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#something about how he loved the version of her in his mind more than the real abby and she never gets to be her own person
seeingivy · 5 hours
Text
espresso
actor!ryomen sukuna x f!reader
**part of my dream girl fic
previous part linked here
songs mentioned: love is embarassing by olivia rodrigo (based on this npr tiny desk) and espresso by sabrina carpenter (based on this performance)
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[eren]: like how irritated are you on a scale of one to ten? 
[mikasa]: ONE THOUSAND 
[eren]: i wasn’t asking you… 
[stacy, publicist]: ET team is asking for a comment on bad blood. let me know if there’s anything you want to say 
[megumi]: yuuji called me cute? but then he took it back, but it kind of seemed like he was too shy to be saying it in the first place? idk….
[megumi]: honest to god, do you think he thinks i'm cute? 
[leah]: call the parents when you get a chance! same old same old :/ 
you silence the ringer on your phone, before turning to your right, where your producer, will, musters the peachiest smile he can produce. and you can tell from the nervousness in his demeanor that he’s a little too cowardly to ask the question on his mind, unlike eren. 
you can appreciate that about him. that there’s some type of scarcity he holds in every interaction he has with you – like he’s intentionally picking out everything he says to you, in an effort to be careful. 
“you know how these types of things go. do you think i’ll get the first spot?” you ask. 
will doesn’t respond immediately - which gives you your answer – as you slump against his plush green couch, while his daughter ellie tasks herself with tangling in between your legs. 
ellie is will’s two year toddler with beautiful long eyelashes and a tiny button nose. you had met her when she was barely six months old and an expressive little bundle of blankets, when you first signed on as one of his new artists at dancing lady. 
you were still debating it at the time, deciding to go the singer-songwriter route and picking dancing lady over real sun. and while you were heavily leading towards the former over the latter, due to the lack of former victoria’s secrets models wandering around, it was will’s normalness that sold you entirely. 
do you mind if my daughter is here sometimes? i just got divorced and well…sometimes it’s kind of hard to find childcare…or afford it. 
it reminded you of your own parents, dragging you and leah to the side room of the clinic or leaving you in the spare classrooms on weekdays when you were a kid. and though those days are long gone, the feeling still remains. 
sometimes it still feels like you’re chasing that – trying to hold everything you’ve acquired desperately close to you, just because you know it can slip out of your fingers the second you look away. more specifically, what it feels like to feels like to have nothing. 
you were more than happy to oblige will’s request – and well, ellie was adorable. 
it was an added bonus that there was a familiarity that will exuded – and it was wholly comforting in the littered sea of plastic that you always seemed to be floating in. 
“three exclusive versions will boost their sales considerably.” will states, his tone miserable. 
you sigh, before reaching for your phone and scrolling the notifications away. and while it’s in entirely bad taste – scrolling through twitter was one of the worst vices you had. reading the think pieces, the timelines of all of your bad blood (you thought the timeline was a little bit on the nose), and worst of all – the hate comments that seemed to litter your feed. 
“you could always do the same thing.” he offers. 
“absolutely not. i’m a no remix, no features, and no multiple versions artist. it feels a little tasteless doing something like that just for a number one spot. i don’t want my fans to drop fifteen dollars just to hear exclusive versions of my songs when they’ve already paid for the original.” you state. 
“and you don’t want thing one and thing two to know that you’ve gotten under their skin.” will adds. 
as much as you cared about getting the number one spot – because deep down, you really did – letting kim know that she had settled under your skin and caused an irritation, for a second time now, was far worse than occupying a lower spot. 
deep down, it was really about getting your flowers. that’s what it all meant to you – the awards, the charts, and the fans – nitpicking each parts of your songs, getting to watch your life on display and then get to revel in your thoughts about it. 
it was the one place that you got to control the narrative. because while no one is there at the after parties or the award shows, or even in the room with you or on the date, what you get to put out there is the closest to that. 
and the second it’s out there, it stops being yours. and starts being everyone elses. it’s freeing that way – packing it into a neat box and dropping it on people’s doorsteps. 
you give up. there were always more songs. 
“yeah. that too.” you respond. 
will gives you a nod, before swinging back in his chair to mix the backing tracks on his laptop, as you turn your attention to ellie and place your hands in her dark brown hair. the braid that you did earlier is entirely messed up now, no thanks to the fact that she spent the last hour of recording running around to her heart’s desire. 
you give her a smile, tapping on the tops of your thighs and gesturing for her to jump up, as you comb through the tangled knots with your fingers, before fixing her soft hair back into the little flower hair tie you had placed in her hair earlier. 
“i’d love to take a flamethrower to the next awards show. melt some plastic while i’m ahead.” will mumbles, which earns him a hearty laugh from you. 
“and i’d help you free willy.” 
you press a kiss to ellie’s hairline before tapping the top of her head to signal you were done. and she gives you a giggly smile back before she returns to her usual shenanigans, by climbing under the glass table and sticking her feet up on the metal. 
“you’re so gross. don’t call me that.” will groans. 
you give him a smile instead. 
“how was studio eleven anyways?” he asks. 
“good. i got to see megumi after a really long time and historia was great. oh, and this god awful idiot tried to hit on me.” 
you’d be lying if you said you had stopped thinking about ryomen sukuna after you met him two days ago. that there was something intriguing about him, that you couldn’t exactly put your finger on – that led to you thinking about him far too much. 
all in all, there was one thing that you prided yourself on and it was being resourceful. being knowledgeable, taking the time to learn more, and keeping yourself informed. it was what kickstarted your career, being able to watch people and learn the sleight of hands, and more importantly, apply them. 
it’s how you got picked out of the group by fame as old as time – the lynch family. because it was one thing to be a pretty face, to have talent, but being able to sniff out the star and pick the needle out of the haystack – it wasn’t something that could be taught. and it’s something that you learned, at age eleven, fast. 
the entire income of your household depended on it. and that tends to foster some type of ambition. 
and while you’re no longer associated with the lynch family, having now run as far from them as you can, the ability holds. and in moments like this, it even turned out to be useful – being so resourceful. 
megumi, very lovingly so, called it stalking. and well, sometimes that’s exactly what it was. and in the two days you had to spare, you had learned almost anything and everything you could have about ryomen sukuna. 
he owns a coffee shop in los angeles, called play coffee, that he’s been working at since he was sixteen. and he offered to become the main investor after they almost went down under. he also loves to joke about how they almost fired him for how shit he was at making matcha lattes. 
he’s had a long and complicated history but there’s some pull that he has that keeps him around. because dating your manager, getting caught with weed at fifteen, and an anticipatory slander campaign – it would be enough to ruin someone else. or at the very least, kick them down. 
but not him. 
his fans speculate that he has twelve tattoos, his most popular being of the tarot card, the hanging man (which you then subsequently googled). upright, meaning sacrifice, release, and martyrdom. and reversed meaning stalling, needless sacrifice, and fear of sacrifice. 
his most recent release – as patrick zweig in challengers, which you rushed to watch with embarrassing speed (and consequently, got fan edits for that you can’t help but watch – is suspected to get him shortlisted for a selling star award, which is just one stop away from him winning an institute award next. 
all and all, he was on the come up. with the hit movie and now the expected hit show, one thing was clear to you. 
that sukuna was the one to look out for. mainly because there was something electric about watching him on the screen. because the way he moves, speaks, and walks on the screen – there’s something so mesmerizing about it that you can’t help but tear yourself away. 
“did you entertain it?” will asks. 
“no. he started off by blatantly lying.” 
will scoffs. 
“was he cute at least?” 
you roll your eyes. 
that was the understatement of the century. 
“shut up, will.” 
and the acidic tone in your voice is enough to pique will’s attention, as he now swirls around in the chair, and gives you the most irritating and accusatory smile he can muster. 
“i said shut up.” you repeat. 
“i literally didn’t say a single word.” 
“but you thought it. i can tell.” you bite back. 
“you’re a child.” will responds. 
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sukuna wastes no time in arriving to the performance at the npr offices. and it works out considerably well – with your giggling fans questioning his presence and asking for pictures, accompanied by a blind item that he sent in to one of the biggest twitter accounts himself. 
[sukuna]: so what did megumi say? 
[yuuji]: IDK HE LIKE KIND OF LOOKED AWAY WHEN I CALLED HIM CUTE BEFORE I STARTED BACKTRACKING 
[sukuna]: …
[sukuna]: about y/n dipshit 
[yuuji]: WORD WORD 
[yuuji]: she is single. not talking to anyone yet. he kind of made it seem like she’s not that upset about her breakup tho? if that makes sense 
[yuuji]: apparently, she almost never is? not in a heartless type of way though, just in a…i’m not gonna let a man get me down type of way 
[yuuji]: that sounded more corny when i typed it that way…
[yuuji]: he said she just knows her worth. that’s all. 
sukuna hopes he’s worth a shot. 
it’s an entire somersault in his stomach when he sees you walk out, a lilac purple guitar in your hands that you set down, before giving an excited smile to the fans cheering for you at his side, blowing spare kisses to the people in the front. 
it’s hard not to stare full on. though he supposes for his purposes, that’s the exact type of thing he should be doing. and the plethora of information that he learned in the free time he had in the past two days swims in his head. 
you like silver jewelry and not gold. the ring on your middle finger is one that a fan gifted you in lisbon and you got your cartilage pierced at a tattoo parlor after taking one of your last finals in college. 
you took a few classes here and there at new york university – poetry, screenwriting, and women in politics. you were born and raised in new york, having started your singing career at the ripe age of sixteen before you were scouted at twenty. 
“hi guys! i’m y/n – i’m so flattered that npr invited me here to sing a few songs for you. it’s so cool to be here with all of you guys and kind of show you some of the new stuff i’ve been working on and play some old ones while i’m ahead. but yeah –” 
sukuna watches as you pause, making eye contact with him for the first time before you pick up the guitar and swing the strap over your shoulder. 
sukuna pretends that it doesn’t make his heart swell up in hope, that his presence was enough to warrant a pause from you.
“well, right. this first song is a new one that i’ve been working on for quite some time. it’s one of my recent favorites, i wrote it around a month ago after i went to this stupid afterparty from one of the events that my studio was holding and it’s about some of the company i’ve kept. it’s called love is embarrassing.” you state. 
I told my friends you were the one After I'd known you, like, a month And then, you kissed some girl from high school And I stayed in bed for, like, a week When you said space was what you need Waited by my phone like a goddamn fool
sukuna quickly realizes that there’s something about singing that does it for you. because your entire demeanor changes. you relax your shoulders from the tense position they’re usually in, swing your hips to the beat of the song, and make very expressive facial expressions that in his two days of research he hasn’t seen otherwise.
And now, it don't mean a thing God, love's fuckin' embarrassing Just watch as I crucify myself For some weird second string Loser who's not worth mentioning My God, love's embarrassing as hell 
and in the twenty minutes that follow your half and hour performance, he’s able to convince the body guards that he knows you – after providing an autograph, of course – and then knocks on the door of your dressing room before walking straight in. 
sukuna can tell that it startles you at first, as he walks in to find your wide eyes, before you visibly relax at the sight of him. and he delights in the smile that spreads across your face as you lean back in the chair as he takes his rightful spot behind you, placing his hands on the sidebars of your chair and leaning forward. 
“princess bubblegum. you again. to what do i owe the pleasure?” you ask. 
“figured i’d stop by, marceline. i’m a huge fan.” 
you smile back at sukuna through the mirror, biting down on the side of your cheek, as you reach for your lipgloss and toy with the cap in your shaky fingers. 
“you weren’t even singing along.” you state. 
“two of those songs were new. and i’m learning.” sukuna clarifies. 
you grin. 
“you’re doing your homework.” 
“i’m somewhat of an overachiever.” 
you push out of your chair, turning around to rest against the back of the vanity as you reach for one of the purple candies on your desk and pop it into the side of your cheek. 
“i’m guessing you didn’t harass my team, my social media managers, and two of my friends for tickets for nothing. you want something.” you state. 
“perceptive. are you always like this, dove?” sukuna asks. 
“does that bother you? it’s something you’ll have to get used to.” you ask. 
“quite the contrary. i enjoy a challenge.” 
you hum, twisting the plastic in your fingers. 
“really. what do you want?” 
sukuna nods, before crossing the way and leaning against the edge of your vanity at your side. 
“i think that you and i could be really useful to each other. i know that your song is about to get blocked by kim and her bullshit and well…” 
“your show is about to get tanked by whatever it is she has coming next.” you finish. 
sukuna grins. 
“you know about my show? have you been stalking me?” 
you feel your cheeks burn.
“because of megumi, sweetheart. nothing more nothing less.” 
sukuna feels his chest pang slightly, from the embarrassment. because of course you know about the show from megumi. 
“right, well. seriously. kim and aimee aren’t the biggest fans of you. and well, it would really piss them off if you started dating me, even if it was just for looks. what they don’t know won’t hurt them.” 
you sigh, pushing off the edge of your chair, as you stand close to him. and you’re able to smell it again, the minty musk, as you give him a smile. 
“i appreciate the offer. but, i’m not interested in getting tangled up with them again.” 
“they started it already. you don’t want to bite back?” sukuna goads. 
“i’m not the type.” you respond. 
sukuna pauses. 
“from what i’ve seen, i don’t necessarily think that's true.” 
“have you got me all figured out, sukuna?” you ask. 
he loves the way his mouth rolls off your tongue and the accusatory tone in your voice when you say it. you’re trying to get him to take the bait, like the two of you are playing a game. 
and he leans closer, smiling down at you as he wraps he cups your cheek with his left hand, before pinching at your cheek. 
“i’m almost positive that i do.” he responds. 
and he’s quick with it, reaching forward and tucking the stray strands of your hair behind your ear, before basically teleporting to the door. 
“either way, you know where to find me if you change your mind.” he states, before slamming the door shut behind him. 
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“okay, so like why haven’t you just…asked him out yet?” you ask. 
you watch as megumi spits the majority of the shot he just downed back into the glass, before slamming it down and leaning forward on the table. 
“are you insane?” 
“i think you might be. i mean, he’s literally flirting with you in these texts.” you respond. 
you scroll through the chat again – noting the cute 0.5 picture of yuuji as the profile picture – earning you a glare from megumi before he snatches the phone back. you give him a pointed look, before shrugging and lifting your own glass to your lips. 
“i just…get really nervous.” he stutters. 
“well, i can give you a few pointers. first things first, when he tries to kiss you, don’t dodge him. and when you do actually muster up the courage, don’t bite him by accident.” 
meugmi shoots you a glare and you can’t help but smirk at him. 
there’s nothing as special as a first boyfriend. the novelty of it all – holding hands in between classes, texting the night before to plan a hug at dismissal, and in your case, having things tumble down when he starts sobbing after you kiss for the first time. 
“hey. are…are you crying?” 
you were positive that you did it right. the seven videos that you had watched the night prior and the excessive consulting from leah was exactly what you put into practice. closing your eyes, leaning forward, and pressing your lips against his. but you’re not sure what exactly happened, because two seconds later there was bright red blood coming out of your lips and an incessant amount of apologies coming out of megumi’s mouth. 
but after you had reassured him that it was perfectly fine and that it was an accident, there was something still lingering in the air. because in the few seconds that followed when you tried to initiate it again, megumi dodged it all together and nearly flopped on to the pavement as he put his head in his hands. 
there was something awkward about the entire thing. that weird pit in your stomach, the way your skin seemed to course in embarrassment at the fact that he didn’t really seem to enjoy it, and the metallic taste still lingering on your slightly swollen lip. 
“are you okay, megumi?” you ask. 
“yeah. yeah, i’m sorry. we can do it again.” 
you frown. 
“we don’t have to.” 
“do you want to?” he asks. 
you take him in fully – eyes wide and skin pale – as you reach forward, placing one of his hands on your shoulder. 
“well, not if you’re going to look at me all weird after. you’re kind of freaking me out, megs.” 
he sighs, before nervously rubbing his fingertips against his palms, as he gives you a shaky nod. it’s only then that you note that the scabs on his knuckles have barely peeled, an indication that he’s been picking at them. and really, an insinuation that something is bothering him. 
“i won’t stop being your friend if we don’t date anymore.” you clarify. 
megumi gives you a halfhearted smile. 
“well, that’s just because you don’t have other friends.” he mumbles. 
you snort, before shoving him in the side. 
“asshole.” 
“bitch.” 
and you’re not sure what it is, maybe the fact that the joke has broken the ice a little bit, but he leans forward, his hands shaking as he peers his steely blue eyes into yours. 
“y/n. can i please tell you a secret?” he whispers. 
“okay.” 
he pauses. 
“i don’t like you.” 
you pinch your llps in a line. 
“charming.” 
he shakes his head, almost like he’s frustrated. 
“i mean. i don’t think i could like you.” 
“wow. keep it coming, fushiguro.” 
he glares in response. 
“you know, you could try letting me finish.” megumi deadpans. 
“the opportunity was just too good. but really, do finish.” 
megumi bites at the sides of his lips, before taking a deep breath. 
“you’re like my best friend. i think you’re really funny, really cool, and sometimes you’re the only person i want to be around, even if we’re kind of just sitting around quietly. and you’re pretty so i figured that…that if i tried to date you, it would work.” 
“huh?” 
“like, you’re the best girl to do it. there’s no one like you. but…but if i kiss you and i feel nothing…maybe that means it’s not about personality or liking people….and more about the fact that…that you’re a girl and not a boy…and i guess i can’t get over that.” 
you pause. 
“why would i need to be a boy?” you whisper. 
and in the five seconds it takes to mutter those eight words, you clock the reason all together. 
it’s because megumi is gay. 
“i was like fourteen.” megumi deadpans. 
“and that’s no reason to forget the lessons you learned. no biting, no dodging, just –” 
megumi shakes his hand in the air, his face curled up in disgust, as he pushes another one of the shots towards you. 
“this is disgusting. let’s talk about something else.” 
while megumi pretends to be a larger than life hater of your resourcefulness, he’s truly the only person who can match your energy sometimes. which in this case, includes pressing your ear against one of the private rooms in the club, trying to catch the end of the conversation. 
“i can barely hear shit. the music is way too loud.” 
“yeah. this is making it sound all muffled.” megumi responds. 
you look to your left to find him crouched on the floor, the diaphragm of a stethoscope pressed against the wall as he leans forward to listen. 
“are you fucking insane? where did you even get that?” 
“lost and found.” 
“who the fuck brings a stethoscope to the club?” 
“it’s the first week of october, dumbass. some girl probably dressed up as a sexy nurse and left it on the floor.” 
“give me that.” you hiss.
“fuck no, get your own.” 
“they’re my ex-friends. and currently trying to stop me from charting. hand it over.” 
megumi gives you a glare, as you place the pieces in your ear, and the two of you lean forward against the wall again. and while it does little to help except piercing your ears. though all you hear is the shuffling of chairs, as you give megumi a wide-eyed look, to stand up and yank the earpieces out. 
and really, it is horrible timing because as the two of you stand up – with you linking your arms in with megumi’s to hide the stethoscope behind his back – as you shoot aimee and kim a peachy smile. and it’s a sickly sweet smile that aimee and kim give you, accompanied with a look up and down the length of your figure. 
“hi peach.” aimee states. 
you can feel your skin burn at the same old shitty nickname. 
“we were just talking about you.” kim starts. 
“likely thing for the two of you to be doing.” megumi mutters. 
kim shoots megumi an irritated glare, before reaching forward, and placing one of her hands on your shoulder. 
“i had a question for you. are you dating kuna?” kim asks. 
you pinch your nose in disgust. 
“what's it to you?” 
kim smiles. 
“we dated for a long time. just wanted to make sure he’s in good hands.” she clarifies. 
“it was barely three months.” you state. 
like always, kim sours quickly. 
“and it’ll be even shorter when it comes to you.” kim states. 
you roll your eyes. but before you can respond, she leans forward, pressing her fingers against your ear to fix your hair, before batting her eyelashes at you. 
“i don’t want you to get hurt again. and well, you better quit while you’re ahead, peach. guys like that won’t stick around for girls like you. you can’t exactly give him what he wants.” 
on the almost quiet drive home, with weary looks from megumi, you make seven calls, canceling your plans for tomorrow and making your plan while you’re ahead.
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“you’re so skilled with balls.” 
sukuna rolls his eyes, only to turn to his left and find what might be his most agitating (and his secret personal favorite) co-star, satoru gojo. 
“you should invest in a tape recorder. listen to the tape back at the end of the day and do some reflection.” sukuna states, before lifting the ball into the air and watching it swish into the net. 
in their last few days of press, the marketing team for the show decided that the group of them were going to be participating in a charity all-stars basketball game. it was one of the most anticipated events of the year, with celebrities being on both teams, and special surprise performances for the halftime show. 
the combined sales of the tickets, signed jerseys, and meet and greets raised tens of thousands of dollars, and all in all, it was one of the better events that sukuna found himself being forced to attend. that and the fact that athletics were something that sukuna was skilled at – something reinforced by the fact that his team was almost ten up at the halftime mark. 
sukuna takes his seat on the courtside bench, satoru handing him a gatorade as the two of them lean forward on their knees. it’s kind of intentional – the two of them sitting together, posing the way they were – only because it made for really good press. 
he catches sight of kim and aimee on the other side of the court, posing for the camera by pressing a kiss to each other’s cheeks, before leaning back in their chair, entirely bored. 
“ladies and gentleman, please welcome our special half-time show guest, y/n l/n.” 
sukuna nearly jolts up in his chair as the lights flash in the center of the court – to the sight of you wearing a light pink crew neck and a white tennis skirt – with a light pink ribbon tangled into your hair. 
“was she always on the setlist?” 
“don’t think so.” satoru mumbles back. 
Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso 
sukuna supposes that it should be a bad sign that this is the second time in a few days that he finds himself being mesmerized by your presence. and that this time, satoru’s noticed. 
“dude. you’re like drooling.” he whispers. 
“shut the fuck up.” 
Too bad your ex don't do it for ya Walked in and dream came trued it for ya Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya I know I Mountain Dew it for ya That morning coffee, brewed it for ya One touch and I brand newed it for ya 
sukuna watches as you shoot him a wink, before throwing the sparkly microphone in your hand to one of your backup dancers, and turning around. 
and really, it’s one of the most overwhelming feelings he’s had – that wholehearted and blissful exhilaration that pounds in his chest – as he watches you pull your crewneck over your head, only to be wearing his jersey underneath. (that and the fact that the resounding cheers that erupt after the fact are music to his fucking ears). 
I'm working late 'cause I'm a singer Oh, he looks so cute wrapped around my finger My twisted humor, make him laugh so often My honey bee, come and get this pollen
Too bad your ex don't do it for ya Walked in and dream came trued it for ya Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya I know I Mountain Dew it for ya That morning coffee, brewed it for ya One touch and I brand newed it for ya
he can feel his heart drop in his chest as you spare a wink, before returning to your choreography. 
“so that’s why you’re fucking drooling.” satoru states, giving him a hearty smile as he wraps one of his arms around his shoulder. 
sukuna can’t even muster an irritated look to give back to satoru. 
“who fucking wouldn’t?” sukuna mutters. 
“that’s real cute, dude. the espresso thing.” 
“what espresso thing?” sukuna asks. 
“you know. because you own the coffee shop and shit? isn’t that what she means?” satoru asks. 
of course that’s what you meant. and it’s in that split second that every hunch that sukuna has – that you’re every bit of what he expected, that you were just like him, that you were the exact type he knew you were – as he stands up, crossing his hands over his chest as he gives you a smile. 
and he can feel his heart pounding as you pull the ear pieces out to hang around your shoulders before walking over to him, your hands behind your back as you give him a sweet smile. only to turn immediately to his left and look at satoru. 
“hi.” 
he watches as satoru spits the gatorade back into the bottle, before standing up and running his hands through his hair. it slightly irritates him, the slight change in satoru’s demeanor. 
“hi?” 
you extend your hand out.
“i’m y/n.” 
and sukuna’s irritation gets even worse as satoru lifts your knuckles to his lips and presses a kiss against your hand. 
“satoru.” he responds. 
you give him a smile. 
“that’s cute.” 
you try not to relish in the way that sukuna clicks his tongue in his cheek,  trying his best to hide his frustration, as you look up at satoru. 
“to be honest, i kind of came here with an ulterior motive.” 
“my favorite kind of motive.” satoru responds. 
you walk over to satoru’s side, linking your hand in with his, as you point to the other side of the court. 
“you see that empty black seat right there?” 
“next to aimee lynch?” 
“that’s my seat.” 
satoru looks down at you, as he leans forward.
“we can’t have you sitting there.” he whispers. 
“only if you insist.” you respond. 
satoru puts his bottle down and you watch as he retreats to the other side to retrieve the chair, as you turn over to sukuna.  
“hi lavagirl.” you state. 
sukuna grins in response. 
“her hair is a little more neon than mine, but it’s always a pleasure, sharkboy.” sukuna responds. 
you give him a smile, noting the flashing cameras at your side, as you bring your hands forward, holding the sharpie up in between the two of you. 
“what’s this?” sukuna asks. 
“i got one of the last jersey’s. it wasn’t signed.” you ask. 
sukuna feigns shock. 
“you poor baby. we can’t have that, now can we?” 
you shake your head as sukuna smiles, taking the pen from your fingers, before signaling for you to turn around with his pointer finger.
and it makes you shiver as he bends down, taking the time to move the hair to the side of your shoulder before scribbling on your back. and that burning warmth that pools in your stomach gets even worse as his breath tickles your neck, before he leans over and presses a kiss to the nape of your neck. 
“one thing.” he whispers. 
you swallow hard, the whisper in his voice sending a shiver down your spine. 
“what’s that?” 
you watch as satoru walks up, placing the chair right next to his, as you and sukuna shoot him a smile. 
“try to rile me up and it’ll be more than that next time.”
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sephirthoughts · 14 hours
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Vincent’s lingering obsession with Lucrecia is excellent drama, but their story is not a doomed romance.
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This is an unpopular opinion, but I don’t think Lucrecia deserves nearly as much pity and excusing of her actions as she gets. This is not character-hate post, it's an analysis of a character I think gets short shrift as a Mother-Mary in a bell jar, and deserves better.
Lucrecia is morally grey. Charcoal grey. I love complex, morally grey characters, particularly when they're women, since usually women are relegated to roles that infantilize and objectify them, particularly in video games, which have historically been a very backward, androcentric medium. I strongly dislike brainless victims, subject to the whims of the male characters, without much agency, and Lucrecia was not such a character.
Lucrecia was an adult with agency and brains. She was a grown ass adult. She was a brilliant scientist. She made decisions with her eyes open, and even sacrificed her unborn child to her work. She is a very interesting character. The fact that she didn't idolize motherhood as the end-all of female existence, and that her obsession with her work was stronger than her desire to be a 'good mother' makes her far more interesting than otherwise. The fact that she regretted it later and wanted him back doesn’t magically make her a good person, or change the choices she made. It demonstrates guilt and remorse, which are part of character development. The bottom line is that she committed atrocities in the name of science, then felt guilty about it later, once she realized how devastating the consequences were to her personally. To say she didn’t know what she was doing or Hojo manipulated or controlled her is to infantilize and disrespect her character. She’s not some sacrificial angel who was a victim of circumstances; she was a willing participant in her own downfall.
Lucrecia is a tragic character, but she's not a romantic lead. Except in Vincent's head. After all was said and done, she had one of those too-late changes of heart that make tragedy so emotionally impactful. She had a human reaction to Vincent's death and felt terribly guilty for her role in all of it, as she should. That doesn't mean she loved him, it means she wasn't a monster. She lost her son, and gradually, Hojo's callous inhumanity and her inability to escape the net she wove with her own hands closed in on her. Did she deserve to never hold her baby son and never see him even once? No. But she caused it, with her own actions. That's tragedy. She was miserable, bereft, and riddled with guilt, so she made a last-ditch effort to make something right...by doing more insane science shit that turned Vincent into a monster. Seeing that she'd only made everything worse, she tried to kill herself, but was unable to, and thus ran off to become a crystal statue in a cave (this is a trope that I dislike, but that's the story, so that's what we've got).
Vincent is a bad judge of the circumstances. Vincent persists in seeing her as a lost love, and someone from whom he was unjustly separated by circumstances. The fact that he is so blinded by his feelings for her that he places her on this pedestal and can't blame her for what she did is excellent characterization, and I love it, but it's because he’s wrong. He loved her. She didn’t love him (I think she was in love with his father, but that's just icing on the tragedy cake, at this point). His lingering attachment, not to the real Lucrecia, but to the idealized version of her he has in his mind, is a very sad reality that adds so much delicious pain to his character. In the end, he is unable to blame her, because he loved his image of her (and Hojo is a way easier target for anger, because he's literally the worst), which speaks far more to his personal bias in the situation than to her actual role in it. She’s not moustache-twirlingly evil like Hojo but she’s not Vincent's star cross'd soul mate tragically torn away by cruel fate. Lucrecia was her own person.
In summation. Their story is not a doomed romance, it's a complicated, messy, ugly tangle of thorns, and one of the best written tragedies in a game that literally bleeds tragedy from every orifice. It's got one-sided love, obsession, mad science, betrayal, jealousy, fetal experimentation, murder, corpse reanimation, and a guy who can't die, and is left to deal with the consequences of everyone else's actions by himself forever. No one is innocent and no one comes out unscathed…strike that. Vincent is innocent and Hojo comes out unscathed. But still. Lucrecia is not a holy mother, she's not a brainless victim, and she's not Vincent's lost love. She's a person he loved, and who didn't reciprocate. Most importantly, she's a person. A whole-ass, complex, morally grey, fully developed person, who made terrible choices, then made even worse choices, and in the end, couldn't escape the fate she wove for herself.
And then wound up encased in crystal so she could be a pretty statue forever cause the game devs just couldn't help themselves I guess.
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erinelliotc · 2 days
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Which dub you likes better? Portuguese or english?
Oh, I loved getting this question! I have a lot to say on this subject because I really like talking about dubbing.
Sit down kids, and get ready for a little infodump about the Brazilian/Portuguese dubbing of Ed, Edd n Eddy! (the show has never been dubbed in Portugal. The only Portuguese dub is the Brazilian one, so referring to this EEnE dubbing as "Brazilian" or "Portuguese" is the same thing, same dub).
** I edited this post to make some additions. They're highlighted in purple **
Brazilian adaptation
First of all, it's important to say that here in Brazil, "Ed, Edd n Eddy" is "Du, Dudu e Edu". I already explained it here, but I'll explain it again. The Brazilian/Portuguese version of Edward is Eduardo, and the common nicknames are Dudu and Edu, so they just had to create the nickname "Du" (at least I've never seen someone called Eduardo being called Du) and there you go, we have the perfect adaptation! We lost the "Double D" nickname as we didn't have the issue of "Ed" and "Edd" sounding the same, so they just didn't see the need to keep it. So every time he's called "Double D" they just dub it as "Dudu" too. To me it's one of the best adaptations because it wouldn't sound very natural to call them "Edward/Eds" and it makes a lot of sense:
Ed = Du (1 D) Edd = Dudu (2 D's) Eddy = Edu ("Ed" with a sound at the end)
They even solved the issue of Ed and Edd sounding the same (even though I think Double D is a great and cute nickname and I really like this addition and miss it in the Brazilian dub, but I assume the reason it was added was in order to solve this issue).
Some funny things:
In the first episode (The Ed-Touchables) there's a dubbing error in a scene where Eddy calls Ed by his original name instead of "Du". I don't know how this went unnoticed because he calls him "Du" at all other times. It's only in the scene where Eddy says "Ed! Don't move! And stop giggling!".
There are also some errors in other episodes where they mix up the Eds (it only happens in the first season(s) if I remember correctly). There is, for example, a scene in "Who, What, Where, Ed" (season 1, episode 21) in which Lee in the Brazilian dub mistakenly refers to Eddy by Edd's Brazilian name (Dudu), and this scene kinda pisses me off because of the error but it's so freaking funny because besides them mistaking Eddy for Double D, they also changed her line to something that would only make sense if she was referring to Eddy. She says "Eddy's such a weasel", and they dubbed it as "O Dudu é o mais gostoso" ("Double D's the hottest [of them]"), which doesn't make any sense since Eddy's her crush and it just cracks me up, both for the error and for the unexpectedly somewhat inappropriate line for a kid's show (I think that here in Brazil calling someone "hot" may be a little more inappropriate than in English, at least I guess...?).
Brazilian dub
The Brazilian dub has a very special place in my heart because it was the one I grew up with, so it gives me a lot of nostalgia, and honestly it's a very good dub in general (I think Brazilian voice actors do an excellent job besides the errors because they're great at making dubs with a lot of emotion and naturalness).
There are even some scenes that I find funnier in the Brazilian dub because the voice intonation is stronger/more dramatic/has more emotion, or because they changed the lines to something funnier (I'm not a fan of changing lines, but I don't mind changes if it's just to make the line stronger and the original meaning and essence of what was said is maintained). Some examples:
"A Glass of Warm Ed" (season 1, episode 19) - Double D saying "Oh dear. An intruder. Eating all the food out of my refrigerator. In bare feet!" in Portuguese sounds funnier to me because his voice intonation in "In bare feet!" seems a little more terrified. This scene always gets me because of the way he talks. I love Double D’s concept of things escalating from bad to worse. Like: An intruder = oh how inconvenient Eating all my food = oh no, that’s terrible! In bare feet! = good lord! that’s TOO MUCH! COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE!!!
"Eds-Aggerate" (season 1, episode 23) - As I said, Kevin's Brazilian voice sounds much funnier to me, so I'll give just one of the countless examples of this because otherwise I'd have to mention all of his lines. Kevin says "Mucky... boys?" — which was dubbed here as "Garotos primatas" ("Primate boys") — and "Baloney!" — which was dubbed here as "Mentira!" ("Lies!/You're lying!") —, and I just love the way it sounds in Portuguese.
"Avast Ye Eds" (season 1, episode 26) - Eddy's line in Portuguese sounds funnier to me because his voice intonation and line seem ruder, more impatient and more tired. In the original dub he says "Hey kid, I'm on my break. Do you mind?", and it was dubbed as "Ô garoto, eu tô de folga. Não enche o saco" ("Hey kid, I'm on a break. Get off my back/Get out of my face/Don't piss me off" [I don't know which one is the best way to translate it]).
"Knock, Knock, Who's Ed?" (season 2, episode 3) - This is one of the best examples I can give of line change that just makes it funnier without losing its original meaning. In the scene where Ed offers a candy stuck to his leg and says "I got this one for Christmas", it was dubbed as "Essa tá aqui desde que eu era bebê" ("This one's been here since I was a baby"). The fun of this line is to express that the candy has been stored on his leg for a very long time, so this change just amplified this, increasing the time the candy would be there and making the line much more absurd and funny.
"One + One = Ed" (season 2, episode 4) - Double D's line in Portuguese sounds much funnier to me because they changed the line to something more direct and less soft (even though Double D's a gentle, delicate and polite character, he's also brutally honest and sometimes says some unexpected harsh things quite bluntly, so I don't think it was out of character for him). In the original dub he says "I best tend to his medical needs. Excuse me", and it was dubbed as "Eu vou ver o que sobrou do Edu, tá? Um instante" ("I'm going to see what's left of Eddy, okay? Just a moment"). This line makes me imagine him literally picking up the pieces of Eddy. I don't know, I'm a very visual and literal person, so this line sounds really funny to me, especially with him saying it with a smile.
"Floss Your Ed" (season 2, episode 8) - Double D saying "Plain butter?" in Portuguese sounds much funnier to me because his voice intonation seems more terrified. In the original dub he just sounds confused and speechless to me, whereas in Portuguese he seems more disconcerted, shocked, perplexed, astonished, intrigued and disturbed that Rolf would suggest that Ed eat plain butter. I like this because Double D's a character who's easily impressed and shocked by things and tends to have strong reactions to absurd situations or even situations that aren't considered absurd to others. To me it makes perfect sense that he'd be terrified and have a reaction that highlights the absurdity of the act of eating plain butter. To me it's like it went from "Plain… butter? 😶" to "Plain butter!? 😨".
"Honor Thy Ed" (season 2, episode 17) - I was a little disappointed when I watched the original episode because I really thought Eddy said what he said in the Brazilian dub and I really liked that line, but then I found out it was actually a line change. Ed says "You scared Double D, Eddy" and Eddy says "I did, didn't I? C'mon, I got an idea", and it was dubbed as: Ed: "Assustou o magricela" ("You scared the skinny guy") / Eddy: "Ah, eu sei disso, Du. Adoro deixar ele nervoso" ("Oh, I know that, Ed. I love making him nervous"). It sounded so teasing, a bit EddEddy, I really loved it and I was totally convinced it was the original line because it sounded so much like something Eddy would say.
"Jingle Jingle Jangle" (Christmas Special episode) - Okay, so let's talk about really inappropriate dubbing. There's a scene where Rolf originally says "You have pulled Rolf's eggplant, half-man, half-woman Ed boy", and it was dubbed as "Impressionou o órgão em formato de berinjela do Rolf, Edu" ("You impressed Rolf's eggplant-shaped organ, Eddy"). I think it's so funny how explicit that line got, but it kinda saddens me that they cut out the "half-man, half-woman" part.
Kevin's Brazilian voice is one of the funniest to me. I'd say Alexandre Moreno is one of the most famous Brazilian voice actors with one of the most memorable voices. He dubs Adam Sandler (the work for which he's best known), dubbed Ben Stiller, Steve Carell, Antonio Banderas, Josh Duhamel, Martin Freeman, dubbed Puss in Boots from Shrek, Alex from Madagascar, Syndrome from The Incredibles, Dracula from Hotel Transylvania, Flapjack, Flint from Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, Denzel Crocker from The Fairly OddParents, Adam from Bee Movie, Numbuh 9 from Kids Next Door, Krusty from The Simpsons, and many others. Even though I love Kevin's original voice (and especially his laugh, which I particularly prefer in the original voice), I think the Brazilian one sounds funnier and more informal.
Sarah's Brazilian voice actress did many important and memorable voices too. Iara Riça was the main voice actress for Harley Quinn, Brenda Song, Tara Strong, dubbed Tails, Blossom from Powerpuff Girls, Frankie from Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends, Cree from Kids Next Door, Fionna from Adventure Time, Tecna from Winx Club, Courtney from Total Drama, Charlotte from The Princess and the Frog, Princess Su from Mulan 2, Yumi from Hi Hi Puffy AmiYumi, and many others). She was one of my favorite voice actresses, but she unfortunately passed away on April 27, 2021. I think her voice was perfect for Sarah. She was able to do annoying and striking voices just right.
Eddy's Brazilian voice is quite different, but in the end I think it suits him because it's a very strong and chaotic voice too. Ricardo Juarez dubbed Will Ferrell, Taz, Johnny Bravo, Kratos from God of War, Melman from Madagascar, Barney from The Simpsons, Fuzzy from Powerpuff Girls, and some others.
Lee's Brazilian voice was also a voice that I think was really great for her. Nádia Carvalho was a famous and remarkable Brazilian actress and voice actress. She dubbed Bette Midler, Queen Latifah, Miranda Richardson, Edna from The Incredibles, Dexter's mom from Dexter's Laboratory, and many others. She also unfortunately passed away on July 11, 2022.
Fun facts:
Double D and Rolf share the same Brazilian voice actor and I think he did a great job with both of them. His voice makes Double D sound a little hoarse, something that I think suits the character and contributes to making some lines funnier and stronger/more dramatic. Luiz Sérgio Vieira dubbed Static from Static Shock, Matsuda from Death Note, Numbuh 4 from Kids Next Door, Bloo from Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends, Timmy from The Fairly OddParents, Jonathan from Stranger Things, Plagg from Miraculous Ladybug, Ralph from The Simpsons, Gibby from iCarly, and many others.
Nazz's first Brazilian voice actress is a mystery. We have no information on who she was, and she dubbed her for like, almost half of the show (I still need to check if it's correct, but according to the wiki she dubbed her in: season 1, season 2, the first half of season 3 and one episode from season 4), being replaced by Sylvia Salustti, another memorable voice (she dubbed Tweety from Looney Tunes, Pearl from Steven Universe, Rapunzel from Tangled, Eva from Wall-E, Foxy from Chicken Little, Ring Ring from Pucca, Amy from The Big Bang Theory, Rachel from Glee, Phoebe from Friends, and many others).
English/original dub x Brazilian dub
However, I prefer the original dub. I really love the original voices, especially Eddy's (God bless Tony Sampson). Most of Eddy's scenes are always funny to me just because of his voice tone, everything he says is funny to me because of the exaggerated, loud and chaotic way he talks. A voice that I think is much better in the original dub is Jonny's. I don't dislike the Brazilian voice, but it's just too... normal. Jonny's original voice suits his personality very well because it shows how nuts and lunatic he is. Jimmy's original voice also sounds a little more, well... gay.
I think the EEnE crew did an excellent job and I'm so grateful that Danny Antonucci was the pain-in-the-ass perfectionist guy telling them to repeat their lines until it was good enough because we really got a show with wonderful and memorable lines. I really love it when people are genuinely passionate about things and really care about making them perfect in an obsessive way. I'm very much like that... and of course Antonucci is too, that's his Double D side. I also love how this is reflected in the fandom. I see that this fandom is full of people who don't like the show in a simple and shallow way, but in an obsessed and passionate way (it's one of my reasons for thinking that EEnE is a show that primarily appeals to neurodivergent people. We just hyperfixate on things, in this case EEnE, and cling to them like they're the most important and amazing thing in the world to us).
I'd say the only voice that leaves me torn about which one I think is better is Kevin's. But apart from him, I think all the original voices are better, but please don't get me wrong. As I said, I love the Brazilian dub, I just prefer the original one, that's all. I'd say that the original dub is 10/10 and the Brazilian dub is like 8/10.
Things in the Brazilian dub that I don't like
There are some things that aren't necessarily bad, it's just something that I personally don't like for particular reasons and personal preferences.
One of my biggest complaints about the Brazilian dub is something very specific: Ed's dub. I'm a perfectionist, very obsessive, so I like dubbing being as close as possible to the original one and suffering the less changes as possible (I think changes when translating a show/movie/series/book/game/etc are welcome for the reasons I previously explained, and also to adapt to our context and culture, such as changing the names of the Eds), and that's why I tend to prefer watching everything in the original dub, and even when it's dubbed in Portuguese I like to watch it with subtitles (for this same reason, and also because I have a hard time just listening to things because I probably have Central Auditory Processing Disorder. I wish I could turn on subtitles in real life too xD). Ed must be the character who has undergone the most line changes, I believe intending to make him more goofy and dumb, but at the same time I don't understand the need because his original lines were already very random and strange. Apparently, this happened due to the voice actor's own personal decision (I want to make it clear that I think the voice actor is really great and remarkable, but in this particular work I don't agree with his choices for the lines). Clécio Souto is a famous Brazilian actor, voice actor and announcer. He dubbed Chris Evans, Andy Samberg, James Franco, Jared Leto, Kel from Kenan & Kel, Castiel from Supernatural, Banana Joe from The Amazing World of Gumball, Lenny from Shark Tale, and many others. He created 3 catchphrases for Ed that he used very often in place of the original lines, which I genuinely can't understand because Ed already had catchphrases, so why not just keep them? According to him they wouldn't be funny to us, but I don't understand why he thinks so. Well, so in the Brazilian dub, Ed loses his original catchphrases. He no longer talks all the time about buttered toast and gravy, and his lines about chickens remained, but were changed to "galinha com quiabo" ("chicken with okra") (a Brazilian dish), which I really dislike because to me the point is that he likes chickens themselves, as animals, alive, and not as food. Him saying "Who's there?" was also replaced by one of his new catchphrases, "Nem doeu" ("It didn't hurt").
Here's a video of him talking about it:
Translation of what he says in the video:
The character became known for the 3 line changes that I invented. Exactly, this one, Ed. I said "I love chicken with okra!". It didn't have that in the original. I don't remember [what he said in the original]. I change lines so much... I already look and say "I'm not gonna say that because it won't be funny to us. I'm gonna say something else", then "I love chicken with okra". Every time he bumped into something, he said something stupid or didn't even speak and had his back turned, I said "It didn't hurt!". A line change of mine too, "It didn't hurt". It became a catchphrase. And the other one was "Cute/pretty" [I don't know a proper way to translate it]. "Aw, I'm cute/pretty!", which was his too and didn't exist [in the original]. All line changes, all line changes.
There are so many line changes that I won't be able to mention them all, so here are a few examples, but keep in mind that there were A LOT of line changes in every episode:
"An Ed Too Many" (season 1, episode 11) - Instead of saying "And she's a good speller", Ed was dubbed saying "Ele vai ter um fim desgraçado" ("He's gonna have a disgraceful end"). The voice actor thought it'd be funnier to have Ed respond like a jealous older brother trying to protect his younger sister, and I must admit I found it very funny, especially because he speaks in a very normal way and not with an angry voice tone.
"Look Into My Eds" (season 1, episode 13) - Instead of saying "book" and "buttered toast" when Double D asks what he sees in the images, he says "meleca" ("booger") and "salsicha estragada" ("spoiled sausage"). And in the scene where Eddy asks about the hypnotizing wheel and Ed says it was "buttered toast", it was dubbed as "a black lollipop".
"A Boy and his Ed" (season 1, episode 16) - Instead of Eddy saying "Be Kevin's friends? We'd have a better chance of Ed growing a chin" and Ed saying "I wish I had 4 stomachs", it was dubbed as: Eddy: "Ser amigo do Kevin? Seria muito mais fácil se o Du deixasse crescer uma barba" ("Be Kevin's friend? It'd be much easier for Ed to grow a beard") / Ed: "Será que eu ia ficar bonitinho de barba?" ("I wonder if I'd look cute/pretty with a beard"). I really dislike this line change because they cut out the joke about Ed not having a chin, and removed him having a completely random line that has no connection with what Eddy said, something that's part of his character since he's supposed to be the distracted one, and thus, have nonsense lines and random thoughts.
"One + One = Ed" (season 2, episode 4) = At the end of the episode, instead of referencing the events that occurred previously by saying "Jimmy! You got your line back! Is it on wrong?", "Baby sister! Take your mouth off again" and "It's stuck", he was dubbed saying "Jimmy! Você sentou ao contrário. É pra lá, bobão" ("Jimmy! You sat backwards. It's that way, silly"), "E aí, maninha chata. Vamos brincar?" ("What's up, annoying sister. Let's play?") and "Ih, engasgou" ("Sheesh, she choked"). I honestly don't understand why the voice actor changed these lines. It just makes Ed look like he's being completely nonsensical not only to the other kids but to us too, because the fun of that scene was that he seemed crazy to the kids because they don't know the context of the things he's doing and saying, and not him being really random.
"Stop, Look and Ed" (season 2, episode 16) - Instead of saying "Why's Double D wearing pantyhose on his head?", Ed was dubbed saying "Tá parecendo o coelhinho da páscoa!" ("He looks like the Easter Bunny!"), which was very creative indeed.
"Your Ed Here" (season 4, episode 13) - Ed's classic line after the classic kiss scene "One is a lonely number, Double D" was dubbed as "O 1 é um número só, não é, Dudu?" ("1 is a single number, isn’t it, Double D?"). The biggest change was in the intonation of his voice, so instead of it being a sad statement, it turned into Ed just asking a random and stupid question. "One is a lonely number" may sound strange at first glance, but it's clear he means he felt left out.
The feeling I have is as if in the moments when Ed should have random lines they turned into lines with more sense, and in the lines with more sense they turned into random lines. Anyway, enough talking about Ed's dub. Despite everything I've pointed out, I don't consider it a bad dub. As I said, it's just a matter of my personal preference. The voice actor just wanted to give the character a boost, a little bit of his special touch, and I respect that.
Kevin had a second voice actor in some episodes (Duda Espinoza), which bothered me because I usually don't like voice actor changes, especially if the other voice sounded much better to me (I mean, it was fucking Alexandre Moreno. It sucks to just take away a remarkable voice like his), but at least it was only in a few episodes, so it didn't bother me that much. The change in Nazz's voice actress didn't bother me because both voices suited her to me.
I really love all the Brazilian voices (some more than others), I think they all suit the characters, even the ones that aren't so similar to the original voices. But there's a voice that was one of the worst choices I've ever seen in dubbing: Eddy's brother's voice. Honestly, this was their only really BAD choice in choosing a voice actor. Bro's literally an adult and in the Brazilian dub he sounds like a kid/teenager, because he was in fact dubbed by one! @eenedump already talked about it on Twitter, and it's true. Nothing against the guy, Luciano Monteiro is a great voice actor and did and does amazing dubbing (like Finn from Adventure Time, Freddie from iCarly, Zack and Cody, Lewis from Meet the Robinsons, Baljeet from Phineas and Ferb, and many others), but he just wasn't a good choice for Bro. He was a literal kid/teen at the time! 14 years old! Even the characters that are actually kids are dubbed by adults, so why would they choose someone who's actually a kid and sounds like a kid (if he at least sounded like an adult, age wouldn't be an issue) to dub the only adult who appears in the show? I can't see any explanation for this decision.
Now, a thing that REALLY haunted me in the Brazilian dub, disturbed me even more than Bro's voice, was in the Valentine's special episode "Hanky Panky Hullabaloo". The strangest, most disconcerting and unexplainable thing happened when I was watching it and it made me very confused, uncomfortable and concerned for the rest of the episode: Marie and May's voice actresses simply swapped places. I honestly can't think of any reason for that happening. Like, I hate when voice actors change, but I understand that it can happen because for some reason the first one can't voice the character anymore or just can't in some episodes. But this!? This is completely nonsense. What happened? Did everyone, including themselves, forget which Kanker they dubbed? There's no logical explanation and I've never seen this happening before in any other dub. Seriously, imagine watching Ed, Edd n Eddy almost in its entirety, with two characters having the same voices from the beginning, and suddenly you're hearing May's voice coming out of Marie's mouth and Marie's voice coming out of May's mouth. There's no other way to describe this occurrence other than Double D's classic line in "3 Squares and an Ed" (season 3, episode 6): "That's disturbing". I felt like I was in an alternate reality.
And in "May I Have This Ed?" (season 6, episode 1), Marie's voice actress dubbed May in the scene where she says "How about you get your claws off my man, boyfriend-stealer!", but in the previous scene when May says "Hey!" she seems to have been dubbed by the right voice actress. Again, disturbing.
There are some other minor things in the Brazilian dub that kinda bother me:
Double D sounds a little less formal, especially in the first seasons. A problem that happened in the Brazilian dub is that many words that Double D says in English that would be excessively formal are actually common words in Portuguese (to get around this and maintain the character's characteristic of having a sophisticated vocabulary, I'd try as much as possible to replace the words that Double D originally used with more unknown and difficult synonyms in Portuguese). There are times when Ed or Eddy shouldn't understand what he said or should get it wrong, but to us it wouldn't make sense that they wouldn't understand because Double D didn't say anything difficult to understand. I already gave an example of this in a post about the classic "Eddy, I fear they're becoming amorous!" line from "Home Cooked Eds" (season 2, episode 11). "Amorous" (amoroso(s) / amorosa(s)) is a very common word in Portuguese with a very normal meaning, not related to anything sexual at all, just meaning someone who's affectionate or sweet. For this reason, I made a line change to another word that would be more formal and carry a sexual meaning (in the Brazilian dub he just uses the word "amorosas"). Another example is in "Who Let the Ed In?" (season 2, episode 10), when Double D says "I'm at quite a quandary" and Eddy says "Forget your laundry". In English there are both the words "quandary" and "dilemma", but in Portuguese we only have the word "dilema", which is also a common word and which I still haven't been able to think of how to adapt to rhyme with something that Eddy would get wrong (in the Brazilian dub there's no joke with him getting it wrong, Eddy just understands what Double D says). And another example is in "Shoo Ed" (season 2, episode 20), when Eddy uses the word "provoke" and Double D's impressed that he knows that word. Again, a completely common word in Portuguese since we don't have the word "teasing", we only have "provocar".
Something unfortunately inevitable in all dubbings and adaptations but which bothers me anyway is the jokes that only make sense in English. As I'm subtitling the episodes, I'm coming across a very large number of jokes that I have no idea how to adapt into Portuguese. A good example of this problem is the classic "I'd swear, but standards won't let me" joke from "Ed Overboard" (season 4, episode 7). The fun of this joke is centered on exploring the dubious and ambiguous meaning of the word "swear", which can mean either "promise" or "express anger in a very rude and inappropriate way", something that doesn't exist in Portuguese, we just have different words for each of that. Since there was no way to adapt it, it was dubbed as "Até faria, mas não tô afim não" ("I'd do it, but I don't feel like it").
Something similar to the previous problem is lines that should rhyme but the rhyme just can't happen. In "Nagged to Ed" (season 1, episode 2), Eddy says "Nice head, Ed" and he even highlights the fact that it rhymed, but in Portuguese the word "head" doesn't rhyme with Du or Ed, so the scene just seems like Eddy's being stupid and saying that something that doesn't rhyme does rhyme (which honestly isn't that out of character for him as he's shown to be quite stupid at times, but the loss of this rhyme particularly bothers me).
There are some errors every now and then, but the dub errors are not even close to being a big reason for my rating 8/10 because they're not that frequent. However, every time they happen it bothers me. An example is in "Mirror, Mirron, on the Ed" (season 2, episode 22) when Eddy says "Once upon an observation of this small rock, I have discovered it actually mutated from a big rock", and it was dubbed as "Após observação desta pequena pedra, eu descobri que na verdade ela se transformou em uma grande pedra" ("After the observation of this small rock, I have discovered that it actually turned into a big rock"), like... what?
Anyway, that's what I had to say. I love both dubs, I love the Brazilian dub despite the things I mentioned, but in the end I think the original dub is better.
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trivia-yandere · 7 months
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Hi!!!! Okay, first of all, I'm in love with your writing!!!!!! 💕💕💕💕And I was wondering (I've never done a story request so if it is horrible, please just ignore it 😅) but I was wondering if you could write a story of maybe yandereboyfriend/friend jungkook kinda forces older (not heaps but like 2-5 years older but shes just shy and confused when it comws to sex and intimacy) reader to loose her virginity to him and she likes it at the end?? If this is super uncomfortable, please don't even think about it 😅😶‍🌫️👉👈 or if you wanna do something completely different, I'd love your writing anyways!!!! 💕💕💕💕💕
hello! yes I can :) thank you for sending a request and being so patient! i feel like this yandere is more light than the usual lol
best friends!
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jungkook doesn't like the idea of you wanting to loose your virginity to anyone that wasn't him. @momnomnom @sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63 @minshookie29 idol version
word count: 6.100
warning: naive/shy reader, mentions of watching porn, childhood friends jungkook + reader, smut scenes, coercion, masturbation, manipulation, light yandere tedancies, jealous jungkook, dub-con moments, dry humping, kissing, nipple sucking, oral sex, loss of virginity, rough sex, dacryphilia, fingering, unprotected sex, spitting,
“You’ll never be able to seduce a man, Noona.” Jungkook laughs boisterously, causing your face to heat up. “You’re just too shy.”
Jungkook’s eyes watch as your arms cross over your chest, any self-confidence you had slowly falling. He hums, turning over on his bed to face you. He then places a hand on your thigh. “Noona…”
“Stop calling me that, Jungkook.” you murmur. He knows that you prefer to be called by your name, but he’d often ignore you because of how much he enjoys teasing you, even after years of friendship. 
“You’re upset with me.” says Jungkook.
“I’ve stopped calling you Kookie like you asked.”
Jungkook snorts. “That’s because the nickname doesn’t fit me anymore. I’m a man.” his hand squeezes your thigh. “Besides, I said stop calling me that in public. You and I are alone now.”
You and Jungkook have been friends since childhood, your father and his being great friends. The age difference never bothered you as much, and you’d often recall calling Jungkook your baby brother during his primary and middle school days - you having been homeschooled. It was when Jungkook grew in size and age and reached High School did he demand you stop calling him that but never gave a reason as to why.
Even now, as Jungkook and you are adults, the friendship remains. You went to him for whatever you thought you needed and he was there. Moving away from your father had been a big step and finding a job to support yourself was even bigger, but you were never truly alone because you had Jungkook - you and he living together.
Jungkook was the opposite of you. While your job consisted of you being home, he wasn’t. He made friends easily while you remained with a close knit circle. He was more social when needed and you often closed up around people you didn’t know. Most of your friends were Jungkook’s friends that he considered brothers - you recall asking him why he considered them family and not you. Jungkook didn’t give you any reason, stating that you’d never be a sister in his eyes, no matter if he knew you longer or not.
Now you and Jungkook lay in his bed, an action that he insisted on every so often, and watched tv. He’d often hold you, his breath tickling your ear with how close he was. A certain thought now laid on your mind and when you brought it up to Jungkook, his initial thought was to laugh at you. 
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Y/N.” Jungkook sighs. He pushes himself closer to you, the hand on your thigh firmly keeping you in place. “It’s just…you don’t go out much. You’ve been homeschooled your entire life and you don’t really have friends besides the ones I have.”
Jungkook continues. “You literally cried the first time I showed you porn.” he tries his hardest not to laugh at the memory of you and he, both in High School. You had come over to his home while his parents were working. Jungkook had asked you about it randomly, and when you insisted that you never watched something as normal as porn, he insisted that you and he watch together. 
You’re flushed with heat at the embarrassing memory. “You…” you take a deep breath so your voice wouldn’t crack. “You told me it was just sex.”
“Is it not?” Jungkook knits his brows. 
“They were crying!”
“In pleasure.” says Jungkook. “I should have started you off easy and not gone into bondage.” low, he begins to laugh. It’s a memory that he’s fond of. “But I don’t regret showing you either. It was the first time you came!”
A memory you wished Jungkook would forget - and stop bringing up. That same night he insisted on teaching you about masturbation, telling you that it was normal. You’ve never done so before, feeling weird about it all together, but Jungkook wouldn’t allow you to leave until you at least gave it a try. 
“You even cried in pleasure.” 
Jungkook closes his eyes, the scene flashing in his mind. How innocent you appeared, completely confused on what in the world you were doing. It was then did Jungkook tell you that he’d talk you through it. It took a half an hour of convincing, of course. Getting you out of your pants, then your underwear. 
“Open your legs, Y/N.” Jungkook had said, grabbing your wrist. “Put your fingers right…there.” he places them onto your clit and you flinch at the feeling. “Then rub…” he murmured, his hand coaching you to rub until you got the hang of it.
Jungkook will never forget the sight and how hard he was at just watching you. Your breathing hitching, the low moans and the calls of his name. It’s a memory he cherishes with you - his best friend - and one of the main reasons as to why he’d never call you his sister; he had to dead that immediately afterwards. 
“Who are you trying to seduce anyways?” Jungkook changes the subject and goes back to the original topic. “You found yourself a boyfriend?”
“No.” you quip. “I-I just want to have sex.”
Jungkook raises a brow. “Why?”
“You have sex all the time.” you retort. You didn’t like Jungkook’s question, nor the look in his eyes. 
“I’m also not a virgin.” Jungkook fires back. “You can’t just have sex with anyone, Y/N. Don’t you think it has to be special?”
“Your first time wasn’t with anyone special.” you murmur. “Do you even talk to her anymore?”
Jungkook snickers. “Don’t remember her name.” he shrugs. “But you and I are different. Sex is different for women.” Jungkook says matter-of-factly. “You women create bonds with guys you give your body to. You can’t have that bond with just anyone.”
It was a conversation Jungkook and you had time and time again. As you got older, you were tired of being a virgin - and dating was never an option. Not because you couldn’t find a boyfriend - you could. You had men come up to you asking for your number and if you’d be interested in going on dates. 
The problem was Jungkook. He lingered around you often, and you never minded. He was your best friend and each man that tried were always shot down by him, not you. “He’s ugly.” Jungkook said about one man. “He looks like he doesn’t even shower, Y/N. Why he thinks he can speak to you is beyond me.” was said about another. “Men only want one thing. They can tell that you’ve never been touched.”
“What about Hoseok?”
Jungkook is quiet for a moment, your question lingering in his mind.
Hoseok?
Hoseok.
Jung Hoseok as his friend - the man he calls his brother?
There’s a dark look in Jungkook’s eyes as he thinks about your question. 
“Do you like him?”
“I love Hoseok.” you say calmly. “Like I love you.”
Jungkook doesn’t realize that his nails are digging into your skin until he hears you yelp. There was no way in Hell you love Hoseok the same as you loved him; the thought makes him want to gag.
“Why Hoseok?”
You aren’t sure how to respond. “I’ve known him for years.” was all you can think of. You and he were around the same age and he was nice, always smiling widely at you whenever he came around. “Maybe Namjoon?”
Jungkook swallows.
“You look at my friends often?”
There’s a change in Jungkook’s tone that has you cowering.
“I-I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Do you want to fuck my friends?” 
You’re taken aback by the harshness in Jungkook’s tone. 
“I…I don’t know anyone else but your friends.”
Jungkook snickers. He wasn’t going to allow you and Hoseok - or Namjoon, hell, anyone - to do anything. Hoseok is a man such as he is and the thought of his taking something precious from you was driving him wild. Wild because he knows that if you asked Hoseok, he would.
“No.” Jungkook shakes his head. “Hoseok has a girlfriend.”
A lie, but you’d never know that.
“Oh.” you appeared bummed. “Nam-”
“No.”
You swallow. “Jimin…?”
“Do you fantasize about them?”
You’ve know his friends as long as he has, and now he’s wondering when you had the thought of fucking them in your mind. 
“I just want to have sex.” you sigh in defeat, not wanting to cause a fight with Jungkook.
“Why wouldn’t you ask me?”
Jungkook doesn’t care how unreasonably spoiled he may sound. You were his best friend, after all. He kept creeps away from you who wanted nothing but to wet their cocks. You were safe with him in the home you and he shared - he’d be damned if he’d allow a man to come in here and fuck you.
You’re silent, and Jungkook continues. 
“You don’t love me.”
Your eyes widen when you feel Jungkook remove himself from you.
“I do.” you quip. “I-I just…I don’t have anyone else. I’m tired of not knowing what it feels like.” watching television with sexual scenes had you wondering if sex was truly as good as they made it seem. You recall hearing from Taehyung, another friend of Jungkook, that porn is often fake and not everything you see was real - but how could it not be when their eyes are rolling and they’re screaming with such passion?
“If you loved me, Y/N, you’d ask me.”
Your heart sinks when Jungkook lifts from his lying position. You hated arguing with him. He was someone you loved and trusted with your life - him being upset with you had your anxiety spiking.
“I thought you had someone you were seeing.” you admit. You recall seeing her a few times in the home. She never spoke, but then again neither did you. She would stroll past you to enter Jungkook’s bedroom and only ever gave you a small grin. 
“Oh her.” Jungkook brushes past the statement. “I am. Somewhat.” he shrugs his shoulders. Her contemplated asking her out - she was decent looking and a good fuck. But he didn’t love her nor respect her enough to make her his girlfriend. He was just bored at the moment. “Why does that matter?”
The same way it matters that Hoseok had a girlfriend, you think. You want to say it, but you didn’t want to upset Jungkook anymore than he already was. “I don’t want to come between that.”
Jungkook wants to laugh. “I don’t love her. I love you.” Jungkook says, a tone in his voice that indicates that it should be obvious. “You are my best friend. You should be able to come to me when you need me. Not anyone else.”
You lift yourself up from the bed, as well, and you slowly nod your head. “Sorry.” you murmur.
Jungkook turns to face you, a full smile on his lips. “It’s okay. I’ll forgive you, Y/N.” Jungkook holds his hand out for you to grab. 
You do, and Jungkook lightly tugs you closer. You and he are face to face now.
“Sex is more than just losing your virginity.” Jungkook’s thumb rubs your knuckles. “Sex should be pleasurable for both of us. Masturbation is a form of sex. You’ve done that already.”
You nod slowly, feeling hot. 
“Tell me, Y/N.” Jungkook says. “When you masturbate, what makes you cum?”
You lick your lips, again embarrassed. You swallow while trying to find the words to answer Jungkook.
“When you watch porn, what do you like?” Jungkook changes the question up, and understands how shy you were - even with him. 
Jungkook waits patiently for you to respond. “I-I…” you glance away from him. His eyes were always so piercing, like small black holes that can swallow anyone whole. 
“Don’t be shy. We’re best friends, right?” Jungkook pulls you closer to him. “If you loved me, Y/N, you’ll tell me. I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.”
You nod. “Oral sex?” your words come out questioningly. 
Jungkook nods. “Okay. That’s a start. Oral sex is a big part of sex. It’s a form of foreplay. Get things started.”
“I don’t think you should do that.” you’re horrified with Jungkook’s face being so close to your sex. Yes, he’s seen it before - years ago - but that was then. He was a man now and he’s had sex with countless women.
“Why not?” Jungkook tilts his head. 
You’re silent, and Jungkook sighs. “You don’t trust me.”
“I do!” 
“Then why don’t you trust me to pleasure you? You’d rather go to my friends than trust me, Y/N. How do you think that makes me feel?”
“I’m sorry.” you quip. “I just don’t think it…looks good?”
Jungkook blinks. 
You swallow.
“Of course it looks good.” Jungkook then laughs. “I’ve already seen it.”
“That was years ago.” you murmur, casting your eyes away. 
“True. But still. You trust and love me just like I trust and love you.” Jungkook places a hand on your cheek for you to look at him. “If we’re going to do this, you can’t hide your body from me. I’ll have to show you mine, too.”
You nod your head.
“We can start now.”
You inhale deeply. You don’t move, and when Jungkook notices he frowns. 
“Y/N. What did I say?”
“Don’t hide from you.” you murmur. 
“Exactly. Here. I’ll help you take your clothes off and you can do the same for me.”
Jungkook is slow when he puts his hands at the end of your shirt. He lifts it up and you stiffen, unsure of what to do next. The shirt comes over your head and Jungkook throws it aside. 
“Okay?” asks Jungkook, his eyes glancing down to the bra you’re wearing. It’s red and basic, but it hugs your breast perfectly. 
You only nod.
“Okay.” Jungkook then goes towards your leggings. They’re tight, but he manages to get his hands inside. He begins to tug and awkwardly, you lift yourself up so he can remove them. Your panties are black and cotton.
“Now you do the same to me.” Jungkook says. He understands you by now, knowing that you’d never take the first move. He grabs your wrists and walks you through it. “Go ahead.”
You’re trembling, you note, as you remove Jungkook’s shirt - an oversize black shirt. You often are reminded how much Jungkook has grown over the years, going from a boy to a man. He worked out often and was athletic. He had many tattoos that litter his skin - you had gone with him for a few of them and pondered how he could sit so calmly. 
“I’ll get up to make it easier.” Jungkook lifts from his bed and waits for you to continue. You’re as slow as before, hands trembling more than before. You tug at the sweats he wore, watching as they fall to the ground. You try to hide the fact that you gawk at the bulge in his briefs, swallowing at the sight. 
“Y/N.”
You blink up to look at Jungkook.
“You trust me, right?”
You nod your head.
“Okay.” Jungkook gives you a grin. “Come here.”
Jungkook leans down, his hand grasping your chin. He no longer hesitates or holds back, placing his lips upon yours.
You’re shocked, completely stiff, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. You’ll give into him eventually - it may take a few rounds, but you will.
You’re pushed backwards, back hitting the mattress. Jungkook hovers above you, his hands placing themselves onto your shoulders to keep you in place. 
You gasp for air when Jungkook removes his lips from yours, but then they’re trailing down your jawline to your neck. You’re breathing heavily, unsure what to do.
“You can touch me.” says Jungkook, as if reading your mind. “Don’t just lay there.”
Jungkook continues to kiss at your neck, his left hand leaving your shoulder and grabs your hand. He places it upon his chest for you to take the lead. His hand then goes to your waist to pull you closer to him. 
Your heart thumps that this is happening now - you and Jungkook. Goosebumps litter your skin, the hair standing straight up. But you do as you’re told, hand grabbing Jungkook’s bicep and squeezing it. 
Jungkook forces your legs apart, wrapping them around his waist. You yelp when you feel him, his bulge grinding directly against you. There’s a deep groan from Jungkook that you hear coming from your neck. 
“You have to engage.” Jungkook lifts slightly to look at your face. “Kiss me like I’m kissing you.”
You’re left stunned when Jungkook flips the both of you, his own back hitting the mattress and now you’re on top of him. He places his hands on your hips, a smirk on his lips. “It’ll be easier for you this way. I’ll let you take the lead.”
There’s a tension - one sided - when you lean down to his own neck.
“You’re still shy. It’s just me.” Jungkook sighs.
 It was easier for him to say. He wasn’t the virgin - or the closed off one that has been homeschooled. The only friend she kept was Jungkook, and his friends, but mainly Jungkook. There was no one she could go to that was the same sex that she could vent to about her frustrations. 
“Just let loose, Y/N. We’re friends. There’s nothing you can do that’ll make me view you differently.”
You try your best, even closing your eyes in hopes that’d be better. Your lips place themselves at the nape of Jungkook’s neck, and ever so gently did you kiss him. You allowed your hands to rub softly on his bare shoulders, kissing down his neck until you got to his collarbone.
Jungkook hums to himself, his cock twitching to be let loose from his underwear. 
You were adjusting - only a bit - but you’d soon be fully accepting. Jungkook allows his hands to dip from your waist and he grabs your ass fully in his grasp.
You swallow, hiding back the surprised gasp. You don’t want Jungkook to think you don’t trust him - because you do. You don’t want to appear utterly shy and closed off. You were older than Jungkook and he had to be the one to show you what life was like, as sad as it was.
“Okay. Now kiss me.” 
You nod your head. You want to avoid Jungkook’s gaze, but he doesn’t falter. “You’ll have to look at me eventually, Y/N.” Jungkook murmurs. 
“I know.” you murmur back, and now meet his eyes. Jungkook smiles when you do, and his head lifts slightly.
Your head dips down to capture his lips in yours once more. There’s a fire running through you this time at the feeling - no longer hesitant or awkward to kiss him. It felt…normal; as if this is something the two of you always did. 
Jungkook’s teeth catch your bottom lip and he lightly tugs. “Let loose.” he whispers, and then dives into your mouth again. This time, his tongue pushes past your teeth and meets your own, it’s warm and slimy, but it causes you to moan.
Jungkook’s hands grip your ass, keeping you firmly against his erection. He rubs up your sides for a moment, then on your back. His hands are now on your bra and he appears to be swift in unhooking it.
“Kookie…” you murmur against his lips.
“It’s okay.” Jungkook responds. “You trust me, remember?”
You nod, but trust doesn’t help with your self–consciousness. 
Jungkook tugs at your bra until it’s fully off of you. He disgards it, bare hands now taking your breast entirely. He doesn't care how heavy he’s breathing, or how rough his hands squeeze your breast.
“My pretty girl.” Jungkook praises.
 It’s weird hearing it - for you at least.
 Jungkook rarely compliments you - not because he doesn’t think you are, but because he never really has a reason to. He sees you the same everyday - his best friend who he has breakfast, occasionally lunch and dinner with. You’re the same Y/N that he shares movie nights with where the two of you cuddle and laugh at whatever was on the screen. 
Now, however, Jungkook has to compliment you. He has to let you know how beautiful you are now - a woman. You grew into your womanly curves over the years, hiding it behind loose clothing, but never truly hiding it. You never hid from him; occasionally wearing shorts that showed your legs and the roundness of your ass, or tank-tops that made your breast appear more plump.
You yelp when Jungkook pinches your nipple. He chuckles at your reaction. “So responsive.” he says, more to himself than to you. 
“W-What-”
Jungkook’s tongue licks on your nipple, shuddering at feeling. He couldn’t help but to bring it entirely into his mouth, tongue twirling and suckling on it while his free hand pinches the other. There’s a euphoric feeling engulfing him right now. Yes, he did think about you sexually at times - he was a man and he couldn’t help it. But this was far better than any feeling, any thought or dream he’s ever had. 
“Does it feel good?” Jungkook manages to say, popping your nipple from his mouth to just engulf the other one.
“Yes.”
You don’t intend to sound so soft and meek, moaning against Jungkook. But you couldn’t hide it any longer. You can feel the wetness between your legs, arousal pooling out - and Jungkook’s grinding didn’t make it any better.
“You can talk to me, Y/N. You can tell me how  much you like it. How I make you feel.” 
Jungkook kisses both of your nipples softly. 
“I-I don’t know what to say.”
“Tell me how you feel.” Jungkook repeats. “Here,” his right hand drops your breast and without warning, he slaps your ass. The sound echoes, as does you shriek. “I love the way your ass feels.” he then squeezes it in the palm of his hands. “I love the sweet moans coming from those pretty lips of yours.” he continues. 
You’re hot, Jungkook’s words cause a new sensation to run through you - nerves running through your body and meeting exactly between your legs. 
“It feels good when you touch me.” you say, admitting even if you want nothing more than to hide. 
“Yeah?” Jungkook lightly laughs. He squeezes your ass again. “What else?”
You huff, this time now hiding your face. Your head is between his shoulder and neck.
“It’s okay, pretty girl. Just tell me.” Jungkook encourages. “You trust me like I trust you.”
You sigh. Jungkook was going to be the death of you - you were going to die with embarrassment.
“I like the way you look.” 
Jungkook, again, is swift with his movement. He’s once more on top of you. He’s now forcing you to look at him - as if you weren’t embarrassed enough.
You go to cover yourself, but that wasn’t something Jungkook was going to allow. 
“Go on, Y/N.” Jungkook places a quick peck on your lips before he kisses down your neck to your collarbone. 
Your breath is shaky - but it was all Jungkook. His hands rub along your sides as his lips send kisses between your breasts, going lower and lower. “You make me feel…different.”
Jungkook’s lips are now on your stomach. “What’s different?”
“Wet…?”
Jungkook groans. His fingers are hooked between your panties and he wants nothing more than to remove them and dive in, but he’d remain calm for now.
“Look at me, Y/N.”
You hesitated. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you’re unsure what Jungkook had in store for you. 
You do, however, and Jungkook is now directly between your legs. Your thighs quiver at the sight. 
“What do you want me to do?” Jungkook asks, and before you can answer, he places a single kiss upon your clothed clit.
Your throat tightens.
Jungkook wasn’t going to stop. He wanted to hear you speak - hear your thoughts, whatever moans you had in you. He didn’t want you to be shy - not with him. He wasn’t a stranger and who else should be the one to take your virginity than him?
Not Hoseok.
Not Namjoon.
Not Jimin - none of his friends.
Just Jungkook.
Dare he say he was entitled to it - you were his best friend. He was there for whatever you needed him to be; and this was one thing you didn’t come to him for (not at first). You wanted his assistance in finding you someone. The thought still upsets him.
“Kookie.” you sigh, hands crashing to your face. 
“So shy.” Jungkook tsks. His hands grip your waist and he drags you to the edge of the bed, him falling to his knees before you. “I’ll take the lead.”
You feel your panties being tugged off. You’re unsure of what to do or say - you knew you had to keep breathing or you’d pass out. The coolness of the air hits you and now you fully accept that you’re naked for Jungkook, completely bare before his eyes to see.
You’re so wet, Jungkook notes, arousal coating your lips and thighs. The thought of how excited you’ve been and nothing has happened yet makes him groan, anticipating what's to come.
Your throat releases a gasp and instantly, your legs clench shut, caging Jungkook in.
“S-Sorry, i-”
“It’s okay, Y/N. Relax.” Jungkook laughs, a gleeful tone in his voice. He had done nothing but flick your clit with his tongue. “Watch me, okay?”
You nod your head.
Jungkook hooks his hands right on your thighs, holding them in a firm grip so you wouldn’t be easily reactive - not without him stopping you. He dips his head back between your legs, tongue dipping between your folds.
Your eyes flutter, unable to truly focus on Jungkook like he wants you to. 
The sight alone is filthy - his head bobbing back and forth while his tongue assaults your clit. Occasionally, his eyes would dart up to capture your reaction, satisfied that you no longer hid your moans from him.
But the noises Jungkook made were another thing. He suckles on your clit, completely ravishing you as if it was the finest meal. He’s animalistic, not caring. He would draw his head back and spit, then continue his assault upon your clit.
“Kookie, I-I, you need to stop.” you try to get away from Jungkook, but he doesn’t allow it. If anything, Jungkook holds you even tighter. You were going to cum, of course, never truly experiencing a man going down on you. Your stomach churns and you feel like you are going to explode. “Kookie, please stop…”
Jungkook’s eyes flicker up at you. Your eyes are snapped shut and there’s a few droplets trailing down your cheeks. Jungkook grunts into your pussy. His fingernails dig into your naked flesh, his tongue laying flat against your clit. He continues to ravish you, not caring about your pleas - it was obvious you wanted more and was far too inexperienced to understand it.
Jungkook dives deeper and deeper, your cries only fueling him for more. Your arousal coats the bottom half of his face entirely. 
There was another attempt to remove yourself, buckling your hips, but Jungkook only shoves you back down upon the bed. Your toes are curling and you’re unable to see straight. There’s a tightness in your stomach that’s utterly unfamiliar to you.
“I’m not going to stop.”
Jungkook’s voice is deeper - deepest you’ve ever heard it.
“Not until you cum.”
 Jungkook’s right hand removes itself from holding your thigh, but that only means he’s holding the other tighter. 
Your back arches when you feel his fingers at your entrance.
“I can’t-”
“You will.” 
Jungkook doesn’t give a warning before entering his finger’s inside of you. You jump at the foreign feeling. You swallow back and shriek.
“So tight.” Jungkook murmurs to himself.
 Two fingers is all you can handle for now. That doesn’t mean Jungkook goes easy on you. He pumps inside of you vigorously, your walls clenching around his digits. Each time he hits a deeper spot that has you jerking.
“I know it feels good, Y/N. My pretty girl.”
You can’t speak, but Jungkook doesn’t care. He pumps and pumps until you’re cumming all over him, arousal splashing onto the hardwood floors of his bedroom. 
You’re a crying twitching mess, whimpering to yourself. Jungkook removes his fingers, satisfied with your appearance.
“I could fuck you right now. You’re so wet, Y/N.”
You exhale, eyes snapping open. “Kookie, I-”
“Don’t tell me you can’t take me.”
Jungkook pushes down his underwear and you freeze.
You’ve never seen Jungkook naked before, never going past witnessing him shirtless.
Now Jungkook is as nude as you, cock erect and hard. His tip is red and leaking with pre-cum, the shaft twitching in anticipation.
“I can’t.” you cry, now dwelling on the idea of having sex with the man.
Jungkook snickers. He grips his cock and slaps the tip against your wet clit. So wet, he thinks. Wet and warm, completely aroused because of him.
“You were willing to fuck my friends.”
Jungkook rubs the tip against your clit in slow circular motions. It makes a wet and sloppy sound as he does.
“They don’t love you, Y/N. Not like I do.”
You twitch at the feeling, overstimulated enough, even if it did feel good.
“Don’t you love me, Y/N?” Jungkook’s eyes don't leave your clit. He continues to tap and circle the tip of his cock against it, the sight beautiful.
“I do…”
“Then why do you keep denying me pleasure?”
Jungkook removes his hand from his cock to place it upon your hips, keeping you in place. He begins to thrust forward, sliding his entire cock against your clit.
“I allowed you to cum, haven’t i?” Jungkook grunts. “Milked my fingers like a little whore. But you won’t let me fuck you.”
Jungkook’s words cause you to gasp - that and the way his cock feels against your already stimulated clit. 
Jungkook’s open’s his mouth, a trail of saliva dripping right onto your clit, not because you needed it - you were literally dripping - but just because he wanted to. In his eyes, spitting upon you was an act of marking his territory and after he fucked you - and he was going to regardless - he would assure that only he would be the one fucking you afterwards; always and forever.
Jungkook continues to rub, his pace quickening. 
“Do you think another man would have given you the satisfaction?” Jungkook hisses. “They would’ve fucked you and left, Y/N. This is why I’m here. I love you, my pretty girl…” his tone softens. “...so wet and ready for me. You’ll let me have you, right, Y/N? You’ll let me be the one who takes your virginity?”
Slowly, you nod your head. Jungkook was someone you loved greatly. He was a man and understood how men think - you couldn’t be upset with him now. “Okay…” 
Jungkook smiles wide, full set of teeth shining at you. “My pretty girl. You’re always so good for me. Give me your hand.”
You do as Jungkook tells you to do, and he guides your hand to touch his cock. It twitches in your grip.
“Tighten your grip.” Jungkook demands and groans when you do. “Okay, baby…now center it at your pussy.”
You’re being so obedient for him, Jungkook thinks. He watches as you do what he tells you, the tip of his cock at the entrance of your hole. “Good girl.” Jungkook mumbles.
“Don’t you need to wear a condom?”
Jungkook wants to laugh at your words. “Condoms are for people who have one night stands. Why would I wear a condom with you?” he asks, a tilt of his head. He had no intention of allowing you to fuck another man, so him not wearing a condom was alright.
You widen your eyes. “Pregnancy…?”
Again, Jungkook laughs. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, only stares into your wide eyes. He had no intention of impregnating you now, but if it happened, then it did. That only meant that it’s what the universe wanted.
“You know I love you, Y/N.” Jungkook says.
“I love you, too.” you respond.
Simpering, Jungkook nods. “I know.” he says, and then without warning, he enters you whole. There’s no warming upm Jungkook thinks, the faster he gets it over with, the faster pleasure will come for you.
When your mouth opens to shriek, Jungkook silences you with his lips. His hips snap inside of you, unable to stop. So tight, he thinks, fully milking his cock with your essence. It’s as though his cock fit perfectly inside of you; like a puzzle piece coming together to complete a set.
The pain is excruciating and you’re unable to pull away from Jungkook. His grip on you was intense, fingers bruising into your skin. 
The sound of skin slapping is loud in the room, echoing off the walls. 
“My pretty girl.” grumbles Jungkook when he releases your lips. “Thank you for trusting me, Y/N.”
The pain shoots throughout your body, but hearing those words from Jungkook was worth it to you. You blink away the tears so you can focus on his face.
“Soon the pain will go away, and you’ll love the way I fuck you.”
You nod. You trusted Jungkook.
It takes a while for the pleasure to come, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t. Jungkook hits your sweet spot, slamming you against his bed with each thrust. Your moans are loud for him, so sweet and melodic - he knew you had it in you to let loose.
“Feels good, pretty girl?” Jungkook questions, the question rhetorical. He knows by the way you clench around him that it does - that and your high pitched moans. 
“Feels…so…good…” you grunt, panting along with each powerful thrust.
“Good.”
Jungkook removes himself just so he can turn you around, chest firmly against his mattress. He enters you once more, hitting even deeper than before.
Your eyes snap shut and your arms shoot out, gripping the bed sheets for support. Whatever you once imagined sex would be like didn’t give it any justice. Sex with Jungkook was a pleasurable feeling you’d never forget - you’re unsure how you’d ever be able to go back to masturbating once this was over. 
Both of Jungkook’s hands place themselves on yours, entangling your hangers with his. His lips kiss your back, pounding inside of you with such passion. 
There it was again, the churning feeling in your stomach.
“I feel you, baby.” Jungkook pants. It’s as if you never want him to stop, creaming his cock like your life depended on it. “Go ahead and cum for me, pretty girl.”
You groan, shaking your head at how good you felt. 
“I love you, Kookie.” you murmur so low that it’s barely audible, but Jungkook hears it loud and clear.
 It causes Jungkook to grind into you deeper and deeper, feeling himself come undone at just words. You told him those three words many times before, but now it felt different. Intimate. This was something he’s never heard during sex - and if there was a chance he did, he wouldn’t care. 
You were who Jungkook loved; his best friend since childhood.
You were the one who Jungkook wanted to hear the words from.
Jungkook’s cumming, his heaving breaths ticking the skin of your back. He doesn't bother to pull out of you, instead he milks your walls completely with his seed, shuddering with complete bliss.
Jungkook won’t regret it - cumming inside of you felt right. It wasn’t as if anyone else would be.
“My pretty girl.” Jungkook coos, pulling out of you to tuck you further into his bed. He lays beside you, embracing you from behind. “You did so good for me.”
Your heart swells at the compliment, your eyes heavy with slumber.
Jungkook holds you tight as you drift to sleep, satisfied that you were here with him. 
Not Hoseok or Namjoon or anyone else -  but him.
 After all, he was the only one who truly loved you for who you are and didn’t see you as just a hole to fill - he wasn’t like those other men out in the world. No, Jungkook was better than any man you could ever think about being with. He proceeds to place a kiss upon your temple, satisfied that you were his and his alone.
idol version
4K notes · View notes
coco-loco-nut · 5 days
Text
Gen Z
pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader
summary: everyone seems to forget that Max is 26
a/n: not my favorite, but it’s something i’ve been working on for a while there will be no part two
requests open masterlist
—————
Breaking up with Kelly was extremely difficult for Max to do. Despite not being in love with her anymore, he was very aware of what would happen to P. Max knew it was better to break up than stay just because of P, so he bit the bullet. The next few months were lonely, having to readjust to being alone in Monaco with just his cats.
That’s when you came barreling into his life. Only two years younger than Max, you were a breath of fresh air for him. He really didn’t expect to fall for you, not so quick anyway.
You knew a bit about Formula One, but it was more to the extent that your home hosted a race, some drivers lived in the city, and your hairdresser’s son was a driver. It didn’t phase you when Max told you about his career and fame, you just thought the Dutchman was cute.
“Men who own cats are major green flags,” you told him over text when you first started dating. That might’ve been what really made Max fall for you. You made him feel young, understandably so. He was 19 when he first met Kelly, and she was 28.
Max taught you about the races, you helped him connect with his inner Gen Z. He taught you Dutch and how to game, you taught him slang and pop culture. The two of you were sitting on the couch a month before the Monaco GP, watching Cars of course, when Max asked you to join him at the race.
“Of course, anything for Lightning McQueen,” you squeeze his hand. You knew from TikTok that Charles, your boyfriend’s work husband, was Lightning McQueen, but how could that not be Max.
“Kachow,” Max says causing you to laugh. He has been watching the TikToks and reels you send him, usually something formula one or cars related.
Max is watching Cars 2 with you when he points out each driver in the movie. You store the knowledge in the back of your mind for when you watch classic races and Max explains things to you. You feel sufficiently ready for Monaco.
“Lewis, this is my girlfriend, Y/n,” Max introduces you to the Mercedes driver. You look at him, star stuck.
“I loved you in Cars,” you blurt out, causing Lewis to laugh and Max to hide his face in embarrassment. Max isn’t surprised, but he can’t believe this is how your first interaction is going. Lewis is just happy you aren’t with Max because he is a driver.
“Thank you, how old are you?” Lewis asks, ready to feel old.
“24, two years younger than Maxie,” you smile lovingly at your boyfriend.
“I forgot how young you actually are,” Lewis’s unspoken words hang in the air between him and Max. Now that you are dating someone closer to your own age.
Lewis’s statement seemed to be the general consensus when everyone saw you with him. Max looked and acted like he was 26. He was using slang you taught him, he was making pop culture references that he likely wouldn’t have known otherwise. He was getting to experience his twenty’s like he should have been, not as if he was much older than he was.
Lando was the most excited to meet you, not only were you his age, but you brought out Max’s inner child that Lando never could.
“I’m stealing your girlfriend,” Lando tells Max, wanting to claim you as his best friend.
“No,” Max deadpans.
“What if Lando is my bestie?” you ask Max, who can’t say no to you.
“Then I guess that’s okay,” Max kisses your temple.
“OMG, McLaren is doing another hide and seek video, you two should join,” Lando proposes.
“That actually sounds fun,” Max says, looking at you for confirmation.
“I’m in,” you smile, letting Lando lead the way.
The video is a hit, the fans are loving this version of Max. Max is loving this version of him too, for once he doesn’t feel like he has to grow up faster than he should.
“Stay away from her, she’s no good for you. Act like a grown up,” you overhear Jos tell Max as you come back to the garage from hospitality. You have yet to meet Jos, Max made it very clear that he doesn’t want you near his dad. The memes the two of you send back and forth are a good enough reason why, so you hang back.
“What do you mean? I am. I’m 26, why should I act like I’m 40? I am happier with her than I was with Kelly,” Max argues back, you hold yourself back.
“World Champions are serious, mature. Quit acting like Lando Norris and more like an adult,” Jos is seething.
“Ask Max to come back here, say the team needs him or something,” you as an engineer when you notice Jos getting angrier.
“Then why am I leading by a heavy margin already. You just can’t handle that I am putting myself first. What would you even know about being a champion? You never won a race!” Max yells. The engineer quickly cuts in and leads Max to you.
“You gagged him, baby. Are you okay?” Max hugs you, you just rub his back as he regulates his breathing.
“He’s an opp, for real,” Max mutters into your shoulder, causing you to snort with laughter.
“God, I love you,” you can’t contain the laughter. Max joins in, your smile is infectious.
“I did use it right, no?” Max asks between the laughter.
“You did, I just wasn’t expecting it,” you take a deep breath, calming down.
“No cap?”
“Alright, you are using too much. Where is old man Max, this is freaky,” you take a step back, the smile that remains on your face betrays your words.
“You got me into my gen z era, you get the consequences,” Max pulls you back into him as you groan in annoyance.
“I love you too,” he laughs, peppering your face with kisses.
And when a journalist is brave enough to ask about the shift in Max? He’s always eager to talk about you.
“My girlfriend forced me to watch hours of YouTube compilations about formula one memes. We are always sending different memes to each other, she definitely helps me remember to laugh more,” Max gushes.
“I guess we all forget that you aren’t nearly forty,” the journalist nods. Max answers a few more questions before finding you in his drivers room. He lays down on the couch, his head on your lap.
“What’s on your mind?” you run your hand through Max’s hair.
“Have I changed that much?” he asks, his blue eyes looking up at you.
“I don’t think so, I think you’ve just started being yourself around more people. You are still the same Max that I first met and fell in love with, everyone else is just seeing that Max,” you are confused about the question, but answer him. Max doesn’t reply, he just nuzzles closer to you.
“I like this version of me,” he says into your shirt a few minutes later, you keep playing with his hair.
“I’m glad, but I like every version of you, Max. Even old man Max,” you smile as he sits up.
“Old man? How about I show you how far from true that is,” there is a look in his eye that tells you that you just started something.
“And how will you do that?” you decide to entertain him as he slips his hands under your shirt.
“I don’t think I need to tell you.”
3K notes · View notes
atlabeth · 3 months
Text
geyser
series masterlist
pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader
summary: percy learns about the first girl luke castellan ever loved.
a/n: this is a lil sad. sorry about that. but i really like it and it came out of nowhere in like 2 days so i hope you enjoy despite the sadness. title from the mitski song
wc: 6.5k
warning(s): major character death; not shown but hangs over the whole fic. angst made angstier by fluffy flashbacks. mostly told through percy’s pov but includes luke, annabeth, and reader povs
also if you saw this before on another account DONT WORRY... that account was also me. im just doing some stuff behind the scenes right now as i figure stuff out lol i promise no plagiarism is going on
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Percy thought that his head might explode. 
He didn’t know how he was still walking, honestly. His mom died, he killed a— no, the— Minotaur, all the Greek myths were real and his dad was one of them, and now he had to deal with that freak accident with Clarisse and the toilets. 
At least he would be ready next time she tried to beat him up. Percy had been the new kid enough to know there would be a next time.
All he could do was stare at the Minotaur horn in his hands, the only sign that what happened outside the border was real. The horn in his hands and the hole in his heart. 
Percy swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d been thrown into the deep end, and the only thing on his mind was when he would start to drown. 
“Hey.” Percy looked up to see the counselor he’d met earlier with Annabeth—Luke. He tossed a ziploc bag at him and he caught it, taking a moment to look at what was in it. 
“I stole you some toiletries from the camp store,” he explained. “Thought it might make you feel more at home.” 
“…Thanks.” He didn’t know if Luke was joking, but the damage had already been done. And it was the nicest thing someone had done for him so far. He set it down next to his Minotaur shoebox. “Is this the best that it gets?” 
Luke’s lips quirked up in a slight smile. “For now. We’re a little crowded, if you couldn’t tell.” 
“Just a little bit.” Percy stood up from his sleeping bag and worked out the knot in his shoulder. “Where’s your bed? Assuming you have one.” 
“I couldn’t wrangle all these cats without some back support,” he said, and he pointed to a bed in the corner. It was the only one on its own without a bunk, and he had a fair amount of decorations. Counselor privileges, he figured. Percy walked over, Luke trailing behind him. 
“Nice place,” he said. Percy picked up the Yankee’s cap on his bedside table and nodded as he looked back at him. “Nice taste.” 
“It’s for Annabeth,” Luke said. “She wanted us to match.” 
Percy nodded again in approval. “Good taste for both of you.”
Luke had various other things around — an alarm clock knocked over next to the baseball cap, a huskie sticker on the wall half-scraped off, a poster for an album he didn’t recognize. 
But the thing that caught his eye was a polaroid hanging on the wall, surrounded by a smattering of others varying in size. 
The first one had to be an old picture—Luke didn’t have his scar, and the biggest smile stretched across his face. He had a girl close with an arm slung around her waist, and she might’ve been smiling even more than Luke. A bright energy emanated around her, something that must have transferred through the picture, because Percy found himself feeling a little better just looking at her. He wondered if she was a camper. 
His eyes flicked to the next picture, which was another one of Luke and that girl. They were both laughing as she tried to put a blue hat on Luke’s head, and he protested with a hand on her wrist. They were in the forefront of a baseball game, Percy noticed.
There were other pictures, too—Luke, a girl dressed all punk, and what looked like a young version of Annabeth, most notably—but a majority of them were either Luke and that girl, or the girl all on her own. In every single one, she beamed brighter than the sun. 
Percy pointed at the picture of Luke and the girl at the baseball game, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Who’s that?”
That seemed to catch Luke off-guard, his lips parting for a moment as if he wanted to say something. It barely took him any time to get back on track, but Percy found himself frowning. 
“That’s…” Luke cleared his throat, wet his lips, shook his head. “A friend. A very good friend.”
“Does she go here?” Percy asked. 
“She did.” 
He frowned. “Where is she, then?” 
“Percy—” Luke’s voice was strained, but he didn’t really notice as he went on. 
“I didn’t see her around,” he continued, “and you look pretty close.” 
Luke blinked a couple times, and Percy swore he could see the telltale glimmer of tears starting in his eyes. A muscle worked in his jaw, and suddenly Percy was worried that he’d said something horribly wrong. He had a talent for that, it seemed. 
Fortunately, he was saved by the bell—conch shell?—and something like relief flooded through Luke’s expression. Tension still coiled in his body. 
“Come on,” he said, that camp counselor smile coming back as he put his hand on Percy’s shoulder and guided him away from the enclave. “That means dinner’s about to start.”
Percy’s frown deepened as curiosity won out again. “Was she your—”
“You don’t wanna be late,” Luke continued, ignoring his attempt. “I assume you’re pretty hungry after two days spent out?”
Well, that only made him want to push harder. But Percy figured he wouldn’t get anything out of him—especially not now. 
“…Yeah,” Percy said. “Starving.”
An odd look flickered across his face, but again, it only lasted for a second before he was back to normal. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Eleven! Fall in!” 
Percy was at the back of the line by virtue of him being the new kid, and he found himself looking back at that picture of Luke and the girl. He didn’t know why, but something drew him to her. Before Percy could think about it more, the line was moving and his growling stomach drew his attention away. 
He would have plenty of time to ask Luke about it later. 
Or rather, ask him and piss off the only person who’d tried to be his friend so far. 
…Gods. 
Maybe he was going to drown sooner than he thought. 
-
“Luke—” 
“No!” 
“Luke, please!” 
“Annabeth will kill me if she knows—” 
“She won’t know!” 
“Alright, alright— stay still, you two!” 
Your mother laughed from behind the camera as you and Luke fought with each other, you trying your damnedest to get your Red Sox cap on his head as he tried his damnedest to stop you. The frantic laughter on both sides made it a little difficult for either of you to succeed in your quest, but eventually, you got the rock up the hill and the hat on his head. 
“Take the picture, Mom!” you exclaimed, pulling Luke even closer by his arms so he couldn’t get it off. “I need the proof!” 
“I knew this was a bad idea,” Luke groaned, staring at the camera as you wrapped your arm around his side and leaned into him. He could already imagine your victorious smile, brighter than the sun beating down on them in the stadium, and just the thought of it made one of his own flit across his lips. 
“Oh, shut up, Castellan,” you said. “You chose to come to this game. Everyone’s gonna know you’re a Red Sox fan now.”
“You said you wouldn’t tell her!” Luke defended, wrenching his arms free of your control to take the hat off his head. “I don’t even care about baseball!” 
“You care so much about it,” you said cloyingly, “and you’re ride or die for the Boston Red Sox.” 
“If you say a single word—” 
“Okay, kids!” Your mother pointed at the seats next to her. “The game’s about to start—you can keep arguing, but only if you sit down so I can see.” 
“Sorry, Mom.” You grinned at her as you pulled Luke over to your seats—they were a step up from nosebleeds, but they were the ones closest to the balcony so you could at least peer over the railing down to the diamond.
“It’s alright, sweetheart.” She glanced at Luke with a smile, and he could really see where you got it from. “We’ve gotta make him a fan somehow.” 
“I guess I can live with the brand.” Luke set the cap back on your head once you were seated, purposefully pulling the brim a little over your eyes, and he smiled at you. “Even though it looks better on you, anyways.” 
“You just don’t have what it takes to be a Red Sox fan in the heart of Yank territory,” you mused, pushing the hat back up so you could see. “It’s fine.” 
Luke rolled his eyes, but he could hardly bite back his smile. 
“I am glad you came, though,” you said, glancing back at him. “I’m glad you came with me in the first place. This is gonna be the best semester.”
“Thanks for having me,” Luke said. “It’s… it’s been a while since I’ve left camp.” 
“Fingers crossed for no monster attacks, eh?” You held up your hand. “At least, not during the game. I could live with it happening any other time.” 
“Don’t speak it into existence,” your mom said. “We’re going to have a monster-free school year.” 
To humor her, you made a claw over your heart and pushed out. She hummed in satisfaction, and you looked over at Luke. “It’s gonna be fine.” 
“Yeah,” he said. “Because two kids like us aren’t gonna draw any attention.” 
“Oh, I know we will,” you said. “But I know it’ll be fine.” 
Luke frowned. “How can you be so sure?” 
You shrugged with a smile. “I’ve got you.”
And in that moment, he was thankful for the freakish heat that honestly made no sense in the spring—at least it covered up any sign of what your words did to him. 
Luke thought you were joking when you asked him if he wanted to come back home with you for the school year. He didn’t know why you wanted to go back in the first place, being a Big Three kid that apparently had a death wish, but the thought of him leaving camp was almost inconceivable. 
Even after you assured him you weren’t joking, he still wasn’t sure. He was on the run with you for three years, then… 
Well, he couldn’t think about it for too long. But Luke had been on the outskirts of regular society for so long, doing nothing but fighting for his life, that he didn’t know if he could actually function at a normal school.
But it felt right for you two to get some normal time together after you were separated for so long. It took him a semester to decide, but one day during your usual Iris message conversations, he told you he’d love to spend the rest of the year in Boston with you. Luke still remembered the grin you wore, your disbelieving but victorious cheers, the apology you yelled back at your mother for your noise. 
Luke watched you as you talked with your mom, discussing Boston’s chances and player statistics and baseball jargon he didn’t think he’d ever understand, and he knew he would sit through a thousand Red Sox games if it meant he would get to keep seeing your smile.
You must have felt his eyes on you, because you glanced over at him. “Are you okay?” 
Luke smiled. Gods, he was so glad you were here. 
“Never better.” 
-
“That one nearly got me,” Luke said. 
Percy huffed as he picked up his sword from the ground—he was pretty sure he would officially lose his mind if Luke disarmed him with that stupid move one more time. One benefit to the Hermes cabin being too scared to associate with him after getting claimed was that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself in front of other people. 
“Maybe I can only beat you when I pour water on myself,” he said. 
Luke chuckled as he took a bottle from the cooler on the side and held it up. “Wanna try?” 
He shook his head. “I think my arms will fall off if I keep going with you.” 
He tipped his shoulder. “Fair.” 
Percy stared at the ground as Luke gathered himself, trying to put the free range thoughts roaming around his head in order. It didn’t help that he’d gained a million questions after Poseidon claimed him, and it didn’t help that there’s been a newest addition to his dream last night. 
He still felt strange asking Luke about it, but he had to know more about her. Percy didn’t know why it felt like his mission to find out who this mysterious girl was, or why he felt that strange connection to her. Maybe it was the way Luke acted whenever he brought her up, maybe it was that she’d popped up in his dream next to him at the very end, maybe it was just plain old curiosity. 
“I’m not supposed to be alive,” Percy said, breaking the silence. “I could die at any time in a bunch of different horrible ways. So will you tell me more about that girl on your wall?”  
Again, Luke seemed to be caught off guard by it. Percy heard the crunch of plastic as his hand clenched ever so slightly around the bottle, and he tried to cover it up with an arched eyebrow. “Why do you want to know so badly?” 
He shrugged. What was he supposed to say? 
“I’m curious,” he decided. 
Luke huffed a dry laugh before he took a sip of water, and he stared off into the distance for a while. He did a lot of staring whenever this girl was brought up. They looked like they were best friends in those pictures, but maybe whatever they had ended badly. And if she was a demigod too…
Well, it would make sense why he didn’t want to talk about her. 
“You know that phrase about curiosity?” Luke asked. 
“And how it killed the cat?” 
He nodded, drinking some more. “It goes double for demigods.” 
“Everything else wants to kill me,” Percy said. “So curiosity’s gonna have to get in line.” 
Luke’s laugh was a little more genuine this time, and he shook his head. “I guess I can tell you a little about her. You actually probably have a right to know.” 
“Is she a half-blood?” Percy asked immediately. 
He nodded. “Yeah.” 
“Who’s her parent?” 
Luke capped his water bottle and looked at Percy for a good, long moment. His face glowed in the warm afternoon sun, his scar cast in a softer light than usual. The scar used to unnerve him, but he’d gotten used to it after weeks staring at it during sword fighting. 
“She was a child of Poseidon, Percy,” he said. “Just like you.” 
Percy felt short of breath, like Luke had just knocked his sword out of his hand and shoved him to the ground. But he stood on his own two legs that somehow still worked, and Luke hadn’t moved. 
He had a sister? 
“I have a sister?” 
“…Had,” Luke corrected. “She… she died a few years back.” 
A vice latched onto Percy’s heart. He was still having a hard time breathing. No wonder Luke always used past tense when he was talking about her. 
He had a sister, he wasn’t alone, but he was because she was dead. And if Luke was one of her friends, that meant she died young. 
Gods. 
“What about their oath?” Percy asked, trying to ignore the aching in his chest. “I’m already on thin ice for my whole existing thing. How did Poseidon get away with two kids so close to each other?” 
Luke shrugged. “I’ve never known why gods do things. Her mother was a great woman, though—I could see what drew Poseidon to her against the oath.” 
One half of Percy wanted to ask every question that kept popping into his head. The other side of him wanted to break down and cry. 
“How did you meet her?” 
“We ran into each other when we were both young,” he said. “Both child runaways, both demigods, both New Englanders—we decided to rough it out on the road together. Couldn’t be any worse than doing it on our own.”
Percy tried to imagine it. A young Luke and a younger version of that girl—maybe Percy’s age—living together in the wilderness and fighting monsters. Surviving off of nothing but their wit and skill, facing death each day before they’d even reached middle school. 
“It… it didn’t happen then, did it?” he asked hesitantly. 
Luke shook his head. “Couple years later. All we did was watch each other’s backs out there.” 
Percy couldn’t help himself. “What happened to her?”  
“The same thing that happens to everyone,” Luke said flatly. “There’s a reason I’m the oldest one here.” 
“That doesn’t make it better,” Percy insisted. “It— it makes it worse, Luke. You see that, right?”  
Luke stared at his empty water bottle then tossed it back into the cooler. When his gaze met Percy’s, he was shocked by how… tired he looked. Beyond exhausted—bone-weary. Percy wanted to say more, but he didn’t get the chance. 
“This isn’t good conversation,” Luke said, “and it’s getting late. You should hit the showers before dinner.” 
The sun still beat down on them, bright and angry in the sky, but Percy provided no argument. He had a lot to think about. 
Before they went their separate ways, Percy stopped and looked back at him. “I’m sorry she’s gone, Luke.” 
Luke’s gaze went unfocused for a moment, his eyes growing glossy. “So am I.” 
-
Percy sat on the floor of the Hermes cabin in the corner that used to be his, staring at his meager belongings. He had to decide what to take on his quest, which was made easier by the fact that he hardly had anything to his name. Things could always be worse, though. At least he would have a change of clothes. 
He should’ve been doing this in his own cabin, but it felt too empty, too suffocating in its silence. Eleven was still more familiar. He heard the door open and saw Luke walk in, and his eyes lit up when he saw Percy. 
“Hey,” he said. “I wanted to see you before you left. How’re you feeling pre-quest?” 
“Like the world’s about to end,” he said. 
Luke’s lips twitched into a smile as he sat on the bed across from Percy. “Understandable. It kinda is.” 
“It’s just overwhelming.” Percy shoved the unfolded clothes into his backpack. “I have to clear mine and my dad’s names and get Zeus’s bolt back, or else war will start. No pressure at all.” 
“You were chosen for a reason,” Luke said. “You may not see it, Percy, but you’ve improved a lot since you got here. If anyone can do this, I think it’s you.” 
Percy looked up at him, and he was reminded of the way their last conversation went. He was asking before he could really stop himself. 
“I could die on this quest and never see you again,” Percy said. “So could you tell me more about my sister before I go?”  
Luke smiled wistfully and sighed. “You really won’t let this go, will you?” 
“It’s not really something you just let go,” he said. “Besides, I… I saw her in my dream last night.” 
Luke’s smile faded. “You did?”  
Percy nodded. “For a split second, but I know it was her. I felt the same way I did whenever I looked at her pictures. And… it’s the second time she’s shown up.” 
He let out a long sigh and shook his head, his gaze trailing off to the wall. He always looked so much older when he talked about this girl, like he was a war veteran reminiscing on his lost love. And from what he’d gathered, it might not have been too far off. 
“I told you we ran together when we were young,” he said, and Percy nodded. “We were both nine, and it should’ve been terrible, but she had a way of making everything better. Always found the bright side of things, was always able to make me laugh.” 
“She was from Massachusetts—right in the middle of Boston.” Luke chuckled as he looked at Percy. “Huge Red Sox fan.” 
Percy grimaced. “We all make mistakes.” 
Luke smiled, though it faded a bit. “We got separated for a while, but we found each other again when I got to camp. Things were more peaceful than they are now, so she’d been claimed at camp pretty quickly. I figure Poseidon wanted her to have the protection of him openly standing behind her after what happened.” 
He frowned. “What do you mean, ‘what happened’?” 
Luke shook his head. “That would be an awful story to send you off on.” 
Percy wanted to protest, but he didn’t. Luke was probably right—Percy didn’t want to make him relive it and then have to go on a death quest right after.
“A happier part, then,” he suggested.
“She ran away from home as a kid to protect her mom, but now that she had an idea of what she was doing, she started going back to school. She invited me to stay with her during the school year one year, and I accepted. That—” Luke’s throat bobbed, and the other hand clenched into a fist— “that was when she died.” 
In his stunned silence, Luke got up and went over to his alcove. He pulled the drawer open on his bedside table and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. It must’ve been folded and crumpled a million other times in messier ways by all the creases he could see, but when Luke opened it, he could see handwriting all over the front. 
A letter. 
“We Iris messaged each other constantly while she was at school,” he said, “and we wrote back and forth when we couldn’t. This was the last letter she sent me.” 
Percy’s first instinct was to say he wouldn’t be able to read it, but he realized that he didn’t really care. These were words that his sister wrote—he would sit here the rest of the day forcing sentences to make sense if that was what it took. 
So he took the letter when Luke offered it. 
To the one and only Luke Castellan, 
My mom said yes! After a very long interrogation (she now knows basically everything about you) and a million promises that you would be as careful as possible and that you were good enough at sword fighting to take down anything that could come after us, she said you can spend the year here. We spent a couple hours every day making my mom’s study into a guest room, so you have a place to stay.
I’m an idiot that didn’t bring enough drachmas so that’s why I have to send this letter—hopefully it gets to you soon enough, because we’re gonna come get you a week before my winter break is over. Mom is letting me drive down because she says I have to get my permit soon. It makes sense that my first big test is getting to you. If we don’t make it, it’s because we died in a fiery crash. 
Just kidding. I’m a great driver. But tell me some of your favorite songs when you reply and I’ll burn a CD for the ride—I figured out how to use LimeWire. Oh, and throw in a couple drachmas with the envelope so I can Iris message you next time. I miss your face and your voice, and my hand is cramping up writing all of this. 
But this is so exciting! I can’t wait to introduce you to all my friends at school, and show you my favorite places in the city, and make you into a Red Sox fan. And you can come to my soccer games— I’m the greatest forward there is. 
Jokes aside, I’m going to make sure you have the best time. We’ll spend every second together, Luke. We’re gonna make up for the time we lost. 
I can’t wait to see you again.
Your hurricane.  
It took Percy a long time to get through it with the words swimming all over, and it didn’t help that his vision had grown blurry. 
Tears, he realized as he blinked, and he did it again to make sure they wouldn’t fall. He couldn’t cry in front of Luke, not over a girl he didn’t even know—even if she was his sister. But maybe he was grieving that—the fact that he would never get to know her. 
“God, man. I— I’m sorry.” Percy couldn’t think of anything else to say. “She sounds like she was great.” 
Luke couldn’t even manage a smile this time as he stared at the wall. Percy was surprised he could even talk to him about it. 
“She was,” he murmured. “You would’ve liked her. And gods,” this time, a bit of a smile broke through despite it all, “she would have loved a little brother.” 
“I’m gonna make her proud on this quest,” Percy vowed. “I’m gonna clear our dad’s name for her.”
Something in Luke’s gaze had changed—sadness, almost regret. “You’re a good kid, Percy. I hope your quest doesn’t change that.” 
I hope I come back alive, he wanted to say. But given the topic matter, he didn’t. Percy carefully folded the letter back up and handed it to Luke. 
“Thank you for telling me about her, man,” Percy said. “I… I know it can’t be easy.”
Luke let out a shuddering breath as he stared at the closed letter—Percy wondered how many times he must have sat in this same position, reading her words. “No better way to honor her memory than helping her brother.” He glanced at Percy. “I see a lot of her in you.” 
He’d been wondering if he had anything in common with her. Percy felt a sudden flare of anger shoot through him—it wasn’t fair that she was dead. Poseidon was a god, and she was a teenager. He should have saved her. 
Percy’s mouth was drier than a desert. A part of him wanted to curl up in a ball and sob over the sister he never got the chance to know, but the other part of him knew—from what little Luke had told him about her—that she wouldn’t want him to. 
“I should get going,” Percy said, standing up from the floor. “We have to leave for the quest soon, and Annabeth and Grover are probably wondering where I am, and…” 
Percy trailed off, and Luke nodded in understanding. He turned around and took one of the photos off the wall—one of you alone in the middle of a park, wearing a bucket hat and absolutely beaming. 
“You deserve to have a part of her with you,” he said. “For good luck.” 
He felt himself choking up, and he pushed it down as he accepted the photo. “Thanks, man. It means a lot.”
“Good luck, Percy,” Luke said. “You’ve got a lot of people rooting for you.”
Percy found himself studying the picture of you once he made it outside, trying to memorize your face. With your wide, infectious smile that emanated pure sunlight, he could have mistaken you for an Apollo kid. But when he looked at you, he got that same warmth that he felt every time he imagined his father. 
“I won’t let you down,” he murmured. “I promise.” 
-
After sleeping in his train seat for half the day, Percy vowed to never complain about his bed in Cabin Three again. He was gonna be going down to the Underworld with permanent cricks in his neck. 
Grover was still sound asleep—Percy envied him for how easily it came to him in the worst conditions—but thankfully, Annabeth wasn’t. Her gaze was focused on the view as their train chugged along. 
Percy cleared his throat in a flawless attempt at getting her attention, and it worked. 
“You’re awake,” she said. 
“Unfortunately.” Percy sighed. “How much longer do you think it’ll be?” 
“Another day, at least,” she said. “And we’ve got a layover in St. Louis.” 
“St. Louis,” he hummed. “Nice.” 
They sat in silence for a while—there wasn’t much to talk about when they were coming off of two— or was it three, now?—near-death experiences. But eventually, Annabeth cleared her throat, taking a page from his book, and it worked again. 
“There— there’s probably something you should know,” Annabeth said, and that worked even better than clearing her throat. “You’re not the only Big Three kid to come through Camp Half-blood lately.” 
“I know,” he said. “Grover and Luke explained it.” 
Her eyes widened slightly and she leaned forward in her seat. “Luke did?” 
“…Yeah. You all already told me about Thalia.” Percy glanced away, suddenly feeling a chill in the train car. “Luke told me about my sister.” 
Annabeth went silent. 
“It’s okay,” he said. “I kind of annoyed Luke until he told me. Doesn’t really seem like a subject people at camp like to talk about.” 
“I’m just surprised he did,” she murmured. “They were… they were close, Percy. Her death destroyed him—Thalia and your sister. All of it’s complicated.”  
“Yeah,” he sighed, “I got some of that.” 
“I only knew her for a year at camp, but everyone loved her,” she said. “She was nice. Popular. Always helped when she could, always had the biggest, most infectious smile on her face.” Annabeth looked down at her hands. “She didn’t deserve the fate she got.” 
Percy didn’t think he’d ever grieved so much for someone he never knew. “But her and Luke—were they…?” 
“Yeah,” Annabeth said, “they were a thing, later on.” 
That seemed to be all she wanted to say on the matter. Percy decided not to push. 
“How did you meet her?” he asked. 
Annabeth’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I met her on the day I thought I would die.”
-
For the first time in her life, Annabeth Chase couldn’t think. 
It had all happened so fast. One second she was running with Luke and Thalia and Grover, praying to her mother and any other gods that would listen to make the horde of monsters let up even a centimeter.
The next, she’d collapsed on the ground, never so grateful to have grass and dirt and dust in her face. But she could hear Luke yelling, barely able to make it out in her delirious state—she didn’t know when she’d last had a sip of water, and they’d been running for at least three miles—but he sounded hysterical. 
She remembered her last clear thought: they weren’t going to make it. 
But they had. They had, so why was Luke losing his mind? 
Annabeth pulled herself up from the ground—how long had she been bleeding out of those slashes on her arm?—and looked for the rest of her friends. Luke wasn’t yelling anymore, instead arguing with someone she didn’t recognize in a bright orange shirt. Grover’s furry legs trembled as he stared down the hill they’d just gotten up, completely silent, and Thalia— 
Where was Thalia? 
Annabeth tried to get up but her legs gave out almost immediately, and steady arms caught her before she could fall to the ground again. Kind eyes served to ease some of her panic—she was older than Annabeth, maybe around Luke or Thalia’s age. 
Thalia— 
“Hey, you’re okay,” the voice said, and Annabeth’s attention was drawn back to you. “I’ve got you.” 
“Where’s Thalia?” she blurted out, because now she couldn’t think of anything else. 
Your brows creased and you glanced back down the hill—Annabeth did too, and she saw Grover and Luke arguing with each other. Or rather, Luke was yelling at him as Grover anxiously hooked his hands through his hair. 
“I don’t know,” you said, “but right now, I need to make sure you’re okay. Are you hurt?” 
Annabeth absentmindedly held up her arm, but she was only focused on her friends. Why wasn’t Thalia with them? Why was Luke so upset?
You cursed under your breath in Ancient Greek as you cradled her arm, and you looked back down the hill. Annabeth could see at least half a dozen other kids. 
“We’ve got two half-bloods and a satyr, one injured!” you yelled back. “Get Molly and Brayden!” 
“Three,” Annabeth found herself saying. “There’s three half-bloods—” 
“Annabeth!” 
Her head shot up at the sound of Luke calling her name as he bounded over, and her eyes widened at the blood steadily spidering across the fabric of his shirt. 
“Luke, you’re hurt—” 
“I’m fine,” he insisted. “It’s fine.” 
“We have Apollo kids coming,” you said, looking up at him, still cradling Annabeth’s arm. “We’ll get y—” 
Your sentence stuck in your throat, and Annabeth could see tears welling in your eyes as your brows furrowed. She thought Luke’s eyes might burst out of his skull as he stared at you, his lips parted but nothing coming out. Neither of you were able to form words. 
When he finally did get something out, it was a single name. One Annabeth knew by heart, one that he’d mourned for years. 
“Luke?” you whispered. 
Before he had the chance to do anything, two teenagers got over the hill and called out your name, the same one Luke used. He always said you were dead, but you clearly weren’t dead, because you were here and you had her arm in your grasp and while your hands were cold, they weren’t cold enough to be dead— 
“Molly’s gonna take care of you,” you said, looking back at Annabeth and cutting off her inner dialogue. “She’ll get you to the infirmary and heal you up, okay?” 
“My friends—” 
“They’re gonna be okay too,” you said. “I promise.” 
Annabeth looked up at Luke, and he nodded. “We’ll be with you soon, Annabeth. We— we have to talk about some things.” 
So she went with Molly down the hill, and Annabeth put pressure on her bleeding wound when she told her to—it had started to sting like hell now that her adrenaline was fading. 
She looked back just in time to see you and Luke share the tightest hug ever. 
The hug of two people who realized they weren’t seeing ghosts, Annabeth thought. 
-
You bolted up in bed, eyes wide and your chest heaving as you rapidly sucked in air. Your fingers found purchase in your bedsheets, desperate for something familiar—it took a second for you to recognize your surroundings, that you weren’t in an endless void, but your childhood bedroom offered little comfort.  
You ran a hand over your forehead, damp with sweat, as you tried to calm down. Your breathing slowed, but you couldn’t shake that awful feeling that hung over you in your sleep. 
Your nightmares were getting worse, you knew that much. That raspy, demented voice used to be a rarity, and now it appeared every night. You could usually deal with your nightmares, but the sense of absolute dread that voice and the pit fostered in you was too much. You hadn’t managed to sleep through the night once since you came home for the school year.
You could deal with the monsters—to you, this was the worst part of your godly blood.
A knock rattled on the door out of nowhere, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. The only thing that calmed you down was the thought that monsters didn’t knock. 
“Come in,” you croaked, your throat drier than a desert. 
Thankfully, a monster hadn’t come to make your night even more miserable. Luke stood in the doorway, his eyebrows creased in concern, messy curls hanging just above his eyes. He wore the Red Sox t-shirt you’d bought for him at the game you dragged him to, and in your addled state, you didn’t even think to tease him about it. 
“Are you okay?” He should’ve been as disoriented as you, but his alerted eyes told a different story. 
You could only think of one thing. “How did you know?” 
Luke’s lips parted for a moment, as if he hadn’t even considered it. “I could just feel it.”
You managed a smile despite every atom in your body screaming at you. “I think that means you can come in.” 
He closed the door behind him, and you shifted over in your bed to make room for him. There wasn’t much in a twin, but you made it work. Luke’s weight pressed into the mattress, making you adjust your position, and it was more comforting than any amount of blankets. 
“You’re so cold,” he murmured, laying the back of his hand against your arm. “How do you live like that?” 
“Blame my dad,” you said. “I’ve got water in my blood.” 
“I think that’s probably a bad thing,” Luke said, and you knocked your shoulder into his with a huff. 
“You know what I mean.” 
Luke let his hand fall back in his lap, and as you brought your knees up to your chest, you pulled the covers with them. 
“So,” Luke said, glancing at you, “what’s got you awake at the witching hour?” 
“The usual,” you mumbled. 
“Nightmares that might be prophetic?” he asked. 
You made a lazy gesture with your hand. “Bingo.” 
“The worst sense of dread imaginable?” 
“Bullseye.” 
“I’m sorry,” he said. 
You shrugged. “It’s nothing I can’t deal with.” 
“You don’t always have to put on a front, y’know,” Luke said. You felt his eyes on you. “You don’t always have to be strong.” 
“I’m naturally strong,” you said with mock austerity. “Comes with the god for a dad.” 
Luke chuckled and shook his head. “You know what I mean.” 
“Yeah,” you murmured. 
You leaned into his side, fitting your head into the crook of his neck. Luke wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, and you let out a contented sigh. 
That voice in your nightmares seemed so small when you had Luke. 
“Can you stay?” you asked softly. 
He didn’t hesitate. “Of course.” 
“Just like old times,” you whispered. 
“Just like old times,” he agreed. 
Luke ran hot, and you’d never been more thankful for it as you fully settled into his side. Icy blood ran through your veins, and you let out a shaky sigh. You could hear his steady breathing, feel his heartbeat through his chest, and the anxiety from earlier began to steadily fade. You never felt safer than when you were with Luke. 
There was something between you—you weren’t that stupid—but you hadn’t talked about it. With you and Luke, it was just… you and Luke. You didn’t have to put a label to it. 
How could you put a label to your relationship, when you’d spent your first few years together fighting for each day, and then the next few thinking the other was dead? 
Maybe someday, you would talk about it. But for now, this was more than enough. 
“Don’t worry,” Luke murmured in your ear as your eyes began to droop. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” 
And by the gods, you believed him. 
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temis-de-leon · 4 months
Text
Pick me girls and OM! Brothers - Part 2
Characters: Satan, Asmo, Beel and Belphie (x reader, separately)
Part 1 - Lucifer, Mammon and Levi (x reader, separately)
Part 3 - Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon and Simeon (x reader, separately)
Masterlist
CW: pick me girl behavior, one of these girls is actually really stupid, suggestive, mentions of sex between the brothers and mc, mentions of violence, a bit of magic, mentions of cheating (not actual cheating), nightmares, implied death, jealous mc, some fluff, some hurt, some comfort, still ooc but i had even more fun
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Satan
Your boyfriend looked more offended than you ever had the chance to feel.
The cashier at the bookstore barely had the time to say anything about her supposed romance with the demon before he appeared in his signature pose: a hand in his hip and the other one over his chest.
He had been a regular for years and you didn't know if the girl had been delusional enough to believe she had something with him or if she was just jealous and wanted to make you feel bad.
You weren't sure which one was sadder.
"Am I hearing this correctly?" he said with spite, distracting you from your own thoughts "Are you so daft you were considering me reciprocating your feelings?"
The girl lowered her gaze, clearly embarrassed, and for a moment you felt guilty. Maybe she really thought she had something mutual going on with Satan; a crush that went too far in her own imagination.
She proved you wrong, however, when not only did she give you a side eye, but also said the most stupidest thing one could ever muster.
"Well, obviously you are so daft you chose them over me"
You couldn't waste time on feeling hurt; not when Satan was showing his fangs, letting his tail scratch the floor as it lashed behind him. As hot as he looked like this, it was not the moment nor the place to show his demon form in a fit of rage.
The stupid cashier seemed proud of getting a reaction out of him, finally catching his attention. Maybe she was a demon of wrath too? Maybe that's how she flirted with other demons?
The poor thing would be lucky if she ever lived to see another day.
Let her discover that fact on her own.
"She's not worth it, Satan" you urged, pushing him to the door "Let's go to that cat cafe you mentioned earlier. You said they had new kittens, right?"
That seemed to do the trick.
He looked at you with love, still mixed with anger and bewilderment, but not enough for you not to hold his hand and lean against him.
"I'm sorry, my dear" he murmured, then he spoke louder "Do not believe a word she said"
"I would never"
"Good"
He nodded to himself, like the idea of you believing the cashier was too stupid to even consider it, but neither of you could ignore how his hand stiffened in yours for a second.
"Let's go see some kittens" you said in a singing voice, leading him in the street towards your destination.
You failed to see the adoration in his eyes.
Asmo
This succubus dated Asmo long before you were even an idea in your parents' minds and she wanted you to keep that in mind.
She wanted you to know that everything you knew, she knew better (a blatant lie) and that Asmo preferred experience over novelty (ew).
"I remember the times we went to the sauna and... Oh, sorry, does he take you to the sauna?"
"He invited me a couple of times, yes" but I had to say no or else I would've boiled alive.
"And does he...?"
Does he. Does he. Does he.
He does. HE DOES. HE DEFINITELY DOES.
In which moment did you think going to The Fall was a better plan than doing each other's skincare routine while making fun of 50 shades of Grey?
The both of you could be criticizing that poor excuse of BDSM right now (before recreating the correct version), but, instead, Asmo was ordering the girliest cocktail ever made while this Camila Cabello wannabe harassed you.
"...that was a little joke between us"
Lord Diavolo she just kept going.
"I'm so happy you remember so well your past relationship with him" you intervened with a strain in your voice, "but maybe it's time for you to stop and leave"
The succubus smirked with a smugness that made your innards burn from the inside out.
"Don't get jealous! I'm sure he loves you too"
Oh my Lord.
The lion, the witch and the audacity of this bitch.
"Hon', look at this!"
There he came, your savior, dressed in a skimpy dress with hands full of shimmery drinks and a glint in his very beautiful loving eyes.
"They didn't have human beverages, but I swear the taste is impeccable, you'll love it! Just let me take a picture for Devilgram first"
Camila Cabello, as you had finally decided to call her, cleared her throat in search of the demon's attention. Asmodeus looked in her direction, obviously trying to remember who she was.
"Asmo, baby!" she was nothing but a smile full teeth and a mission. Her gaze a little desperate "Remember me?"
Her determination died, however, when Asmo's expression turned shocked after studying her. He grasped his chest in sorrow as he asked the funniest question you could hear at the moment.
"What are you wearing?"
Camila Cabello was finally at a loss of words and you briefly wondered if this had ever happened to her.
"If you're gonna meddle in my relationship with MC at least take effort in looking decent"
His expression was sweet, saccharine, but there was an underlying seriousness in his voice.
He was so beautiful. And he was all yours.
Beel
She was one of the boys, apparently. Beel had definitely never mentioned her, but the girl only laughed when you told her that.
"Wow, controlling much? Does he have to tell you about every friend?"
Well, no, Beel didn't have to inform you about everyone he's ever met, but your boyfriend was sweet enough to want you in every aspect of his life, thus introducing you to his friends, his teammates and even his gym bros.
Definitely not to this girl.
You looked at her in disbelief, licking your teeth with a calculating glance. How much would Beel care if you hit this airhead with a dumbbell?
"We hang out together almost every day" she boasted, twisting a strand of her hair around her finger "It's not even weird for me to be in the boys locker room"
Were you strong enough to throw a dumbbell?
Surely she'd rather be with them instead of you if she was 'one of the boys', no? Why would she be in the bleachers with you, waiting for the team to finish their training, when she could be in any other part of the field doing exercise or playing for another sport?
"I'm not making you insecure, am I?" asked the girl in poorly faked innocence "If he loves you so much you should have nothing to worry about"
"Oh, I trust him" you assured her, but you didn't sound as confident as you wanted to. Although Beel never gave you any reasons to doubt him, it was difficult to defend your relationship when this girl was so convinced everyone was in love with her.
"That's so cool"
You decided to ignore her and her mocking tone, hoping to end the conversation right there, but she just kept talking. It was obvious she wanted to get under your skin.
For what? you wondered. Did she expect Beel to leave you if she batted her lashes fast enough? Did she know Beel at all??
"Oh, Beely!"
You cringed with a scowl visible to everyone around you. Some of Beel's teammates laughed at your missfortune, while the others, the ones you liked best, turned around in horror and left without a second glance.
Wether he was oblivious or just didn't care, Beel wasted no time in running towards you with a smile on his face.
"Did you see me?" he asked, looking up to you with a boyish grin and brightened eyes.
"I'm always looking at you"
Beel blushed, his smile still obvious in his face, but he couldn't get another word in before the girl talked again.
"I was looking at you too"
You rolled your eyes and Beel immediately stared at you with a curious glance. He hummed in response, ignoring her once again as he reached out for your hand to caress your knuckles.
"There's a new limited edition menu in a restaurant near RAD"
No questions added nor needed. You smiled at him and nodded, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss it. A promise for later.
"Noo, we used to go there so much..."
"Can you stop?" Beel interrupted her with a deadpan expression "You're making MC uncomfortable"
The girl looked at him in surprise, mouth wide open, clearly not expecting to be snapped at.
She didn't dare to look at you after that.
Belphie
It wasn't the first time you dreamt about this girl and it wasn't the first time you dreamt about her stealing your sloth of a boyfriend.
She wasn't some mystery girl, but rather Belphie's old seatmate, the one he had before you were kidnapped admitted in RAD. A quiet doe-eyed succubus that looked at him like he was the best thing that ever happened to both human and demon mankind.
She'd tried to sit next to him a couple of times with no avail, always getting rejected in your favor. Then, Belphie and you started dating and she stopped trying. You'd innocently thought she'd surrendered.
But not only did she search for him the very few times you guys weren't next to each other, she also ignored you completely when you were there.
Ignoring her back was easier said than done.
And this time, the oniric version of her wasn't just stealing your boyfriend. This time, he was willingly going to her, making your heart hurt so much it made you wake up with what felt like broken ribs.
It took you a couple of minutes to pull yourself together and not push Belphie away when he brought you back to his chest. The image of him kissing her while looking at you was engraved in your mind.
So, although sweating and hurting both from your heart and your confidence, you forced yourself to sleep.
You didn't notice just how awake Belphie was.
Back when you were still friends, you had allowed him to introduce himself into your slumber each time you had a nightmare. Images of you dying under the jaws and claws of faceless demons disappeared faster when the real Belphie was there. Ironic, isn't it?
He tried to stop every single one of them, but sometimes he was so deep in his own dreams it was proved to be impossible.
You thought this was one of those occasions, but, alas, you were wrong.
Days passed without any new event and Belphie mentioned nothing about your initial irrational coldness towards him, which made you feel a tiny bit better. Eventually you'd get so embarrassed about the situation that you had no other option but to dote on him like the brat he was, leading to a whole weekend sprawled over his bed in the attic.
The girl was still there, although not as persistent with Belphie, and she avoided you like the plague, with fright in her eyes.
So he did something about her, didn't he? But how did he know? And what did he do? You wanted to ask, curious as ever, but as time went by and the eyebags under her eyes started to occupy her entire face, you decided against it.
Barely a month later she disappeared without leaving trace. And since Belphie didn't even acknowledge her at all, why would you?
Tagging a little more: @hello-gloomy @the-sassiest-toaster @hero-nii-blog @yourlocalyin @elaemae
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amaranthineghost · 6 months
Note
hello!!!
can you do a one shot/ fanfic that Lando has been dating Y/N since they were 15/16, so for a long time, and she just found out she’s pregnant. you can come up with how they would react and how lando would react but i’d love if they were unsure of it in the beginning, but it grew on them as time went by.
thanks!!!!
| OUR WORLD IN YOUR HANDS ( lando norris. ) |
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ꕥ pairing: lando x reader
ꕥ summary: they hadn't planned for pregnancy, but it changed their life.
ꕥ authors note: enjoyed writing it more than I thought I would honestly. tried to make it so she was more unsure than he was and in the end, I liked it. working on incorporating more dialogue in the future because it is definitely not my strong suit. I'll also alternate between requests and my own ideas so if you requested something, keep it in mind <3
ꕥ warnings: mentions of alcohol, sex, barely mentions thoughts of abortion
TWO RED LINES. her heart had skipped a beat, more like several as she stared at the dark red line and a faded pink one next to it. she couldn't believe her eyes. it couldn't be possible, it repeated in her mind.
but it obviously was. they hadn't been very careful, they're young and dumb and in love. two people so deeply in love that they couldn't care less. at least she thought they did at the time.
staring at the test in front of her shook her whole world, an entirely different branch of her life she'd never expect to take this soon. it was right in front of her.
despite being together for a year or two shy of a decade, it felt too soon. they were still young, had plenty of parties lined up in the near future. plenty of drunken nights running through the streets of monaco barefooted, hands intertwined as the world was focused on them. how they'd escape to the farthest rooftop, drunken makeouts leading to more as they came together under the stars.
they still had time. time to be what they'd missed as teenagers, to make memories. they had time to spend countless nights, wrapped in each other's arms under cold skies on balconies across countries, discussing their future. when they'd get married, where they'd like to live, if they ever left monaco which seemed unlikely, the places they've yet to see, how many kids they'll have and their names.
time for reckless driving through the streets of monaco with the wind crashing against them, hands raised as they cheered. he always drove to the most beautiful sight in the city, but always claimed it would never come close to the beauty she possessed.
time for runs across the beach in tiny bikinis and swim trunks as they raced on the sand. his arms capturing her waist as he tossed her around, feeling the vibrations of her laughter and screams against his skin. a feeling he'd forever cherish.
it all disappeared with a single faded line. everything she knew about their future collapsed with the test barely bigger than the length of her hand. it would affect everything.
it was conflicting. becoming a mother was all she ever dreamed and talked about, when she became older. she'd mention to her curly-haired boyfriend countless times of her dreams of having the mini versions of him running around the house they shared. the longing to see his eyes and curly hair with features of her own on another warm body. their child.
but she wasn't ready. in her mid-twenties, with years of life left to live child-free. tens of grand prix's to attend in support of her mclaren lover, watching 10 feet away from his car. nights to catch up on hours of sleep she lacked from keeping up with lando's lifestyle.
having a kid swept it all off the table. no more late night dalliances, or getting so drunk to the point where lando would have to pull over the car to hold back her hair as she threw up in the bushes.
no more parties at ungodly hours of the night, watching drunk lando stumble his way to the dj booth, giggling over a glass of alcohol at his actions.
no more sleep. she knew she'd be woken up numerous times in the night from the cries of her child, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to give up sleep yet.
and she wasn't sure lando wanted to give up formula one either. obviously, a balance between the two worlds is possible, but she knew he would want to be there with her, and she didn't know if he could.
it scared her. the thought of this changing the dynamic of their relationship on levels she couldn't even begin to think of. she's seen countless videos of how having a child completely changed the way couples worked, good and bad, and she didn't want that fifty-fifty.
she'd sat staring at the test between the tips of her fingers for a solid twenty minutes before she heard a patterned knock she grew familiar with from her beloved boyfriend.
the door muffled his voice just slightly, "darling, you 'right in there?" his hand wrapped around the now cold door handle and twisted it, but it failed to turn as it pressed into his palm.
it was unusual for her to lock the door, she knew he would question it. and she knew she couldn't use the excuse of that she's changing or showering because lando simply didn't care whenever she was. he'd sit and keep her company till she was done with whatever she was doing because it was often what they did. sit in silence, enjoying the presence of one another.
"yeah, I'm fine!" she called out to him in a rushed tone, flinching enough that she nearly dropped the test. she watched as the door knob shook, shoving the stick into the bottom of the trash temporarily. she'd remember to remove it eventually.
she turned on the sink as she hid the box of tests in the depths of the cabinet under the sink. looking at herself in the mirror, she'd wipe away the tears that built in her eyes. she didn't want him to notice, but like always he would.
from the locked door to the second she opened it, he'd watch it. she'd see him leaning on the wall just outside the door, patiently waiting for her to come out to him. he wouldn't question it, he trusted that she would eventually come around to tell him. she always did.
with the frequent trips to the bathroom and the slimmed selection of foods in the fridge, he'd suspect something, but he wouldn't know for sure. not without her word.
because for the time being, it was a secret she kept to herself, as much as she despised secrets. she felt like she was guilty to be hiding something from the person she trusted most in the world.
times when she thought the room was empty, she'd be pacing long ways back and forth with her arms crossed and her face solid. he'd watched her from the doorframe with his arms crossed against his chest, mirroring her position slightly.
times when she'd drop whatever she was doing to rush into the bathroom and spill her guts into the toilet as he held her hair and ran his fingers along the nape of her neck. she claimed it was a stomach bug, but he knew better. he also knew better than to question her words so he said nothing, but made a multitude of soups for her to sip on, taking notice of her now acute taste.
times when she'd cry over the tiniest of things, comforting her in his arms while she sobbed against the fabric of his very worn hoodie that happened to be her favorite.
it wasn't a great shock when she first told him. stuttering over her words as she fumbled with the sleeves of his long-sleeve shirt that went well past her fingertips, he could see tears brimming her eyes with her heightened sensitivity.
so when she muttered the words, "i'm pregnant," his world stopped, restarted, reloaded and stopped again when he finally processed the words. though he knew he could've expected it, hearing the confirmation leave her lips left his world tipped sideways.
but he wanted to hear it again, needed to, words breathlessly escaping his lips, "what, love?" he heard her the first time, but he wanted to hear it again. and again and again.
she choked on her words, sobbing out again, "I'm pregnant, lan," he pulled her into his chest, his hand finding it's way to the side of her head as he cradled her, pressing his lips against her hair.
as they swayed, it finally dawned on him, muttering unsure and excitedly against her head, "I'm going to be a dad?" his breathing deepened, his tongue gliding across his lips, then biting at the sensitive flesh. he felt his heart hammer in his chest, nearly comparing to when he first asked the girl out all those years ago. he reminisced the time when the biggest deal he could think of was rejection. now the girl he had crushed on when he was just a teenager just told him she's pregnant. with his kid.
part of him couldn't be happier, they had spent countless nights in bed, lying on their sides facing one another with stupid grins on their faces as they pondered their future together. whatever they wanted, it always had the other in their thoughts and plans.
this was just their plans manifesting faster than they might've hoped, and sure, he wasn't totally certain that it was the right timing after all. but this was their dream, and maybe they just needed time.
time to accept how greatly their life would be affected. he thought about how he'd have to leave her for days, weeks for his career, the few outlying times when she'd travel with him. he knew that would change, leaving her home with a new life to take care of besides her own. he hated the thought of leaving her.
they needed time to think, whether it was together or just by themselves. they needed to figure out how they'd make it through, if they could. which was a question in itself.
they needed to talk because part of her didn't think he would be so accepting of the change life threw them, permanently altering their course of life and the years to follow.
deep inside, they're scared. they knew they would've been, planned or not. it didn't make it any easier. but when he asked such a simple question, it lifted a massive weight that had been carrying on her shoulders. part of her knew he'd always be so accepting. everything is an experience after all.
with every month passed, every growth of the life within her body, he'd mention. he was the nerdy type to compare the size of the baby with fruit. he'd goggle each week with every new development she'd create. it shook his mind to even comprehend. she could make bones, organs and the tiniest lashes of their soon-to-be kid all within the confines of her body. to him, it was sacred.
and of course, he'd tell just about everyone from every team. all the drivers, mechanics, pit crew, team principals, the list goes on and so does his rants about her.
countless photos of appreciation for her on his social media, after all she was carrying his child and he was ecstatic. he'd spent every waking moment he could with her, his hands always somewhere on her, prodominantly on her growing stomach.
when he felt the first kick, he pulled his hand away sharply, looking at her with a dropped jaw and wide eyes, "it kicked me!" he'd exclaim and she slapped his shoulder, scolding him.
"don't call the baby an 'it!'"
"what else am I supposed to call it?" again, earning another slap to his bicep, and he'd look at her with a growing confused look.
"stop slapping me!" he held up his arms in defense as she scowled at him, her arms crossed over her chest. she pursed her lips before sighing as he'd replace his hand on her stomach.
"babe, I don't think this baby likes me," he looked between his hand and her eyes, feeling the movement under his palm. it was a weird sensation, something he'd never expect to feel so soon, or at all.
all she could do was laugh at the stupid expression across his face as he looked back and forth in bewilderment. the warmth from his hand, and the small calluses sent goosebumps across her skin. it incited a smirk to take place on his face, but she slapped it off. he'd expect to feel more of those as the months went by, especially with all the sly comments she'd hear slip past his lips.
with every ultrasound appointment, he'd be there. he'd make sure of it, no matter where he was or what he was doing. she also scheduled them in accordance to his race and where in the world it took place.
every time, his eyes would be locked on the screen that projected his child, a part of him in another life form. a smile always creeping into his face as he held her cold hand. more often than not, he'd get curious and try to become the technician, stealing the equipment out of the professional's hand. his girlfriend would scold him like he was some sort of dog. in response he'd groan, rolling his eyes at her.
he'd still try though, and the technician laughed it off. he'd make comments to her in reassurance, "babe, i've got this," he'd tell him as his hand with the wand came closer to her stomach.
"where's your degree then?" she snapped back, giggling at his sudden pause before he shrugged, waving it off his other hand.
" 's at home."
when the time finally came to birth their new life into the world, god did lando panic. everything he had prepared himself with went out the window when she'd mutter the words he'd been waiting to hear.
"lando," she mumbled as she sat on their couch, turning to him with wide eyes, "I think it's time." her sleeve-covered hands were at her face as she bit nervously on her nails.
he'd stutter over his words, hands in his hair, "you're joking." he'd say repeatedly as he rushed around the apartment, grabbing things. he was the type to grab everything and forget her still on the couch.
she'd call him on her phone when she sees him in his car from the window, through the pain, she laughed at him, "forget something, norris?"
"no, darling, I've got everything-" she'd see his movement pause, his hand returning to his hair, "fuck!"
when he'd come back to help her, she was nearly collapsed with laughter despite the pain she felt through her body.
"stop laughing at me!" he whined but he was laughing with her. nonetheless, they'd get to the car.
she was in labor for hours, crunching on ice chips that he'd fed her carefully. he'd massage her shoulders, hold her hand when contractions got particularly unbearable. he knew not to mumble bullshit words of encouragement, a word of advice from his mum, advice he'd gladly listen to.
instead he'd show her he was there by doing everything she asked until it was time to actually deliver their child they've been waiting 9 months to finally meet.
with a pale face, lando would comment, "I think one kid is fine after all." she'd roll her eyes at his words as she held their daughter in her arms, already seeing themselves in her. she was exhausted and he knew. he put her hair up, cooing words of appreciation to her now that all was done. he took care of her.
he'd remember call his mum later to tell her thank you.
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| Shut up for me, love, |
Toji Fushiguro x Wife!Reader
Toji finds out you're pregnant! (with Megumi)
Word Count: 1.5k
CW: SFW, domestic fluff, pregnancy, Toji has a job, slightly suggestive dialogue
A/n: I have an idea for a Part 2 (this was so fun)... also opening to take requests if you have any.
It was like floating on cloud nine, where everything was beautiful and happy. You couldn’t help but curl up into a ball on your bed, digging your fists into the covers while clutching the test. Why? Because it came up with two lines. 
You had always wanted kids, that was something your husband, Toji, knew very well. However, there was still something daunting, that translated into a sinking feeling in your gut. Something that you had wanted for so long, something bigger than yourself, was going to happen, and the two of you would face it together. 
There were so many things to look forward to while pregnant. Wearing cute dresses that emphasized your bump just right, a sign to yourself and the world of your lovely marriage and relationship with your husband. Family photos, pregnancy milestones, and finally, the birth that would happen in a bit under nine months. You were so happy to start your family with Toji, and the little bundle of joy that was growing inside of you.
That feeling of euphoria didn’t leave after laying there for five minutes. In fact, it probably never would. It was another version of the feeling you got when you first met Toji, and the one from when you married him, and you still couldn’t believe that it had happened. But, Toji would be home soon. 
Knowing your husband, still as frustrated with your finances as ever, the one thing you could decide was that balloons and cake would not be appreciated on this occasion. Though he knew of your desires, he never explicitly said he wanted a baby either. That was what scared you the most. 
Toji always humered you, when you visited little clothing boutiques and stores, and something in the maternity section caught your eye. Or, when you couldn’t help but offer to take care of your friend’s baby whenever you got the chance, and had the biggest smile he had ever seen on your face, when you held her. 
What you didn’t see, however, was that while you perused the racks of baby clothing, his eyes drifted over to the green dinosaur onesie, with dark green spikes covering the head and going over the back and the tail. He chuckled under his breath, starting to get ideas himself seeing how invested you were. 
When you mentioned getting pregnant, Toji said he wasn’t opposed, though the look on his face showed more that he was uninterested. While you trusted your husband, he was wonderful to you, that sinking feeling didn’t go away either. Part of the reason you were so enthusiastic, after all, was because you’d be raising your child with Toji, and that idea was the embodiment of perfection in your mind. Without him in all the way, would it really be the same?
Toji wasn’t a big fan of fuss anyway, his proposal and your wedding had been small and pretty simple, and you were fine with that. In all honesty it was nice, to not have to worry about every little thing being perfect anyway. For news like this, thinking about decorations would only be a distraction from figuring out what to say. 
“Toji, honey, I’m pregnant,” you repeated to yourself in the mirror, holding the test to give it to him, trying to present it like a gift of some sort. “I have some news for you, Toji,” another option, “It’s great news, I’m really excited,” you tried to make the perfect smile, to show him just how happy you were. But you just threw yourself back on the bed, covering the flush on your cheeks with your hand. 
Everything sounded fake when you tried it. Knowing Toji, if you said any of those things, he might think there was something wrong instead of the truth. And of course, you couldn’t knock that stupid grin off your face for more than a few seconds, butterflies fluttering around your stomach so much that you had to ground yourself. 
Your face heated up at the mere thought of your husband walking through the door, though he would be tired and bothered as per usual. How would he react? Would he be as happy as you are, or… and the sinking feeling was growing again. You lifted your knees, planting your feet flat on the bed so the hem of your dress laid right above your ankles, as you sat in thought, preparing yourself for the inevitable. 
In a way you had given up, on facing Toji head on. Instead you decided to lie in wait, and figure something out on a whim if it didn’t come to you before he got home. You tucked the test under the blanket next to your legs, trying to relax as best as you could. 
The click of the front door was a familiar sound, something that usually excited you. However on this particular day, it was a little bit too exciting, so much so that you couldn’t urge yourself to get up and move your hands from their comfortable spot covering your face. 
Toji made his way through the kitchen and the living room, missing the usual sound of you, his wife, running around doing whatever it was that you were doing when he came home every day. The occasional joking “Honey, I’m home,” something he had grown to secretly enjoy, couldn’t be said despite his relatively good mood - for his ‘honey’ wasn’t there. 
Heading into your shared bedroom, where he typically pulled off his stuffy work clothes and changed into something more comfortable, was where he found you, curled up and about as out-of-it as ever. 
Toji laid down behind you on the bed, leaning over onto his side to see you. He pulled one of your hands off your face, smirking as you opened your eyes and met his gaze. “Hey, stupid,” he laughed as you pulled your hand back, smacking his away. “Why you coverin’ that pretty face, huh?” he asked, settling down with his hand resting under his neck. “What happened to ‘wife’, or something,” you tried to pout. “I called you pretty,” he reasoned, “and I can see that stupid smile on your face, somethin’ happen to ya?” 
Toji reached his hand over, with more force this time, pulling both your hands off your face. The flushed red of your cheeks and cute little protests made him smile. “You gonna tell me what’s got you so flustered, wife?” he kept your hands lightly pinned beneath his. “Couldn’t help yourself from thinkin’ about me while I was at work… really is stupid to be embarrassed,” you shook your head as best as you could. 
“Toji…” you murmured out, trying not to look him in the eyes. You pulled your right hand away from him, reaching into the covers to where you shoved the test. “I’m just… really happy, okay?” you choked out meekly, biting your lip you threw the test back at him. 
Catching it in his hands, he stared at the two lines. “You don’t say, huh?” he breathed heavily, as you eyed his expression with worry. “I just found out…” you blushed as he looked back at you, listening intently. “And… I know we didn’t talk that much about it,” you whispered, feeling his hand tighten it’s grip around yours. “But I really want to be a mother, Toji,” you sighed, still anticipating his reply. 
“Didn’t realize we weren’t on the same page about that,” he turned away, with a smile on his face. “I don’t want to make you unhappy -” he cut you off with a kiss, leaning down as your heart raced even faster. “How ‘bout you shut up for me, love,” your face contorted into a look of surprise. “Am I that bad of a husband? I thought you knew I was on board,” he chuckled. “But you said you didn’t really care,” you whined, as he moved his hand to hold yours more comfortably. “Yeah, that was my way of sayin’ it,” you rolled your eyes at him. “Besides, who do you think did this to ya, I’m not that much of an idiot,” he held up the test again, the surrealness of it all was sinking in.
“So, do you know the gender yet?” he asked, as you squinted. “Toji, I just found out a few minutes ago,” you replied. “Yeah, but I figured you had some kind of mother’s intuition on that stuff,” he yawned, the tiredness from work starting to hit him. “Well, what do you think?” 
“A girl,” he stated quickly, as you thought about it. “Your final guess?” you asked, to which he agreed. “Well knowing your losing streak, it must be a boy then,” you laughed as he frowned, “I should put that on paper… How’s that for mother’s intuition?” You looked back at Toji, who was fully laid down with his eyes closed. “Pregnant women should get a lot of sleep, I’m just setting an example,” he yawned again, pulling your waist to turn you next to him. You snuggled in closer, the sinking feeling was gone though the butterflies were only getting worse by the minute. “Fine, but only for a little while. I have to make dinner,” Toji hummed in response. “G’night, future mama.”
(Part 2)
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dekariosclan · 12 days
Text
With you, I forget my goddess
So, I have completed Bg3 twice now, but on both runs I’ve romanced Gale (truly shocking, I know) and therefore I had never seen Gale’s non-romance discussion with Tav about the Annals of Karsus.
I recently got to see it, and what surprised me the most is how extremely angry and bitter Gale is about Mystra’s treatment of him. Rightfully and understandably so, but it’s something we do not see or experience in the romance version.
This got me thinking about the difference in Gale’s reactions in the friendship vs romance scenes, why they are different, and also how this relates to the complaints I’ve read about Gale ‘still not being over Mystra even when romancing Tav’.
(Note that I’m mainly going to focus on the portions of each dialogue that relate to Mystra in particular, and I’m not referencing the ‘alternate’ boat scene w/Gale—where he tells you beforehand that he will return the crown to her—since he doesn’t mention Mystra at all there.)
Screencaps below are from @munmomuu’s wonderful video on YouTube. The screencaps take place after Gale has read the Karsus book. If you are romancing him, before you reach this point, the conversation ends because he tells you he wants to discuss it later “in private,” during the boat scene.
But in a friendship run, he will explain what he’s read to you and then begin to make his case for using the crown:
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Gale: Some gods may delude themselves into believing they care about their worshippers, but when it comes down to it - we’re all expendable. Children to be appeased, not respected.
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Gale: I worshipped Mystra loyally for years, and in that time she granted me the barest sliver of the power I was ready to wield.
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Gale: Even with the fate of the world at stake, she had little more to offer me than the means of blowing myself up at a more convenient time. She’s done nothing to help us.
There then comes a dialogue branch where Tav can ask this:
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And Gale replies, with understandable bitterness:
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Gale: She sent me to die.
Look at how angry he is during this whole exchange, and how he focuses all that anger on the past, and what Mystra has done to him (or not done, as he points out she’s offered them no help at all.)
— — —
Now let’s compare this to his Mystra dialogue in the boat scene:
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Gale: I’ve already defied Mystra. Had I followed her command, there’d be nothing left of me but a smoking crater.
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Gale: The tadpoles, the orb - these threats to our existence - the gods could aid us if they wished, but instead they cower behind Ao. So let us act ourselves.
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Gale: I used to believe Mystra’s forgiveness was worth dying for. But I was wrong. You showed me just how much I have to live for.
Notice how there’s no fiery anger at Mystra here, just Gale’s resigned belief that the Gods have failed them.
So what’s the key component that makes Gale react so differently in each scenario?
It is, of course, Tav.
More specifically, it’s Tav’s love for him, which has clearly helped his heart heal from the trauma that he’s experienced. Yes, Tav’s friendship is extremely important as well, and yes, Gale is still insecure even with Tav’s love (‘you would really prefer me as I am?’) but the extreme bitterness, the anger, all of that is gone. Here, Gale is no longer hung up on Mystra and the past; he’s looking to the future. Because now that he has Tav, what he desires most is to take his life and his fate back from the Gods and into his own hands—with Tav at his side.
The irony is that some people complain about Gale ‘not being over Mystra’ while he’s actively romancing Tav, but just look at the difference in the dialogue! Look at how focused he is on Mystra when he is not romancing Tav, and then how she becomes a mere afterthought once Tav has claimed his heart.
I really enjoyed seeing this level of detail. I think it perfectly illustrates Gale’s frame of mind in each scenario, as well as showing the positive impact Tav’s love has on Gale.
And last but not least—it confirms that Gale was not exaggerating when he says this:
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Gale: With you, I forget my goddess. I love you.
— — —
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ellemj · 6 months
Text
Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 10 (FINAL PART)
Bucky Barnes x Reader
*Read parts 1-9 first for the full effect!*
Summary: Everything is out in the open between you and Bucky now, but there are two rules for your new secret relationship.
Warnings: unprotected sex, teasing, possessive!Bucky (hehehe), maybe fluff (?), profanity, use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.
Word Count: 2.2k
Author's Note: We've finally reached the end. I think I'll miss this version of Bucky and reader but I'm pretty excited about the work that I'm planning on putting out here next. Hopefully everyone's okay with the conclusion of this, I didn't want to have anyone riding off into the sunset or anything, but I also didn't want to have a horribly sad ending, so this felt right. You guys should totally let me know in the comments what kind of things you'd like to see from me soon! I don't know if I'll take specific requests anytime soon, but I'd love to at least find out what might get you all excited. Thanks for the umpteenth time to @littlemiss-yeehaw for being the best cheerleader and warnings-writer out there. She also draws some unbelievable shots of Bucky based on scenes in these fics.
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In the shower, on the hotel bed, in the chair by the window, hell, even on the floor when the two of you rolled off of the bed in the heat of the moment. You’d successfully christened every surface of your hotel room before the clock ever struck midnight. You hadn’t meant to go at it like horny teenagers who found themselves home alone for the first time, but that’s what happened. It’s like you were both thinking about how this may not continue once you get back to the compound tomorrow morning, so you fit as much as you could all in one night.
            Now, you’re laying side by side in bed. Your most recent tryst involved you on your hands and knees with Bucky doing all of the right things behind you, and it thoroughly winded you both. You listen as your collective breaths fill the air, the two of you each coming down from your post-orgasmic highs.
            “Do you think Dr. Raynor will figure this out?” You ask softly, raising a hand and wiping a bit of sweat from your brow. Bucky laughs and turns his head to look at you. He still can’t get past how pretty you look after doing such dirty, animalistic things with him. Even without the super soldier serum decreasing his refractory period to mere minutes, he thinks he’d be recovered and ready for round five just from looking at you like this.
            “That’s what you’re thinking about right now?”
            “It’s on my mind, yeah.” You admit. You’re probably more worried about it than you should be, but deep down, Bucky’s worried too.
            “So, how do you want to handle it?” Bucky asks, fully rolling onto his side to face you.
            “Maybe we just wait and see what she has to say after observing tonight’s mission and then go from there. I don’t want to say anything first and give her anything to use against us.” He’s listening to your words, honestly, he is. He doesn’t think he could ever miss a word you say. But he can’t stop himself from reaching over and running his fingertips along your flushed cheek. You turn to look at him and he lets his fingers ghost over your lips and down the column of your throat until he reaches the notch between your collarbones. His eyes linger there for a moment. Something’s missing.
            “You never gave me my dog tags back.” He whispers. You’re not wearing them, and neither is he. So, where are they?
            “Yeah, I wasn’t sure when to give them back.”
            “Bullshit, you wanted to keep them.” Bucky teases. You push his hand away from your neck at the accusation, but can’t stop the smile that’s creeping over your features. Fuck, he’s so into you. He closes the distance between the two of you and places his body carefully over yours under the covers, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. Even just kissing you sets off fireworks inside of him.
            “They’re sitting on my nightstand, back in the compound.” You tell him, hoping it doesn’t make you sound too obsessed. You had planned to give them back all week, but avoiding him made that a little difficult, so instead you left them sitting beside your bed. It was sort of comforting to see his name every night before you fell asleep, and every morning when you woke up.
            “Keep them.” He insists, pressing another kiss to your soft, soft lips. You get lost in the moment, focusing on the feeling of his tongue working against yours, his scent enveloping you in the most consuming way, and his weight keeping you pinned to the mattress. You could stay like this forever.
            This, of course, is when Bucky’s phone would ring. He groans in annoyance as he breaks the kiss and touches his forehead to yours, looking down into your eyes.
            “Tell me not to answer it.” He pleads. You purse your lips, knowing it’s probably someone from the team calling with some kind of update or new order. Bucky groans again before rolling off of you and snatching his phone off of the bedside table. He answers it and puts it on speaker, confirming that it’s someone from the team.
            “Hey, sorry to call so late. The threat has been neutralized so you guys can head back now and get some sleep, we’ll debrief in the morning.” Sam sounds tired but calm, so it must have been more of a nuisance situation than a major threat. Bucky closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose with his vibranium hand.
            “Sounds good, we’ll be back soon.” He grumbles. You can tell he’s annoyed that you won’t be staying the night here. When he hangs up the call, he lets out a deep sigh before sitting up on the side of the bed, with the covers gathering around his waist. Without thinking, you crawl up behind him and wrap your arms around his torso, hugging him from behind. He stiffens as if he didn’t expect your touch, but that just makes you lean into him more, resting your chin on his shoulder. You feel him slowly relax and having that effect on him warms you to the center of your being
            “We’re going to go home, get some rest, and debrief in the morning like this was any other mission.” You say, attempting to be reassuring.
            “That’s what you want? To pretend like this was any other mission?” He questions, running his hands over where your arms are wrapped around his abs.
            “I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant we don’t have to run in and tell everyone that something might be going on between us.”
            “Might?” He chuckles. You feel his abs shake beneath your hands as the melodious sound leaves his lips. You never heard him laugh much before, and you didn’t expect to like it as much as you do.
            “Hey, I told you that I fell for you, and you said fuck, I’m cumming. How am I supposed to know you feel the same way?” You tease, letting go of him and laying back on the bed, drawing the covers up over your naked body. He turns a bit to face you and starts pulling the covers away from you slowly.
            “Y/n…” He says your name with so much genuine feeling that it sends tingles throughout your body. Has he always said your name like that and you just never noticed before? Yes. “I made you wear my dog tags while I fucked you.” What the hell does that have to do with what you just said? He can see the confusion on your face and it brings a smile to his. He slides back under the covers next to you and begins peppering kisses across your shoulder and collarbone.
            “Bucky…” Fuck, if you start saying his name again there’s no way either of you will make it back to the compound tonight. He quickly makes his way up to your face, attaching his lips to yours for a moment and then tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth as he pulls away. It’s the nicest way anyone has ever shut you up.
            “I wanted to be able to pretend like you were mine. I fell way before you did.” He whispers against your lips. Holy shit. He feels the same way. Bucky Barnes feels the same way about you as you feel about him.
            You know that you have orders to head back to the compound, and neither of you are the type to disobey orders from above, but how are you supposed to pack up and head out after finding out that you have feelings for each other? You can’t stand the thought of traveling back to the compound tonight knowing that you’ll have to put on a show and pretend like nothing happened here. So, why not delay a bit and take what you want one more time?
            That very rational thinking is what inspires you to slide your hand between the two of you and wrap your fist around Bucky’s already-hardening cock. He sucks in a breath at the feeling of your small, soft hand wrapping tightly around him, and he wonders how he went so long without having you this way. You’ve been right across the hall from him all of this time. You’ve been going on missions with him for the last two months, giving each other shit nearly every waking moment, and completely missing what had been there the whole time. Love. He won’t say it out loud yet, he doesn’t want to scare you off, but that’s what it is. He’s sure of it. He loves you. He may not say it but he can damn well express it.
            That’s how Bucky finds himself, for the fifth time tonight, guiding the tip of his cock inside of your perfect cunt. He’s done this enough times now that he knows as soon as he bottoms out inside of you, you’ll tense up and scrunch your eyes closed, trying your hardest to adjust to his size. He watches as you do just that, and then he feels your entire body relax beneath him and he knows you’re ready. He pulls one of your legs up and over his hip as he begins fucking you into the mattress. When your eyes flutter open to meet his, he has to go completely still inside you so he won’t cum right then and there. You laugh to yourself. You know what eye contact does to him and you love it.
            “What’s the matter, James? Keep going.” You taunt, wiggling your hips and forcing his cock to slide into you another inch. He’s only halfway inside of you. He breathes out a slow, calming breath before leaning down and nuzzling his face into your neck, letting his cock sink into you slower than it ever has before.
            “You like rushing me, don’t you?” He asks, giving your cunt gentle thrusts. A soft hum leaves your lips at the pleasure that’s beginning to build in your lower stomach. You’re so focused on the feeling that you don’t even acknowledge his question. “Don’t rush me tonight.” He buries himself to the hilt before stilling once more, drawing a whine from your lips. “We’re making love, not fucking, sweetheart.”
---
            A few hours later that same morning, a very uneventful debrief took place in the conference room at the compound. You and Bucky turned in your mission reports, leaving out the details of what happened in the hotel room, and then you were dismissed to have a few hours of freedom before having to meet with Dr. Raynor.
            Everyone probably assumed that the two of you went off to your respective rooms upstairs, but it took little convincing to get Bucky to sneak over into yours. When he stepped inside and shut the door behind him, the first thing he noticed was his dog tags, right where you said they were.
You kick your shoes off by the door and walk over to sit on one of the small gray chairs that you have off to the side of the room, feeling surprisingly nervous that Bucky Barnes is seeing your room for the first time. Nervous. After everything the two of you have done this week? You’re ridiculous. You watch him as he crosses the room and scoops the dog tags off of your nightstand. He stares at them in his palm for a moment, and for a second you worry that he might pocket them. However, when he turns to you with a soft smile and a mischievous glint in his eye, your fears are assuaged.
“Do you have any rules? For this thing that we’ve got going on?” Bucky asks, taking the free chair across from you and setting the dog tags flat on the coffee table that separates the two of you. You tilt your head to the side, studying him closely. You see what he’s doing. The first night, while under the influence of that chemical, you gave him one rule: no kissing. He returned with his own rule: wear his dog tags while he fucks you.
“I have one. We keep this a secret, just between us, for as long as we can.” You respond, letting your eyes trail over his physique. He’s sitting in your chair the same way he sat in the chair in the hotel room last night. The man knows how to demand attention without saying a damn word. You watch as his licks his bottom lip and then leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together in front of him.
“Fine. It’s a secret.” He agrees, his gaze briefly lingering on your neck. “But I have one rule too.” He reaches out with his flesh hand and begins sliding the dog tags across the table toward you. “You’ll never take these off again.”
BONUS CHAPTER
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neowinestainedress · 9 months
Text
SECRET — lee jeno
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𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄: secret
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lee jeno x fem!reader
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: smut, fluff (at the end), established relationship, kink discovery, relationship development
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: jeno has a secret he can’t tell anybody, not even you.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: sub!jeno, dom!reader (it’s their first time reversing roles so they’re both exploring how it feels like), implied masturb*tion, n!pple play, kinda hand-free org*sm/coming untouched, an*l fingering, riding, overstimulation, praise kink, minor degradation, size kink (but reversed??? reader is not bigger than jeno but somehow jeno feels small and likes to feel like that), ch*king, names used for jeno (baby boy, good boy, pup/puppy, pretty boy), names used for reader (ma’am, miss, mommy), big d!ck jeno, there’s nothing wrong with being a sub but jeno has issues because he has to always be strong so it doesn’t feel right for him, count the times I say ‘please’ in this (not my fault jeno is the bestest boy ever), aftercare (and kink discussion)
𝐖𝐂: 10.202k
𝐀/𝐍: a gift for my love @yellowgirllsblog, I converted her to subjenoism so I’m on a mission to let more of you see the light of the day and appreciate sub!jeno more. ps: you will never catch me call twitter ‘x.’ enjoy and if you do, please reblog and leave feedback! love u!
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Jeno has a secret.
Once you’ll find out what it is, it won’t seem a big deal, but to him, it is.
It’s so big, so stressful, and so shameful, he can’t even talk to you — his sweet, loving girlfriend — about it.
It’s stupid, really. Deep down Jeno is well aware of how dumb it all sounds, but every time he faces it, it looks like a big mountain he can’t climb — and that will probably crumble on top of him, smashing him on the ground.
Stupid or not, big or small, it haunts him every day. Yes, every day. At first, Jeno thought it was just a temporary thing, something that piqued at his curiosity for fun, but soon enough, he fell down the rabbit hole. Looking back at it now, he probably was buried deep in the rabbit hole since forever but he —and the perception others had of him— did a good job at polishing the place real nice and don’t make him realize where he was.
Jeno accepted he is far gone a while ago, but he still can’t wrap his head around it. How is that possible? How could he, out of all the people, like something like this, be like this.
And that’s why he keeps it to himself, praying that if he doesn’t act on it, if he pushes it out of his mind, it will just leave. He’s strong, and fit, and he pounds into you every night, giving it to you like you want it. He can’t be anything else other than this, nothing but a confident, strong man that can’t be vulnerable.
But it turns out that pushing it out of his mind is not as easy as it seems. Jeno might be weaker than he realizes when he keeps going back at it, sipping on it at small doses, almost as if whatever he is holding in it’s a drug he doesn’t want to get addicted to — not knowing he already is. But for now — and forever, he thinks — this is just a fantasy, he can’t get addicted to something that is not real, to a version of him, no matter how authentic it feels, that can’t come out. But he slips further every day, hiding in your shared bedroom with his laptop or phone when you’re at work and he can have a bit of time to himself, when he stares at the box with your toys and lets time pass by because he doesn’t dare to do the next step, and lastly when he fucks his fist with your used panties and calls your name… or well, how he wishes he could call you.
And then clarity hits him again, making him groan as he rushes to the bathroom on wobbly legs, throwing your stained panties inside and starting the washing machine while he questions himself; why? He feels pathetic; masturbating over you as if he needs to fantasize about you, as if he doesn’t have you every night, and every day, and yet, it’s still not enough, it’s not how he wants you. But he feels guilty, he feels like he won’t be enough if he confessed to you, if he let you know his secret. And most of all, he’s terrified he’ll lose you. This version of him is not the one you picked, is not the one you love. And he’d damn himself forever if he lost you for something so silly.
So, he sighs, takes a deep breath, and then exhales deeply, rubbing his teary eyes before pushing his tired body up from the wall to walk back to your bedroom and fix himself.
Jeno has a secret, and he will take it to his grave.
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Your boyfriend has been acting strange for a while now. At first, you figured he was stressed because of work, but now, you don’t think that’s the only reason.
Your brain goes crazy, imagining the worst-case scenario, the top one: he wants to break up with you. So, you start acting strange, too. Panicking, over-analyzing everything, and mostly, bracing yourself for the worst. Every time he starts talking to you with a serious tone, you fear that those words will come out of his lips, especially when before starting the conversation he stares at you for minutes and thinks so loudly you can almost hear his thoughts.
But the worst never comes, this goes on for weeks, and even if your boyfriend does act strange, nothing of his weirdness leads to a breakup, literally nothing can make it plausible, and even your brain gives up keeping you up at night with the fear of you losing him.
Jeno has never been so touchy. His hands are always on your body, any excuse is valid to let his fingers wander on your skin; if he needs to help you pick up something, if he needs to reach for the remote, if he has to leave for work, anything as long as he gets to feel your warm body.
And that doesn’t shock you much, Jeno has always made it clear how much he finds you attractive and how obsessed and in love he is with you and your body, but well, not like this. His fingers seem almost fearful, and so are his lips when he kisses you, and even something about his eyes doesn’t seem quite right. And then there are those unsaid words that you can see pending from his lips, and yet, they never come out. Every phrase Jeno starts is followed by a stutter and a quick shake of the head, other times his cheeks turn bright red as he zones out and you have to shake him out of whatever he is thinking, and then he goes back to act though and shrug it all off as if nothing happened.
You don’t get it, and every time you try to ask if something’s wrong, he acts surprised and tells you everything’s alright. You don’t buy it, but you feel that if something’s annoying him, he will come talk to you when he’s ready, so you leave him alone.
Jeno has a secret, and you have to find out in a way you don’t like.
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You don’t like to roam around and stick your nose in things that aren’t yours, honestly, you hate doing so because you would hate if somebody did that with your things.
But you’re bored, laying on your bed, waiting for Jeno to come out of the shower, and your phone is somewhere in the living room, and you’re bored.
Picking up his phone to play some games is not an invasion of privacy, it’s the only thing you do with his phone, and Jeno is fine with it — he even lets you download those ugly, ads-filled, games that pop up in ads of other annoying games, he doesn’t get them, he hates the graphic of most of them, and he doesn’t understand how you can survive so many ads, but it’s fine, anything that makes you happy because you saved the King from drowning, cleaned a hotel room or built a pretty land.   
You would’ve minded your business if it wasn’t for one of those stupid games and ads, causing the app to crash and make you huff.
You’re pissed as you click the left bottom on the bottom of his screen to see all the apps and go back to your game, hoping it won’t die again, you’re so caught up that you almost miss the other window of Twitter and some other apps he used before.
But well, what you see is too shocking to make you go back to the business of your hotel.
You freeze, and a lump forms in your throat as you blink speechless with your mouth wide open. You feel the world could collapse under your feet but then you shake your head.
Dumb asshole, it’s fine. He might be bisexual, he’s not using you as a beard, right?
But you still stare at the video in shock, the only focus is on the naked man with a choker, moaning while the vibrator edges him, and the playful touches on his nipples make his hips rut.
And when Jeno comes out of the shower you’re still dumbfounded. Your eyes look up, and his smile drops as soon as he sees your face, it looks as if you saw a ghost, and he fears something has happened to you, but he barely manages to let out ‘are you ok?’ before you stop him.
“Are you gay?” You ask, nothing of the more rational questions you came up with before passing your lips.
He giggles nervously, eyes skimming you. “What?
You feel a lump in your throat and then reply. “What is this?” you lift the phone, video playing on mute, you can’t bear to hear the moans again. “Why are you watching porn and why are you watching porn focused on men? If you want to try something out you can tell me, but please, tell me I’m not your bearding girlfriend and this wasn’t all a lie.”
“A lie?” Jeno screams, feeling his heart pump hard in his chest. “It’s not and I’m not gay, I might be bi, but I never wanted to question much about it but... Wait, would it make you love me less?”
“No, God, no, but I don’t understand this,” you squeak, voice breaking a bit for the confusion you feel and also because his face dropped even more.
“It’s nothing,” Jeno says, abruptly taking the phone from your hand and closing the tab. His hands are shaking, he can’t believe he’s so fucking stupid, how could he not think about it? He always makes sure to close everything so that you can’t find out.
“Nothing?” You ask, eyes wide and a bit of sarcasm in your tone. “Why are you watching that kind of video...”
“I — I... It’s just something dumb the boys sent me,” he justifies, scratching his neck, but his eyes are everywhere except on yours.
You would believe him if only he wasn’t so evasive with his answers and body language, he’s a nerve wreck, he has to be hiding something. “Is it? Why would they do it?”
“I don’t know, you know they’re dumb,” he says and then pauses, biting his lips nervously before he gathers the courage to speak. “Did you watch it?”
You furrow, mumbling for a few seconds before replying as if it was obvious. “Yes.”
“All?”
“Yes, it’s not that long,” you reply without getting where he wants to go with these questions.  
Jeno nods and bites his lips, strategically avoiding your gaze.
“Jeno...” You call and he hesitantly raises his face. “Are you sure you’re not lying to me? If you like men and only them it’s fine, I would be heartbroken, but I want you to be happy, and I —”
“Stop it! It’s not that,” he snaps, face burning red when your eyes meet and you’re looking at him with curiosity. He feels doomed, you don’t even get it so how can you be into it?
“Oh.” You gasp. “Oh.” It clicks. Your mind replays the video, catching the details you missed, and you get it. He wants those things to be done to him. He doesn’t want a man; he wants you to do that to him.
Jeno stills, fearing the worst from you. “I’m not into it, that video just came up and I was curious,” he tries to save himself but it’s too late.
“No,” you stop him, “you are into it. Don’t lie to me,” your tone drops a bit, and you study his reaction, he trembles, and his face reddens even more. You’ve never seen him so embarrassed and vulnerable in all those years you’ve dated. Jeno, Lee Jeno, blushing bright red and stammering on his words right in front of your eyes. You’re dreaming, that must be it, maybe you have a fantasy you’re not aware of yet and this is your brain poking the thought into you.
But you shake your head, rub your eyes, and he’s still there.
“Jeno?” You call his name again when he gives you his back, quickly trying to find his clothes and make this less embarrassing, considering the only thing covering him is the white towel he put on before. “Look at me,” your voice comes out stern when he doesn’t listen to you and with a big step forward you have him trapped against the wall. Your fingers reach his chin, lifting his face resolutely.
But Jeno still doesn’t reply; you see his Adam’s apple move in his neck and you feel his breath get discontinued, but nothing comes from his mouth.
You have two choices; play the game he wants you to play or have a serious conversation about this. You’d rather go for the last one, you’re not so sure you’d be a master at doing what he wants you to do, but it seems like there’s no room for a decent talk right now.
You cup his chin, squeezing it enough that his lips pout, something he always does to you. His eyes widen, and his hand immediately wraps around your wrist, yet he doesn’t try to push you away.
“Tell me, Nono,” you coo, voice low and teasing, “do you want to be teased like that?”
He shakes his head, quick movements causing some still damp strands of hair to fall on his eyes, “No, no, I don’t.”
You scoff, shaking your head before leaning closer. “Why are you lying to me?”
He mumbles, struggling to talk for the embarrassment and the hold you have on his face. “I’m not,” he cries out.
“Oh, really?” You ask, letting his face go, making him lose his balance now that he can’t hold onto you. “Then you have nothing to hide, right?” He nods, biting his thumb and looking at you like a dog with his tail between his legs. “So, I guess you won’t mind if I took your phone right now, right?”
His eyes widen and his thumb falls from his lips. “Bu-but wh-why?”
You burst out laughing, holding your stomach in an exaggerated mocking move. “Bu-but wh-why?” you taunt him, imitating his high-pitched trembling voice. “Phone, now.”
Jeno’s not sure how to feel. This is what he wanted, right? And you don’t seem… mad. So why does he feel so embarrassed as he grabs the phone and hands it to you?
You smile and then open Twitter. You notice he has two accounts and when you scroll through the likes, the retweets, and more, you’re speechless. Well, now that you have him in front of you, so pliant, shaking, and red in the face, it’s not surprising anymore, but the Jeno you’re used to is not like this.
Men tied up and edged until they whimper and beg to come, rough face sitting, pegging videos, and captions about ‘good boys’ being used as sex toys by their ‘dominant mommy’, are all you see. You sigh and throw the phone on the bed carelessly.
“I’m sorry,” Jeno cries out, falling on his knees right in front of you. “I didn’t mean to disappoint you. I don’t need that, I swear I don’t, I can still be your usual boyfriend, I’ll fuck you so good, I promise I —”
You shut him up with a kiss, it’s rough and quick, enough to leave him surprised and, momentary, speechless. “Will you stop mumbling no-sense?”
“But I —”
“No, shh,” you say, thumb on his lips to keep him quiet. “Did I say anything? Did I look disappointed?” You ask, tilting your head to the side and he shakes his head. Honestly, he has no idea, he was too worried panicking to actually pay attention to your reaction. “Did I ask you to apologize? Do I look disgusted to you?”
“N-no,” he mumbles, but his eyes are still leaking tears.
“No, exactly,” you reassure. Your hand moves to the back of his neck, wrapping around the long hair at the nape before tugging and yanking his head back. “Now can we be serious and face this or do you want to keep crying at my feet?”
That shouldn’t make his dick twitch in the — now incredibly tight —towel but it does, still, he hopes you didn’t catch it, and nods swiftly.
“Good,” you smile slyly. You saw it, but that’s something you’re going to deal with later. “Stop lying and be honest with me. Do you want me to do this to you?” Your other hand moves down on his neck, creeping on his toned chest until it reaches his hard nipples, and when you brush one, he whimpers. Jeno tries to hide it, closing his eyes and pressing his lips together, but his body is reacting on its own, and it has never been more of an open book.
You never paid his body much attention, always letting him do anything to you, so this is… new, and interesting.
Your fingers play with the other one, rubbing against the sensitive tip and watching him struggle to keep it all in. “Sensitive much, aren’t you?”
He nods quickly, head falling down but you tug it back again, making him groan lowly.
“Head up,” you order, leaning down to come face to face, breath fanning against his, “and answer me. Do you like it when I play with your nipples?”
“Yeah — yeah, I like it,” he breathes out, leaning in to kiss your lips but you pull away.
“Ah, ah,” you click your tongue, shaking your head, “not yet, baby boy. You’ve been naughty, keeping important things from me. So now you’re going to earn it, alright?”
Jeno nods faster than he would want to, hips shaking on his heels in excitement like a dog wagging his tail.
You think it’s cute, he’s cute. And you still don’t quite know how to do this, how to be on the other side, but something inside of you makes you feel confident enough to think it’s worth giving a try. You like to be on the receiving end, so you have to give him what you usually like to receive. Also, you’ve encountered femdom content before, even liked it, never explored it much, but this might be fun.
“Words.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
You raise a brow at the title, but you like the way it rolls from his lips, and it makes your body react, pussy clenching around nothing and stomach twisting in anticipation.
“Good boy,” you reward him. You love being called a good girl, so you think he’s going to like that too, and he does. His smile grows bigger, cheeks tinting red again, and most importantly, his dick reacts, twitching against the towel.
You think it’s time to set it free, so your hand grabs the hem and pulls the white clothes off him. Jeno whimpers, hands quickly going to cover his hard, throbbing dick — well, trying to, it’s too big to hide anything.
You laugh at his lame attempt, slapping his hands away. “Getting shy now? I’ve seen it and felt it countless times, don’t you agree? Or, I don’t know, have you forgotten? Maybe your brain stops working when you’re… like this,” you finish with a teasing look from his head to his bent knees, rubbing against the hard floor and becoming red.
Jeno shivers, shaking his head, but for some reason, he feels even more embarrassed. He’s not used to being in this position, and all the times he imagined to be here, he didn’t think you would be like this. You’re not much shorter than him, but you are, and now you’re towering over him, your gaze is piercing through his soul, and your voice is sultry like it has never been. He wanted this so badly but even if he fantasized for months, now, he doubts he can take you.
You sigh, rolling your head. “How many times do I have to say it? Words.”
Jeno frowns momentarily, he knows you’re having a ball because usually, he wants you to talk back to him even if he’s fucking the fourth orgasm out of you. But his ‘anger’ doesn’t last. He nods, and then apologizes. “Sorry, I’m so sorry, ma’am. You can see it.”
“Of course, I can,” you say, kneeling to his eye level, “it’s mine.” Two of your fingers brush on his hard cock, tracing the thick vein that run on the side, the one that rub your sensitive walls so good when he’s pounding into you.
He nods quickly, swallowing hard to don’t moan shamelessly, and then stutters on his words. “You-yours. You can do — do whatever you want.”
You smile widely and tilt your head because it’s not a dominant smile. You might like this a lot. You might like this more than you anticipated. There’s something thrilling about having him like this, in your hands, to play with, to tease, to edge, to push to the limit. He’s yours, like always, and yet, in a way he has never been.
“Tell me what you want me to do?” You order, those videos are not enough to give you the green light. You need to hear it from him, a bit because you’re lost on your path, but also because you need to hear him describe those things out loud and beg you to do that to him.
Jeno thinks his face might burn up in a second. Sure, if he ever dared to bring this up to you in a conversation, he would’ve had to explain it to you, but he would’ve been dressed, not hard, and his brain would’ve been functioning. Now he’s none of these things. Yet, he tries.
“I — I want you,” he starts, wetting his lips. but he fails to find the words. You want explicit things, he knows it, he can see it in your eyes burning up with desire, but he wants to be honest first, at least now that he has a bit of rationality left. “I want to be your good boy. I want to — to just give up control for once and let you do everything. I want you to control me, to move me around, to make me feel light, to make me feel like I’m… nothing but not really nothing, I want to…” he gulps, forcing himself to keep eye contact because he wants to be good, but it’s not easy. Nothing happened yet, and he’s already a victim of the electricity that’s running in the air. “I want to don’t think. I want you to fuck my brain out until I forget who I am, I want you to tell me what to do, to order it to me. But I also want to feel safe… taken care of.”
It takes you a while to metabolize everything he told you, especially the last part, and you put a reminder in your brain to discuss that later. But now you kiss him, finally giving him what he craves. You wanted to make him wait a bit longer, but you feel like he needs it. It seems that all of this has been bothering him more than you think, and he needs comfort.
“And I’m going to give it to you, if you trust me,” you say when you pull away, softly caressing his cheek with your other hand.
“I do, I trust you,” he replies, hips rubbing against your hand. You give him a quick, stern look and he stops, smile dropping.
“Get on the bed and you won’t have to hump my hand like a puppy in heat,” you order and he’s quickly — stumbling and almost falling — on his feet, walking to the bed.
Once he’s laying on the bed, you follow him, crawling on top of him, your legs trapping him down. You leave kisses on his neck, and as a response his head rolls back, leaving you more room to paint his skin with bites and kisses. And while he’s distracted with that, your hands reach his nipples. His hips buck up and he whimpers.
He’s so sensitive, you can’t believe you didn’t discover this before.
Your fingers play with his sensitive buds, at first, you just rub your fingers on them, but then you get more adventurous studying his reaction. Jeno likes it when you pinch them between two fingers, it makes him hiss and moan, while his hips grind against you. He also likes it when you roll them, low curses escaping his tortured pink lips.
After a while, you decide to pay attention to his whole chest. You won’t lie, you always loved his tits, but you appreciated them from afar, when they were wrapped under the skintight white shirt he loves to wear, or when they played hide and seek under his loose tank tops. When he fucks you, your hands always wander somewhere else, busy trying to hold onto his arms and back for dear life. But now, your hands caress his skin, cupping them as you try to hide a giggle and stay in your role — you definitely need to work on your dominance — and tease his nipples every now and then.
“Fuck,” Jeno bites his tongue, dick rutting against your body, droplets of white shamelessly dripping from his head, staining his length and abs.
“You’re so sensitive it’s almost pathetic,” you try out, testing the waters. You fear you might trigger him, but instead, he moans louder at your words, throwing his head back more, and his dick throbs. “I’m barely touching you and you’re already a mess. You dreamed this so long, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he whimpers, his hips still grinding against you, desperately chasing for release, but you pull away. “No, please,” his voice breaks and tears swell at the corner of his eyes. Jeno is so fucking pretty like this, you have to fight back the urge to reach for the phone and snap a picture.
“Just relax, and focus on the parts I’m touching,” you say, kissing him to shut his whines down. “Let me take care of you.”
And he would, he does, he wants you to take care of him. If only this wasn’t so embarrassing, whimpering and squirming just from having his nipples played with. He wants to hold it in, he can push back an orgasm, but all his good intentions fly out of the window when your mouth wraps around the left sensitive one and your fingers pinch and twist the other one.
It’s not his fault he’s so sensitive.
“Oh God,” he cries out through gritted teeth, knuckles going white for how hard his hands are clenching around the sheets. Jeno feels dizzy, your mouth sucks harshly on his sensitive spot, quickly moving from one side to the other, never leaving him with no stimulation, your fingers are just as swift at taking the place your lips left. “Please, please, fuck,” he begs, hips stuttering messily, and legs parting as his body jerks with pleasure.
“Be a good boy and come for me,” you mumble against his skin, eyes looking up at his. And that’s the last drop for him; the realization that you saw him — and made him — this weak, even the slight humiliation he feels with it.
Jeno comes undone. Long, whiny moans and whimpers slurring out of his plump lips as his body stills before breaking into violent trembles, it’s powerful and overwhelming, and it makes him cry. Mumbles of your name follow when you don’t stop, fingers and tongue moving quickly on his nipples.
“Please, please, stop,” he cries, trying to push you away, “can’t take it anymore.”
You pull away, snickering as you watch the cum drip down his body. His chest is heaving, and his body is slumped against the headboard.
“Was it good?”
Jeno nods, his movements are slow, and his eyelids are almost close, but he still makes out your face, and smiles shyly. “More,” he begs and then adds, “please. If you want to.”
You smile, he’s so polite. “Are you sure you can take more?”
“Yes, yes, I just — I needed to calm down,” he explains, running a hand through his hair that covered his eyes messily.
“Lay on the bed,” you order before standing up.
He follows your order, feeling his body ache as he gets in position, but it all fades in the background when his gaze falls on your body, watching you move to throw your clothes on the floor.
“So,” you’re on top of him, you got rid of your skirt and top, the only clothes on your body are your — drenched — panties and the bra, “what do you want me to do with you?”
Jeno thought the embarrassing part had passed, but, lord, if he was wrong. Because he’s not prepared in the slightest to ask you what he’s about to ask. You will break up with him, this will be the last straw.
“Pup?” Your voice brings him out of his delirium, and he coughs. “You with me?”
He nods, struggling to find the words. “Please,” he whines, “don’t — don’t leave me.”
“Leave you?” You ask, a small frown forms on your forehead while your head lightly bends to the side to look at him. You almost look so innocent and harmless like this, but you’re not. You have all the power and control, and Jeno loves this and hates this at the same time. Maybe all of this is more mental than what he thought in the first place, or maybe he needs to relax, stop worrying so much, and just beg you. Beg you to fuck him, beg you to turn him into a brainless mess in the same way he had done in these past few months: pleading with his face smashed against a pillow to muffle his pathetic moans and his fist wrapped around his cock or his fingers inside of him, fooling himself that was you doing that to him.
“Please, fuck me,” he breaks, eyes panicking and looking around the room before you grab his face with a strong old on his chin.
“Say it again,” you order. Your face is relaxed now and the pout on your lips is rapidly swiped away by a sly smirk.  
“Please, please, fuck me, ma’am?” He asks, eyes softening as he looks into yours. He’s such a good boy, so obedient, so, so good. So, you’re about to give him what he wants, and what you want, grabbing the base of his hardening dick and teasing it against your pussy, moving the crotch of the panties to the side, but he surprises you.
“No,” Jeno cries, voice breaking again, “not like this. Not now.”
You stop, stilling and looking at him, eyes blinking as you try to understand what he means. “Not like this? And how do you want me to fuck you?”
“I — I,” he stutters, flashes of warmth heating his body up again, not that it ever really stopped, to be honest, it just keeps getting worse.
“You — you?” You urge, mocking him, mimicking his voice with a condescending tone.  
He frowns offended — and his dick throbs, but he won’t pay attention to that — but then goes on. “I want your — your fingers.”
“Oh,” you say, a smug grin on your face. “A handjob?” You know what he wants, you know where he wants it, but what you want, is to mess up with him.
“No, no,” he whines, shaking his head, reaching for your hand with his before you slap it away, making him groan in annoyance. “Please.”
“Please and no, are those the words that a good pup says?”
“No, miss, I’m sorry.”
“Good, then use your big boy words and tell me what you want. Details, or I won’t give it to you.”
Jeno swallows, inhaling deeply before confessing. “I want your fingers in my ass, please. I want you to fuck me with your fingers, miss.”
“Oh, now that’s clear,” you say, smiling tenderly and patting his head. He melts under your touch, and you keep a reminder to yourself to head pat him more often. “Good boy, telling me exactly what he needs.”
You get up to grab the lube from the drawer but when you open it, it’s not there. You scowl, scratching your head as you try to remember if you finished it and didn’t buy it again, but you don’t use it that often, so it can’t be.
“Where the hell —” you stop when, turning around, you see the blue bottle peeking from under the bed, you kneel to grab it and see that it’s badly closed. “You fucked yourself before?” You enquire, tilting your head, watching his face flush bright red even more, he tries to avoid your gaze, but you trot to him and force his face on you. “You were so desperate you couldn’t help but fuck yourself with your fingers?”
“I’m — I’m sorry, miss, I didn’t mean to,” he justifies, throat dry and heart beating fast. He doesn’t want to disappoint you, he would’ve waited, he wouldn’t have done that, but he needed that, he was terrible at putting this fantasy behind and he needed a release. But he’s still you’re good boy, right? You’re not mad at him for this?
You scoff, clicking your tongue, crawling on the bed. “You didn’t mean to, sure… fucking yourself behind my back, pff,” you scoff. “Tell me, were you thinking of me? My fingers deep inside of you? My hand wrapped around the base of your cock?” Jeno nods eagerly as you pour lube on your fingertips. “Were you calling my name? Whimpering like the desperate puppy that you are? Calling me ma’am and miss, maybe even mommy when you fuck yourself good enough,” all throughout the talk your fingers slip deep inside of him, making him gasp and hold onto the sheets under him.
“Fuck,” he curses, not expecting you to push two fingers inside with no warning. But the surprise turns into bliss in the beat of an eye. Your fingers are slender, and yes, they’re not as long and thick as his are, but they are yours. And you’re so good at moving them inside of him, curling them up, moving them with a firm rhythm, reaching the bottom, and then pulling out, that he has nothing to complain about. “Feels so good,” he somehow manages to let you know. You think it’s cute, his voice doesn’t sound like the usual, it’s whiny, trembling, and full of desperation. His eyes are watery, and you think the red on his cheeks won’t disappear soon.
Jeno is lost in the pleasure, thinking he has never felt better, he’s almost relaxed, lulling in the sensation that sends sparks down his spine. But you want to give him more and your other hand folds his balls, making him hiss and shaking him out of that haze.
“It’s alright, baby boy,” you reassure him, but he’s not sure. Especially when you spit on his dick, adding to the mess of his cum, and run your hand on his length. He wishes you would keep doing this, but instead, you torture him; while your fingers work him open, your hand focuses on his frenulum, massaging his most sensitive spot until he’s a crying and trembling mess again.
“No, no,” he whines when your lips start kissing his leaking tip. “Sensitive — I’m…” his voice breaks and dies in his throat when your lips wrap around it. He has you everywhere and he’s not used to this. He’s not used to feeling so much and giving so little — in his mind, to give you nothing, but to you, he’s giving you a lot. This vulnerable side of him is much more than anything else. “I — I can touch you, I can —”
You shut him up with a slap on his thigh. “You can lay there and take it,” you say firmly but without stopping your movements.
He nods quickly, lips pressed in a thin line, but the pleasure is so big that his moans and whimpers just rumble in his chest.
“Moan, Jeno,” you call him out. “I want to hear you moan for me.”
“But —”
“But?” You scold, glaring at him and stilling your fingers inside him. “Are you going to talk back to me and tell me what to do?” He shakes his head quickly, mumbling apologizes. “I think so, do you want to be my good boy?”
“Yes, yes, please,” he cries, hips bucking up, at first you think he’s doing that to feel your fingers but he’s just that desperate. He truly acts like a puppy too excited to be your good boy to even think straight, his body moving on its own. If he had a tail, he would wiggle it like crazy.
“You want to be my good pup?” You ask again, your fingers pull out and then push in, dragging a low gasp from his lips.
“Yes, I want to. Want to be your good puppy, please.”
“Then do what I tell you to do,” you remind him, your hands go back to his cock, throbbing on his abs and leaking pre-cum. It’s almost… funny how big he is —body and dick— and how helpless and powerless he looks, begging for attention as if he couldn’t just take it from you, ordering you, fucking you. But he lays there, pathetically drooling on the pillow, while his dick drips on his stomach and his ass clenches around your two fingers.
His sounds are like music to your ears, and the vision in front of your eyes makes your pussy drool more, you can’t believe you’re so turned on when fifteen minutes ago you were almost throwing a tantrum for this. But Jeno looks like the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, and you wonder if he feels this way when it’s the other way around. All you know is that you’re mesmerized, eyes stuck where your bodies connect, his hole fluttering around you, the lube squelching in and out, and his toned, strong legs spread open just for you. Then they move up, the way his dick is throbbing in your hand and spills pre-cum, his chest rising fast, his hands clenched around the sheets. And his face, his eyes are closed but you know they’re rolled back behind his eyelids, his lips are swollen and dark pink, parted open to fill the room with the most desperate whines, his hair is a mess again, scattered around the pillow and his forehead.
“Fuck, fuck,” he whines, lifting his hips from the mattress when you hit him deeper and your hand starts moving faster on him. “Feels good, feels so good, you’re so good, you’re — you’re perfect, I love you, I love you,” he cries out, head rolled back as he lets the pleasure rush through his body.
You smirk at his words, the desperation and devotion behind his voice making shivers run down your spine. “Are you going to come?” You ask, already knowing the answer, watching him nod quickly. “Yeah? Will you be a good boy and come from my fingers only?” Your hand leaves his dick, eliciting a disappointed noise from him, but his breath gets cut off when you add another finger inside of him.
“Please,” he cries, the stretch of the three fingers making his hips move even more from the mattress, only to stop when your hand, flat on his stomach, keeps him pinned down.
“Stop squirming, or I won’t make you come and keep edging you until you pass out.”
It should be a threat, but it doesn’t even sound so bad to him, but not now, maybe one day, now he wants you, and wants to come as soon as possible. So, his hips still, the nervous twitching passing down to his leg but it’s fine, it doesn’t get in the way.
“Good boy,” you praise, patting his head, and making him smile. “Be even a better boy and come for me.”
You don’t have to tell him twice before his orgasm erupts, his body shakes before stilling completely, spurts of white spilling on his stomach, even reaching the sheets as his cock throbs in release and his hole flutters around your three fingers that are still pumping in and out at a fast speed. Slurs of curses roll from his tongue, and so does your name, while his chest rises fast before his body slumps against the mattress.
“Please, please, stop,” he cries out, feeling overstimulated.
You listen, pulling your fingers out and cleaning them on his thigh before leaning forward to kiss him.
“Want you, mommy, please,” he pleads, tears rolling down his temple while his hands look for the warmth of your body. “Please, fuck me, need to feel you.”
“Calm down,” you say, giggling at his cuteness and eagerness and get rid of your panties, throwing them behind with no care, and then follows the bra.
Jeno feels less embarrassed now that you’re exposed too, and gets lost in your body for a few seconds before he bites back a moan when your warm and wet skin makes contact with him. “I — I can fuck you, I can make you feel good, too,” he promises. “Be your good boy and fu–fuck you well.”
You smile tenderly, teasing him as you grind your hips rubbing your pussy on his dick that’s resting on his stomach. “Oh, I know you can.”
“Please, please,” Jeno cries out more. His dick is incredibly sensitive, it’s painfully aching, begging to be wrapped by something after all this teasing. You barely paid it any attention this whole time. “Let me be your good boy, use me,” his voice breaks and he almost chokes on his words as his pleading eyes stare at you for mercy. “Use my — use my cock as you please. Use me like your toy,” he says, “your good toy.”
It almost breaks your heart; he needs validation so badly and you feel genuinely bad for never noticing this before. You just thought he was always so strong and confident; you didn’t think he needed reassurance so much.
“Here, pup,” you say, sinking into him.
Jeno’s head rolls back, his hands clasping around your waist, but his hold, even if it’s strong, is different from all the other times before.
“Fuck, mommy, feel so good.” The way your warm walls wrap around him send him straight to heaven, you’re wet and fit perfectly around him.
“Yeah, you too, baby. You feel so good,” you curse through gritted teeth. He might be a mess underneath you, whimpering, crying, and begging, but that doesn’t make his cock shrink. Jeno’s big, and you should be used to it by now, but somehow it still feels like it splits you open every time.
“Please, fuck me!” Jeno laments loudly, bouncing his hips against yours, but a stern look from you makes him stop and apologize, “So-sorry, fuck me, please?” This time his voice is soft and polite, a desperate edge but with no eagerness behind — yes, there is, but he tries hard not to show it.
“Oh, fuck,” he screams when you lift your body up and slam back into him. You’re a lazy rider usually, and to be more honest, you’re just never a rider, 90% of the time riding his dick is a punishment to make you work for it, but now… well, you kept your skills well stored in. “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” he whimpers, hands clenching hard around your waist until his knuckles go white.
“What? You wanted me to fuck you so badly, and now? Bit more than you can chew? Is this too much for you, pretty boy? You can’t take it?”
Jeno shakes his head. “No, no I can, ma’am, I can,” he whimpers, biting his lips harshly.
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” you hum in satisfaction. Your hands fall at the sides of his head, your smaller body somehow still hovers over him and makes him feel smaller than ever. Your intense stare pins him to the mattress even more, making him shiver. “Give me your hands,” you order, but Jeno doesn’t listen — he doesn’t even hear, too lost in you to pay attention to your voice. “God,” you huff, rolling your eyes back, “I really have to do everything on my own because you’re just that dumb.” You forcefully grab his wrists, pushing his arms over his head and keeping them locked against the bed.
“No, I’m — I’m sorry, I — I wasn’t.”
“Yeah, you weren’t,” you mock, stilling before starting to pick up the pace again, “you weren’t listening ‘cause you can only focus on how good I’m making you feel, right? Stupid, dumb puppy can only think about his pleasure.”
“No, no, please, forgive me,” he begs, tears streaking down his face, and words coming out between gags and moans.  
“Can you fuck back into me? Or are you too fucked out to do that?”
“No, no, I can. I’ll be good, I’ll be good for you, miss,” he promises, lifting his hips to meet you halfway, but his body feels so heavy and his brain is mush, unable to send signals to his muscles.
Your head rolls back and your hands wrap tighter around his wrists, you find yourself grinding against him, rubbing your clit every time you bottom all the way down. But Jeno’s thrusts are sloppy and messy, he’s not even that bad when he’s about to come. “Stupid puppy,” you taunt, slapping his ass. “Can’t even fuck me after all the pleasure I gave you.”
Jeno sobs, literally, loud cries coming from the back of his throat making him almost choke, and you’re about to stop everything in worry before you realize that’s not because you went too far — partially, maybe, he’s not really happy to be said he’s bad — but because he’s close again and he loves the way you talk down to him and slap him.
“Are you coming again?” You ask in utter surprise because you can’t believe it.
But he shakes his head, he’s fighting against himself to hold it back, and for the sake of having at least an orgasm too, you stop your movements.
“I won’t — won’t come,” he mumbles, lips quivering. “Can’t you… can’t you just use me?” he wails. “Please, I’m too tired. Just… use me like a…” The last words are a slur lower than a whisper, and his head turned to the side doesn’t help you hearing what he said.
You tilt your head to the side, cupping his chin to force him to look at you. “Repeat loud and clear if you don’t want to regret it.”
Jeno gulps, nodding vigorously, but his voice still shakes, and his cheeks burn red again as he repeats. “Use me like a dildo, please.”
“Oh… so, this is how you want to be good to me?” You ask, grinding your hips against him, the stimulation is bare for you but so much for him that you trigger whines and whimpers out of him.
“But it will feel good, even if I don’t move, you know it,” he tries to reason, pleading with his glossy eyes. “I can eat you out after, or — or now, whatever you please, miss.”
“Whatever I please, uhm?” You ask, grinning.
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll do whatever you want.”
You smile, caressing his face, smearing the wet mess around before your hand pats his head. “You’re lucky I want you exactly like this, like a toy.” You start fucking him with no warning, and a gasp rips from his vocal cords before he starts moaning again.
His eyes roll back at each of your hard thrusts, and you see his hands itch because he can’t touch you, but you don’t loosen the hold on him. You feel strong, a kind of power you didn’t even know you had in you, and you don’t want this to stop.
Jeno’s entire body trembles when your hand wraps around his neck, squeezing just enough to dim the flow of air in his lungs. It’s hot but unexpected, just like it’s unexpected that he almost comes on the spot.
“Oh, oh,” you hum in delight, the corner of your lips lifting as you stare at him. “You like it…” Jeno tries to deny but you can read his body; you felt his dick throb inside of you, his eyes flicker to you in light panic before rolling in his skull again, and his breath falter. “Don’t deny it, it wouldn’t be the most pathetic thing you get off to,” you mock, making him blush again. “It’s alright, you can be my naughty boy, I won’t judge.”
He can only hum, and now that you look better in his eyes, you see there’s something completely different behind them. He’s in a completely different headspace, and you fear he won’t last much longer.
It’s the same for you, the thrill and adrenaline can only push you so far, you’re not used to this, bouncing your hips harshly on his cock and having control, your thighs are starting to scream, and your brain doesn’t want to pay them attention but you both know you’re both at the finish line for this first time. Not to add, you’re in desperate need of an orgasm.
“Ti-tight,” Jeno gasps when your hold on his neck loosens enough to let him breathe in normally again, just the time that he can take a few breaths before it fastens again, it’s not too tight, it’s your first time, you don’t want to end with him passed out on the floor, but it’s enough to do its job.
“Yeah? Too tight for you? Can’t take it?”
He moves his head randomly, frenetic movements as he moves his lips to talk, useless. Your cunt is sucking away every coherent thought in his mind, the only thing filling his brain: you and the need to release.
“Don’t talk, don’t need it. I know you’re too sensitive, wanted me so much only to shake underneath me because I’m fucking you too well. Can’t even form a coherent thought in that stupid, little brain of yours, can you?”
He shakes his head, tears streaming down, but you kiss them — lick them — away.
“It’s alright, I don’t want you to think. I like it when your brain is empty. Your just my pretty boy, right? Pretty, good boy that let’s mommy fuck him?”
His nods are eager, and without even realizing his tongue lolls out. You pout at the view, patting his head when you let go of his neck, making him breathe. “Good pup. Just look pretty for me.”
“Pre-pretty,” he whimpers before a fucked-out smile paints his face.
“Yes, baby, you are,” you kiss his lips, petting his hair another time.
“Co-come, wanna come, please. Let me — let me come, ma’am,” he cries out when he has enough air in his lungs and sense in his brain. “Be-begging. I’m beg — mmph,” his words die in his mouth and his eyes squeeze tight when you voluntarily squeeze harder around him.
“Begging? Is this how a good boy begs?” You ask, looking at him sternly, not that it lasts long, because when his eyes open into yours, you fold.
“’M sorry, so-sorry,” he apologizes, “please, miss, let me come, let me come inside of you, let me fill you up. You’ll — you’ll feel good, I promise,” his words are all slurred out together, spit drips from his lips down to his chin and neck, and his body is burning up, if it didn’t mean to edge and denying an orgasm to yourself too, you would probably push him farther, curious to see how far he can go. But for now, it’s fine, he’s a good boy, he deserves it, and so do you.
“Please, please, please, ma’am.”
“You’ve been so good, baby. You can come.”
When you give him the green light, his body explodes, his hips even shyly chase the orgasm up against you, fucking back into you lazily. His head rolls back and as soon as your hand sets him free, his hands find your hips, holding them tight, hissing and groaning when you hold yourself up on his chest, nails digging into his skin as your body keeps bouncing up and down, riding your orgasms.
Your body collapses on his, exhausted and boneless just like his, and his arms wrap around it right away while he still sobs and whimpers in the crook of your neck.
“Shh, it’s alright, you’re alright,” you whisper in his ear while your hand caress his hair, wet again but not with water.
“Don’t — don’t pull out,” he whines when you lift your body, “nooo, don’t leave me.”
“I’m here,” you reassure him right away, carrying his body with yours so you lay on the side and can pull him in a hug. “I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good,” he mumbles, hiding between your chest and neck. “Tha-thank you, mhh, thank you for —” his voice breaks and his sobs get a bit louder as he hides more in your hold.  
“Hey, it’s fine, take your time,” you say, still soothing him with circular movements on his back and soft rubs on his hair.
Jeno wants to talk, he has many things to say, damn, even an explanation to give to you, but he feels his body is heavy, he feels on a cloud, and you are the softness all over him, he feels safe, something he’s not used to feeling. You didn’t get mad at this, you won’t get mad if he falls asleep for a while, right? If he lulls in this sense of comfort and the aftermaths of what happened.
And almost as if you read his mind… “You can sleep if you want,” you say, kissing his forehead gently and rubbing his nape.
And he has no strength to reply as his body falls into a deep sleep.  
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When he wakes up, he’s not naked anymore, a big white shirt is around his body, covering just enough so he’s not completely exposed. The mattress is stripped from the dirty sheets and there’s a glass of water on the bedside table, but you’re not next to him.
Jeno almost panics, feeling the post-nut clarity made you run away scared and disgusted, but then the door opens, and you’re there. And it’s the same you he loves deeply. He can breathe again.
“Oh, hi, babe,” you greet with a big smile. You’re holding something in your hands and you’re wearing one of his shirts. “Feeling better?”
Jeno gulps, nodding and smiling at you, words are hard to find.
“Still too fucked out to talk?” You joke, slumping on the bed next to him, handing him the package of his favorite snacks. “Figured you needed some sugar after all that whimpering and squirming.”
“Oh, please, shut up,” he says, hiding his red face behind his hands.
“Hey, you were cute,” you say, grabbing his hands to move them out of the way. “I — I liked it. Did you?”
He nods quickly, okay maybe he’s still a little into that headspace.
You smile and then pout. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about it. I’m always so loud and open about everything I want to try and… it never crossed my mind you might have different needs. I don’t know if you’re hiding anything else, but you can talk to me about everything. I love you and even if I might not be into something I won’t let it be the reason for a break-up, or a fight, or worse, making fun of you,” you say, grabbing his hands. “We can always try and then see the outcome. I mean, all that dominance before was improvisation, I was nervous as fuck too, I just tried to act like you usually do, tell me I was good,” you say, scrunching your face as you wait for his opinion.
Jeno laughs, it’s a genuine laugh, and you can almost see the weight being lifted off his chest. You still feel guilty for not making it feel like you could be a safe place for him, but it’s over now.
“You were really good,” he reassures you. “And… yes, I was a bit afraid of your reaction, but it was also something that had to do with myself. I’m — I’ve always been the strong one since I was a kid and then growing up it also turned into being this big ass man with muscles, so the pressure didn’t help.”
You nod in understanding. It makes you feel a bit less guilty, but you feel like there’s something else. “Is this all?”
“I also always have to be confident, but… I get insecure. I just feel like people are so used to me never making mistakes that they don’t even see my struggles or how hard I work for things, so all my hard work goes unnoticed. But I… I want to be… praised, I want to be told I’m doing good, I want people to tell me they’re proud of me.”
You cup his cheek gently and then kiss his nose, making him giggle. “I’m so proud of you, I tell you that, don’t I?”
“Yeah, you do, you’re the only one,” he says, leg bouncing nervously as he tries to find the words. But you’re holding his hand, rubbing circles on his palm and that’s calming him down a bit, or maybe not because he feels like he’s about to cry again.
“Hey,” you caress his chin and then rub your thumb on his cheek, your touch is soft, and his brain shuts off once again. It’s like he’s taking back all the wasted time he had to act tough and don’t melt in your touch. “I’m here, alright? Take your time.”  
Jeno nods, small hums slipping out of his lips before he finds the courage to talk. “I don’t know, sometimes I just… I want to feel small. And I want to be the one getting cuddled and petted, and just taken care of. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love doing that for you, but… I always see you being so carefree when you’re with me and sometimes I get… so, so jealous because you can… you can loosen up, turn your brain off and no one will judge you. But if I do it, if I get… vulnerable in your hands, I don’t know what people will say.”
You caress his cheek before your hand runs in his hair, not only because it’s covering his handsome face again, but also because you learned he likes it a lot, and as expected, he smiles. “Do people need to know?”
He tilts his head and furrows in confusion. “They don’t?”
“I doubt people care about our sexual life, or what we do in our home. So, this can be our secret, at least until you’ll feel comfortable enough to let loose even outside of these walls. If you’ll share this with me, it will be less heavy, right?”
Jeno nods, smiling and pushing back tears.
“Hey, crybaby today, aren’t you? Come here,” you say, pulling him into a hug. He holds you tight, still afraid you might slip from his hold, and breathes deep your scent.
When you pull away, Jeno’s looking into your eyes and you hum to signal him he can talk.
“Thank you, I don’t know what I would do without you. Seriously, you made me feel safe and not judged, it means the world to me.”
“It’s the way you make me feel always, I’m glad you could feel that way too. And I proved I can protect you even if I don’t have all your muscles,” you joke, lifting your arm and flexing your not-trained bicep, making him laugh. “But seriously, I would never judge you, and I really love this version of you, so, unleash it more often.”
Jeno smiles widely, his eyes turning up in his usual half-moons, and then he lays on the bed, tapping the space next to him. You beam and crawl next to him, pulling him closer again, his head rests on your chest while your hands caress his hair and you just relax in the silence of the house.
“I love you,” you whisper, kissing the top of his head, his hair tickling you for a second. “And I’ll love every version of you, in any universe.”
Jeno still has a secret, but luckily, he has you to share it with.
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𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @rbf-aceu ; @shiningnono ; @jaeminsbebu | general taglist: @froggyforyoongi , @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo
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strawberrystepmom · 8 months
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cw children, cw families. gojo and f!reader were idiots in love and they are now married and have a baby. my effortlessly good painter gojo hc won out over being normal in my brain today so yeah. reader is referred to as mom/mama/mother and princess, satoru makes a joke about readers breasts. wc 1.1k
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Your morning has started far quieter than they usually do.
The day is overcast, no sunshine through your floor to ceiling bedroom windows, but you don’t mind. It feels good to embrace the cloudy days that have come with the changing of seasons, no harsh light to shock you awake. That job will be for your identical menaces in the coming months, the gummy smile of your morning person nine month old and her unabashedly obsessed father Satoru always eager to be your twin alarm clocks with their giggling and playful babbling at each other.
There’s nothing they love more than giving you the gift of four identical blue eyes blinking at you while you come to your senses every morning. You can almost admit aloud that you’ve become a morning person since becoming a parent, the delightful giggles of your daughter giving you the motivation to conquer anything and everything you can.
For today though, you wake gently, softly rolling from your side to flat on your back but something feels off. There are no hushed giggles, no silly songs being recited with children’s show host precision.
Your bed is empty and quiet and you feel…sad. Perhaps in the past you would’ve found this to be a luxury - no freakishly long limbs of your husband starfished across the bed to keep you pinned to it, no baby to tug at the earrings you forgot to take out last night, but instead it just feels like a less welcome start to the day.
Lingering in bed doesn’t feel good so you roll again, dropping your legs over the edge and sliding your feet into your waiting slippers. Scuffing across the floor, you yawn and stop in your tracks hearing voices from inside Satoru’s closet.
Well, a voice and some baby giggles, anyway.
“Can you say mama?”
Leaning against the door frame of the walk in, you stifle a laugh listening to your husband babble at his little girl who babbles back excitedly. Peeking around the corner, you see him standing in front of the portrait of you that he painted on your 24th birthday, little babe held to his chest and leaning her head on his shoulder.
“That’s her, that’s right. Your perfect mom.”
He sighs and your heart squeezes watching the two of them sway side to side, your baby who is growing into an independent toddler every day reaching out as if she recognizes your face. You’re sure she does, actually; the painting is an impeccable likeness and it still frustrates you 6 years later that he managed to become so good at a craft you’ve spent your life working on in less than a month.
Someday you’ll tell her the entire story, your version of it anyway. For now you’re content to let her father tell his side considering it was one of the most grand and romantic gestures he had performed at the time in an effort to show you how serious he was about your relationship.
“Listen, little girl,” he starts, unknowing that he has captured both of your attention. “I know I’m going to have to tell you this again eventually but do not ever bring a man or woman or anyone else into this house that loves you less than I love your mother.”
She coos at the sound of his voice and he chuckles down at her, kissing the downy white hair atop her head.
“I mean it. If they won’t stay up for four nights straight to get a start on painting your nose from memory, leave ‘em behind.”
With this, you giggle and the attention of both of your menaces is captured. Your daughter squeals from over Satoru’s shoulder, holding one little hand out and making a grabbing motion and he copies her excited babbling with his own.
“My little tricksters snuck out of bed this morning!”
Grinning, you cradle your little girl against your chest and kiss her temple, inhaling the clean smell of her shampoo and skin. She’s been bathed and everything.
“You’re the best.”
You feel the need to remind Satoru at this moment and he grins, bending to give you a good morning kiss.
“Duh.”
Giggling, you let your wiggly daughter settle herself and the three of you stand in front of the painting. You recognize the younger woman permanently captured in it, the soft lovesick look in her eyes, and it amuses you to know he took extra time to capture you exactly like that. Hopelessly in love.
He could capture you using the same medium and you’d look identical to how you did back then - utterly stricken.
“Did you really stay up practicing for four nights?”
“Princess, I stayed up practicing for four weeks.”
You snort, looking up at him from the corner of your eye.
“There’s no need to embellish now, you’ve already won me over.”
He shrugs, pulling the two of you close to his chest. He leans over his little family, cheek resting against the top of your head.
“But what if I never want to stop winning you?”
You reach up and brush his hair off of his forehead affectionately. Every touch you give him is full of love and every glance carries tenderness.
There will come a time when your daughter will be old enough to gawk at the love the two of you have for one another. Maybe she’ll stick her tongue out and roll her eyes just as you remember her father doing more than once or perhaps she’ll simply smile and hide her face in the collar of her shirt, dreaming of a love like what’s in front of her someday.
“I mean, I could paint you again. You are coming up on the big three oh and I have to say that a few things have grown since back then if you know what I mean.”
He waggles his eyebrows suggestively and drops his voice suggestively low. You flick him on the forehead and laugh about it, your daughter joining in on your giggles as a nine month old is apt to do.
The thing you hope she’ll understand the most is that sometimes love isn’t just big paintings and grand gestures and sweet looks. It’s being grounded enough to give each other a hard time when things are good and a good time when things are hard.
You are fortunate enough to have the best of everything with her father.
“Let’s go make breakfast, Monet.”
You turn on your heel and your husband follows closely behind, small steps to match your own. He looks over his shoulder one final time to look at the painting of you on his closet wall and he smiles, soft and warm.
“Whatever you say, my muse.”
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specialagentartemis · 3 months
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I have a different post in the works about Maddie not having children in the "Masters of All Time" timeline - it makes the emotional dilemma about whether Maddie should help Danny repair and reset the timeline straightforward and clean, but the thing is, the premise that "Masters of All Time" gives us is a FASCINATING and potentially really anguishing emotional dilemma if the writers were allowed to acknowledge it.
Maddie isn't happy in the MoAT timeline. When Danny shows up in her timeline, frantically trying to explain to her that he's her son with Jack Fenton from a different timeline, she accepts and embraces this explanation pretty quickly. It feels like she wants to believe it - she wants to believe that if things had gone differently, she would have married Jack, had children, had a ghost-hunting career she could be open and proud about. Everything Danny offers to her is something she wants more than what she has - a husband who has been lying to her, who dislikes ghost stuff and disapproves of her ghost research, so she has to do it in secret and hide it from him.
Something that goes totally unaddressed: Danny, her son from a different timeline, is a ghost. He's dead.
Never once does anyone stop to wonder what it means that her teenage son is a ghost.
And I know it's because Hartman & co. refuse to let anyone acknowledge that ghosts are dead people... but imagine they did.
Maddie Masters is... happy enough, she guesses. She married her college friend, and he is her friend, and she's not opposed to this. He doesn't support her work, but, well. She deals. She has her basement ghost research lab, even if she has to keep it secret from Vlad. She lost touch with Jack decades ago, and still regrets that, but that happens, sometimes, and his grievances aren't unfounded. She doesn't have children.
And then a ghost boy claiming to be her son shows up, and tells her that in a different timeline, the timeline that should have happened, she married Jack Fenton, she has two children, she is is out and proud about her ghost research and ghost-hunting and Jack enthusiastically collaborates with her on it. He tells her she's happy.
He doesn't tell her how he died.
And Maddie has a heartbreaking choice to make. Does she help him make this reality happen, restore time to how it's "supposed" to go?She wants to believe him, to believe in this alternate history where things went differently and she got the life she wanted! She has a wacky house full of Ghost Contraptions, a husband who loves her and supports her and collaborates with her, and two children she loves.
... and one of those children is going to die when he's 14. That comes with this choice.
Can she live with that? Consciously make this timeline happen, knowing she's going to have this child and then see him die.
It puts me in mind of one of the major emotional through-lines of "Story of Your Life" by Ted Chiang, the story of a linguist who makes contact with aliens and learns their language that allows her to see all of time at once, where it will go, what the outcomes of events will be. She sees her daughter dying. She knows from the moment she has this child that she will die in a rock-climbing accident in college. She sees it all at once, her whole life, and makes that choice to have a baby anyway.
I think MoAT!Maddie should have to consciously make a similar choice, and have similar feelings about it. Unlike the protagonist of "Story of Your Life," she doesn't know how it will all go. She only knows it as Danny tells her, and she herself won't really experience this, going forward. But she, another version of her, will. And Danny doesn't explain the halfa thing or the portal accident or anything, leaving Maddie to have to make her own hypotheses about what her alternate-life's future holds, about the grief that's going to come with the love, and make that choice to make it happen anyway.
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sunsetsimon · 8 months
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a couple of dad!simon headcanons ♡
- hello! i'm sun, and this is my new writing account! i haven't written properly in years, so please go easy on me!
simon “ghost” riley x fem!reader
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☼ simon never imagined having a family of his own. even after the first few years of being together, the thought never crossed his mind. until your best friend had a baby...
your best friend was visiting with her newborn and seeing you holding the baby flipped a switch in his head. you smiled and cooed at him, causing the baby to flash a toothless smile. there was a twinkle in your eye that he hadn’t noticed before and he pictured you glowing so beautifully as you held your own daughter, a mini version of you and him all in one. he didn’t bring it up for weeks as he thought it through himself. was having a family even possible for him? was he just being selfish?
☼ it comes up one day after you notice he’d been unusually quiet while spending time together. he wasn’t the most talkative, but he enjoyed conversations with you, even joking here and there.
“is everything okay, si? you’ve been extra quiet today.”
“hmm, yeah. just been zoning off.” he shrugs, unsure how to approach the subject. he knows you would listen but he doesn’t know how he’d react if your answer was no.
deciding rejection is better than never knowing, he sharply inhales, “have you ever thought about having children?”
the question throws you off, certainly random for a guy who doesn’t speak much of the future. you sit for a second debating your answer, and simon’s chest clenches in anxious anticipation.
“i have a few times, nothing too serious though. it never seems like there’s a good time for us.”
he nods in agreement, “been thinking about it these days. maybe it’s something we can consider.”
☼ needless to say, you both decide after many conversations and more time, that expanding your family is something you’re open to. you stop your contraception soon after and begin trying. he becomes even more attentive, constantly checking in with you and doing plenty of research on how to make your pregnancy easy. he gets you anything you want - whenever you want. and back and foot massages become part of your everyday routine.
☼ recognizes that he won't always be around because of his extremely demanding work. he checks in whenever he can, even writing letters if he has to. it breaks his heart having to miss doctor appointments and weekly milestones with you, but you always know he tries his absolute best for you two.
☼ simon loves skin to skin contact for the first few months. he loves to lay with her against his chest and drift off to the tv while you take a quick shower. he finds himself just watching her a lot, trying to memorize every movement her tiny body makes.
☼ soooo protective. no kisses, no pets, no sick people, doesn’t allow anything that could be of risk near her. he always has the two of you in his sight, preferring to push the stroller as you walk on the side of him.
☼ he's not one to care for style, so you do the main planning for the nursery. he builds all of the furniture for you while you watch. he looks so hot in his grey sweats and a black t-shirt that you can't help but distract him a few times.
☼ it's a hard adjustment for him having to return for a mission after she's born. he spends his entire last day holding and watching her, a sad slouch in his shoulders.
"gonna miss you so much, darlin. i'll be back as soon as i can," he whispers, gently kissing her forehead before handing her back to you. simon's hands grip your waist, pulling you in close to kiss you deeply before resting his forehead against yours. "i need my girls to stay safe. ill update you when i can, dove."
whenever he can, he scrolls though his videos on his phone just to see her face. her eyes twinkle brighter than any star to him and a slight smile creeps under his mask.
☼ relieves you from baby care when he can tell you’re exhausted. sighing and pulling yourself out of bed when crying erupts through the baby monitor. he doesn’t get up at first, but when the crying continues for a minute, he comes to check on you. he pushes the door cracked door open, revealing you desperately hushing and bouncing her in your arms. your eyes are tired and heavy, wishing for a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.
“i got ‘er. go back to bed love,” simon says, taking his baby girl into his arms.
you give him a weak smile and a thankful squeeze at his arm, walking straight to bed without another peep. he holds her close to his chest as he sits down in the chair, propping her neck up as he stares down at her. her eye color matches his, but she resembles you more and more everyday. he’s enamored by her, his beautiful little girl that he created with the love of his life.
she quiets down shortly, falling back asleep in his arms as he rocks her slowly. his own eyes grow heavy, and he sets her down in her crib before returning back to bed. he climbs in behind you, pulling your back to his chest and planting a soft kiss on the side of your neck.
“if she wakes up again i’ll take care of it. you just sleep darling,” simon whispers, receiving a hum in response from you as you snuggle into him.
he takes care of his girls so well.
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dragon-ascent · 4 months
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I wonder how Zhongli would feel if he came home one night, to find his lover surrounded by plushies of him (as an archon, dragon, and his current form) and cuddling a giant Rex Lapis exuvia plush?
Sure, he finds her skill at textile design impressive but he can't help but feel a bit jealous that a creation of fabric and cotton stole his beloved.
Jealous (and possibly pouty) Li is everything to me ;u; so here you go! Enjoy~
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The first time you showed Zhongli a plushie you'd made of him in his miniature dragon form, words couldn't describe how touched and flattered he was that his beloved could find pleasure in creating plushies in his image. The fact that you loved him so much amplified his own love for you tenfold, and he couldn't ask for a better partner.
But then, the plushies started piling up. Big and small, fluffy and smooth, person and dragon. Zhongli didn't want to discourage you from making use of your exceptional crafting skills, especially seeing how happy you were, but once the plushies started taking up his side of the bed, he couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy - something he wasn't accustomed to. Especially when it appeared that he was stealing you from himself in a way..?
It all comes to a head when he returns home after a week-long consultation overseas, wanting nothing more than to hold and be held by you. "Darling, I'm home."
No response. Well, that's all right, he thinks, as it's quite late and he wouldn't be surprised if you'd already fallen asleep. Zhongli pictures you nodding off while trying to stay up waiting for your husband, and a tender smile tugs at his lips.
But when he gets to the bedroom, a different scene awaits entirely.
There's the usual mountain of Zhongli-themed plushies around you, but it's...a lot bigger than he'd remembered. And in the middle of it all, you're wide awake and rolling about with a giant plushie of his dragon-Qilin form, about as tall as Zhongli himself is. Your eyes are closed and you're humming, petting the plushie as you do.
At first he's a mix of awestruck and besotted by the scene, but those feelings are swiftly overtaken by envy. Huffing softly, he decides to take matters into his own hands.
...You're minding your own business, stroking your soft Rex Lapis in utter contentment when suddenly the soft fuzzy cotton seems to morph into a smoother, scalier texture.
"Oh!" You open your eyes, seeing a more reptilian version of your creation staring back at you expectantly like a dog. Grinning, you cuddle him. "Wow, I really outdid myself with how realistic this one is!"
He lets out an audible huff now, and you laugh.
Your dragon husband curls up around you, fiery eyes transfixed upon you alone. "Pay attention to me," he murmurs, and there's a hint of a whine in his deep voice, "and me alone." He uses his tail to knock his cotton imposter off the bed.
But you're still being cheeky. "Well, technically these are all you," you say, holding up a little plushie of Zhongli wearing his white archon hood, but your husband only growls at it, which makes you giggle. You stroke his sorry, scaley ol' head. "You're so silly, Li."
"I am not silly," he answers earnestly, nuzzling his snout against your skin. Ah, how he missed your scent. Gently, he uses his clawed hands to keep your upper half in place while his tail coils around your lower half. Finally content, he closes his eyes and purrs.
You roll your eyes, smiling. "You're going to keep me like this?"
"Yes. You are to stay like this with me all night, my darling. Please do not object."
And you willingly give in, letting your lizard lover keep you in his hold like this until the sun rises again.
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