a lifetime fear of both birth and flying.

#birth kink #labor and delivery #maesiophilia #preggo kink #painful birth #giving birth #birth

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ackermonie · 2 years

Text

im coming here again with some more soft-ish gojo

i feel like satoru wouldn’t be the self-conscious in a relationship. i feel like he’d completely trust you, because if he didn’t, he really wouldn’t just risk it all and be with you this way.

you’d trust him too. it would obviously take time, given his infamous reputation, but you would.

so gojo isn’t really bothered at first when you start to be a little more closed off than usual with him. be it when you just simply smile after he kisses you, or when he tries to start a conversation and your replies would just be a bunch of ‘ah’s and ‘mhm’s, if ther are any at all, but the consistency of it begins to get on his nerves.

you barely saw one another throughout that week. he’s busy, you’re busy, you only get to see eachother at nighttime and occasionally he’d get a glimpse of you in the morning before you leave for the day, despite that he always has been first to get out of bed while you sulk behind.

his petty ass starts to give you back the same attitude a a couple of days afterwards, and it pissed him off further when it looked like you didn’t even notice.

the cycle continues for a few more days, and satoru gets even more petty as the seconds go on because why the fuck are you treating him like that for no reason?? it’s not like you to keep shit bottled up without communication if he fucks something up, so he gets to be pissed all he wants.

what he doesn’t notice tho, is your fucked up sleep cycle, or lack thereof. he doesn’t spend the days with you to notice just how little your food intake is, and he only notices the dark circles under your eyes when it was too late.

you were leaning on the bathroom counter when he walks in. your eyes are squeezed shut, and gojo wasn’t aware someone can look so pale.

he freezes at the door frame for a few seconds, watching as you shake your head and bend down to splash some cold water on your face, but your hand slips.

you didnt even get the chance to get close to the tiled floor. a hand is secure around your waist while the other pushes at your chest until your back was flush against a solid figure, and you don’t understand why fight suddenly left your body as you turned into putty in gojo’s hands.

“satoru,” you try to call.

he slips a hand under your knees and slips you up bridal style, your head falling to his chest limply. there was a second of wooshing air before you feel the softness of your mattress underneath you.

“stupid, stupid,” gojo mumbles to himself. a hand slips to your face, and he delivers little tap-taps to your cheek. “hey, sweets. open your eyes up for me, huh?”

“i just…” you attempt a grab at his forearm. “give me a few seconds.”

“okay, okay, yeah.” satoru gives your body a do-over in a spiral of uncharacteristic panic. you’re not visibly hurt anywhere except for the light bruises on your calf, but that doesn’t calm down his nerves. “better be only a few seconds before i call shoko right fucking now.”

“don’t call anyone,” your eyes are still closed when you grab a clutch of the material of bis shirt. your voice is breathy yet choked. “i’m gonna be fine. just—“

he teleports away before you can finish your sentence, and your hand is suddenly grasping on air. you sigh out, letting your forearm fall to your forehead instead as you try to regulate your breathing, but you feel another woosh of air before a voice is booming in the room.

Gojo dumps the plastic wraps in his hand by your side and puts the glass of water he got on the nightstand.

“i got you sugar. you look like you need sugar. you look like you need plenty, actually.” he rambles and you feel yourself being pulled in a sitting position where your head perfectly falls to the crook of his neck.

right then, you both feel the world go silent.

you haven’t been in each other’s arms in some time. satoru is dumbfounded as he looks down at your face from his position, and he sees that your eyes are no longer squeezed shut. the peace on your features calms him down just a bit, and he has no other choice but to let go of the candy wrappers and wrap his arms around you.

“i’m just overworked.” you whisper a bit too weakly for gojo’s liking. he rests his cheek on the top of your head. “i’m fine.”

“you’re not fine,” he mumbles, shifting his position so he can be even closer to you. “you barely have any color in your cheeks.” he looks down at you when he feels your head shift, only to find a very fucking exhausted gaze looking up at him.

and he’s stupid. he’s fucking stupid for acting petty without communicating the way you always ask him to do. you are feather light in his arms, as a consequence, the way your cheeks are hollow make him loosen his grip on you because you do be looking very breakable.

“i’m sorry it took me so long to notice,” he tells you, and you can’t help yourself when a hand slips to his nape, and you pull yourself up enough to plant a kiss to his cheek. “i’m dumb. i thought you were mad at me.”

“i would’ve told you, ‘toru,” you tug him down to the mattress with you. instead of the other way around, the over-grown sorcerer’s head lands on your chest as you slip a hand in his hair. “let’s just nap a bit more before we head out, mhm?”

“head out? your ass isn’t leaving this damn bed until i put some fucking food in you.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

more?

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moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

Also would love more of the art student x stem student peter writing,, again totally just self indulgent here but I adore their dynamic I could go on forever, like study dates but she’s working and Peter hangs around revising notes in her studio and they both just accompany each other AGHHH I could think about them for ages

-🍁🤭

Thanks lovely!

tasm!Peter Parker x artist!reader ♡ 727 words

Your hand comes into view, taking Peter’s attention from his notes for the first time in hours as you slide a paper plate stacked with pizza slices towards him.

“They were out of stir fry,” you say, “but they let me take extra pizza since they felt bad.”

Peter blinks, realizing his eyes are dry and achy. “When did you get this?”

“Just now,” you say, though it sounds like a question. Your brows twitch towards each other, somewhere between bemused and concerned. “Pete, I’ve been gone for like a half hour. You didn’t notice?”

Peter blinks again, hard. He gives his head a little shake. “No, I, uh…I guess I was too distracted. Thanks for the pizza.”

“Course.” You kiss the top of his head as you round the table, sitting down across from him with a couple slices of your own. Peter watches as you zone back into your work, a pensive frown coming to your face. You’re in the beginning stages of a new project, and the last few hours have been a frustrating cycle of erasing, sketching, and erasing again. Peter doesn’t get how you can even see through all the faded, half-removed lines on your page.

“How’s it going?” he asks, tentative.

Your frown worsens. “Not bad,” you say, in a tone that says not great, either. “I’ve landed on an idea, but it just…it doesn’t feel perfect. I don’t want to start and then have to change my mind again.”

“Didn’t you say that’s how it usually goes?” he prompts.

“Yeah,” you sigh, and you sound so upset about it that Peter has to—just has to—reach across the table and take your hand. You offer him a small smile and return the squeeze he gives your fingers.

“Want a break?” he asks you, and you raise your eyebrows.

“I just took my break,” you remind him.

It’s difficult to love someone and see them treat themselves how you treat yourself. Peter would count a run to the dining hall as a break, too, but he doesn’t like it when you do it. Still, that doesn’t give him a lot of ground for argument.

“Then can I see?” he tries, hoping talking it through will make you feel better.

You chew your lip for a second before nodding, going to slide your paper towards him.

“Nope, hold on.” Peter stands up on his seat, stepping one gangly leg and then the other over the table before lowering himself into the chair beside you. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, hugging you so that your face is squished against his bicep. “Better,” he says. “Go on.”

You laugh at his over-the-top affection, but don’t move away, going into the details of your original idea versus what you’ve come up with on paper. The abstract always falls short of the concrete, Peter knows that, and yet he feels your disappointment in your inability to fulfill the full scope of your vision acutely. You grow more animated as you talk, eventually bringing the paper closer and sketching while he watches. Peter suggests his own solutions as you work. They’re useless of course, but he knows that having a sounding board helps you think, so he’ll keep the conversation going any way he can. To your credit, you don’t tell him all the ways he’s wrong. You only hmm and huh and then do your idea anyway.

After a while, you come up with something you’re happier with. It’s still not perfect, but Peter reminds you again of your own tenets; that it never will be, and your only job is to do the best you can with what you have. You’re smiling by now, so it’s a win in his book.

“You gonna talk me through your biochem notes now?” you ask him cheerily.

“Aw, sweetheart.” He kisses the side of your head. “You’re a gem for offering, but we both know you’ll get a headache.”

“I’ll eat my pizza while you talk,” you propose, picking up a now cold slice of your dinner. “C’mon, it’s only fair.”

Peter grins at you, your face lined with tiredness and hand stained with silver pencil lead but eyes alight with that fizzy energy you get from creation. “Okay,” he concedes. “But when we go home, we’re watching the most mindless show we can find on TV.”

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eternal-kosmo-ghoul · 6 months

Text

*°:⋆ₓₒ day 17. overstimulation

.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡ “give you more”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — ❤︎ you decided to be extra generous to zephyr, and assist him when he’s in dire need of some love and affection

pairing: zephyr ghoul x afab!reader

a/n: chair 😈 this is just pussy-drunk zephyr and kinda self indulgent 😫

cw: nsfw content. overstimulation. oral sex (f receiving). needy zephyr. heat cycle. cum eating

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“more… more.. give me more. i need more of you, of your body.” —❤︎

┅✦┅

the heat catalyzing off of a certain air ghoul filled the room with a needy, promiscuous scent. if any infernal were to get one whiff of this lustrous aroma, they’d find their ghoulish instincts running haywire, and the need to stick their dick into something very high.

zephyr’s heat came around earlier than usual, which was weird because ghouls’ heat cycles are always expected to arrive sometime in the spring. he found this rather inconvenient, and annoying, especially on the season of yule too, one of his favorite holidays to celebrate. the air ghoul was not about to go to his packmates to help him, as he didn’t want to accidentally trigger their instincts too (and he knew for sure that ifrit was going to make fun of him ‘till time itself died).

so zephyr chose the next best option.

he was embarrassed to approach you with this problem, but he knew you as a sibling of sin that was skilled in helping ghouls manage their heat cycles. you’ve been studying demonology for a while now, and you also happened to be a doctor. so your knowledge on demon instinct and anatomy has proved useful in many cases.

when zephyr came to you with his pleas, you were more than happy to help. taking him to the infirmary to inspect him and observe his behaviors, you recorded everything you saw. you were in a good mood from all of the nice christmas cheers, and took your job seriously as you examined zephyr, determining that his heat cycle was indeed a bit of a pickle to deal with.

however.. you were feeling extra generous. zephyr didn’t have a mate to relieve his urges with, and you would feel bad if you turned the poor ghoul away with some cheap medicine and a doctor’s note.

so that’s how you ended up in this situation. your body draped over a hospital bed with your pants and underwear completely discarded of. zephyr was in between your legs, his strong arms hooked around your thighs and letting out pleasured, animalistic groans as he lapped at your aching, wet sex. that’s right, you offered yourself to him, that way he could take as much as he want from you to satisfy that carnal drive within his mind.

after all, there was no medication or pill that could put instinct at bay.

“mmmh fuck.. so good.. you taste so good.” zephyr moaned, already getting drunk off of your taste. his long, forked tongue swiped over his lips, before he growled and went back down to lick up your glistening cunt, all while you moaned and leaned back against the bed.

“h-hnngh… fuck.. yeah that’s good. you’re feeling extra touchy.. huh?” you rasped out, smirking as you allowed for zephyr to suck on your sensitive folds while you took everything.

“must be your first time with a human, eh?” you insinuated, and zephyr nodded eagerly before going for a spot that had your legs quivering.

“o-ooh shit! i’ll take that as a yes..”

“mmmh.”

zephyr hummed mindlessly, delved too deep into the taste of your pussy to even care about what you were saying. you tasted so insanely good. it was a succulent, sweet taste that was natural to the core. he had no idea that humans could taste this good, it drove his instincts to overdrive and he wanted more.

more. give him more.

his snake-like tongue tickled your folds, and caught between your clit. this was enough to make you let out a shrill cry of pleasure and cum right there. zephyr ate it all up, but he wasn’t done. he just kept on eating you out while you rode out your orgasm, making you gasp and let out pleasured cries as his tongue abused your overstimulated cunt.

“more… more.. give me more. i need more of you, of your body.” he whispered in a needy manner, going back down on your sopping cunt while you let out blissed out moans from how good zephyr was eating your pussy.

it’s clear his instincts weren’t gonna make him stop anytime soon. but that’s okay,

you were willing to just sit here and take it, offering your body like a secret garden to zephyr.

“take it. take everything you want, zephyr.” you demanded, letting out soft, sexy moans as he sucked on your clit harder.

“my body is yours tonight.”

that invitation made a growl of satisfaction rumble from zephyr’s throat, coupled with the needy whines and whimpers that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body as he kept tongue-fucking you relentlessly.

orgasm after orgasm came crashing down on you. he just wouldn’t stop sucking on your cunt, and he was relishing each drop of your cum and slick juices as he did so. your entire nether regions and inner thighs were soaked in your own fluids and zephyr’s saliva. you weren’t sure how much more you had in you, because each climax was just another wave of exertion that crashed onto your body.

it was so arousing, but it was getting to the point of being too much. still, the feeling was so damn addicting.

“f-fuck zephyr.. i don’t know how much- ahh more i can take— mmh!” you whined pathetically, legs jolting as zephyr lapped at your sex.

“mmmh one more.. just give me one more please.” zephyr begged, almost like he was in pain. he really wanted you now, he wanted to see it happen.

how could you resist that?

allowing him to, zephyr went down on you one last time— being sure to make this release count. your moans were practically screams of pleasured pain, grasping at zephyr’s hair while he ate you out like a starving man.

he was being quick and precise about it. using his tongue and lips to swipe up every crevice and nerve within you, determined to draw out a powerful orgasm from you. his instincts were at an all time high now, desperate for this.

he was so good at this, and you were close.

“zephyr— zephyr fuck! i-i’m gonna cum!” you warned for what seemed like the hundredth time. zephyr just groaned and latched his lips around your folds as you came everywhere, just suckling on your clit as you came around his face.

you slumped against the bed with a heavy sigh, body still experiencing aftershocks and jolts from how many times you came. that was an experience… and it was certainly an enjoyable one to say the least.

you brought your head up to look down at zephyr. it’s clear his heat cycle was calming down now. his eyes weren’t a glowing red hue anymore, and his body looked relatively calm.

“how are you feeling now, zephyr?” you asked, not even assessing your own condition. the air ghoul looked up at you and nodded.

“good.” he replied, smiling a bit at you. he crawled onto the bed next to you, and gently caressed your stomach, being sure to be careful with your delicate body.

“what about you?” he asked, his ghoulish eyes almost glittering with innocence.

you smiled back.

“good.”

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#holiday hoes event #ghost bc #ghost fanfiction #zephyr ghoul #zephyr smut #zephyr x reader #ghost era 3 #era 3 ghouls #nameless ghoul smut #nameless ghouls x reader #christmas prompts #christmas #the band ghost x reader #smutty drabble

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