#they were silent when the situation happened
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this is dreamling more than dead boy detectives but it's been in my head since reading issue #25 after s1 of sandman. so, now feels like a good time to release it into the world. i just want them all to get in each others way
(season of mists spoilers)
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It’s not often that Hob smokes. It’s an expensive habit, and secondhand smoke and all that. But it’s hardly going to kill him, so he’s usually got an ancient pack on hand somewhere. Handy, especially in situations like this. Not that there’s ever been a situation like this before but, well. You live long enough.
He slips out into the beer garden of the pub, lighting up almost absent mindedly, the action still muscle memory.
“What the fuck,” he mutters, rubbing his thumb along his lower lip, “what the fuck. Dream, if you have bloody anything to do with this, I swear to god, Morpheus. What the fucking fuck.” He closes his eyes, lets his head fall back against the brickwork. Despite it all he huffs an exhausted laugh. Because sure. Of course. Yeah, why not. Of course this would happen. “Jesus Christ, Morpheus. Even if this isn’t you, bloody… fucking wish I could just ask.” It’s all said barely above a whisper. Just in case. Always just in case. He blindly ashes his cigarette and heaves out a heavy breath, “Lord above,” he scoffs, raising the cigarette to his lips again.
“Hob?”
Hob startles, eyes snapping open, head knocking back sharply against the brick. “Fuck – ow – Dream?” He raises his free hand to rub the back of his head, wincing slightly. “That, uh… that worked better than expected.”
“You were calling for me?”
“Yeah… sorta. I didn’t… think it worked like that. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You did not. I had thought briefly of you.”
“Oh, yeah?” Hob grins. “How come? You miss me already?”
Morpheus sends him a withering look.
“I, um… dreamt of you. While ago. Was that – real?”
“It was.”
He nods, thumb nervously tapping the filter of his cigarette. “Uh huh. Figured. With the wine, and…” he trails off. The hollow feeling of that dream, or rather, of that waking coming back to him in full force. “You said some ominous shit. Then I said some ominous shit. Was that real, too?”
Morpheus nods solemnly.
“Right. Don’t suppose you’ll explain that?” Morpheus remains silent. “Right. Course not. Things okay, though? Now? I mean,” he gestures to his friend, “you’re here. That must be good, yeah?”
“Yes. And no.”
“Great. Fab.”
“What I thought I was facing has… changed.”
“...’kay. Well, can I ask you a question?”
Morpheus pauses but, after a moment, nods.
“S’it got anything to do with the dead kids hanging out in my pub?”
“What?”
“Yeah, couple of boys who look like they should definitely be in school – about, oh, fifty years ago. At least.”
Morpheus’ eyes don’t actually widen in alarm, but there is something to that effect happening… not quite in his expression, but in his aura, perhaps. Hob gets the feeling that if he were a cat the fur along his spine would be standing on end.
“So… it is related?”
“Perhaps.”
“Definitely, then.” Hob takes a short puff of his cigarette.
“Show me?”
“Uh… I don’t know if they know that people can see them. I don’t know if people who aren’t me can see them, actually. So just, um…” the caution dies in his throat as he realises who it is he’s talking to. Morpheus will do what he will, Hob’s advice be damned.
Dream draws close, peering in through the windowpane of the door back into the pub. “How do you know?”
“You get pretty good at feeling when things are off once you’ve been around the block six hundred years or so. Also, they walked in through the closed front door. As in, passed right through the solid wood and glass.”
“I see.”
“Why are they here?”
“To sample your fine selection of craft beer, perhaps?”
“Oh, he’s joking,” Hob has joined his side in peering not-so-surreptitiously through the door. “‘Mortal plane’ here, not here-here.”
“Death must have been busy… It is not like her to leave a job unfinished without good reason.”
“Must’ve…? What the fuck could be so horrific that Death is being kept busy?”
Morpheus, beside him, is silent. Deadly still. And it tells Hob all he needs to know.
“Dream,” he hisses, “what the fuck is this? What’s going on?”
There is a long pause. “I ought not to tell you.” Dream murmurs, still facing the glass panel of the door.
“And I ought not have two dead teenagers in my pub. All things relative.”
“They are causing no harm.”
“I don’t doubt that. It’s you I’m worried about now.”
“Your concern is of no use. What I mean is that they are no poltergeists, not aggressive, there seems to be nothing demonic about them.”
“Which means… there are poltergeists and demons running about at the mo?”
“I told you, I ought not say. There are diplomatic proceedings to take place.”
“You get that that makes even less sense, yeah?”
Dream seems to, at last, with an almighty eye roll, give in. “Hell is closed,” he hisses, turning to face Hob directly.
“Hell is closed.” Hob repeats back, dumbfounded. “And that means… The devils are all here?”
“Precisely.”
“But the boys… aren’t devils?”
“They are not.”
“Okay. That’s good news. And the devils?”
Dream shrugs, sharp and languid. “Anywhere. Everywhere.”
“Great. Okay. Less good. Very much less good. So, uh. What… do I do? Am I supposed to exorcise them? Because, I have to be honest – would really rather not do that.”
“You are under no obligations.”
“Oh.”
“They could not be here without Death’s knowledge or her say-so. She will come for them in time.”
“Oh.” Inexplicably, Hob’s heart sinks a little.
“They are not alive, Hob.” Dream says, looking him in the eye. “They cannot live forever as the dead.”
“Hm. Yeah. S’pose.” He looks through the windowpane at the two boys, chatting animatedly at a corner table out of the way. “They’re just kids, though. Barely got a normal life.”
“You cannot save them, Hob.”
“Why not?”
“You cannot. They may not be destined for Hell, but that doesn’t mean they can stay amongst the living.”
“Says who?”
“The universe. Death, herself.”
Hob smirks, tilting his head down a fraction to look up at Dream from under a quirked brow. “You know what I think of Death.”
And Hob catches the tension at the corner of Dream’s mouth that he knows, whatever he might say to the contrary, is a suppressed smile.
“C’mon, what if I just help ‘em live a little? While they’re here?”
“Hob.”
“What?! Can’t a guy be nice?”
“I have meetings to attend to.”
“That’s not a no.”
“I think it a poor choice to flaunt immortality in front of two who have died so young. I would caution against it.”
“Okay. Fuck, fair point. But they don’t have to know about me. They wouldn’t somehow know, right?”
“I would caution against it, Hob Gadling.”
#sandman#dreamling#dead boy detectives#sandman fanfic#my fic#hob gadling#dream of the endless#charles and edwin get a cameo lets say#im so excited for the show yall have no idea
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I'm glad you brought up kirby, because as a fellow Catholic I have always wondered something. Kirby is an alien who has the ability to gain the "powers" of whatever he consumes. If the Pope is correct in his assertion that aliens could take Communion, my question is as follows: If Kirby was a baptized, believing Catholic who took communion, would the process of transubstantiation give Kirby the powers of Jesus Christ?
Hello Small Business Owner,
When we partake in the Eucharist, the priest says a silent prayer along the lines of “may the Body keep me safe and eternal.” And there is another point where everyone says, “I am not worthy to receive you but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.” The point of Mass is to literally give thanks have gratitude and receive spiritual healing. It’s not like a video game buff or recipe where if someone does x then y happens. But for you, I’ll humor the question.
In this situation Kirby’s birth would have been forordained and his powers are a gift from God. Kirby would also need to be fit to receive communion by being in a state of grace and fasting at least one hour before Mass.
We can conclude that Kirby would have the same gifts Jesus gave to his apostles (power to heal, power to forgive sins, power to walk on water with Him etc) but would exclude powers they were not given that Jesus has. In conclusion: Kirby would become a priest. But like, in a speed run.
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Guilty Pleasures ( chapter four )
18+ 5.2k homelander x plus size f!reader. office romance, stalking, voyeurism, office sex, cunnilingus, cream pie, breast play, flight sex, lite overstim, riding. nebulously takes place post s1. part 4/4. AO3 link. CH I CH 2 CH 3
Homelander takes what's his, and you get what's yours.
welcome to the final chapter! thanks so much for reading. i really enjoyed the dynamic between these two, and i hope you do, too. 🖤
Homelander doesn’t hold it against you that you take him up on his suggestion to be absent the following day. He leaves a little peace offering in your office to say as much: a mug for your collection that reads simply, You’ve Been Mugged. He adjusts it seven times on your desk before he finally leaves it alone, surveying your office a while before letting himself out.
The thugs he lasered down in the alley don’t garner much attention, but it’s enough to warrant a statement on the truth of what happened. With them dead, the truth becomes whatever he makes of it, and his truth is that two vagabonds were assaulting a cherished Vought employee before he put a stop to it.
It’s precisely the kind of hero story the public loves.
“I acted on instinct,” he tells the newscaster. He relives the moment as he tells it, recalls only to himself how fierce you had been. How determined you were that if you were going to die, you would die fighting. “They were going to hurt her. I like to believe any good citizen in my position would have done the same.”
Madelyn taught him that conviction without contrition would always read as arrogance, so he speaks firmly but with a furrow to his brow, and he closes his eyes when he inclines his head to accept praise. No matter how dead she is, her voice remains an echo in his mind: follow the script, and you’ll be fine.
They use his words to segue into a discussion of gun control, and Homelander’s mind drifts somewhere distant, hearing without listening to the petty squabbles of humans crying about their little toys and laws. He supposes this is how God feels when humans pray to Him over every minor inconvenience. Bored and painfully above it.
While it’s easy enough to keep himself distracted during business hours, Homelander’s life comes to an abrupt halt alongside the end of the working day. Like the equipment that broadcasts him, there’s little use for him once the cast and crew goes home. All around him the employees commiserate at the end of their work day and pass around invitations to the bar.
He receives none.
Not that he would accept them if he did.
Seeking both council and companionship, Homelander finds himself in Noir’s apartment, seated in the chair Noir keeps for him. It’s the only one the hero owns, what with his interior design being deeply steeped in westernized ninja nonsense. The place is half dojo, half living quarters.
He laments his situation to Noir, explaining his patience in courting you, the lengths he’s gone to endear himself to you on a personal level, and the bitter sting of your rejection.
“See her,” Noir writes in his sketchpad, sitting on the floor on the other side of the low table. “If glad to see her, good. If not–”
Homelander snorts at the series of knife sketches that follow. He has no doubt Noir would put an end to anyone for any reason Homelander gave. Simplicity has allowed Noir an unwavering loyalty to Vought, and as an extension, Homelander himself. Luckily for you, he has no interest in that happening.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Noir,” he muses, clapping his hands on his thighs before he stands up. “You’re right. I’ll go see her. Thanks, buddy.”
Noir offers two thumbs up. A true uproar of approval.
Under the cover of darkness, Homelander returns to your house, the flight path a familiar one now. He lands silently on your roof this time, cocking his head. He’s not confident he’ll be able to resist your siren pull if he approaches now. He folds his hands behind his back and peers through each layer between him and your bedroom, stopping when he can see you.
You’re nestled deep in the splay of your blankets, lips parted around shallow breaths. He bites his own bottom lip, remembering how badly he’d wanted to feel them. Taste them. He’s certain now that if he allowed himself to be close enough, he would. Denial, for as much as it stung in that moment, has only made him hungrier for you. Fuck, the way he’s craved you from the moment you first brushed him aside.
He watches you shift in your sleep and his eyes narrow, honing in on a familiar flash. His stomach flips–it’s his cape, the fabric pinned between your blanket and your body. You really are sleeping with it, the star spangled blue fabric tucked up under your chin. Do you smell him on it? Homelander groans softly. Like your underwear in his bedside drawer, you sleep with a trophy of your own.
“Fuck,” he says, aching. His heart, his mind, his cock–all of it at once a cacophony of vicious yearning and impatience. The urge to peel the roof like a sardine can and carve his way straight to you nearly knocks the wind out of him, has him preemptively reaching for the shingled surface.
Only the lingering wound to his ego gives him pause. He’s been bitten once, leaving him shy to instigate, but this revelation feels like progress. You’re aching for him as much as he is for you. He’s sure of that now. It’s time that he made you feel that ache. Feel his absence. Then you’ll realize the foolishness of your coy game.
Clenching his jaw defiantly, Homelander lifts up into the sky.
He’ll be benevolent when you come to your senses.
The next day, Homelander keeps himself scarce, preoccupied. Ashley is perkier than usual, thrilled–if not suspicious–with his easy participation in whatever inane business she brings to him. It helps distract him from the endless feeling of waiting that he’s enduring.
He sticks stubbornly to his schedule, fantasizing about the torment his avoidance has surely wrought. He’s tempted a time or two to break, but each time he remembers the mortified Oh! you uttered before he kissed you, he refocuses himself.
You’ll come.
Not before lunch, but that is the perfect opportunity for it. He makes himself more available then, tapping his fingers against the armrest of his chair.
No sign of you.
He gives you the benefit of the doubt. A meal to embolden you.
Then you’ll come.
He waits.
Lunch long since over.
He waits.
The day is winding down.
He’s fucking tired of waiting.
Where the hell are you? He’s given you the entirety of the day to seek him out, ample opportunity to come thank him for his gift, to address the aching thing ruminating between you. You’d be a fucking liar to say you don’t feel it, too. By midday, he’s seething with impatience and hurt. There’s no chance he’s going to let you stand him up.
It’s precisely the wrong time for Ashley to rear her head back up. “Okay! That’s that, now regarding the amnesty for–”
“Ashley!” He snaps, a harsh and throaty sound. “Would you shut the fuck up?”
She stops in her tracks, staring wide-eyed. Of course it was too good to be true.
Homelander all but leaps to his feet, pushing out of his chair so hard that it flips backwards and into the wall in a heavy clatter. She clutches her vPad to her chest and quickly back steps out of his way, watching in frightened bewilderment as he storms from the room, making a beeline towards your office.
He doesn’t bother knocking this time. Still, his restraint is undeniable when he pushes your door open. He barely catches himself from pushing the damn thing clean off the hinges.
Your head snaps up from your computer, eyes wide. He hears your heart jump and he savors the alarm that shoots through you. Payback for the awful misery you forced him to endure in the hours since he last saw you. Still, the sight of you disarms him. For all his seething anger, there is something small in him that retreats it when your eyes are on him.
There’s a heaviness to your gaze that his strength can do nothing to alleviate. No incredible feat of his can wrench away what it is he wants from you. What he needs. It’s something you have to give him willingly, and that alone is enough to temper his rage. The familiar fear that you won’t.
He marches to the front of your desk and levels an accusatory finger on you.
“You like me,” he hisses, bending to brace his opposite hand on your desk.
You blink owlishly, lips parted. That clearly wasn’t what you expected him to say. He’s not sure it’s what he meant to say. “Homelander–”
“No,” he says, voice pitched low, a warning. “No, no. No games, no workarounds. You like me. You do. And I like you. So,” he abandons his point to make a vague encompassing gesture, but he doesn’t know what to say next. He didn’t think this far ahead. All day he had practiced the calm benevolence he would show when you approached him, chastised and yearning. He has nothing to back up this frenzied play for.
You stand. Homelander rises to his full height with you, jutting his chin out. He watches you with all the wariness of a wounded predator as you circle around your desk, your hand gliding along the wood like you would flank a horse so as not to spook it.
He can’t determine the intent behind your gaze. He angles his body towards you, facing you head on. You look like yourself again, in your element and free from the fawn fear of the alley. He can’t entirely decide which way he prefers you. When you were in his arms, he was your hero. In your office, his position feels more precarious.
The silence stretches on for hours–or seconds, it’s impossible to say–before he can no longer stand it. Sucking in a breath, he–
You kiss him.
Homelander goes shock still, hyper aware of your lips pressed feather light to his, your breasts against his chest, your hand on his forearm. He doesn’t know when he closed his eyes, but he senses when you begin to pull away.
In a flash he cups your face in his hands and pulls you in deep, inhaling sharply, like he’s only just remembered how to breathe. He kisses you, kisses you, kisses you as if he can trap you in the cycle of it. You don’t resist, you don’t tense. Instead, you sigh an angel’s breath against his lips. Only then does he break to look at you.
“I don’t understand,” he says, bewildered, flushed.
“I do like you,” you say, eyes glassy.
His brows pinch. “But… That night–”
“Wasn’t right,” you interrupt. “I wanted to kiss you, but not like that. Not then. Not because you saved me, not because I was in shock, not because of…” you rock your head side to side. “Whatever other bullshit… You let me down that night.”
“Let you down?” Homelander echoes, taken aback. “By saving your life?” He asks, his temper a perpetual simmer ready to flare. He’s immediately tempered by your hands taking his wrists, squeezing. You hold his gaze and your expression is gentle, but there is a firmness in your stare that he finds intoxicating. Not an ounce of fear, even when his anger emerges.
Good. You shouldn’t be afraid of him. He saved you.
“I was shaken. Badly. My date was an entitled asshole, those men, they tried to…” You shake your head, holding his hands to your face. “I didn’t need you to be a man. I needed you to be a hero. I wasn’t ready.”
A light in Homelander’s eyes flicks on. You just weren’t ready. He’d been right after all. He fixates on that, choosing to forgive you for that, at least.
“Well, why didn’t… You could have said something,” he says, feeling like a deflated hot air balloon, all slack expansion and heat with no purpose.
“I would have,” you say, your cheeks soft and round in his hands, lips slightly puckered from his hold on your face. “But you ran away.”
“What? I–” He laughs incredulously. “I did not run away.”
“Flew away,” you say, pushing in to kiss him again. He screws his eyes shut. Fuck, fuck. Oh fuck. He’s been dreaming of this, aching for it. To feel you against him, wanting him as much as he wants you. “Pretty fast, too. Looked like you shot straight up to the moon,” you say, breath hot and sweet on his lips.
“I…” He swallows, hands slipping down to either side of your neck, thumbs tilting your chin up. “I’m sorry. I wanted you,” he says, trailing his parted lips along your jaw, kissing and breathing you in the way he’s craved to. He can feel your skin growing hot against his lips, hear the uptick of your pulse as your heart begins to race.
“Do you still want me?” You ask, voice lower now. It sends a delicious hot pang all the way through him.
“You have no fucking idea,” he murmurs, nipping at the lobe of your ear, desperate to test the give of you under his teeth, the feel of your soft and yielding flesh branded into his memory the moment his lips touched your skin.
A knock snaps his attention away from you, but it isn’t at the door. He looks down and sees that it’s you knocking on your desk.
“So take me,” you say, voice laced with heat. His lips split into a wicked grin. He snatches the edge of your heavy wooden desk and effortlessly tips it backwards until everything slides off of it, clattering to the floor. He lifts you up, relishing your delighted little yelp, and places you down on the cleared surface like a doll, stepping in between your legs.
He kisses you again. Let me in, demands the press of his tongue. You yield to him, but it’s far from a surrender. Your tongue meets his eagerly, tasting him as much as he does you. Tasting you. That’s what he wants. He wants to map every inch of you with his tongue.
Homelander slips his hand between your legs, pushing your skirt up out of the way. He presses his fingers to the heat between your thighs, rubbing through the thin fabric of your panties. You sigh that same seraphic sound against his lips, slipping your hands up into his hair, already taking a handful of it to tug gently.
He breaks the kiss and takes his fingers from you after the barest tease of pleasure. The impatient sound you make goes straight to his cock, as does your flustered expression. He brings his fingers to his lips and drags his tongue over the leather of them, sliding them past his lips to give a quick suck. It’s not enough, too slight a hint of you. He needs more. You watch him with rapt attention, giving his hair a demanding little tug.
“You can pull as hard as you like,” he tells you with a smile, tilting his head against the grasp you have on his hair. “Tells me I’m doing a good job.”
“I’ll tell you when you’re doing a good job,” you rasp, giving his hair a sharp pull and then a downward push. That sends a shiver down his spine.
Fuck yes.
Homelander sinks down onto his knees, lifting each of your legs up over his shoulders. You give a little gasp when he yanks your ass to the edge of the desk, giddy with the way he manhandles you. He swallows, mouth dry, thirsty for the wet, heady smell of your pussy. He maneuvers his head under your skirt until he’s close enough to drag his tongue up the soft cotton of your panties. Your breath hitches and your grip in his hair tightens while you egg him on with sharp little rolls of your hips.
He closes his eyes, giving a rumbling moan for the taste of you, even through the fabric. He laps until the fabric is soaked, clinging to your skin, and he can feel your clit swollen and stiff on his tongue through your panties. He closes his mouth over it, sucking you through your underwear while you writhe above him, keeping yourself quiet.
That won’t do.
He wants to hear you.
He wants the whole fucking Tower to hear you.
Hooking the crotch of your panties with his finger, it only takes one sharp little tug to tear them, exposing you to him.
“Homelander,” you moan. The sound of it lances a spear of heat through him, leaves his cock throbbing needily in the rigid confines of his cup. He groans into you, rocking his hips against the empty air. The only proper answer is to dive in, to close his lips around your clit and finally suck the rich nectar of your cunt without the filter of fabric between you. You taste even better than you smell, like salt and sex and sweet ripe fruit. It overwhelms his senses immediately, his eyelids flickering.
The more he laps at you, the silkier your pussy becomes. Between circling your clit, he drives his tongue deep into you, drinking you down noisily and messily, a parched man gulping from an oasis. Your thick thighs are tight on either side of his head, your pulse pounding in his ears. He moans low and wicked for the taste and feel of you.
Your grip on his hair tightens sporadically, sharp little tugs that match the staccato cadence of your breaths. “F-fuck, your tongue feels-feels fucking unreal,” you moan, grinding down against it. The strength of it, the slight thrum of restrained power that courses through him, and the sheer relentlessness of his stamina is driving you wild against his mouth. “Fingers, use your fingers,” you tell him. He loves the rawness of your voice, the authority and desperation in your demand.
Removing one of his gloves, he moves his bare hand to the sweltering wetness of you, teasing his finger just below where his tongue is rubbing your clit. His index finger slips easily into the slick mess, and he savors the quiver of your velvet walls around it. He lets you ride his finger, stays all but still while you greedily bounce your hips, both hands fisted in his hair. You use him for your pleasure, and it makes him delirious with want.
Homelander's gaze flickers up. He peers through the layer of your skirt to catch a look at you, to watch you while you cannot watch him. You’re losing track of yourself, lips parted, eyes glazed with pleasure, shivering with each flick of his tongue and dive of his finger. Euphoria looks good on you.
Christ, he has been patient. He would chastise himself for waiting so long to touch you, to taste you, to feel you, but he can’t bring himself to. The wait gifted him with this exquisite hunger, and he proved something important; you both yearn for the other. You crave him. He can see it in your hazy eyes, taste it in the spill of your sweet cunt.
You belong to him. He needs only to take you.
One finger becomes two, and then three. Your heels dig into his shoulders and fuck yourself down on them, moaning recklessly now, not caring who hears you. It’s music to his ears.
“Fuck, Homelander, I-I’m coming, I’m-don’t stop, don’t stop,” you beg prettily. You don’t need to, but he enjoys the song anyway. He laps at your clit in quick upward pulls of his tongue, lips creating a seal around it. His brows furrow tightly, his own neglected arousal pounding through his body like a wardrum, but he doesn’t touch himself, too focused on you.
Your whole body locks up tight when you come, breath caught in your lungs, your clit fluttering delicately. He presses his tongue to it, savoring the taste of your euphoria, how it floods your system and changes the flavor of you. Your pleasure grows his hunger into something monstrous, something demanding, but there is satiation at least in bringing you this, in showing you all the things he will be for you.
You’ll never want for anyone–or anything– else ever again.
Homelander doesn’t stop. You begged him not to. He finger-fucks you through the aftershocks, lapping up every drop of your pleasure, stroking you inside and out while your cunt squeezes his fingers. He doesn’t stop until he feels you pushing him away, your sweet songbird moans sounding more like whimpers, oversensitized. He withdraws his fingers, giving one last noisy slurp before emerging from beneath your skirt. His face is shiny and wet with your slick, his pupils blown black. He's panting, looking every bit like a beast lifting its bloodied head from the belly of its kill.
Crawling up your body, still predator hungry, he rests his knee on the desk between your legs. He cups either side of your face, fingertips digging possessively into the back of your neck. He meets your eyes, pinning you with the intensity of his gaze, wordlessly drilling into your mind that this moment, this feeling, this tingling warmth in your body is him.
I did this to you, his expression reads. You’re on my lips, he says by pressing them to yours, kissing your own taste into your mouth, his body throbbing, desperate for an ounce of that same relief. You’re mine.
To his amazement, your eyes mirror his own savage hunger. You kiss him hard, shamelessly licking into his mouth, huffing shallow breaths from your nose. “Lie down,” you tell him, voice as sweet and coarse as raw sugar. “I’m going to ride you.”
Homelander doesn’t need to be told twice. Exhilarated, he rolls over, flipping you with him and steadying you above him in a fluid motion. The desk isn’t as long as he is tall, but it doesn’t matter. He’s already half suspended in the air with his own excitement, helping you with overly eager hands that fumble alongside yours with his belt, which falls to the ground with a distinct thud. He gives a little jump at the voracity you rip his zipper down with, grinning.
Together, you shuck his pants down to his thighs. You grip him through his red briefs, a fractured moan falling from his lips.
“Cute underwear,” you coo. His cheeks flush to almost the same shade. You flatten your palm over his cock and he bites back a whimper, teeth sinking into his tongue. You give a light squeeze, fingers curling around his cock through the fabric, and he lets out a rough breath. “You feel close,” you tell him, stroking him in a loose fist, your hand warm, the fabric soft.
He nods fervently, the friction and your voice already teetering him towards the edge. He makes a sound of both anguish and relief when you release him, his eyes snapping up to meet yours. You tug his underwear down, his cock bouncing free, engorged and dripping precome.
“Don’t move,” you tell him, bracing one hand on his chest and sliding forward, your other hand moving between your bodies to steady his cock against the rapturously hot press of your soaked cunt. His hands fly to your hips, fingertips biting into the softness of your body. You allow him that, focused entirely on the act of taking him into you. The fat head of his cock it slips inside, evoking a sweet little gasp from you, and Homelander fights not to slam in the rest of the way.
Both of your hands fall to his chest, your eyes meeting his. He holds your gaze, mouth twitching around silent sharp breaths. He watches you sink slowly down the length of him, engulfing him in such sublime rapture it’s a wonder he doesn’t come right then and there for the feel of you alone. His grip on your hips flexes and he gives a sharp little thrust up, forgetting himself to the divine feel of your pussy.
“I said don’t move,” you remind him breathlessly. God, you’re beautiful like this. The fluorescent light behind your head haloes you, giving you the look of a debauched angel he plucked from the heavens to have and keep as his own. He expects you to move, to bounce yourself on his cock like you did his mouth and his fingers. He wants to watch your tits bounce, see your face clearly when you come on his cock, but the only part of you that moves is your hand.
His gaze drops and quickly darkens, watching intently as you stroke your clit. The initial contact alone makes you jerk, makes your pussy spasm and squeeze him so good he almost chokes on it. Your only response is to sigh, tipping your head back and spreading your legs a little wider, taking him deeper. He wants so badly to fuck you, to slam you down and rail you until your desk cracks in half.
“Mmmm, fuck,” you moan, rubbing yourself in circles, the lewd noise of it loud and irresistible to his ears. “Fuck, fuck–ah, god,” you start to pant, head falling forward, brows tightly pinched. You’re so sensitive after the assault of his mouth, the flavor of you still fresh on his tongue. The faster your fingers move, the closer he feels you get, the clench around his cock steadily tightening. He wants to thrash, but you keep him pinned in place with your look of expectation and pleasure. You’re getting off on him as much as you are your own fingers, on the swell and throb of his cock inside you, on the sheer power you hold over a god.
You’re loud when you come, nails clawing into the chest of his suit. Homelander’s eyes roll back, lips parted on a soundless cry of his own. The spasming heat of your release is too much and he loses himself to it, eyes flaring up with crimson light as he comes with you, every shudder of your climax stroking and milking him of his own, flooding you with his own wet mess.
His restraint breaks with the dam and he sits up abruptly, startling a noise from you, which he swallows with a hard kiss, cupping the back of your head. He holds you still and he fucks you, lifting from the desk entirely so that he alone supports your weight, driving you deeper onto his cock. Your legs tighten on either side of him, shaking.
Out of his mind with pleasure, he tears your blouse open with his teeth, diving in close to lick, suck and bite at your chest. He buries his face between your breasts, holding you tightly as he fucks you both through your respective orgasms, the slap of flesh against flesh echoing obscenely in your office.
Hitching your legs properly around his waist, he bounces you on his cock until the pleasure borders on pain and a secondary shock rolls through him like another orgasm, stealing his breath. Only then does he finally slow, mouthing languidly at your chest until he sucks your nipple into his mouth. He moans against you, grinding to an eventual halt. You comb your fingers through his hair and goosebumps erupt across his body, which shivers in the euphoric aftermath.
He loses track of how long he stays suspended like that, lost to the overwhelm of sensation. Your legs go slack while his angles slightly upward, his face pressed to your chest, your head resting atop his. He nuzzles at you, bleary eyed and slack with pleasure. He kisses a trail up to your clavicle, your throat, your jaw, smiling in the loose, easy way that only a good fuck can never make him.
“Wow,” he says after a while, voice thoroughly frayed.
You giggle, groggily lifting your head. He adjusts until you can relax against his chest, fold your forearms across it and settling your chin atop them, admiring him. He touches your face with his ungloved hand, stroking your cheek with his thumb, then the curve of your bottom lip. His smile widens when you kiss the pad of his thumb.
“Wow indeed,” you say, swinging your legs lightly. “Can’t say I’ve ever been fucked mid-air.”
“One of the many benefits of dating me,” he purrs, caressing your cheek with his knuckles. He kisses you again, drifting slowly back down, unhurried.
Your brows lift lazily. “Who says we’re dating?” You ask, but your smile keeps his hackles from rising.
“Me,” he says, eyes crinkled at the corners. He lands gently on the desk, helping you to it. “You and I are officially going steady.”
You give a thoughtful hum, carefully untangling your limbs from his. You slide off of the desk while he puts himself back together, your knees trembling faintly. “Fairly sure asking someone out requires a question mark. You know. The asking part. You didn’t even buy me dinner.” You attempt to button up your shirt, but it’s obviously a lost cause.
He exhales a quiet laugh, pulling you back into his arms. “Well, I certainly ate.”
“God,” you laugh, rolling your eyes, but they don’t stray from him for long. There’s a sparkle to your gaze that he wants to capture in his palm and never set loose.
“Will you go out with me?” He asks, lips brushing yours.
“Mmmmmmmm….” You hum once more, drawing it out, feigning a great deliberation. “There’s something you should know first.”
He quirks a brow. “What’s that?”
“My guilty pleasure,” you say, nose bumping his.
Intrigued, he inclines his head to prompt you to continue. Can’t be worse than mine.
“Superheroes,” you say conspiratorially. “Can’t get enough of them. Loved them my whole life. Especially this one in particular…”
He breaks into a frayed, charmed laugh. “Let me guess, name starts with an H?”
You suck in a breath through your teeth, lips curved downward in a mock grimace, and nod subtly. “ Total fangirl. Embarrassing, right?”
Homelander shakes his head. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never felt guilty about pleasure. Where’s the harm in it?”
The harm inflicted on those thugs couldn’t count. They had it coming.
“Harm to my pride, my ego, my reputation,” you list, tapping his suit to punctuate each one. “I made a pretty big fuss about not liking you. I had myself convinced that my Homelander only existed in my fantasies, and you were just the guy who plays him.”
My Homelander. The words stir an unexpectedly sentimental surge of emotion that wells up from somewhere deep in his chest. He clears his throat lightly. “What’s the verdict now?”
You sweep him with an appraising gaze. “Still deliberating.”
He clicks his tongue, nodding. “I don’t suppose I could arrange a meeting with the jury?”
“They’re available for dinner tomorrow,” you say, the tilt of your lips sly.
“It’s a date,” he murmurs, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. You kiss him, pressing your smile to his. He doubts he’ll ever tire of the softness of your lips, or the easy way you melt against him. He wraps his arms around you, content to let this moment pass only because he knows there will be more to come. He’s determined to make every one of them better than the last.
All of the pleasure, none of the guilt.
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What are friends for?
PT. 11
Status: ongoing!!
Updates: no set date.
WC: 4300
Pairing: megumi fushiguro x FEM!reader
Genre/Warnings:[18+] Characters are aged up. This story contains toxic boyfriend, cursing, name calling, self-doubt/hate, angst, breaking up, post-breakup, alcohol, drug use, drunk moments, new friends, dating!au, college!au, no curses!au, dark humour, dark jokes. SMAU. Smut.
Recap:
As Megumi is about to head upstairs, Itadori stops him and pulls him to the side with a serious expression. "Yo, Megumi," he begins, catching Megumi's attention. Megumi turns to face him, a hint of confusion showing on his face. "What's up?"
"You gotta tell her, you know…" Itadori's tone is firm, his eyes locked on Megumi's.
Megumi furrows his brows, trying to understand. "Huh? What are you talking about?"
"You know what I'm talking about, Megumi," Itadori insists, his voice dropping slightly. "I'm not stupid. I saw the hickey on her neck. I know it's from you. And I'm happy for you, man. I'm glad you're both talking again. But seriously, you need to tell her… or else things are gonna get fucked over again."
Megumi meets Itadori's gaze, his mind racing as he processes the gravity of the situation. After a moment of contemplation, he nods solemnly. "Yeah, I will."
"When is it happening? Is it your last one?" Itadori asks, his concern evident.
Megumi stares at him, his expression unreadable, before glancing at the time: 4:52 am. "Yeah, if y/n's asleep, then I'll go now," he replies, a sense of urgency creeping into his tone.
"It's your last time doing this... right?"
Megumi meets Itadori's gaze with a serious expression and nods silently.
He heads upstairs to his bedroom, his footsteps echoing softly in the quiet house. Slowly, he nudges the door open just a bit, sneaking a peek inside. There you are, lying so peacefully on his bed. Seeing you like that, he can't help but smile. He figures you're completely knocked out, just by the way your chest rises up and down slowly.
Carefully, he steps into the room, trying not to disturb you. He places a glass of water on the nightstand nearby, a small gesture to make sure you're comfortable. With your eyes closed, you expect him to climb back into bed and pull you close, but he doesn't. Instead, you hear him shuffling around in his closet, then the soft click of the door as he leaves. The room suddenly feels a bit emptier without him, a stark contrast to the warmth you were anticipating.
Fully awake now, you scan around the room, but Megumi is nowhere to be seen. Sensing something amiss, you quickly get out of bed and grab a sweater and sweatpants from his closet to get dressed in before leaving his room and heading to the stairs.
As you approach the stairs, you spot Itadori and Megumi standing in front of the house door. Intrigued, you're about to head down to ask them what they're up to until you overhear their conversation. "Just stick to the plan," Itadori says, prompting a flood of questions in your mind. Plan? What plan? You can't help but wonder.
"Once you're done, send me the message, and I'll let Gojo know," Itadori continues, mentioning someone named Gojo. Gojo as in our Professor? The pieces of the puzzle aren't quite fitting together, leaving you confused and curious about their discussion.
"Got it. Thanks, Itadori," Megumi replies before stepping outside.
“Oh, and Megumi!” Itadori interjects before Megumi can step outside. Megumi turns around to face him, and Itadori hands him a small bottle. Megumi accepts it with a nod, tucking it into his pocket.
"Be careful," Itadori says, his voice carrying genuine concern and a hint of worry.
"I always am," Megumi replies, his smile offering reassurance. With that, he heads out, and Itadori closes the door behind him.
You've already made your way downstairs, and when Itadori turns to head up the stairs, he almost bumps into you, jolting back in fear as he wasn't expecting you to be there.
"Y/N! Holy shit, you scared me," he exclaims, catching his breath.
You look at him and then at the door behind him. "Where is Megumi going?"
"Uh... he just went to grab something. He'll be back soon," Itadori replies, his tone a bit nervous.
"At 5 in the morning?" you question, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh yeah, you know he's an early bird...."
"Hm. Let's go follow him then," you suggest, moving toward the door. However, Itadori steps in front of you, stopping you in your tracks.
"Let's not do that! He wants to be alone right now,"
"Don't be silly, Itadori! Come on," you insist, reaching for his car keys. But Itadori quickly snatches them from the table.
"Y/n, seriously, let's just go back to sleep. He'll be back soon," he urges, his tone firm.
"Why are you being weird?" you ask, puzzled by Itadori's behaviour.
Glancing down at the side table where everyone usually keeps their keys, you spot Toge's keys. You move closer to the door while Itadori is still in front of you, and notice him taking a step back every time you take a step forward. Slowly reaching for the door handle, you touch it and open the door. "Megumi's still here, maybe I'll go ask him," you say, tricking Itadori as he turns around to check. Seizing the opportunity, you quickly grab Toge's car keys and duck under Itadori's arm, running out the door and getting into Toge's car. You start up the engine, and hit the gas quickly before Itadori can even react.
Barely processing what happened, Itadori runs out the door, locking it and rushing to his car to follow you. "Fuck, Y/n, what the fuck," he breathes out, stressed, as he tries to catch up to you while you drive ahead.
You speed off, determined to find Megumi, and soon spot his car on the highway. "Found you," you mutter to yourself as you catch up to him, trying not to attract attention. There weren't many cars out at this hour, which was a relief considering your current state of intoxication. However, the lack of traffic also meant that any movement could draw unwanted attention. You tread carefully, mindful of the need to avoid attracting too much notice as you navigate the quiet streets.
Glancing in the mirror, you see Itadori's car right behind you. "Damn it, Itadori!" you curse under your breath, feeling the stress mounting. As he pulls up beside you, you both roll down your windows "Y/N, just turn back around!" he shouts, frustration evident in his voice.
"For a minute, Itadori, please, just fuck off!" you plead, feeling the urgency to find out what Megumi is up to. With determination, you hit the gas, speeding up to overtake him. Spotting Megumi exiting the highway, you follow suit, trailing him into a mysterious town in the middle of nowhere. Realizing that following him directly might raise suspicion, you decide to turn off your headlights and make a discreet U-turn to enter the town.
As you proceed cautiously, you notice Megumi's car parked ahead. Opting to stay inconspicuous, you pull over behind a building, grateful that Toge's car is black and less obvious in the dimly lit area.
You step out of your car, taking in the dimly lit surroundings. The neighbourhood is quiet, with not a lot of buildings in sight, most if not all of them are old looking. As you make your way toward Megumi's car, you're careful not to draw attention to yourself.
Why on earth would Megumi be here?
You hide behind a tree, looking out into the sparse glow, spotting Megumi standing alone in the empty parking lot. You can't help but notice that Megumi has something covering the lower half of his face—maybe a mask?
What are you up to Megumi?
You observe him lighting up something and bringing it to his mouth, while adjusting his mask just enough to inhale. Leaning against a nearby light pole, he seems lost in thought.
Is he just here to smoke? Could this be what he and Itadori were talking about? his last time before he stops? But why this place, if that's the case? Is it one of his secret “spots” he goes to escape?
You ponder these questions as your mind races. Suddenly, your attention is diverted as you notice another figure approaching, also clad in black with a mask covering half of their face. Megumi swiftly adjusts his mask back down over his mouth as he puts out the finished blunt under his foot.
What the fuck?
You watch as the two figures stare at each other, but their masks make it impossible to tell if they're talking. With careful steps, you get closer, trying to catch any snippets of conversation. It's hard to make out their words, but their gestures indicate they're definitely engaged in a discussion. Then, to your dismay, you see Megumi reach into his pocket and pull out something Itadori gave him earlier. Your heart sinks as you realize what it is.
Is he fucking dealing drugs?
What the actual fuck is going on.
Rage consumes you as you witness the scene unfolding before your eyes. You knew that you shouldn’t, knew it was dumb, but you couldn’t control the amount of anger propelling you forward. You dash towards them, unable to contain yourself any longer.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" you shout at Megumi, your voice filled with fury.
His expression drops at the sight of you, and you can almost feel the weight of his thoughts.
Damn it, Y/n, what the hell are you doing? he silently curses.
“What are you doing here?" he responds, his tone casual but his eyes betraying a simmering frustration. He's furious that you've stumbled upon this scene. You weren't supposed to witness this. Heck you weren't supposed to be here.
"You don't get to ask me what I'm doing here. What the hell are you doing here, and who the hell are you?" you fire back, your anger boiling over.
You glare at Megumi and the stranger standing before him. Before Megumi can even respond, the man bursts into laughter. You exchange puzzled glances with Megumi, then turn your attention back to the stranger.
"I knew I recognized you," he declares, pulling off his mask.
You stare at the man in disbelief. "Hey, sweetheart, missed me?" he says, winking at you before you snap back to reality, your shock quickly turning to fury.
"Haruta?"
"What the hell is going on? Why are you with my ex-boyfriend?" you demand, your anger escalating with each word.
"Y/n, it's not what it looks like," Megumi begins, but you cut him off with a scathing retort.
"Like hell it isn't, Megumi."
Your ex continues to laugh, only fueling your rage. "It's exactly what it looks like, isn't it, 'Megumi? Dealing drugs?" he taunts, and you shoot him a venomous glare.
"Shut the hell up, I'm not talking to you," you hiss, pointing a finger in his direction.
"Oh, still fierce as ever, are we?" Your heart pounds in your chest, his words dripping with mockery. Before you can react, he moves closer and grabs your wrist and pulls you towards him, his grip firm and unyielding. Panic surges through you as his arm snakes around your neck, trapping you in a suffocating embrace. You freeze, your breath catching in your throat, as his other hand reaches into his pocket, retrieving a knife. The cold metal presses against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. Paralyzed by fear, you can only gasp in shock, praying for a miracle to save you from this nightmare.
"Get your fucking hands off her!" Megumi shouts, his anger boiling over. Megumi's hand clenches into a tight fist, his nails digging into his skin with a ferocity that threatens to draw blood. His knuckles whiten with the intensity of his anger, a potent mix of fury and desperation swirling within him. The sight of you in danger ignites a primal rage deep within his core, fueling his resolve to protect you at any cost. Every fiber of his being strains against the urge to lash out, his muscles tensing as he struggles to contain the seething emotions coursing through him.
"Scared I'm gonna hurt your little girlfriend?" your ex taunts, provoking Megumi further.
"Watch who the hell you're talking to," Megumi warns, his voice laced with more anger. Megumi takes a step forward, ready to intervene, but freezes in his tracks as he sees your ex move the knife dangerously close to your neck. The sight of the blade drawing blood makes his blood run cold, a surge of fear and anger coursing through him. He's torn between rushing to your defense and the fear of escalating the situation further. Helplessness washes over him as he watches you flinch from the prick of the blade, It's a gut-wrenching moment, and he struggles to find a way to keep you safe without making things worse.
"G-gumi," Your voice trembles as you manage to utter Megumi's name, desperation and fear lacing your words. As you lock eyes with him, you see the fear and stress mirrored in his own gaze.
"Oh, don't be like that, sweetheart," he taunts in a cocky tone, his grip tightening around you. "Why say his name when I'm the one holding you close to me?" His words drip with arrogance, a cruel reminder of your vulnerability in this precarious situation. You can feel the tension in the air thickening, his voice a chilling contrast to the fear coursing through your veins.
"What the hell do you want?" Megumi's voice cuts through the tension, sharp with anger. His words are a demand, a challenge to your ex to justify his actions. The intensity in his tone is palpable, a reflection of the protective rage burning within him.
"Why are you doing this, Haruta?" you manage to choke out, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. His grip tightens on you, a cruel reminder of your vulnerability.
"Oh, come on, I think Megumi knows exactly why." He says while glancing at Megumi. "And honestly, you, y/n, made it quite easier for me." His laughter echoes.
"You think this is funny? Some kind of fucking game to you, huh? "
Haruta's laughter dies down as he meets Megumi's glare with a serious expression.
"Oh? Isn't this all just a game to you too, Megumi?" Haruta retorts, his tone biting. "Being sent out by your father, isn't that right?" The accusation hangs heavy in the air, and Megumi's silence speaks volumes.
"What the hell are you talking about?" you demand, your confusion mounting, but Haruta just smirks in response. Desperate for answers, you turn to Megumi, searching his face for any sign of explanation.
"Megumi, what the hell is he talking about?"
But he doesn't say anything he just glares at Haruta, his silence only seeming to fuel Haruta's excitement.
"That little boyfriend of yours hasn't told you, huh?" Haruta chuckles slightly, his tone dripping with malice. "Let me get it in that little pretty head of yours, sweetheart,"
Before Haruta can continue, a new figure enters the scene, his imposing presence commanding attention. He's a towering man, muscular and intimidating, clad in a tight black shirt that accentuates his physique. His dark hair falls across his face, framing sharp features, and a scar mars the right side of his lip, adding to his rugged appearance.
"That's enough," he interjects, his voice low and authoritative, cutting off Haruta mid-sentence. His arrival casts a palpable tension, his gaze flickering between you three with a silent warning.
"Ahh, Toji Zenin," Haruta acknowledges with a smirk, his tone laced with a hint of amusement. As Toji approaches, his gaze fixates on you, a silent warning in his eyes.
But before he can reach you, Haruta brings the knife dangerously close to your neck again. "Uh uh uh," he taunts, his smirk widening.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Toji walks over to Megumi, offering a brief, reassuring pat on the back before casually leaning against him, his elbow resting on Megumi's shoulder. His gaze sweeps over both of you, his expression one of nonchalant indifference, as if the entire situation bores him.
Holy shit they look so alike...
Before you can process what's happening, Toji springs into action with lightning speed. In the blink of an eye, he rushes towards Haruta, shoving him away from you with a swift, decisive motion. With effortless efficiency, Toji traps Haruta in a chokehold, his movements fluid and precise. The suddenness of it all leaves you stunned, as if time itself has slowed to a crawl.
Gasping for air, you clutch at your neck, the sensation of Haruta's grip still lingering painfully. In an instant, Megumi is by your side, pulling you into his embrace with a fierce protectiveness. His arms envelop you, offering a sense of safety and comfort amidst the chaos.
"Hey, hey, hey, look at me," Megumi's voice is gentle yet firm as he lifts your head to meet his gaze. "You're okay," he reassures you, his words a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. It's only then that you realize tears are streaming down your cheeks, your emotions finally breaking free. Megumi's touch is tender as he brushes away your tears.
Megumi's gaze meets Toji's for a fleeting moment, a silent exchange of understanding passing between them. He knows they need to leave before things escalate further. Turning his attention back to you, Megumi's voice is gentle as he suggests, "Hey, let's go back to my car, okay?" Taking your hand, he leads you away from the tense atmosphere, guiding you both towards safety. Once inside the car, a heavy silence settles between you, the echoes of the recent events still lingering in the air.
"What the hell just happened?" you break the silence, the words tumbling out in a mixture of confusion and disbelief.
Megumi's grip on the steering wheel tightens, his jaw clenched with a mixture of anger and frustration. "I don't know."
"You weren't supposed to be here. You shouldn't have been here."
"Please… tell me what's going on," you plead, your voice filled with desperation. The uncertainty weighs heavily on you, the need for answers pressing against your thoughts like a relentless tide. You search his eyes for any sign of clarity, hoping to unravel the mysteries that have unfolded before you.
Megumi's gaze softens as he meets your eyes, a mixture of guilt and determination reflected in his expression.
"It's… complicated."
"I don't fucking care how complicated it is, Megumi," you exclaim, your voice laced with anger and frustration. "After going through all of that, I need an explanation. Why the fuck were you here? Why were you with my ex? What the hell were you doing?" Each word is punctuated by the weight of your emotions, demanding clarity and understanding from the chaos that has unfolded.
"These are things you shouldn't know, Y/n. Please, just drop it." It's a plea born out of a desire to shield you from the dangers.
But despite his words, you can't shake the feeling that there's more to the story, secrets hidden beneath the surface waiting to be unearthed. And as you stare into his eyes, you can't help but wonder what else he's keeping from you, what other truths lie hidden in the depths of his silence.
"I can't do this anymore. You're just like Haruta. Lying and keeping shit hidden. What the hell, Megumi? I'm done," you declare, frustration and hurt lacing your words as you reach for the door handle, ready to walk away.
But before you can open the door, Megumi's hand lands firmly on your thigh, his grip tightening to prevent you from leaving.
"Don't compare me to that piece of shit," he interjects, his voice filled with a mixture of anger and hurt.
"Then stop acting like him!"
"Y/n, I can't just tell you this shit."
"Why? Why the hell not?" you demand, your anger boiling over.
"I told you it's fucking complicated."
"I almost got fucking killed, Megumi. Isn't that good enough to explain what the fuck happened?"
"Angel, please," Megumi implores, his voice soft with a plea.
"I thought so. Bye, Megumi."
But before you can make your exit again, his grip tightens ever so slightly. "Angel," he says again, his voice carrying a weight of uncertainty.
"If I tell you this, you'll end up hating me," he continues, his words heavy with the weight of his fears. "You'll despise me, never want to talk to me again…"
"No, that’s not true…"
"You say that now, but you don't know… you don't know what I've done," he murmurs, his voice heavy with guilt.
Your heart aches at the pain etched across his features. "Whatever it is, we can work through it together," you reply, reaching out to gently touch his hand.
"Fuck… okay," Megumi begins, his voice heavy with the weight of his confession.
"My dad… he's not a good person, not anymore at least... It started when my mom passed away, happened when was young. Losing her took a toll on him, and he… he lost himself in his grief. He didn't know how to take care of me, how to be there for me."
He pauses, his words carrying a sense of pain and regret. "To cope, he turned to gambling. It started innocently enough, but it quickly became an addiction. And when money became short, he became desperate. That's when he turned to… other things... bad things," Megumi continues, his voice strained.
"He joined the family mafia, thinking it was the easiest way to make money. But their 'missions' weren't just petty crimes. They involved… murder. Not just anyone, though. They targeted important people, threats to the family or rival mafia members." The weight of his words hangs in the air, a stark reminder of the darkness that has tainted his family's legacy.
"But even that wasn't enough," Megumi continues, his voice growing quieter, weighed down by the enormity of his words. "He kept gambling, losing all the money he would make… And knowing he wasn't doing a good job at taking care of me, he… he sold me."
"He sold me to someone who took me in... Saturo Gojo."
"Wait… Saturo Gojo, as in our professor?" you interject, shock coloring your voice. Megumi simply nods in confirmation.
"But why are you with Toji now?" you press, your confusion deepening.
"Gojo got him locked up, but a few months ago, he escaped prison… and found me, he threatened to kill me, my friends, Gojo, if I didn't listen to his orders… So out of instinct, I complied. I didn't want any of them to get hurt."
"Why the hell would someone's father threaten to kill their own son? That's beyond messed up…" you exclaim, your voice trembling with disbelief and anger.
"He would tell me to sell these drugs to the people he's targeting so I could get their numbers, meet up with them when they want more, and then he'll come and… murder them."
"Wait… so, Haruta… he's… he's one of Toji's targets?"
Megumi nods solemnly, confirming your worst fears. "Yeah… Haruta was one of his targets," he admits, his voice heavy with sorrow.
"But… why? Why is he a target?"
"He's the son of one of the highest-ranking mafia leaders… He's killed many people before, and he was a big threat to the Zenin clan," Megumi reveals, his words heavy with the weight of truth.
"He what?!" you exclaim, your voice trembling with fear. The revelation sends a shockwave of fear and disgust through you, your mind reeling at the realization that your ex-boyfriend was not only a member of a dangerous criminal organization but also a murderer.
"This would've ended months ago… but he probably figured it out,"
"What do you mean? Figured out about the Zenins' attack?"
Megumi hesitates before continuing, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. "The first time I gave him drugs, it was at a party… My d—Toji—made me give him a blunt, but… he laced it with heavier shit. Like high amounts of fentanyl. That was his first attempt to kill him, but he didn't smoke it. So I tried plan B… I made him try cocaine… He did, and he got addicted."
"Wait… so his addiction started… because of you?"
Megumi's silence speaks volumes, the weight of his guilt evident in the downturn of his expression. "Yeah… I played a part in it," he admits, his voice heavy with remorse. "I didn't know what Toji had planned at the time… but I was still responsible for giving him the drugs."
"No, no, no, no, no,"
"Megumi…" your voice breaks slightly as you struggle to convey the depth of your emotions. "Do you not see how messed up this is?"
"I know… I'm so-"
"No! You don't understand," you interrupt, your voice tinged with frustration and pain. "You're the one who gave him the drugs. The drugs he got addicted to and tried making me do. That's when he became even more emotionally abusive." Tears well up in your eyes as you struggle to contain the flood of emotions threatening to consume you.
His heart shatters at your words, the weight of your pain crashing over him like a tidal wave. How could he have unknowingly contributed to the suffering you endured at the hands of your ex? The thought is like a knife to his heart, tearing him apart from the inside out.
"If I had known… If I had known you were a part of his life, I…" Megumi's voice falters, his words choked with emotion. He struggles to find the right words to express the depth of his regret, the overwhelming guilt threatening to consume him.
"I would have done things differently. I would have protected you, kept you safe from harm," he continues, his voice trembling with emotion. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted any of this to happen."
As he speaks, his words are a desperate plea for forgiveness, a fervent wish to turn back time and undo the pain he's caused. But he knows that he can never erase the past.
You step out of the car, your voice trembling with emotion, a sense of numbness washes over you. "I-I can't do this right now…" you murmur, your words barely audible.
"Y/n! Wait!" Megumi's desperate shout echoes in the air.
"Y/n…?" Megumi's voice softens as he steps out of the car, searching frantically for any sign of you. Panic sets in as he realizes you're nowhere to be seen.
i have no words.
TAGLIST <3
@lavender-hvze @xbarrjallenx @atinymonbebestay @1l-ynn @chilichopsticks @dr-fluff-meow @lost-resonance @maya-maya-56 @ichorstainedskin @luciiferslover @madaqueue @vanitywoo @hazedganyu
#fushiguro megumi x reader#smau#jjk smau#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#megumi fushiguro#megumi smau#jjk fluff#megumi fluff#fluff#angst#jjk angst#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smau#jujutsu kaisen megumi#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x reader angst#jjk x reader fluff#jjk series#fushiguro#megumi x you#megumi x reader#megumi fanfic#megumi smut#fushiguro megumi smut
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How do you think cg!Rafe would react to little!reader who has had a really bad day and is very deep in littlespace?
I'm not really happy with how this turned out but I tried 😭
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You both had been invited to some family gathering by Rafe's dad. It was a fancy restaurant and many relatives were there which already made you nervous because you had the urge to be little since you woke up but decided to push that away for the sake of Rafe not canceling, knowing he would do that in a heartbeat but you wanted to impress his family since you still felt out of place any time at one of the Cameron's gatherings and decided not to tell him.
Everything had gone smoothly until you went to use the restroom. Sitting in your stall you could hear two of his cousins talking bad about you. You tried holding back your tears but the second you heard the door shut again your feelings poured over.
You didn't know how long you had been sitting there sobbing, that fuzzy feeling you get when you're at the verge of slipping having you shake your head.
"No, no, no...not now- be big. Imma big girl-" You mumbled to yourself, getting up and checking if anyone is there before you went to look at yourself in the mirror, scolding yourself. "Stop being a baby."
If Rafe could hear you right now. Lord have mercy. He would scold you even more for disrespecting your little self.
When you were sure your crying stopped you wiped away the remaining tears and took a deep breath. Leaving the restroom you suddenly bumped into someones chest, looking up you sighed when it was da- Rafe.
"You were gone for a while, you okay?" He asked and even though you nod he knew you were lying, your puffy and red eyes giving you away. He just let it go for now as the evening is almost over and you both just wanted to get over with it.
Later in the car you were silent, just looking out the window and playing with the end of your soft pink dress. Rafe glanced your way and sighed.
"Look, I- I know something happened earlier and don't say 'it's nothing' because when you cried about it's- it's not nothing, a'ight? So, tell me."
You just shook your head, not in the mood to talk anymore today. The only thing you wanted now was to wrap yourself in a blanket and sleep.
He wanted to press the subject further, placing his hand on your thigh to give you some assurance but you only shrugged his hand off and Rafe then slowly figured that you may have slipped the second you got in the car and that you're probably just tired and overstimulated from everything.
"Okay, I understand. Let's- we'll talk about it later." He said and you didn't give him any sign of acknowledgement, looking out the window again.
Back at home you completely shut down, quickly making your way to the bedroom, grabbing your lamb stuffie and curled up under the covers. All the big emotions you felt having frustrated tears flowing down your cheeks again.
Rafe came in a few minutes later and smirked, not obvious to the situation and sat down by your side, pulling the bedsheets off your head and is instantly worried by your tears, his eyes widen.
"Hey, Hey, hey. C'mere." He pulled you into his arms, ignoring your fussing and weak attempts at trying to push him away. "No- none of that. Shh, you're okay."
You only whined, giving up and slumping against him, gripping onto his shirt and letting the tears flow. Rafe started rocking you while whispering affirmations, practically suffocating you in his hold but that's exactly what you needed right now.
After your little meltdown you pulled your face from his neck, looking up at him with big eyes, just blinking at him slowly. He was a bit irritated because he didn't know that look at all.
You only mumbled a small 'daddy' before placing your head back on his shoulder and slipping your thumb between your lips.
It then clicked in Rafe's head.
"Someone's feeling really small, hm?" He rubbed your arm, feeling you nod against him. "That's okay. That's why daddy's here, to take care of you."
He just kept holding and rocking you. When you were sound asleep he reached over to grab your paci from your nightstand and took your thumb out of your mouth, quickly replacing it with the paci when you started to stir.
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Taglist
For everything:
@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @aagn360 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @fluffyblanketgecko @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse @kissforvoid
For Rafe:
@chiaraanatra
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Another request 👉🏼👈🏼
Depressed geto × reader , Their first meeting and their attraction to each other, and how geto finally felt like he could breathe after he felt happy with her and fell in love with her.
Saving his life
comfort with Geto
thank you for your request!! I'll try my best then <3
requests are open :)
The last few days, or even weeks, were pretty hard for Geto Suguru. Since the incident with his best friend and their mission, Suguru hasn't been the same. He was clearly overthinking all the time, and getting out was a real difficulty for him. He was doing the bare minimum, when he was able to. Depression was hitting hard, even if he refused to admit it.
He was outside today, as he had to do some groceries. Nothing too much, but it was a necessity. Long black hair running down his shoulders, and visible dark circles under his eyes ; no one would dare even approach him like this. No one except you.
He was in front of a display, looking for something, when he heard someone clear his throat. You were right behind him, with this soft look on his face, all shy at the idea of talking to him. You looked away, playing nervously with the handle of your bag.
“Excuse me, can you help me, please? I need this, up there, but I can’t reach it,” you said, pointing out the thing on the top shelf. He looked at it, before looking back at you. He stayed silent, before grabbing the said thing, and giving it to you. A smile appeared on your lips, before you let his gaze again.
“Thank you!” You told him, before slightly waving at him. In those words, you left to go back to doing your own groceries. He stayed there for a few moments before a soft smile left his lips, going back to what he was doing.
After this, you met each other a few times. It was like fate wanted you to meet again and again. It was in random situations, and soon or later he learned your name. He wasn’t really in the mood to meet anyone, or even to let anyone come into his life ; but you were so sweet, all the time.
You were like a ray of light in the dark hell of his mind. You were constantly the only positive thing that happened in his day every time he was meeting you. You were just here, with your bright smile and your soft voice. No matter how bad he felt, it was always better when you were here.
He wasn’t so sure about how he felt about you. It was a bit messy in his head because he was so lost with himself and his own emotions. But after some time, he started to see you voluntarily. In fact, he was asking you out for dates, but he wouldn’t admit it. He wasn’t ready to even think about a relationship right now.
But you were, and you knew that you started to like him. Suguru was a man who was getting killed slowly by his own mind, and you didn’t want to let him stay in this hell alone. You wanted to help him, and he was willing to let you do it, then you would.
Day after day, you were growing closer to each other. And finally, Suguru started to realize how he felt towards you. You were a new breath in his life, and he knew that he couldn’t get out of this alone. He needed help, and letting you get into his life would probably be the first step for this. This is why he decided to speak to you about it.
He called you, asking you to join him in his own apartment, which you did without hesitation. You were a bit worried about him, because he wasn’t really letting you in too frequently. Something inside of you was telling you that something happened. You were glad to see that you were wrong.
Suguru offered to come sit on the couch with him, and you did without saying anything. Both of you stayed silent for a few moments, before he broke it. He sighed slowly, before massaging his temples. He looked at you, hesitating for some time.
“I wanted to thank you. You’re helping me, probably more than you would think, and I needed to say thank you,” he started, and you were ready to answer when he stopped you by raising his hand a little. “Let me finish, please.”
You nodded slowly, and he pursued his words. “I think I’m ready to get some help, for real I mean. But I can’t do this alone. And…” He sighed one more time, rubbing his cheek as he was searching for his words. “What I’m trying to say is that I would love to have you in my life. More than this, I mean.”
You looked at him without saying anything, processing what he had just said. You weren’t so sure of what he meant, or at least you were scared that you understood it wrong. You were looking into his eyes, before you finally answered. “Are you… asking me out?”
He looked away, and you could see a hint of a blush over his cheeks. You took it as a yes, and a soft smile appeared on your lips. You slowly grabbed his hands, making him look back at you. “I’d love that, Suguru.”
This time, it was his turn to process your words. He hoped with everything that you would say yes, but a part of him was scared that he would make you run away. And as you were ready to say something, he simply took your face between his hands to kiss you like his life was depending on it.
It was only the first step, but he knew that with you in his life, nothing could go wrong.
hope you liked it!! I've done my best, sorry if it's not perfect :(
#geto suguru#geto x reader#geto headcanons#geto hcs#jjk geto#jujutsu geto#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jujutsu kaisen hcs#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk headcanons#jjk hcs
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Yours Forever and Ever : Part 2
Yandere Katakuri x Isekai Reader
Things to note: Angst, Manipulative Behavior - where Katakuri gaslights [Y/n] and guilt-trips her.
Much to her surprise, Katakuri has been very nice to her. His behavior towards her was like a slap to her face when she compared it to the possible worst-case scenarios she had of him. It's not like she was complaining though.
"Are you bored?"
Katakuri's voice snapped her out of her daze. She was sitting on the edge of his bed and was daydreaming. Katakuri sat on what seemed like his working desk, writing something. It probably has something to do with the wedding preparations.
"Kind of?" [Y/n] tilted her head.
Katakuri looked at her before dropping his quill pen and walking towards her. The bed shifted a little when he sat beside her.
"I've been wanting to ask you something," Katakuri started. [Y/n] stared at him silently, waiting for him to continue. "How do you feel about this whole thing?"
"Which one? Being kidnapped and held as a hostage or my friend's wedding with your sister?"
"Everything," Katakuri answered.
"Sure, this whole thing was unexpected but I'm not bothered at all," She shrugged.
"And why is that?"
"Well, when you have someone like Luffy as your captain, crazy things always happen which is normal. Plus, I have faith in Luffy. I know we will always find a way out of difficult situations," Katakuri noticed how her lips curled up into a soft smile, how her eyes looked innocent and overall, a gentle expression she has on her face.
Katakuri was jealous of Luffy. He didn't like how she was so devoted to Luffy. How much she trusted him and her loyalty towards him. What does that damn straw hat has that he doesn't? What should he do to make her act the same towards him? He didn't know but one thing for sure, no matter what, he would never let go of her.
Katakuri hesitated to ask but did it anyway, "Does that mean... you will leave me?"
[Y/n] paused not knowing what to say. Katakuri had been sweet to her. He was kind and she felt grateful towards him but staying here forever? She couldn't see that happening. She didn't mind visiting him occasionally but being stuck in a place forever? Joining a crew as worse as the Big Mom pirates? Yeah, no.
Katakuri was such a sweetheart and a good friend of hers. He'd probably be happy if she accepted his offer to join his crew but that was only him and maybe Brulee too but the others? She'd probably spend the rest of her life being bullied by them whenever Katakuri wasn't around.
"[Y/n]?" Katakuri called her. She looked at him in the eyes and sighed, "Katakuri, you're a very nice person and I'm thankful for that. I honestly don't know what would have happened to me if your siblings were the ones I'd be held hostage by."
Katakuri smiled under his scarf, "It's not a problem at all."
"But I don't think I can abandon my crew for something like that," [Y/n] didn't dare to look at him in the eyes. She knew Katakuri would be upset.
"Am I not important to you?" His voice was cold and there was a hint of sadness behind it.
"You are!" She quickly denied him. "It's just.. you know, I don't know how to explain it but I will come by and visit you often," She tried to reassure him but it didn't help. Katakuri was still gloomy.
[Y/n] was met with silence. Katakuri didn't even look at her. He just stared into space not saying anything which worried her. She placed her hand on his and squeezed it lightly, "Katakuri? I'm sorry. I'm sorry, okay? I wish we met under different circumstances."
"I don't want that," Katakuri mumbled but [Y/n] couldn't make out what he said.
"Come again?"
Katakuri slowly took off his scarf, dropping it on the floor. He finally faced [Y/n] but this time his whole face was exposed, allowing her to see his expression.
When she saw her face, it shocked her. His mouth turned downwards, frowning. His eyebrows knitted together and his eyes reflected desperation, frustration, and sadness. [Y/n] had never seen Katakuri like this. The only time she had seen him with this kind of expression was when he was younger and Brulee got hurt.
"I don't want that, [Y/n]!" He hugged her. "Please don't leave me."
[Y/n] didn't know what to say. Why was Katakuri acting like this? She couldn't think of any other reason but one. He liked her but why? They haven't known each other for long. Was it love at first sight? No, that was absurd and out of character for him.
[Y/n] remembered something and wanted to make sure what she thought was right. She pushed Katakuri away and looked at him.
"Why did you take off your scarf?"
Katakuri was taken aback by her sudden question.
"You never took it off so I assume that it's your biggest insecurity," She continued. "So, why?"
Katakuri sighed, "Because I trusted you. I had a feeling you wouldn't judge me." Well, he wasn't wrong but he literally killed people if they saw him like this even if it was unintentional, and yet here he was, taking it off and showing his weakness to her willingly.
So, she was right. Katakuri liked her but what about her? She didn't know how to feel about this. She knew about Katakuri but never got to know him personally.
"Or am I wrong? Do you hate me now because I look like this?" Katakuri said which made her stare at him in disbelief. "What? No! Are you kidding me?"
Katakuri smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear, "Then, I don't see the problem here."
[Y/n] avoided his eyes and sighed, "No, you are not getting it, Katakuri. I can't just abandon my crew. I have friends out there and I can't leave them like-"
Katakuri cut her off with a groan, "It's always about your crew. What about me? Do you not care about me? Then all those words you said were just words that meant nothing. You're lying to me, [Y/n]."
"No, Katakuri, that's not what I meant," But she was cut off by the knocks from a servant.
"Katakuri-sama? Mama would like to see you," He said before leaving.
"It's okay, you can stop pretending to care. It hurts more if you act like you care. I would prefer if you didn't and just be honest with me," Katakuri said as he got up from the bed and put on his scarf.
He started to walk away but [Y/n] immediately followed him.
"Wait, no! You've got it all wrong!" She grabbed his arm to stop him but Katakuri shook it off. With his strength, [Y/n] fell onto the ground and yelped in pain.
Katakuri looked at her and for a moment, he felt bad for hurting her. It wasn't his intention to hurt her and never will he hurt her. He walked back to her and crouched down.
He took her wrists in his hand and destroyed those cuffs. [Y/n] closed her eyes waiting for the explosion but it never came. She opened her eyes and was met with Katakuri's cold ones.
"It was just a fake to scare you off."
[Y/n] looked at her now free hands and looked back at Katakuri.
"You're free now. You can run back to your crew that you love so much and leave me behind," Katakuri said making her feel a pang of guilt.
[Y/n] didn't move an inch. She stayed in the same position.
"What's stopping you, [Y/n]? I don't matter to you and nothing is holding you back so what's stopping you?" Katakuri repeated before standing up and turning around to leave.
"Katakuri! There's been a misunderstanding. Please, hear me out!" [Y/n] pleaded but Katakuri ignored her pleas slamming the door in her face.
"Katakuri..." [Y/n] whispered sadly.
[Y/n] felt guilty. Had she gone too far with rejecting him? But it was all too sudden for her and she didn't know what to do. She didn't know Katakuri was feeling like that.
She felt like crap. She felt like a horrible person. She didn't want to leave her crew. She had stayed with them for a long time and grew fond of them but she didn't want to leave Katakuri too. Especially, now that she knows he felt hurt and betrayed by her.
[Y/n] didn't know what was the right decision to make.
Should she stay?
#one piece#yandere one piece#yandere katakuri#yandere x reader#charlotte katakuri x reader#op katakuri#katakuri one piece#katakuri x reader#charlotte katakuri
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Gotham being a fuck up City once more
Gotham is a City with a lot of problems, Jason Todd knows it very well. And this is not about the pollution, corruption or the villains but the city itself is like that. The City is vile, dirty and knows how to make your old wounds bleed.
And sometimes Jason really hates Gotham because of this, the City plays with everyone and anyone. Oracle sent some messages to everyone, saying something about weird supernatural shit happens and everyone should be careful that night while Batman is working... Well Jason don't care.
Jason Todd is having a shit week and he is fucking tired! He just wants to go home and sleep - and maybe some beer and shower. Be the whatever shit is batman doing now it's definitely not his problem.
And Jason actually did it! He manages to avoid his siblings the whole way to the safe house. but before entering he sees a woman sitting against the door, his whole body freezes and he regrets not having paid attention to the warning because Jason knows that woman. And she definitely doesn't should be there.
"Jason" the woman got up and smiled at him, "look at you... You become so tall"
Jason's first instinct is run, but his body doesn't move, he barely can think
"look at your hands" Catharine keeps smiling and holds her son's hands, there's so much sweetie in her voice "I remember when you were a baby, your hands were so tiny, both of your hands fit in one of mine... look at you now... this time I'm the one who has to use two hands to hold one of yours"
Jason doesn't want to believe in it! She was dead! He knows it! She died years ago... But...but...
Catherine lets go of Jason's hand when she notices that her son is silent
"I understand, you must be angry with me... I'm sorry..." she starts to walk away, after all, what kind of mother was she?
That was enough for Jason to panic, whatever that was in front of him, he wasn't going to let it go that easily. He didn't understand why his parents always abandoned him, but whatever it was, he wanted to keep her there a little more
"I... I... I hurt people, mom..I hurt so many people" Jason doesn't know what makes him say that, at all the things he should say he chose. Why can't he do nothing right?
Catherine looks for her son again, She brings her hand to his face, wiping away the soft tears that have started to fall.
When did Jason start crying?
"You were trying to protect someone, weren't you? I know who you are Jason, you are my son, I raised you... you must have become such a smart man, do you still like books? I remember you loved going to the public library to read, it was a free trip so we walked there every weekend"
Jason hates it. Why Gotham keep tutoring him like that? Why Gotham keep doing this?
and the rest of the night the boy and his mom are just talking with each other in the same way they did before the drugs... She asked about the books he was reading at that time, his friends, if he had someone in his life...
They talked for hours but not enough... And then she disappears before the sun rises followed by the Oracle message "situation over control now, everything will be normal for now on"
And Jason starts sobbing on the floor again. He definitely hates how Gotham plays with everyone
#catherine todd#jason todd#dc comics#batfamily#dc comics fanfic#this come to me as a vision sorry if this is not good
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A.B.A x Human Paracelsus fanfic ideaaaaaaaaa...
Summary: Human Paracelsus may be in a human body, but he can't help his thirst for blood. Just so happens that his wife accidentally cut her finger-- the smell of mercury doesn't stop him though :)
Warning: a bit NSFW-ish? Blood kink too-- Idk :P [Post Strive]
_____________
After a long search, A.B.A was finally able to find a body suited for Paracelsus. Just seeing him in his new form had her madly in love again now that he has arms to wrap around her...or so she thought.
While Paracelsus "appreciated" her gesture (albeit loosely), he can't help but to feel strange about this human form- so many sensations that are too overwhelming to comprehend. Flesh that he sought after in violence now plastered on this feeble yet lean body, something A.B.A wished for. After agreeing to make things better with his partner, he took his share of work and helped A.B.A live out her domestic fantasies, starting off with cooking meals after they found an abandoned cabin.
A.B.A isn't much of a cook in terms of what she serves. She understands and quickly learns about how it works, but using ingredients that are not suited for one another is what hinders her, often cleaned up by Paracelsus so she wouldn't get upset about her mishap.
One morning, he woke up to a delicious smell. Perhaps his wife finally grasped the fundamentals of basic cooking, but he wagered it'd be a risk if he went to try her concoction blindly. Having acquired a human sense of smell and taste, he needed to exercise them with better options rather than risking it with something foul.
Heading towards the kitchen, he saw the homunculous trying her best to whip up a a meal along with piles of dirty dishes on the sink that is wordlessly assigned to him. On the table were what humans call "scrambled eggs", but it seems that it had bits of shells left on them.
But besides the whole mess, he noticed that there's something in the young woman that he didn't quite notice before he acquired a human body.
Never had he viewed her as someone who has a venusian charm; her figure could be compared to those statues of women whose arms are cut off to expose their ample bosoms. He supposed that this is a human experience, one that is alien to him, for he had never got the concept of "attraction". His so-called wife, however, had showed him examples of what it is to be attracted to someone, which what got themselves into this situation.
"Dear, you're awake!" A.B.A turned around to her husband, snaping him from his daze. "I do hope your new form is not so much of a burden..."
"I'm fine, A.B.A." he lied, not wanting to upset her.
The homunculous only responded with gleeful demeanor and returned to her task. "I'm sure you're experiencing hunger for the first time...after days of walking to find shelter." She hummed sweetly. "I-I'm trying to make something to replenish you..."
Paracelsus stayed quiet and proceeded to sit on the chair. When they entered the cabin, all the furnitures were blanketed with dust, including the table they occupied. To his surprise, it was clean and it even had a vase of fresh flowers that she must've picked outside- it was a small silent countryside after all. He assumed that A.B.A did all this while he was sleeping. He'd be lying if he didn't admit he was impressed. She did always go above and beyond to provide for them.
All of a sudden, he heard a squeal.
"Eek!" She screamed, followed by a sound of metal clanking on a wooden board.
"A.B.A! Are you alright?" Paracelsus stood up and rushed to his partner. "What happened?"
"I-it's nothing, dear..." she reluctantly responded. "Y-you should prepare the plates..."
Not buying a word, he beckoned her to show what she was hiding in her arms. A.B.A eventually complied, not wishing to disappoint her husband in fear that he would get frustrated and walk out of the door, seeing that he can now freely go anywhere he wish with those limbs. She hesitantly gave her hand to him, hoping he wouldn't think of her any less for a simple mistake of cutting her finger by accident.
"I-I should have been more careful, dear. I'm not fit to be a good wife if I keep being reckless." She shuddered, an instinct that Paracelsus know all too well when she's stressed. The crimson red substance pooled from the slit on her pale finger down to her palm.
He shouldn't have looked directly at it.
Paracelsus knew that his cravings for blood won't be diluted even if he was in a human body. He is a demon after all. But it was a strange feeling that wasn't akin to hunger, but something else. Yes, it is true that A.B.A had a mixture of mercury in her blood, but its color was as fascinating as that of a human blood.
He excused himself and wasted no time in finding a first aid kit, but the girl halted him by grabbing his arm. Paranoia was something she could not get rid of, even if it jeopardizes her in dire situations.
"No wait! I can fix it!" She insisted as she tugged on his arm, carelessly rubbing her wounded hand and letting her blood smudge on his skin. He gulped, feeling how wet and warm it seemed.
"Please dear, I can handle it! Let me wrap it myself. I'm sorry to have made you worried." A.B.A tugged on her bandanges on her leg, neverminding if it exposes her further.
All of these happening in front of him was driving him insane: his wife's intoxicating blood, her sweet panicked face, and her leg that teased him as soon as those bandages were repurposed to aid her wound.
Before she could wrap it on her hand, Paracelsus grabbed her injured hand and inspected it. What comes next was something A.B.A herself found shocking.
He licked her wound and begun sucking on it.
The sensation was so overwhelming that she was certain she nearly forgot the ability to speak. A.B.A watched in astonishment until she felt her legs wobble; only then she regained her voice.
"D-dear...?" She found herself having difficulty expressing her thoughts. Paracelsus kept sucking on her blood, not minding how it burns his tongue. What a pathetic flesh, he thought.
As if his fighting spirit also got converted into a human equivalent, he soon finds himself grabbing A.B.A closer to him and eventually trailing his free hand dangerously close to her plump ass. The young female homunculous couldn't help but to admire what her generous and loving husband is doing to her, evident by how her breathing quickened.
Soon, he carried her and pinned her down on the table. Screw the eggs, he was hungry for something this new body was craving for- her flesh. His ravenous side earning the upper hand as he starts to kiss his bride harshly on her lips, making A.B.A fluster more than she usually does. Those kisses turned into full on lip-locking, pooling their mouths with each other's saliva. His kisses soon attacked her neck, ripping off the bandanges that was blocking him from giving his sweet wife the pleasure she deserves.
It was no doubt that even in human form, he was still susceptive to primal urges such as blood, but this time, it was mixed with carnal desire.
And it seems he wasn't the only one enjoying it. A.B.A was more than eager to reciprocate this affection. She was more than ready to finally do it with her husband after years of solitude.
Oh how sweet it was to finally consumate their marriage.
Er...to be continued on ao3? This is just a stupid fanfic idea 💀🔫
Tagging @l00nwizard and @weeko bc of your replies. Sorry if this one is not too wholesome, but its a ficlet ig 💀😭🔫
#aba x paracelsus#aba & paracelsus#aba guilty gear#a.b.a x paracelsus#a.b.a guilty gear#paracelsus guilty gear#sorry im lame#im bad at stpry telling lol#ao3 fanfic#fanfic ideas
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Ik its not ur post but the camp counselor hcs got me thinkin about the listeners being counselors for another camp and the boys camp and theirs have a friendly rivalry. The boys n listeners sittin around a campfire at night when all the kids are sleeping. End of camp counselor vs counselor tug of war. Pls its so cute
Tug of War.
Both sides were whisper yelling at each other as they all pulled on the rope as hard as they could. Trying to be quiet since all the kids were put done to sleep, Auron could feel a headache coming on from all the grunting. Sighing he looks to his right to see Rook cheering, silently, on the group their friend's were on, while the boys were on the other side. The whole thing started because Alphonse was shit talking to Boo. Which usually didn't cause anything to happen but Boo decided why not take him up on his bet he said in the spur of the moment? First they had to convince Auron that it was a good idea.
"No." is what they got, the older man was looking over different papers of the children that came in making sure that none of the activities tomorrow would affect any of them.
"Auron, pal, budd-" A glare was shot at Alphonse to shut him up. It was clear they weren't going to get through to him as they were politely kicked out of his cabin. Boo had a plan B for situations for this, dragging Alphonse by his arm they started to hunt down Rook's location on the grounds.
On the other side of the camp, Rook was closing the last door of the cabin they were watching over today. But as they turn they almost screamed when Boo spawned out of no where, Alphonse seeing this hurried to cover Rook's mouth. The person with his hand on their face glared at both of them, it's funny how Rook can gather up energy to give them the 'Auron Stare' as Faust says. So Alphonse quickly got his hand off of their face as Boo explained the bet he said.
"Okay so, Al here, shit talker mother fucker." A eye roll is what they got as a response, "Said that the boys could beat us listeners in a tug of war game easily." Rook looked at Al and giggled. They wondered why both decided to tell them this...oh so that's what they need from them.
"And you couldn't convince Auron that it was a good idea?" The baker and pinkette nodded together. Rook sighed as they whipped out their phone and checked the time, "If I can't convince him in 5 minutes were going to have it tomorrow so the kids can have something fun to watch got it?" The other two nodded as they rushed to tell the other counselors the fun idea. It was easy to get all the adults at the campfire that they usually have when the kids all hunker down for the night. But it was kinda hard to convince them to play tug of war.
"Why would I want to do that and ruin my nail polish?" Faust said as Star sat next to him, but luckily his partner answered for Alphonse.
"What scared us listeners would win?" Faust looked at his partner unfazed, "Starlight you need to try harder than that." Some of the adults agreed with Faust, not with the nail polish but it was kinda late to be doing this.
"How about a reward for the group that wins?" Scout smirked as they spoke, this got everyone attention. "Losers....have to clean the bathrooms." They all looked at Scout who was glaring at Alphonse, "What you say candy boy?" Alphonse scoffed as he bend down to talk shit, "Be-" He was interrupted by a loud cough.
Auron was standing there with his arms crossed with a annoyed look on his face, along with a viewable kiss mark. Rook was smiling next to him holding one of his arms "I was able to convince him!" Auron rolled his eyes as he looked at Alphonse, Boo and Scout.
"So, losers clean the bathrooms? Fine." Alphonse sent a thank you to Rook but Auron spoke again, "Who's going to play?" Looking at the group of adults most of the listeners agreed to play but of course. Faust had to be convinced, what got him into gear was Auron whispering something to him and he got up quickly.
"Let's get this over with, I have paper work that needs to be done." And so here we are now on the boy's side is; Alphonse, Faust, Charlie, Finn, Seth, Jack, and Lucien. With the listeners having; Boo, Scout, Star, Casper, Sunflower, Buddy, and Angel. Auron and Rook were out because, Auron was the only one all of them were comfortable to have being the referee and Rook was automatically out to make the sides even.
"I want this over quickly so play fair, who ever crosses the line first is the loser. Wake the kids up 10 laps on the track, and now both sides ready?" Both sides held up the rope with determination in their eyes. Rook held up the flag waiting for Auron's mark "Ready....set....go!" The listener's were able to yank to rope a bit to their side but Lucien in the back of the boy's line anchored them down.
Grunts and quiet cursing on heard on both sides, along with shit talking of course. "Hey Boo, don't be mad when we win, ok?" He almost was yanked forward by Boo's pure spite, "How about you pull on that rope before I'll make you fall for me again, pretty boy." Rook giggled seeing the couple being competitive against each other. It was them that got the counselors in bets half of the time, like who can eat the most sandwiches. Lucien was happy with this one because he got to try making sandwiches that the kids might like.
Auron looked at Rook who was cheering silently for their friend's, maybe this wasn't so bad. The kisses he got to convince him weren't all that bad either, but he was getting bored quickly over this as neither side gave up the rope. But that changed when Alphonse told Big Red to pull harder, this caused the listeners to panic since Big was well, bigger and stronger than them. Angel trying to counter their partner pulled all their weight to Anchor everyone down.
Buddy and Sunflower started to do the same as they tried to pull the rope to them more. As the tug of war game was going on the ground was getting smashed more, and a pitter patter of rain started.
"Fuck." Alphonse said as he tried to focus on not slipping in the now forming mud at his feet. Rook giggled as they opened an umbrella "Poor guy didn't check the forecast, crazy that there was gonna be a bit of rain on this summers day huh, Auron?" Auron laughed a bit as he held them close and the umbrella as well.
"Hopefully this'll teach him a lesson to make make silly bets during the night." As he said this Alphonse slipped in the mud and Boo being a loving partner they are took this opportunity to yank hard on the rope as the other listeners did after them. The yank caused Red to fall on Seth, because Jack seeing the mountain of a man moved out the way. Causing all the other boys to fall forward.
"And the winners are...The listeners!" Auron said nonchalantly as he looked at Alphonse who was whipping mud off his face glaring at Boo. Faust was whinnying about the mud getting on his shirt from falling and Star rushed to help him, the others following after making sure their partners were okay. The only one okay with the mud on them was Finn, he had actually fallen in the mud earlier today during gardening time with his group.
After everyone got to their respectful cabins they all washed off and Auron told the boys "I want the bathrooms cleaned before the kids wake up, thank you." Rook followed him after to his office in his cabin with a giggle as they told everyone good night.
#yuurivoice#yuurivoice auron#yuurivoice alphonse#yuurivoice seth#yuurivoice charlie#yuurivoice faust#yuurivoice jack#yuurivoice lucien#yuurivoice finn#red writes#red answers#red rants
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i haven't been having the best time lately
#sorry vent incoming in tags. you dont have to read you really can skip this#/so the day before yesterday i had a major argument with mom. about something incredibly small but she got super mad at me (basically i#suggested she might have made a mistake while cleaning the oven bc when i turned it on i smelled and felt burning chemicals. like-#-teary eyes and sneezing i wasn't imagining it. and she got super mad and started yelling)#for the whole afternoon it was either silent treatment or yelling abt how what i said is 'unforgivable'#and ofc rejecting apologies and attempts to calm the situation down bc 'this isn't something you can just fix with an apology'#i literally just asked if she's sure everything went right with the oven cleaning. bc it was done in a rush.#so anyway at 10pm i HAD to get the situation to a manageable level bc i was starving and she was in the living room (we have an open kitchen#) so if i wanted to get sth to eat i'd have to confront her. so screaming match ensued again with me apologizing and explaining my point -#and her yelling over me. it went on for 40 minutes. finally after me apologizing like 70 times she calmed down but said that 'what i did is-#-unacceaptable and she does not give permission for it to happen again'. i went to sleep without getting anything to eat of course.#and this fucked me up. bc i really thought we were doing better. i really thought our relationship would only get better now esp after we -#-bonded on vacation. but turns out not. and shes still lowkey mad.#THEN yesterday im studying for a zoology exam and mention it on the phone with her#she goes 'who do you have zoology for'. i respond with the name of the teacher. confused.#'professor (x) died on friday.'#??????????#'it's not published anywhere yet so yeah YOU have to tell your class'#i had a panic attack legit. i threw up from stress. i couldnt do it. first off bc of shock and secondly bc how am i supposed tojust jump#into group chat like 'oh hey btw professor died'#thankfully the info was posted officially by uni at 10pm. so i didnt have to do it. but mom kept pressing me to the whole day#i was nauseaous all of yesterday bc of it. i couldnt manage to study anymore after the shock. sure he was older but he was so energetic and#seemed healthy. i wouldnt have expected it it was just. a huge shock. im still not over it#like you cant know someone for half a year then not be shaken when they suddenly die yknow. and mom is lowkey making fun of me like#'what were you emotionally attached??? he wasnt anyone close'#no he wasnt but im still shaken. and being mocked is only making it worse. as is having to keep studying for his subject for the next few-#-days.#sorry ok vent over theres just. a lot happening for me and im struggling i needed to let it out ig. theres just too much at once#vent#death mention
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How i sleep after coming back from my 12 hrs shift at work after just standing there not being able to hold a simple convo and not talking to anybody anyway nc no one there likes me 😍
#this one coworker lady got into a situation and basically she came back to us and started explaining what happened#some ukrainian dudes threatened her or smth idk#and i thought i was also part of the conversation since i was literally there as she talked#but when i asked a question so she could further explain the topic she got all mad LOL was like#'if youre not involved then just stay silent this doesnt concern you' ok?????????#and i was silent throught the rest of the shift#didnt know which things she talked abt were my business so 😇👍#ale mnie wkurwila stara pizda#porownala mnie do plotkary z tej samej pracy ktora zawsze chce wszytsko wiedziec xddd#mf powiedzialas ze adrian przylazl i niepotrzebnie glupie rzeczy gadal a ja sie zapytalam jakie rzeczy i niby nagle to nie moja sprawa?? xd#gadasz o czyms ktos zadaje ci pytanie zwiazane z tym co gadasz i nagle to ja jestem wscibska i ciekawska?? xdddd#pierdol sie#dobrze ze 2 dni i juz mnie tam wiecej nie zobacza#praca sama w sobie nie jest ciezka i moze byc fajnie ale te stare dziady co tam pracuja tak mnie wkurwiaja ze nie moge#w sensie ja rozumiem ze jestem nowa i wgl ale miloby bylo gdyby ktokolwiek mnie zauwazyl a nie udawal ze nie istnieje#z jedna tylko babeczka udalo mi sie porozmawiac milo i ponoc nikt jej tam nie lubi tez xdddddd#idk czuje ze cokolwiek nie zrobie gdziekolwiek nie bede zawsze bede outsiderem
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thank you guys for the help i know nobody’s awake anymore but i’m awake now again and the email is officially sent
#i’m nervous cause i’m not seeing philosophy club anywhere#and yes i am capable of learning and growing as a person and doing other stuff with my life#(when i told my dad yesterday that i was nervous he said i should see this as an opportunity…)#but i would rather prefer to be in my regular thing every thursday… also i kind of need this teacher#i’m trying to not skip class as much anymore (i kind of did a lot of that last trimester) so it’s not like i’ll just be always over there#but my mom gets home tomorrow and it’s making me nervous. things were getting pretty bad between my parents#and y’all understand there’s only one adult in the entire world who understands what it’s like at home? it was cool knowing him#anyway the real point of philosophy club is learning philosophy and seeing friends. and that’s why i want to do it and was excited for it#but the reason that i’m nervous about it not happening is because what if i just never have a place like that again#but!! the email is sent!! and if there’s no philosophy club there really isn’t anything i can do#i’ll just have to join newspaper and start going to silent reading and all of those things i could do#also getting help from teachers. that’s a big one. that’s what raider time is actually for. and i could use it#but on the other hand that half hour of every day is like. my only piece of free time cause i’m away from parents and not in class#so i tend to want to use it for self care and fun times. plus last year that meant i could stay after school to get help from teachers#thereby maximizing my away time even more!!!! which was pretty great and a good situation#so anyway idk but the point is i sent the email and it’s the morning now and i’m gonna plug in my phone#and a friend of mine is driving me today so idk when she is getting there#because yesterday it was a different friend but not today and i don’t remember this friends driving schedule#but anyway yeah. and yesterday was a bad first day but maybe today will be good#me. my post. mine.#delete later
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Bad idea: Age gap discourse but in a fantasy land where there's multiple races who have vastly different lifespans and life styles.
Is it wrong for a 27 year old human to date a 140 year old stone elf, considering most stone elves don't get out of diapers till their 30s?
Is it wrong for a 80 year old dwarf to date a two year old fire wisp, when fire wisps only live up to 5 years (between the eruptions) and have memories of their past lives, so in a way they're "born" at age 400,000+? That octogenarian dwarf is way younger than the fire wisp that's only physically younger than some of the socks the dwarf has!
Is it wrong for a chronomancer who was never born to date, well, anyone? They are zero years old and infinity years old and negative one hundred and seventeen years old all at once. They look like an old human, sure, with the long white beard and the wrinkly skin, but as far as anyone can tell, they've always looked like that. We've seen the cave paintings.
Is it wrong for a 30 year old lizardman (that's old in lizardman years) to date a human who is 60 years old in biological years (because of aging spells), 26 years old in lived-experience years, but only 13 years old in calendar years? (ie, they were born 13 years ago, but spent some of that time in sideways timelines, so they've lived more years than have passed in their home timeline?)
Is it wrong for a 12,000 year old dragon date a pile of 400 kobolds when kobolds only live like 10 years on average, but reach full maturity in one year? And if you disagree, can you do anything about it? You do know what happened to the last policeman who tried to arrest a dragon, right? Their city is still smoldering, 50 years later.
Is it wrong for anyone to date the time worm? It's the same age, every year. So the age gap can only intensify. If you start dating the time worm when you're both the same age, when do you break it off because you've become too much older than them?
And most confusing of all... What about the fairies? They could be anything between a thousand and a day old, they would lie about their age either way, and they can look like whatever they want. There's fairies we know for a fact have been around since the founding of The City of Towers, who met the silent mother herself, and also look like they're at most ten years old. Is it wrong to date them, or just really uncomfortable for everyone who sees it? And on the other side there's fairies who are "born" (hatched? They come from plants, I'm not sure what the verb even would be. Seeded? Sprouted, maybe) this week who are already appearing like middle-aged men and dancing with widows in what looks like a scheme to run off with her fortune but they never take the money, because what would a fairy want with worthless metal discs? Maybe fairies have a hive mind or genetic memory or reincarnation with full memories, they'd never tell you or give you a straight (or consistent) answer anyway.
Stonefolk are really the only inter-race dating situation anyone can agree on. They're unthinking & unmoving solid rock during the day, so those hours don't count. Thus their "real age" is a nice even half of their true age. So if you meet a stonefolk who was dug out 30 years ago, watch out: that's a 15 year old, and if you're a 25 year human, that's too young for you, even though their dig-date is five years before your birth-date.
EDIT: 2024/01/12: Changed the name of the Stonefolk
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𝝑𝑒 synopsis. tired of the continuous bullying you’re receiving from the other concubines, you finally decide to stand up for yourself. the tension dulls when lord sukuna breaks the fight up.
tags. true form!ryomen sukuna x concubine!reader. sfw - angst kinda, little suggestive. mentions of bullying. violence. fighting. vile language. reader gets referred to as a ‘bitch, slut, whore’ by the concubines. reader gets referred to as ‘brat, woman’ by sukuna. not beta read bcs im sleepy. @ohimsummer, thank you for the idea LOL
you’re tired. tired of being treated like less by the others in sukuna’s harem. they’re salty—jealous—because of the shameless favoritism sukuna shows. you’re his favorite, the one he can’t seem to get enough of.
that’s exactly why you’re on the floor right now. you’ve fallen to your knees after tripping over a concubine’s foot. you were passing by to go to your headquarters, though apparently such a mundane thing can’t happen in this place without some woman interfering in the worst way possible.
“oops,” the blonde one laughs as she sees you on the wooden floor. you’re covered in food and some. . . gooey beverage. you don’t know what it is, but it’s making everything feel uncomfortably sticky. your clothes, your fingers, your skin. it’s starting to itch.
“should’ve looked where you were going,” another girl chimes in. the brunette. she feigns pity and throws a handkerchief in your face, causing the other concubines to giggle. there are three of them in total. they always stick together to bully you.
the one with green eyes speaks up as well, “now now, don’t be so harsh to the poor slut! she’s got no brain to use after all.”
the other two laugh as you try your best to stay calm. you’re always telling yourself to be the bigger person in difficult situations. you’re clenching your hands into fists, your body basically trembling in anger. you want to swing. to show them that you’re worthy of respect.
“aww, she’s gonna cry,” the blonde one pouts—a mocking pout that gets on your nerves. the laughs sounding from the trio are like nails on a chalkboard. you want to make it stop. you’re tired of keeping it civil, when they have never tried doing the same.
your eyes land on the serving tray next to your hands. the one they emptied on your head ‘by accident’. you take a deep breath and try to remind yourself that it’s probably best to go wash up. they desperately want a reaction out of you and you refuse to give it to them.
despite it all, you’re mad. you’ve gone through enough of this. all because of sukuna’s favoritsm. all because you’re you.
they’re salty that they can never be you. you’ve seen their pathetic attempts to put you down yet simultaneously try and copy your entire existence. thinking that would somehow get them in your position as sukuna’s favorite.
you’re sick and tired of it. today’s the day you show them exactly that. you’re going to show those women that you can and will beat some sense into them.
“oy, dumb slut, answ—” the blonde is interupted before she could finish her sentence. a loud bang reverberates through the hallway and everyone falls silent.
she’s the one on the floor now instead of you. you’re up, the wooden tray in your hands, the one you just used to smack the life out of her. she’s whimpering and holding her red cheek. a nasty bruise is sure to form on her skin; deserved.
“i’ll answer you, alright,” you mumble under your breath. you’re panting as the adrenaline keeps pumping. you stand over her and lift up the serving platter in the air once more—bringing it down over and over against her head, which she’s trying to shield with her hands.
the other two concubines are frozen in pure shock. you’re not thinking anymore. you’re on autopilot. the woman’s yelps and screeches are music to your ears. “hah. you sound as ugly as you look,” you spit on her, watching the blood trickle down the corner of her mouth. you lift your arms up to bring the wooden platter down on her body again, but you’re stopped.
the green eyed concubine had moved first. she grabs your wrists with one hand and smacks you across the face with the other. “have you lost your mind?!” she yells and raises her hand to slap you again. the disrespect you’re showing clearly was not expected nor is it welcomed.
“don’t you fucking touch me,” you kiss your teeth. you’re glaring at her with pure hatred. you push and slap her right back. you’re sure the blonde won’t be up for a while now—she’s done for.
you don’t know if you went a bit overboard with it, considering she’s barely conscious anymore, but you couldn’t care less at the moment.
you’re surprised when the third concubine yanks your hair. “oh, you little bitch!” the brunette grabs a bunch of your hair with both hands and tugs at it to drag you down on the floor. you wince in pain but quickly pull at her own brown locks. you struggle to keep your balance and your scalp aches.
you hate it when women go for your hair when fighting, though luckily you know your way out of it. you take a deep breath and bring her head down, lifting your left leg up at the same time. her forehead comes crashing down on your knee and she loosens her grip on your hair.
“disgusting,” you huff and take the opportunity to push her fragile body aside, making her trip over the blonde girl on the floor. you can’t help but think that your current state is quite similar to a certain someone.
the violence. the seething anger. you’ve seen this scene way too many times before. you’ve learnt it from him.
your thoughts are interrupted by someone pulling the back of your hair, causing you to stumble backwards. “a whore like you needs to be taught some manners,” the green eyed concubine sniffs and keeps a tight grip on your hair. she delivers a few punches to your face, which you actually struggle to block for a second.
the force hitting your nose makes it bleed. that only angers you further. you gather some saliva in your mouth before spitting it out right in the girl’s eyes. you take your chance and grab her hair, smashing her head against the nearby fusuma. the thin plaster the sliding doors are made out of breaks, and she falls right through into the other room.
“i think you all need to be taught how to act,” you pant and wipe the blood dripping down your chin with the back of your hand. you walk through the opening you made in the frail door, kicking the concubine right in the face as revenge for the nosebleed she gave you.
you crouch down, your fingers tangling into her hair. you yank her head up and stare her right in the eyes. there’s an eerie, dark look in yours. “why can’t you just accept that you’re nothing but trash in your lord’s eyes?” you sneer. you are pitying them instead of the other way around, like how it usually would be.
and they despise it.
“you fucking—” “bitch? slut? whore?” you finish her sentence for her with an exasperated sigh. you’ve heard those insults a thousand times before. it’s nothing new. it’s always the same nasty and repetitive comments. you slap the concubine in front of you again for good measure before standing up, “you should come up with something new. it’s getting boring.”
you walk over to the other two, who are still recovering. you add to your last comment with a shrug, trying to hit them where it hurts, “your repetitiveness explains why lord sukuna rarely calls for you at night. i bet your severe lack of creativity shows even in bed.”
“you’re just a boring and hopeless bunch,” you’re out for blood. the blonde and brunette are looking up at you with fear and the sight excites you for some reason. they’re crawling away, trying to go find someone who would save them. the servants are nowhere to be found. nor is uraume, who usually stops the petty arguments.
they’re terrified by how you’re acting right now. they’re clearly seeing sukuna in you. in your eyes and the aura you’re emitting.
you’re mirroring him, his merciless personality and all included. he’s subconsciously taking over your mind and it’s terrifying them.
your steps are heavy as you walk towards the concubines. you don’t pay attention to the blood trickling down your chin, nor do you care about the ache in your scalp from the earlier hair pulling. all you care about is getting revenge for yourself.
you could complain to sukuna and have him punish them in your place, but that wouldn’t be enough. you’re going to make sure that they don’t try you again any time soon. you grab the blonde by her arm, lifting your fist to punch her—
“oi, brat.”
your eyes widen and you snap out of your mad daze. sukuna’s voice shakes the floors with how loud it is. you whip your head to the side and see his tall figure standing at the end of the hallway—uraume being right behind him. it looks like they were the one that rushed to inform sukuna of the ruckus.
you drop the other concubine and look at the mess. the broken fusuma. the blood splatter on the wooden flooring. your disheveled hair and clothes. your bleeding nose. the crimson stained plate and spilt food that got everywhere.
it’s a complete mess.
sukuna doesn’t utter a word. he just glares right at you. you’re not sure if it’s because of your irresponsible behaviour or the mess you created. or both. he marches over to you and grabs you by the back of your collar with one big hand.
“m-my lord,” you whimper, nearly choking as you’re held up in the air like you weigh nothing, like one would do to a cat’s nape. one of sukuna’s hands keeps you up whilst the others hang limply by his side. his red eyes scan your body, moving up and then back down.
you don’t know what to say. you surely have overstepped a boundary - or multiple - with what you’ve done today. you’ve disturbed the peace in the estate and have caused damage to sukuna’s property. both to his women and the interior of his palace.
you cough up a bit of blood that was stuck in the back of your throat. you’re uncertain of how you should explain yourself. “i’m sorry, my lord. i didn’t know what came over me,” you apologise and look down at the floor below your feet. you’re too embarrassed to look the king of curses in the eyes.
sukuna stays silent. it’s nerve wracking since you have no idea what he’ll do in response to your outburst. his facial expression is blank, so you aren’t able to guess what’s going on in his head. it’s a complete mystery.
however, the tall man is secretly more amused than anything. what you’ve just done, is one of the most interesting things he has seen a human do. sukuna witnessed everything from the beginning to the end and thoroughly enjoyed it. from the way you used that serving plate as a weapon to the way you managed to get out of those concubines’ grasps each time.
it’s strange to sukuna; he felt something when he saw you in action like that.
pride? perhaps that’s it. sukuna can’t pinpoint the exact emotion, though if he were to describe it, the closest word would be indeed pride. he is proud to have discovered and witnessed that untamed side of yours. you’re always full of pleasant surprises that keep even a dangerous curse like him on his toes.
it’s why he will never get bored of you. he wishes to unleash your full potential one day.
sukuna finally breaks the silence with an amused snicker. one of his hands move to wipe the blood from your nose. you cringe when he slowly licks the red liquid from his fingers afterwards—clearly ravishing the metallic taste.
“y’ finally did something, huh?” sukuna grins wickedly. he knows of the harassment you’ve been going through and he couldn’t wait to see you snap like this one day.
it’s sickening that he allows the bullying to continue just for the sake of creating drama, but it’s also worth it to him, since he’s got to unlock a side of you he knew you had buried deep inside. sukuna is a selfish bastard. you know that much, yet you like it when he looks at you with a prideful gaze and grin.
it’s so obvious that sukuna took pleasure in what he’s witnessed. he couldn’t believe how much you actually resembled him in a way.
if he were to be honest: it turned him on like crazy. seeing how you fought back against those women and how nearly deranged you became. the degrading words you spewed. . . sukuna cannot get enough of it. if it were up to him, he’d have let you continue. but for your own sake, he decided against it.
as much as he loves that untamed side of yours, sukuna knew that he couldn’t let you go too far. not because he wants to defend those other women, but because he still needs you to stay sane. going down that path of violence surely will do you more damage than good.
he’ll fully corrupt you - your body and mind - one day. just not today.
sukuna lets you back on your feet after you nearly fail to breathe. he cocks his head to the side, still having a menacing smirk on his face. he roughly pinches your cheek, “it was entertaining, i’ll give you that, woman.”
you wince as sukuna pinches the exact cheek you had a bruise on. he’s never done so before, therefore you don’t have a clue about the meaning behind that gesture. though the compliment told you that he was pleased by the ruckus more than he was annoyed by it.
sukuna still hasn’t bat an eye to the other concubines. they are waiting for their lord to punish you for hurting them, but it all seems to be in vain. they know better than to speak up about that to him. they’re easily replaceable. they know that by now. it’s as clear as day.
you’ve drilled that into their head today.
the king of curses pushes your small body towards uraume and you nearly bump against their chest with how easily he moved you around. uraume catches you in time and helps you stand straight, awaiting their master’s orders.
sukuna checks you out one more time in that disheveled state, before you go back to your formal and reserved self. his interest in you has been piqued by today’s events and he wonders when he can experience that side of yours again. he nods at uraume, “make sure she’s properly taken care of.”
uraume doesn’t waste a single second after being given an order. “understood,” they reply curtly and keep you steady so you could walk with them towards the physician’s quarters.
you look up at sukuna, trying to catch a glimpse of him before you’re taken away. he’s staring right back at you, the corners of his lips twitching into another subtle grin. he’s surprisingly pleased and content with your actions.
however it’s also not so surprising, considering that he loves it when you show any hint of resistance or stubbornness. whether it’d be to him or to his concubines.
sukuna’s facial expression turns cold the moment you’re gone and he’s left with the mess. “she took the words right out of my mouth,” he stares down at the three women on the floor who’re still unable to stand. he’s not helping them up—that’s their own problem, “y’re a pathetic bunch.”
the concubines flinch as they hear the inevitable from their own lord. hearing it from you was frustrating, but hearing it directly from the man that’s taken them in is heartbreaking. they don’t dare look up at him in such pitiful states.
“all three of you,” sukuna addresses them sharply. his arms cross over his chest, a ruthless tone to his voice. the concubines tremble in his presence, though it’s partially still because of the fear you’ve implemented in their systems.
he would’ve killed them off right then and there, though you’ve done enough damage to them both physically and mentally for now.
sukuna however, still couldn’t care less about their wellbeing. their wounds and bruises are something they’ll need to fix on their own.
he points at the floor and broken door with his head before turning around to leave the miserable trio. sukuna leaves them with an order that’s usually left to the servants;
“clean up the damn mess you caused. it better be taken care of before i return. ‘nd i don’t wanna hear a single squeak from any of you about this.”
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#sukuna x reader#jjk x you#sukuna x you#jjk x y/n#sukuna x y/n#ryomen sukuna x reader#jjk angst#sukuna angst#bye this is also a crack fic to me
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Yandere! House Monster x Reader (II)
It’s officially a smutty sitcom: you, the oblivious gamer boyfriend, and the tentacle monster lurking in dark corners.
[First part]
Content: gender neutral reader, monster smut
Do monsters have a sense of humor? This creature seems to be greatly amused by the little "game" you've devised behind your boyfriend's back. Although you don't have much input in the affair, and most of the time you're merely a witness to the events unfolding before you (or in you).
First, there's the mild, inoffensive annoyances. "Babe, did you see my controller? I swear I left it on the couch". Some pranks are harder to swallow than others, such as the occasional lack of Internet. You know exactly when it happens, because you can hear your boyfriend's enraged shouts and rattles. It's always during important matches. No one knows why it happens. The repairmen who cross your threshold can only scratch their heads in confusion, confessing that nothing is out of the ordinary.
Then, the unfortunate coincidences. "How about we have some fun after my game?", the boyfriend will suggest with an anticipative grin. Alas, moments after he stands up, he is overwhelmed by a nauseous feeling. His stomach twirls and throbs, and he curses under his breath. "Some other time, perhaps", he concludes begrudgingly. You see, the creature is very possessive. The only thing that has saved your beloved partner from being torn to shreds already is his crassly comical obliviousness.
The mischief aimed towards the boyfriend is, however, a secondary source of entertainment. Nothing could ever come close to spending time with you. Yet another irony to this ridiculous situation: you haven't been caught yet, despite the rabid clinginess of the tentacled monster.
It just loves surprising you. For example, when you exhale dramatically at the end of the day, relaxing in the bathtub and enjoying your peace. Just as you hear an impatient knock on the door, you notice a familiar dark tendril slithering its way out of the water. You won't be leaving the bathroom anytime soon. "Did you steam yourself over there? You look like a lobster", the boyfriend will remark with a raised eyebrow upon seeing your panting, feverish face. "Y-yeah, I guess so." You limp outside, struggling to hold the towel around your body. Or more specifically, around the many marks left on your skin by hundreds of suckers.
In fact, its shamelessness reminds you of a poorly written erotic scenario, the likes you'd see on some adult website with a clickbait title. How would you name this current setup? You grip the edge of the table, pursing your lips to prevent any moans escaping your mouth. Your boyfriend is, once again, scrolling on his phone, indifferent to your presence. The water boiling on the stove drowns the wet, slippery sounds of the appendages pumping in and out of you underneath the table. “You might want to give it a stir in a moment, or it’ll overflow”, the boyfriend remarks without lifting his gaze. You mumble in agreement, slapping a hand over your mouth. You’re at your limit.
One may be tempted to ask, is this entity bound to its house? You pondered the same question until your recent IKEA visit. You and your boyfriend had been looking for a new wardrobe. "What do you think of this one?", you asked, closing the door and turning around. Your eyes scanned the empty model-bedroom. The jackass had wandered ahead without you. You sighed and were about to go find him, when a cold grip suddenly tightened around your wrist. You winced and snapped your head back. Thick tendrils had made their way out of the closet, tugging you to join them inside. So it can follow you around, you thought, climbing into the cramped space. Between the silent whines and breathy begging, an idea emerges from your dazed mind. New hypothetical video title: mercilessly molested in the IKEA store by monster partner.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#yandere x you#yandere monster#yandere monster x reader#yandere headcanons#yandere scenarios#yandere imagines#monster x reader#monster x human#monster boyfriend#tentacle monster#monster smut#terato#teratophillia#monster fucker
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