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#this man shouldn't even still be alive
black-suns-rim · 2 years
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I just realized I didn't tell you guys about Peepa Roach :0
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I made an Elder yautja oc and his name is Peepa Roach, or just Peepa (the little kids give him the name peepa roach cause he's so short). Peepa is sooooo old that not even his own clan knows how old he is.
Peepa is slightly deaf and blind as a bat, so he'll be yelling at walls and objects, thinking he's talking to someone. He likes causing trouble for his own entertainment. Mf can get into dangerous situations and come out unscathed while the people who "rescue" him just come out all hurt lmao.
He has to be supervised 24/7 so he doesn't start trouble. He mistakes every young yautja as his grandchild or grandchildren. His memory isn't that great but he has a lot of stories about him torturing his enemies when he was younger.
He walks with a staff or cane and his posture isn't that great so he's always complaining about his back. Peepa is seen as a "crazy old man" because he likes talking about this supposed pet he has but no one has seen it, yet he insists his pet is just shy and doesn't like everyone.
He will stop breathing in his sleep, making people think he's dead, but he'll start breathing again and scare the shit out of everyone. He's just a menace to his clan and some are betting on dates when he'll die or how he'll die XD
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summertimemusician · 6 months
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*downs coffee like a shot* Before we go back to our regularly scheduled Linktober/Linktober Shadow (because I don't leave things unfinished if I can help it), I gotta get the idea of Revenant First out of my system and y'all get to suffer with me until it eventually ceases being an idea and it turns into an actual story. For some reason we talk a lot about First already being alive or already a ghost by the time the Chain meets him, but I don't think I've ever heard someone talk about him actually coming back to life and so y'all get to suffer with my insane ramblings like I'm an 1800's psychic ward patient who believes themselves to be a witch.
Can be x Reader or not idk just an idea that won't leave my mind.
Might expand on this later so Part out of I/?
Revenant First, who died for his people and in the name of his Goddess. All alone on the surface, fighting, fighting, fighting, always fighting. Just to make the land a little safer before the next hero arrives, just to contain the Imprisoned for a little while longer with likely nothing than a ordinary, common sword to his name and a slowly rusting armor.
Always giving so so so much for his people, always doing his best to protect them, though they scorned him, loathed him, didn't believe or support him, rejected him.
With a spirit so strong and lovely that a Goddess fell for him, hated herself for having to manipulate and put him through such horrid experiences just to save the many, just to turn the diamond of his soul into an unbreakable lonsdaleite blade agaisnt a mad deity.
Someone whose will would be enough to keep him going, just one more fight right? Just one more kill right? Forward, forward, ever onward, it doesn't matter if the flesh decays, if the blood drips drips drips until he is dry of it, if the liver doesn't process nutrients, if the lungs don't draw air, if the nerves feel nothing but the cold cold numbness of the winter of his final years, if the heart doesn't beat. If the armor rusts or the sword breaks. He must keep going, he must keep fighting.
To keep them safe he must have faith, faith that he can keep going, to grasp onto that one.single.thread of purpose until the day that fiery, indomitable, determined will finally burns out. Even if his Goddess may have forsaken him knowingly or unknowingly, even if his people have rejected him to the point he isn't even human anymore, even though they reviled him, even if that rejection should by all intents and purposes chained his spirit to the land or ground the jewel of his unbreakable soul into dust, he still loves them, still adores them, still wants to protect them.
No matter how long he must keep going for it. He wishes to see those he holds dear happy, though they cursed and imprisoned him once.
The Chain getting dropped into a completely empty, desolated and undeniably dead version of Sky's Hyrule, only to find the only living thing besides monster is a single man, with rusted gold armor and an old sword, a faded tunic of green with a long, crimson scarf like a bloody banner. With hair and eyes like theirs, undeniably a Link. But so very frigid, so very silent they almost didn't notice him, that they can't help but wonder just how many years he has spent there, eroding away, ruined but still kind, kind, so very gentle. A shadow of his former self, yes, but still himself, still so so so good, doing all he can until Sky's Era comes and maybe, just maybe, he can finally rest.
Or maybe not, after all, someone has to keep the land safe until the Hero after Sky comes around, no?
Just Revenant First in general.
Or maybe we give him the House in Fata Morgana treatment, the House in Fata Hylia Au if you will- *collapses from sleep deprivation*
#linked universe headcanons#lu first#lu fic idea#Revenant First#lu first x reader#maybe? it's mostly just an idea lol#might expand on this later lol#Also knows as what happens when Summer is sleep deprived while doing essays takes a break by listening to The House in Fata Morgana OST#and suddenly gets First in the brain lol#still have way too much First Hero on the brain that man deserves the world but at the same time I want to put him into Situations lol#Feral Revenant First being protective of the Chain my beloved#Sky being so confused because Fi at the same time recognizes the man and has just started lowkey crying and screaming in chimes#Twi Wind Hyrule and Time not knowing wether to be morbidly intrigued or horrified because he registers as both dead and alive to them#Meanwhile First is just chilling#doing his own thing and probably bonding with Wild over 'Being Dead but Got Better'#Probably doesn't even register he shouldn't be moving anymore after taking a stab to the heart or something lol#if we want to make an X Reader kind of thing then it's literally his love for Reader which also allows him to keep going#alongside sheer force of will and determination#Michel and Giselle vibes ya know? lol#Wait would that make Hylia Morgana? Or could it be Demise or something? Eh#I dunno might expand on that later/write out that Au later on as a self indulgent thing#Anyway for now ya'll get this until I am finally not swamped with literature/language essays and fistfighting sleep deprivation#Summer Writes#Summer Writes Linked Universe Headcanons#Summer's Sleep Deprived Headcanons
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radiance1 · 4 months
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So, Danny was effectively homeless.
His parents are dead, his sister is dead, his friends are dead. Hell, even Vlad, Vlad kicked the fucking bucket which, Danny genuinely never expected.
Vlad was supposed to be his nemesis, his main bad guy, the guy Danny's supposed to constantly pull everything out against just to win. Not to mention how significant his presence was.
A part of him assumed that Vlad would always be there and him not being there and knowing he won't be there ever again is... weird.
So you're probably asking, how exactly did this happen?
Well you see, the nasty burger exploded, for one thing. Then when he was under Vlad's care both of them got outed for being ghosts to the GIW, which was technically Danny's fault, since he did something extremely stupid.
Somehow they got caught, and life under the GIW was not great in the slightest. The constant experiments, the dehumanization (Sometimes Danny doesn't even register himself as human), the amount of times their feelings were utterly disregarded, and so, so much more.
The GIW found Vlad to be more dangerous than Danny, even if he lacked the raw power Danny had his intellect made him dangerous and for good reason. For it was because of said intellect that Danny managed to escape.
Vlad didn't manage to do the same.
Danny hated reliving that memory. Because Vlad was a villain, evil and self-serving, he shouldn't be sacrificing himself for his literal greatest enemy to escape in his stead (Not that Vlad would say Danny was his greatest, he would probably say it was the person who refused him to buy the packers). It was just, so utterly stupid and out of character for him.
So, Danny managed to escape, Vlad died. He couldn't even say anything about Dani because she got destabilized in front of him, in front of both of them actually. It hurt to watch and, he didn't quite know the specifics between Dani and Vlad anymore, but he thinks they were getting... better.
Not how it was when Dani was first created, but Vlad was working on mending it. Which, honestly, just makes everything worse.
Danny isn't powerless but it's a damn close thing. He's far weaker than he normally would be, and he's injured on top of that too boot, his powers can barely work and it's just so stupid.
So here he was, hiding out in some random sewer because he didn't want to take the risk of being on the surface and he hates the smell, but he'll take that over being experimented on again. So, Danny spends most of his time in the sewers of this place called Gotham, he even managed to make his own little area with a couch he stole and a few other appliances that were thrown out.
He lacked a Tv or laptop, but he found a yo-yo! Most of his time was spent practicing various tricks with his yo-yo.
It got boring fast. But it was really the only safe thing he could do when waiting for his powers to come back. At least he's a god at yo-yoing now.
It was while doing various tricks with it in some random sewer path, that a literal, goddamn crocodile-man just splashed up from sewer water and half-laid on the edge, since his lower body was still in the water.
Danny looked at his yo-yo, the crocodile, and then slowly stepped on over and gently poked the crocodile dude.
He made a sound, so he was alive!
Finally! Someone to appreciate his godly yo-yoing skills!
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sanguineterrain · 3 months
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Jason is definitely the type to go feral over his best friend he hasn't seen in years. Hear me out: he's alive again, and not only that, but he's huge. Strong. People are afraid of him. So the reader is in town, walking the streets, and they meet again, maybe when he protects them as Hood. And reader is ecstatic to see Jason again of course and he's the same but also, all he can think is minemineminemine and I WANT YOU. mans is down horrendous for his sweet best friend that he missed and he's been in love with them for so long and now that he has them, he's not giving them up
idk if this was a prompt but i got inspired <3 thanks for stopping by anon
jason todd x gn!reader. feral jason i guess, but really soft jason. jason who yearns to be yours. jason who'd do anything for it, even if it meant one sided devotion... and also, jason who is loved by you. 1.2k words
****
"I don't understand why you can't come to my apartment."
"I told you why." Jason's posture is rigid but his tone is gentle. Because he has told you why he won't enter your home. Multiple times. Doesn't mean you don't challenge it every time you meet him on a random rooftop.
"It would be fine, Jay," you say. "I trust you."
"I know. But I don't trust everybody else," he says, words crackling through his modulator. That had frightened you at first; in fact, everything about a newly-resurrected Jason Todd had frightened you. From his height to the guns, you'd been sure that night in Gotham would be your last.
But then it had become clear that cheated death aside, nothing could kill his heart.
"You haven't visited in a while," you say.
You don't mean for it to sound accusatory.
"I know," Jason says. "Been busy. The Bats..."
And you knew. You knew the second you found out that Jason was alive that it would be like this, that he wouldn't be completely yours. He wasn't yours when he was Robin either, perhaps even less so.
And what's wrong with that? You have no right to ask him to be yours. To give you more.
But the recent distance has frightened you. Maybe it's for safety's sake, but your selfish heart wishes that he'd drop that for once.
Then again, there's always that dread in your stomach that perhaps Jason Todd doesn't love you the way you love him. And perhaps he never will.
"Well, I wish you'd call," you say.
This is wrong. You shouldn't be picking fights. Jason doesn't go dark out of cruelty, only necessity.
Jason sighs. "I can't. 'M sorry."
You cross your arms. It's chilly tonight.
"Do you even want to see me?"
He tilts his head. Dangerous.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't want to intrude," you say. "You're busy and all the stuff with B, I don't—I mean, I wouldn't hold it against you if you—"
Jason takes two long strides and closes the distance. You swallow the rest of your sentence as he backs you up against the brick exterior of an abandoned apartment. Your heart picks up. You're not afraid; the fear went long ago. You're just... something. You're something about Jason.
The last time you two hugged was after Willis' death. You'd wanted to wrap him in his cape, thought maybe that would make everything feel as small as he'd been.
Now, a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier, Jason clearly does not need a cape. Right?
He takes off his helmet, lets it hang on his hand. His other hand is by your head. You lean back, let your neck go on display. Jason doesn't miss the movement.
"What're you doing, Jay?" you ask levelly.
Maybe he thinks you don't notice this distance but you do. You don't want to push him to talk about it, because as upsetting as it is, you're still strangers to each other.
You are and you're not. He died and he didn't. You grieved and you didn't. You burn and... you burn.
But you're tired of being and not being. You won't let him keep you in emotional purgatory. If he's done with you, he should just say so.
"If you don't want to meet anymore," you start, and let the words hang in the air.
"I—" he starts, then swallows. He tosses his helmet to the side. He doesn't touch you, just hovers inches away. Jason smells like lilac and gun smoke.
"I don't think you understand... my devotion," he says, voice low. "How much power you have over me."
Your eyes widen. "Wh—"
His green eyes reflect the streetlight like a cat's. The sight stops you short. Jason Todd is hot metal on a knife's edge, and it would do you well to remember that.
His hands curl into fists. He shakes his head.
"Sorry," he whispers like a prayer. "Not tryna scare you." His chest rises and falls rapidly. "'M I scarin' ya, sweetheart? Tell me and I'll go home, shake it off. Wait forever. I can be good. Won't want what I don't deserve."
"I'm not scared," you say, and it's the most sure you've ever been. "Not scared of you, Jay."
He breathes a laugh, like he can't quite believe you. His breath is warm on your neck.
"You'd be the first," he says. "The only one."
This, you believe. This, you have wondered some nights, knowing that even Batman isn't sure what to do with a son who lives with death on his shoulder.
"You don't have to devote yourself to me," you say, because that makes you pause. Who are you to be his god?
Jason laughs again, strong and sure. He sinks to his knees in front of you. His white streak glows in the light.
"You think it's a vice?" he asks. He rests a hand on your left thigh, testing. You lay your hand over his, so he holds your other thigh too.
He hums. "You do. You think you're holdin' me hostage."
Jason takes a shuddering breath and flattens his palms over your legs. Then he leans in and rests his cheek on your leg, nose near the apex of your thighs. Your belly flips.
"Let's make one thing clear. My devotion is my only redemption. 'S the only thing that makes me believe I'm not all rotted inside. Makes me behave. In this world and the next, I'm yours."
"I... Jason, you belong to yourself, not me. I don't—"
"You don't have to do anything. If it's too much, then I'll disappear. You can carry on."
You stroke the exposed side of his face. He looks up at you.
He is still. You have made him still.
"I'm yours too," you say.
He shakes his head. "You don't hafta—"
"Do you think being yours is a curse?" you ask, gaze sharp.
"Don't promise something for balance's sake," he rasps. "I'll be yours without you being mine."
Your heart is still. He has made it still.
"I'll keep coming back," Jason whispers, eyes wide. "If you're mine, I can't leave. Y'don't know what you're doing. Don't give yourself to me."
"I do. I'm yours."
His grip tightens around your legs. Jason shakes his head.
"Don't do it," he says into your thigh. "I shouldn't have anyone. I'm-I'm only meant to be yours. Nobody's mine."
But you know. You can slide your finger along his teeth and he'll wait with his mouth open. You can touch his edges and he'll turn his cheek so you won't nick your finger. He would sooner chew his own tongue.
"It's alright," you say, and kneel. You dirty your knees right alongside him. "It's okay, Jason. I know what I'm doing."
His breath hitches. Jason presses you into the brick, tucks his face into your neck. His arms wrap tightly around your waist.
"Sorry," he whispers frantically. "'M sorry. You can push me away. Sorry."
"I won't do that." You hold him and let him take you. "I know you're good. I thought—I thought you were pulling away, and I..."
"I was," he admits, muffled in your skin. "'M sorry. Was the only way I could think of to let you go. You deserve better. Couldn't think 'round you, honeylove. Knew it was a death sentence when I found out that you still lived in Gotham."
"It wasn't," you say. "Best thing that's ever happened to me."
Jason huffs. "You say that now, but..."
"No. I say it now and I'll say it again. Keep me, Jason. I'll keep you too."
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nezuscribe · 6 months
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toji x reader (mdni, 18+)
your parents set you up to marry some snobby rich guy when all you want is toji (toji is uncharacteristically soft in this get over it)
“toji! toji, would you please open the door!" your fist pounded on the red chipped paint, sopping wet as the rain pelted down your face, mixing with some of your tears as you shivered in your thin shirt, clearly not dressed for the occasion.
you didn't know if he was home or not, but you were desperately hoping that he was.
you knew it was wrong coming back to this place, especially since the last time you saw him you told him to never look at you again, but you didn't know anywhere else to go in this town.
the field around you moved violently with the winds, and the porch light was still off. his old mustang was parked outside, so you knew he had to be in there, somewhere.
"toji, please, i'm freezing and it's dark!"
you were sure that if he didn’t open up you’d have to make some room in the little shed he had in the front because there was no way you’d be driving home alive with the rain about to come, but before you went plotting about how to fashion a tarp into a blanket, the door swung open.
the first thing you noticed was that he didn’t seem too pleased to see you, his eyes blazing into a glare, brows furrowed down the middle as the two of you just looked at each other.
it had been weeks since you had last seen him, and if you didn’t know any better, the dark circles under his eyes might have mirrored yours.
you longed to kiss it.
"why are-" he couldn't finish his sentence as you hurled yourself into his chest, your arms gripping onto him as he stumbled back inside.
you never would have thought that you’d miss the faint smell of smoke, or the whiskey lingering around his lips, but you hoped that it would never leave your memory.
sobbing as you clung onto him tightly, you had no idea what expression had taken over his face. was he angry or shocked? you knew you were getting his shirt wet, your fingers gripping onto his back as he stayed quiet, the only thing filling the vacant room being your wet sniffles.
slowly, you felt him move around a bit, giving in as he pulled you deeper into his chest. he patted your back as he shut the door behind you, eyes darting over your figure to make sure everything was okay.
"you okay?"
you shook your head, still hiding in his chest, and he nodded. he knew that much, but at least you had the vicinity to reply. he was worried that you had been petrified.
"want some tea?'
you shook your head again, still clinging onto him, perhaps even tighter than before.
he took in a sharp breath, not knowing what to do with you. it had been weeks since he last saw you, although, in a much different state.
"sweetheart," he muttered lifting your chin up with his thumb so he could see your face, the air knocking out of his lungs as he was once reminded of just how beautiful you are, even with tear tracks down your cheeks, "you 'gotta talk to me."
you sniffled, your lashes fluttering up and down as you fell back on his chest, your cheeks smushed in and your breaths came out in heaves.
"daddy set me up with him," you finally said, voice coming out muffled, "the wedding's in december."
his grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you in impossibly closer to him.
toji had been your "summer fling", or so your parents liked to call him. your parents had bought a summer home a couple of years ago and so every year since then, for a couple of months, you and your family would stay in this little town.
this year shouldn't have been different from the last one. in fact, the first couple of weeks there are fine. you easily find some people within your parent's circle, but it wasn't fun yet, it wasn't summer.
that is until you bump into a man who's friends with your friend's boyfriend (he was also third-wheeling with you on their date).
he's tall and brooding and most definitely wouldn't have looked your way if not for the predicament you were in. he gave the aura that he hated old money and you along with it, but for some reason, the scar on his lip twitched into a tiny smile as you kept up with his humor with witty remarks.
weeks following that were filled with him chasing after you as you giggled uncontrollably, not used to the giddy feeling that filled your chest whenever he tackled you down, holding you close to his chest as he littered kissed all over your face.
you knew it was wrong, at least by your parent's standards, but you didn't care all that much. you liked the dirt under his nails and the gruffness in his voice, it was so different from the guys you grew up with.
and despite his outward appearance he was so sweet. he may not have shown it much, but he held you close to him, attached by the waist as he whispered lame jokes in your ear and bought you caramel apples whenever you craved them.
it could have been puppy love but deep down you knew it wasn't. his lips lingered far too long for puppy love
and when your parents found out they were livid. it was a complete disgrace for somebody with the likes of you to be fooling around with somebody from the likes of him, and it only took a few meetings with your parents and a few arguments that left you in tears in him seething before you broke it off, promising that if you ever saw him again you'd shave his head.
but here you were, and his head was still full of hair.
"what's his name?" he asked, his voice gruff, and heavy as you looked up, wiping your nose again as you blinked.
"um," you racked your mind for a few hours ago, the screaming match you had with your parents fresh in your head as you gnawed on your lip, "satoru...something, i don't remember."
his eyes darkened, wiping the tears off of your face as he sucked in a breath through his teeth.
"your folks know that you're here?" his voice grew gentle, trying to keep it together for your sake, and you shook your head once again. you felt another wave of tears coming, and it took a lot of composure to not break down.
"no, i told them to go to hell. m-maybe they'll go searching there first," you murmur, a little grin making its way onto his face as he leads you through his home, the comfy sight making you feel at ease.
you found yourself on his couch, the same one from a few weeks ago, the same one where he...
"i'll go get you some clothes-" but you stopped him from leaving, tugging on his shirt to keep him in place.
"stay," you say, and he had no fight in him to deny you of your request. not with the way you looked at him. never when it came to you.
he gives you a tight nod, sitting across from you, careful not to be too close as he glances at the clock. it's late, and with the way the rain is pouring outside he'd be damned if he let you go back home in this weather. he'd rather take the claims of being sued by your father and let you sleep here than have you leave.
you look at your hands clasped in your lap, not saying anything about his distance, but feeling it tenfold when he sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tries to grapple with this situation.
"we're leaving two days from now," you say hurriedly, glancing at him quickly and then back to the ground, not knowing what else to do.
his eyes squint, brows crease down the middle at your words. he felt his chest grow heavy, and he can't remember the last time somebody had this sort of effect on him.
"thought you were leaving in a month?"
you shake your head, wiping at your eyes as you sniffle.
"my parents wanted me to meet...him."
his tongue pokes at his cheek, and he wants a scotch right now. fuck it, he'll take some vodka if he had any, but he finished the little bit remaining after the last fight the two of you had.
"i didn't mean what i said," you sputter out again, your eyes darting to his as you shift on his couch, "i don't hate you toji, i don't hate you at all. i was mad, 'nd i was mad at my parents and at you for what they told'ya to say, but i'm not mad at you, i love you, and i want to-" he doesn't let you finish, moving the two quick steps that separated the two of you as his face leans down to yours, his lips cutting you off.
you squeal a bit in surprise, clutching onto his shirt as he sets himself down, moving you with his own strength onto his lap as he never disconnects from you.
the two of you were basically feverish, feeling as though if you stopped for a second the world would stop spinning and you'd be forced to find each other again.
your spit mixed with his, your tears staining his cheeks as he huffed against your lips, his tongue fighting yours as he pushed his way into your mouth, his fingers wrinkling the expensive fabric of the dress that was splayed over your legs.
your fingers clutched and grasped at his hair, loving how it felt between you. you tugged, knowing he liked the sting, and knowing you liked the small gasp that escaped his throat when you'd do so.
"l-love you," you pant, pulling away to catch your breath as he follows you upward, spit connecting the two of you together as your eyes water again, "i love you toji," your words have a hold on him, something he's never experienced before.
for your entire life, you've wanted to be full of love. you've wanted a love that you've read in classic literature and seen in old hollywood movies. you wanted to be so full of love that you emptied yourself, waiting around for your prince charming. and when you met toji, he poured out his heart, giving you everything that he had. nobody else was toji, and nobody else could love you the way that he did.
"love you too, sweetheart," he whispers, and the words are heavy on his tongue, something he never said before he met you. he's not used to this, and he's not sure he will be. but he's sure that he wants your love, and knows that no other man is worthy of it. half the time he doubts he's worthy of it as well.
"i didn't mean what i said," you tell him again and he shushes you with another kiss, nodding as his large hands run soothingly up and down your back, his nose nudging your sweetly.
"i know sweetheart, i didn't either. y'know what you mean to me, nothing you say or do will ever make me mad at you." and he's right, because he can't remember the last time he had been with a woman who he was sure he'd kill for, can't remember the last time he had actually loved someone the way he loves you.
"i," you feel your words running out when his lips attach to your neck, your head falling backward to give him more room as heat blossoms in your face, across your chest, "i wanna run away with you, start fresh s-somewhere," you can feel your mind begin to go hazy as he sucks, his tongue running across the fresh marks he leaves you, looking through his long lashes as he listens intently to what you have to say.
"no," he shakes his head, undoing the knot that was keeping your dress together as his nose rubs at your soft skin, savoring this, "no, you're 'gonna go back home and you're 'gonna-"
"toji!" you try to quiet him but he looks at you, wanting to finish what he is trying to say. you knew what he wanted to tell you, knew that deep down you were merely dreaming. his calloused hands squeezed at your thighs, unconsciously moving you up and down his hard bulge.
"and you're 'gonna marry somebody who can provide for you," and although the words take everything in him to say, he knows that is the life that you deserve.
"i'll work, i'll find a job and the two of us will-" he presses a soft kiss to your lips, shaking his head.
"you know that this isn't the life cut out for you, and you know that no matter what, i won't be able to give you everything that you want." his thumb is hungrily hooking your panties to the side, fingers running over your slit that was practically dripping in wetness. he knew that this was the last time the two of you could be able to do this, and though he wanted to savor every second with you, he could barely control himself as it was.
"i want you," you shakily say, tears springing in your eyes as he hurries to wipe them away. who would have guessed that the man most feared in town would have done anything in his power to make the woman he loved most smile genuinely again?
to that, he had no response.
so instead, he did what he knew best, tugging his pants down as his cock sprang free. you glanced down, your mouth running dry at the sight.
his head was an angry red, leaking with pre as it twitched in the cold air. he was the only man you've been with, but you were aware enough to know that he was hung. and you couldn't help but think he was pretty, although you'd never admit it out loud. toji would only swat at you, gently turning your head to the side as he rolled his eyes.
but tonight, the two of you didn't have time to waste.
normally, he'd eat you out until your screams filled his house until your legs clamped around his head until you said you couldn't take anymore, his mouth shining with your essence and his spit. but you were wet enough where he didn't have to, and truth be told, you wanted him in you now, wanted to feel yourself around him.
you lined yourself up with him, your walls fluttering around nothing as his head spasmed from the feeling of lightly running against your clit. he was usually the one in charge, but tonight he let you take the lead, knowing how you needed it.
you gently pushed yourself on, your head tipping backward at the stretch. no matter how many times you'd take him, your pussy would never fully be able to accommodate his size. even his fingers would sting when he stretched you out, and this was far more different from that.
"fuck, slowly, there you go," he talked you through it, his eyes half-lidded as you began to sink into him, taking him inch by inch. your fingers gripped his shoulder, leaving indents as you felt your lungs squeezing out any of the air left in them.
"t-toji, fuck, you're so big," you mutter, biting on your lips to keep in the wanton moans as you squeeze around him, hearing him suck in a breath at the feeling of your walls fluttering around his twitching cock.
"you can do it," his hands gripped onto your waist, your skirt pooling around your hips as he helped steady you on, "know you can sweetheart, you've done it before," his voice was husky, a deep drawl to it. you loved it, loved him, loved everything about him.
"shit, hmmm, fuck!" you squeal, finally squeezing all of him in your, trying to take a little break as you felt him nearly rip you in half, the sting was welcome, and you lived for the way his head nipped at the spot that made your eyes roll back.
after a few seconds, you felt his thumb find your clit, swiping at it slowly as he began to move you up gently with his other hand. sweat was dotting his brow bone, and your head had thumped onto his, letting him maneuver your body.
once it was just his tip left in you, his eyes found yours, making sure you were good. when you gave him the go-ahead nod, he slammed your back down, a loud whine ripping itself from your lips.
"t-toji! oh my god, ooooh, f-fuck, toji!" you could barely find any words to say as he bounced you up and down on his cock, squelching sounds filling the air as a ring of you circling it's way around his dick, making it shine in the faint candles he had lit once the power went out from the storm.
"there you go, fuck, jus' like that." he rasped, eyeing the way your tits bounced with every move, palming them as he switched between tugging at your nipples and swiping at your clit, knowing either one made your mind go foggy.
"remember this dick when you see that scrawny bitch, yeah?" he huffs into your damp skin, kissing, biting at your chest, your neck as he looks up at you, "know this he can never amount to this, 'k sweetheart?"
you nod feverishly, tugging at the strands of hair that littered at his nape as you lean down to kiss him, everything messy and rushed as the two of you cling onto each other.
"who makes you feel this good?"
"y-you!" you cry out, crying from the pleasure and the pain, the crack in your heart worsening with each second.
"who does this pussy belong to?" he edged you on, his veins dragging up and down your walls with his every thrust, his lip caught between his teeth.
"you toji!" you whine out, trying to grab onto his clothes, his shoulders, anything to stabilize you to reality.
"who do you love, huh, sweetheart?" he needs to hear it once more, once more so that it can be seared into his mind. once more so that once he has to live a life without you in it, the reminder that you love him, or at least loved him at some point, can make him smile without having it turn bitter.
"you, jus' you toji!" your tears are salty on his lips, and he can feel you getting closer to your release. he knows he's not far away from his, so he picks up his pace, rubbing your little bud faster as he feels your walls clench tightly around him.
"that's right," he groans, "you're all mine."
he knows that he's being selfish, knows that you'll probably forget about him and this fling years from now. but here, at this moment, he wants you to remember him. he wants your pussy to mold to his shape so that no other man can fit you, fuck you, love you the way toji does.
you nod again, your arms circling around his neck as your hips stutter, your stomach clenching and walls clamping down as you feel yourself about to let go.
"toji, i'm gonna, fuck, toji...!" you squeal when he doesn't stop, his pace relentless as he sucks a nipple into his mouth, never leaving you unmarked with his bruising grip on your waist.
"come on, do it, let go, come with me," he's close, and once he feels your walls spasming around him, your head tilting back as you let out a strangled cry as you come, he lifts you up, his release spilling all over your naked stomach as his cock twitched with his every movement.
you swear you've never felt this good in your life, your toes curling as you finally cum around him. it's too much, the way your essence squirts everywhere, your walls longing to be filled once he pulls out of you.
it's too much yet too little, knowing that the two of you don't have much time to savor this moment.
your chest is heaving up and down, your neck flushing with heat as you settle back down on toji's lap, your legs and thighs cramping as he flashes' you a little grin, the same one that made you fall in love with him in the first place as you move some hair away from his eyes.
aside from your labored breaths, his house is silent once again, and just as heavy as it was minutes ago.
"the night's still not over," he reminds you, the two of you glancing out the window as the rain continues to storm down. the wind is faster and angrier than it was before you arrived, and the thunder rattles the little house.
"can we go to your bedroom?" you ask, resting your head down on his chest as you listen to the rhythmic pattern of his heartbeat. it's erratic, just like yours.
"mhm," he hums, rubbing a soothing hand up and down your back, shuffling your skirt around so that it settles on your thighs.
"i'm 'gonna come back next year," you saw, wiping at your cheeks so that he can't see you crying again, but nothing goes unnoticed by him, "and you better have a ring waiting for me when i do."
he nods again.
"anything for my girl."
2K notes · View notes
literaila · 3 months
Text
sick
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: satoru does not get the 'flu' that you have, or why you can't take megumi to the bookstore
warnings: symptoms of the flu, satoru is a bastard, cute kids
last part | next part
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*
year two.
you:  can you take megumi to the bookstore? i can't make it 
"megumi wants me to ask you what you mean by 'i can't make it.'" 
your phone rings as soon as the message is sent, making you groan and roll over in bed. your palms are sweaty, and your body feels a bit like you got eaten alive. 
you probably shouldn't have answered, but honestly, how can you be expected to make smart decisions in this state?
you sigh into the phone. "it means that i can't make it, satoru." 
usually, his voice would make you smile but right now it just makes you want to die. and sleep for a couple... billion years, at least. 
"megumi wants me to ask what you mean by that?" satoru says again like you can't tell he's grinning. 
"just let me talk to him," you sigh, turning over on your side, which does nothing to ease the ache in your abdomen, by the way. you feel briefly nauseous like you might need the bowl you dragged under the covers, but it eases. you swallow bile. 
"what's wrong?" satoru asks, still teasing, and doesn't put megumi on the phone because he has never, not once in his life done anything without an argument. 
really, why do you put up with him?
"nothing." 
"well you just forgot that both of the kids are in school right now, like they are every day, so..." 
you close your eyes, pulling the covers up even higher. "oh. yeah." 
"did you get hurt, or something?" satoru asks, no concern evident in his voice, "going on another mission?" 
"no." 
satoru is silent, waiting. and you really truly do hate him. anyone else would just do you this favor. 
but not your best friend, no, he does nothing you ask. 
"i'm sick," you tell him, after a whole minute of silence. 
you can almost hear it as his brows furrow. "what?" 
"i have the flu or something," you cough into the receiver, hoping that it hurts his ear. 
"how?" 
"ugh," you groan, trying to rub the ache out of your jaw. "not all of us are immune to getting sick, you freak. will you take megumi to the bookstore for me? please?" 
"i don't think he wants to go with me." 
"satoru," you whine. 
"...and also i'm not allowed to enter the premises anymore." 
you sniff, wishing that you had more tissues, "what? since when?" 
"a couple weeks ago," he answers, nonchalantly. you can hear him moving around, probably wreaking havoc on the house you'll have to deep clean in a couple of days. 
not to mention your room. seriously, getting sick is the worst. 
"why?" 
"nuh uh," he says to you, very seriously. "that's between me and the children. they swore me to secrecy, and you're the one that's always going on and on about trust and how easily it's broken..." 
"you mean that you swore them to secrecy." 
"i bribed them," satoru agrees as if it's not an insane thing to say about your seven and eight-year-olds. 
"with what?!" 
"tsumiki took the offer of picking whatever takeout she wanted, and i think megumi was just glad i couldn't bring him anymore, the brat." 
you can hear his eyes roll, and the mention of the little boy's name reminds you of why you're having this discussion in the first place. 
"satoru... i really can't take him and i promised we'd go today," you groan into your pillow, voice feeling very sore. you shouldn't be talking to this insane man right now, you should be asleep. 
he pauses. "i can wear a disguise, i guess?" 
you groan again, hopefully, louder. "no, you're right about him not wanting to go with you." 
"rude." 
"i guess i'll just..." you attempt to sit up for the third time, feeling a bit dizzy as you do so. "i'll take some medicine and see if i feel better by the time they get out of school."
you're already mentally checking your medicine cabinet, not even sure if you have anything to help this ease by later in the afternoon. just some pain relief would be nice, but if you're contagious...
"what? no."
"well, you can't take him," you answer, still annoyed. 
"he doesn't need to go..." 
you hope that satoru can feel your scowl. "i promised." 
"he's a reasonable kid..." satoru says, clearly not remembering the brooding that happened the last time megumi had to re-read one of his books. "i think." 
you're silent. 
"look, i'll talk to him, okay?" he settles on, finally. "and i'll give him a couple hundred yen, it'll be fine. 
your mouth opens, and you cough, before, "no, satoru--" 
"get some rest," he exclaims, unpleasantly. 
"have him call me when you pick them up, satoru--" 
"don't die of the flu or anything." 
and then he's gone, and now you've got a headache, too. 
*
you think you might be dreaming when you open your front door.
the knocking had woken you up--you think--but with how long it took to walk from your room, into the hallway, and then the door, honestly, you might've fainted. or decided to take another nap against the wall. 
because once you open it, it feels like you've done this before.  
once again, three people are standing in front of you, two of them already arguing before you even take a step back to swing the door all the way open. 
the light hurts your head as you squint at the three of them. 
"it was my idea--" megumi is saying to satoru, grumpy, you know, from all day at school, and because he's talking to satoru.
"you're not taking all of the credit," satoru says back, "i bought everything." 
"'cause you're rich." 
"wow, so you're objectifying me?" 
"yes," megumi answers immediately, even though you doubt that he even knows what objectifying means (actually, you're pretty certain satoru doesn't even know). you cough, and it feels like something has died inside of you. 
the three of them turn towards you, tsumiki with a pleading look.
"it was my idea, okay?" megumi tells you before anyone else can say anything, and then he pulls tsumiki along with him as they move past you, through the door, into your apartment. 
yes, it's clear that satoru has raised them. 
"i said we should bring soup," tsumiki looks up at you, waiting for the praise she knows you'll give her. 
"our idea," megumi amends, easily. 
then they're out of your reach, going to sit on the very same couch they'd slept on a year ago, probably trying to escape satoru.
who you turn to, with a frown. his hair is so white it hurts to look at.
he points into your apartment, "those are devil spawn." 
you cough. "don't call them that." 
he raises a brow at you. probably at how soft your voice is, or the fact that you haven't hit him in the thirty seconds he's been standing there. 
it's a new record. 
"why are you here?" you rasp out, wiping some snot from your nose.
"no 'hello?'" 
"hello, satoru," your voice is retched, "why are you here?" 
"you look kinda rough, kid," 
you sniff, leaning against the doorjam. you could fall asleep here in an instant. "i'm sick, you jerk." 
"so this is sickness..." satoru says, intrigued, pretending to inspect you closely like you're some lab experiment. 
"i distinctly remember a cold that had you shaking on the floor of your dorm, begging shoko to heal you." 
satoru points a finger at you. "that was an uncurable illness." 
"and yet we're still stuck with you." 
satoru just smirks, pretending to be an angel he is not. 
you cough again and then sigh. it's cold with the door open. "are you just here to annoy me?"
"no," satoru shakes his head, giving you a ridiculous look, "well, i was telling megumi that you couldn't take him to the bookstore, cause of your disease or whatever," he ignores your weak protest, "and then i suggested that maybe we could see how you were feeling, bring you a little gift basket--" 
"no, he didn't!" megumi calls. 
satoru frowns. "devil. spawn." 
you snort, somehow amused at all of them, finally moving aside so he can walk through the door. 
satoru passes, suddenly brighter, but not before leaving an obnoxious kiss on your cheek--a resounding smack following. to which, you promptly wipe off. 
he frowns, and you push him so you can close the door. and then you trail into the kitchen, sitting down immediately before you fall. 
it's so embarrassing that just standing for too long has made you this lightheaded. 
satoru sets a bag on your kitchen counter and begins to unpack it. 
you try to see over his hands. "what did you bring me?" 
"you guys are so unappreciative," satoru tells you, pouting, "you only want me for my goods." 
"and the view," you answer, easily. "what'd you get?" 
megumi and tsumiki comes over to you, both of them giving you a short (megumi) and tight (tsumiki) hug. you've trained them well. 
"soup!" tsumiki tells you, grabbing the container from satoru's hands, despite his look. and then she walks over to your stove, looking in the cupboards for a pot to heat it in. 
because she's used to taking care of herself. they both are. 
"satoru," you nod to her, and he frowns, but reluctantly takes over, pushing tsumiki away from the stove. you're both familiar with this behavior from her. 
most days when you make dinner, tsumiki is trying to sneak into the kitchen, refusing to let you take care of it. 
she pouts a little now, but lets satoru handle the soup.
"gojo got you all of these," megumi tells you, bringing your eyes away from the other man, pushing a stack of pill bottles and medicine containers your way. "i don't think he knows what any of them are." 
"hey! that's a great selection," satoru pours the soup into a pot and sets it on the stove, returning to the counter with the three of you.
"this is a muscle relaxant," you tell him, frowning as you look at the packages--most of which are not for the flu. this is why he's not allowed to go to the store without you.
"well, your muscles need to relax, don't they?" satoru asks, dryly. "wish we could find some of those for your brain..." he mutters, afterward, and you throw the packet right at his face. 
"i found those little sour things you like," megumi continues, smirking just a moment at satoru. "they didn't have a big bag." 
"thanks, megs." 
"there's tissues, and chapstick if your lips get dry. and i picked out the cough drops because gojo wanted to get chocolate flavored or something--" 
"strawberry!" 
megumi rolls his eyes. 
tsumiki steps to your side again. "and we got flowers, but those are still in the car." 
"no, they're not," satoru suddenly has a bouquet of roses in his hands, almost covering his entire face. "they're right here." 
"when did you do that?" 
"when you guys were ridiculing my excellent taste," he pouts, white hair falling over his glasses. 
you laugh. 
"where's your vase?" he asks, going through every cupboard before finally listening to your answer. he settles on the other end of your kitchen, cutting and arranging the bouquet. 
tsumiki taps you. "are you feeling bad?" 
"just a little out of it, sweetie, don't worry." 
"did we get everything you need?" megumi chimes in, giving you a brief moment of eye contact before looking away. 
"yes. you guys did great, thank you both. you're very sweet." 
satoru ahems loudly. "and what about me?" 
"you could've done better." 
the kids both laugh and you push them into the living room, telling them to go sit down for a bit--knowing that satoru dragged them from school to the store to here without a break--and that you'll find a snack for them. 
and then you sigh, a bit nauseous from sitting up for so long. 
"do you need to lay down?" satoru peers at you, setting the bouquet on your table. "you look green." 
"thanks. how'd you learn to do that?" you gesture to the flowers which are arranged beautifully. honestly, you're surprised he didn't leave them on the counter for you to deal with. 
"i am a gentleman." 
"ha. no, seriously." 
"...i may, or may not have looked up what to bring someone who has the flu--and the flowers were extra, but!" he pauses as you laugh at him, resting your head against the cool counter. "i only had to do that because i don't get affected by stupid things like the flu or whatever you have." 
"of course," you whisper, closing your eyes. 
and then there's a hand on your forehead. "you're really warm." 
you press your head into his hand, which is also pleasantly cold. "yeah." 
"did you sleep all day?" 
you nod. 
"really? that's so lazy." 
you push him away, and he laughs, just loud enough for you to hear it. you open your eyes again when you hear him move away, watching him stir the soup on the stove. 
"you probably shouldn't have brought them here," you tell him, gesturing to the living room. "i don't want to get them sick." 
"they missed you," satoru shrugs. "you wouldn't want them to be sick alone." 
"yeah, but..." 
"i'm the worrier today," he interrupts, wrapping his hand around your wrist so he can pull you. "go lay down on the couch with them and i'll get your soup ready." 
"you'll burn it, you mean?" 
"as a punishment for all of the cruel things you say to me," and satoru smiles as he nudges the top of your head with his nose. 
his eyes are almost stern (almost, but not quite) as he watches you lay down on the couch, your hands gestured in defeat, and nods when you're settled in. 
when he walks away, you call, "bring us some water!" 
there's no response, but you know he'll do it. 
tsumiki just slightly nudges you with her hand and you smile, opening your arms for her to cuddle under. 
megumi doesn't do the same, but you don't fail to notice when he scooches just a little bit closer to you both, his thigh touching yours. 
your head still hurts and even the smell of the soup is making you a bit sick, but you'll deal with it as long as they're all here. 
*
you're arguing with satoru about dinner, several days later, when tsumiki and megumi sneeze at exactly the same time. 
it took a couple of days for you to recover, but now you're better than ever, happily fighting with satoru over the stupidest things and watching over both of the children for any defects that happened while you were out of sorts. 
they're mostly okay. 
but now the both of you look over to them, your eyes wide, satoru almost wincing. 
and then you look back to him, already scowling. 
"hey, it was just a sneeze," he tells you, quickly, already knowing what you're about to say. 
"i told you--" 
and then he sneezes, taking a step away from you. 
you groan, giving up on dinner. it looks like the next few days are going to be spent coddling all of your children. 
*
next part
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littlelightfish · 18 days
Text
Holm nation... I have a heartbreaking announcement to make.
We didn't get to see this panels animated.
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(I wanted to see Laios helping him, this one isn't the one this post is all about)
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I feel it's important to his character enough that Kui decided to dedicate three panels about how he aproaches and resurrects Kabru.
He is used to resurrecting people, his party sucks at keeping themselves alive. He walks up to Kabru's corpse with a worried look on his face. Then he kneels besides him and takes a second to process what he is seeing. He is seeing a young man, Kabru, dead. It makes him feel unseasy, a bit of shock that he can't take the luxury of process at the moment. He doesn't want to look, so he closes his eyes and focuses on his spell. He is realizing he is the only one alive from his party (he doesn't know where Mick is or how he is). He is the last one standing. The reality of it all slaps him in the face.
The panel of him just... looking at the mess Kabru's corpse is was just... It was important. It talked about him as a character. "I'm not doing this because I want to, but because I have to". He doesn't has time for emotions. He has a job to do.
It's just three panels. But they provide lots of context between the ones that came before and after.
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He doesn't just rubs Kabru's head because he's being afective. He does it because he cares. He does it out of relief. "As long as I'm here, any of you'll be dying soon. And I'll always be here. Don't worry." He is far from being OK after all this. Marillier died, Daya died, Kuro died, Kabru died, Rin died, Mick probably died too (but he doesn't saw it). He... By the time he was the only one standing, the fight was over, and he could alredy resurrect them. He wants to feel sad. To worry, to be concerned, to mourn. But he can't. It isn't necessary.
He is a cleric. He for sure has a notion of dead way different than anyone and feels a certain way about resurrection. "Dying is dying, even if you resurrect." It's a bug at the corner of his mind, he doesn't pay it any attention. He gets resurrected multiple times, he is gratefull he is alive. But seeing all his friends dead? And the most of them mutilated? Covered in their own blood? He has this desire to mourn. To cry the loss. To panic. "They are all dead."
He knows they'll come back. He has to make them come back. So he does. And they are alive. But they weren't a few seconds ago. And he just plays it off, he puts his calm face on as soon as there is another party member alive that could ask him what happened that it disturbed him so much. He throws all those sad feelings under the rug and focuses at the task at hand.
They're going to be ok, he just has to do his job: bring them back from death. They shouldn't even be dead. But they are. And he's going to fix it. No point on feeling sad about them dying if they can be alive soon!
I think the concern that the anime puts here it's something that could come close to what he feels inside. Those seconds are the only ones we see him looking something akin to worried for his friends.
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But then...
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His worry vanishes in seconds. The moment Kabru revives, he does it in such a "Kabru" way, that he tells himself: "This is fine, they're going to be back soon, nothing to worry about, I just have to hurry". He wants them all back to live. We know for sure that in his priority list there wasn't any "reviving Toshiro's party members first". He was going to make sure all his party, all his friends, were alive before even thinking of resurrecting other people if he still had the magic.
Those three panels they didn't animate are something that was there for a reason. To give depth to Holm. This last episode is definitely the one in wich he shines the most. He isn't the main character at all this episode, but he does the most important stuff on the background. He revives them all. This all lack of something if you don't show what Kuy drew on those panels.
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Here he just... goes to work. He says: "lemme handle it" and he does. No concern, no worry, no, nothing. He just does. No thoughts.
It makes me sad. Those panels were important. :(
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unclewaynemunson · 8 months
Text
@bigskyandthecoldgun made this very big-brained post about the perfect miscommunication potential of Eddie's heart monitor betraying his feelings for Steve while he's recovering. @mostrizzaward asked me to write it and how could I say no to that :D
The first time Steve sets foot in Eddie's hospital room is terrifying. Eddie is as pale as a dead man. He has dozens of wires attached to his body, that are connected to just as many machines and monitors displaying complicated graphs, all softly beeping at varying intervals. Everyone in the room talks in soft, grave voices and all the nurses and doctors have matching serious frowns on their faces.
But what seemed to be impossible happens on a dreary Wednesday afternoon in April: Eddie opens his eyes for the very first time since he passed out in Dustin's arms. Steve is at work when that happens, but rushes to the hospital as soon as he can, and suddenly Eddie's room seems a lot less terrifying than before. Because Eddie is grinning at him from his bed, even though he's still pale and weak. He's not only alive, he's awake. It's a goddamn miracle. His wide grin is familiar despite the big scar that has marred his cheek. Fuck, Steve doesn't think he'll ever be able to put into words how much he missed that smile.
Eddie rasps his name as a greeting and Steve comes closer to the bed. But then, something weird happens.
The machines around Eddie's bed are still beeping, but there's less of them now. The electronic symphony of noises has been reduced to a duet of two different beep patterns that are clearly distinguishable from each other. And one of them speeds up rapidly when Steve leans over the bed in an awkwardly angled attempt to give Eddie a hug.
“You okay?” Steve asks, worried. He wonders if he should call for a nurse.
“Yeah, man,” Eddie mumbles. His eyes flash towards the monitor in question for a second and a blush creeps over his white cheeks. He seems ill at ease; Steve can't quite put his finger on it but there's something weirdly awkward about the whole thing. He seems otherwise fine, though, so Steve decides no nurses will be necessary.
He clears his throat and takes a seat in the chair next to the bed. For a moment, he wonders why he's even here. They weren't exactly friends before all of this happened. It would be perfectly normal for Eddie not to want him around – and yet here he is, visiting him in the hospital like it's the most normal thing in the world. What is he even doing here?
But then, Eddie starts talking about how his uncle was with him when he woke up and gave him this book he's been wanting to buy for ages.
“He cried, Steve, I've never seen him cry in my life, but he was bawling, I'm not kidding!”
Despite his animated tone, Eddie's voice is still weak and his eyes keep falling shut even while he is talking. Steve knows that he shouldn't overstay his welcome and let Eddie rest, but he finds himself too captivated in how alive Eddie is, even though his whole presence – his loud voice, his broad arm gestures, his expressive face – seems a little bit toned down. So when Eddie tells him with a vague gesture to his nightstand that he tried to read his new book, but found himself too tired to focus properly, Steve finds himself proposing to read it to Eddie before he even realizes what he's doing.
And then the weird thing happens again. Eddie starts smiling at the exact same time the heart monitor accelerates.
Steve chooses to pretend like he doesn't notice. Instead, he takes the book from the nightstand and flips it open on the first page. He starts reading aloud, but he can't really keep his attention on the words that come out of his own mouth. He can't help but feel like he made a mistake. Is the heart monitor signaling to him that his presence is making Eddie uncomfortable? Shouldn't he have left Eddie alone to rest when he started getting tired? Why the hell did he ever think it'd be a good idea to read to him in the first place? He's never been a good reader, and certainly not a performer like Eddie. So he awkwardly stumbles his way through the words on the pages, in no way able to keep up with the complicated plot and no doubt failing spectacularly in the use of voices and appropriately ominous pauses and whatnot. Whenever he glances up from the pages, he finds Eddie leaning into his pillow with his eyes closed and a faint smile around his lips, only to find out he's lost track of where he was when he directs his attention back to the book in his hands.
It doesn't take long until Eddie's breathing becomes audibly deeper and evens out. Steve softly closes the book. He allows himself a few moments to do nothing but stare at Eddie's face and be grateful for the absence of a breathing tube between his lips, showing that he's only sleeping this time. Then, he gets up and tiptoes out of the room.
***
The weird thing with the heart monitor keeps happening every time Steve visits Eddie. It happens when he greets him, when he starts reading to him, and especially whenever he helps him adjust his position in the bed he's still chained to. Every time they touch, every time Steve gets close to him in any way, like clockwork. And every time, it's paired with some kind of physical reaction on Eddie's part: a blush on his cheeks, a somewhat forced chuckle, or sometimes even a badly concealed flinch, away from where Steve's hands are touching Eddie.
Steve pretends not to notice it, for Eddie's sake, but it can only happen so many times before he has to face the clear and obvious truth here: his presence is making Eddie extremely uncomfortable.
One part of it still doesn't make sense, though: Eddie actually asks him to read to him or to help him sit up or lie down again, and the next thing he knows, Eddie will suddenly be avoiding his gaze and that goddamn heart monitor will make it sound like Eddie is trying to break a sprint record instead of lounging in his bed, and he'll recoil from Steve's touch like he doesn't want his hands anywhere around him.
Steve muses over Eddie's odd behavior for days before he comes to the only logical conclusion: Eddie is actually repulsed by him and is too polite to tell him the truth. It's the only explanation that makes sense. It's just like what Steve realized so clearly that first time after Eddie woke up: they weren't friends before this, so why should they be now? Steve has no business being at his bedside all of a sudden, and Eddie doesn't have the heart to be mean to him and spell that out for him.
He can't even blame Eddie for it. For most of the time they've known each other, Steve was a major asshole, everybody knows that. Sure, they're twenty now and Steve has moved past high school stereotypes when he got close to Robin, but still... Those stereotypes made up everything about who they were, how they were perceived and who they interacted with for four whole years of their lives – six even, in Eddie's case. Eddie doesn't have any reason to want to let that go like Steve did.
He would never admit it to anyone, but the conclusion he reaches breaks Steve's heart: he should stay away from Eddie. Eddie has every right not to like having Steve around and Steve certainly doesn't want to add to his discomfort. He has been through enough, Steve wouldn't want to make this whole long and painful process of recovery even worse for Eddie by imposing his unwanted presence on him.
It doesn't matter that Steve has started to look forward to his hospital visits like they're the very best part of his week. It doesn't matter that Steve's heart starts racing for whole other reasons than Eddie's whenever they're close, whenever they're touching or whenever Eddie is smiling that beautiful smile of his. It doesn't matter that Steve wants nothing more than to keep reading to Eddie even though he still doesn't have a clue what that stupid book is about. None of it matters, because that's simply the price one has to pay for being an asshole and a bully in high school.
It doesn't matter, because there are way worse things than the guy you've developed feelings for secretly harboring a grudge against you. He still has Robin, he still has his little nerds, he even has Nancy back; as a friend, this time, which is honestly better than things ever were between them. He has the knowledge that Eddie survived and will be getting better with each passing day. Maybe he can start dating again, find a cute girl with blue eyes and blonde hair who doesn't remind him of the one person he can't be around, and it'll all be fine again. It doesn't matter.
Update: there's now a sequel post :D
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lxkeee · 3 months
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Helloo, I was wondering if it was alright for u to write a lucifer x male reader where the reader is also a powerful demon and goes with lucifer to visit Charlie in the dad beat dad episode, and Charlie is just like OMG i have two dads now, this is awesome
if u don't write for male reader, then feel free to change or ignore this lol
MY GAYDAR IS NEVER WRONG!
—Lucifer Morningstar x m! Reader
warnings: mentions of s*icide.
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When Charlie called Lucifer, he was excited that his daughter wanted to invite him to see the hotel. He thought he would be able to handle it.
In fact, he did not.
The poor man had a complete mental breakdown as he over thought what would happen, how would he act around his daughter, what should he say, and etc.
So, he decided to ask for help and he just knows the right person for that.
His beloved boyfriend of one year, [y/n].
Backstory time,
Lucifer has been seeing and secretly dating the man for a year already, it took a while but he got charmed okay? [Y/n] is literally so charming, very handsome, very chivalrous.... And very tall...
And is a pianist.
Lucifer met [y/n] in a famous restaurant, that only elites or the rich can enter. [Y/n] so happens to own that restaurant.
The only reason he was there at that time was because the other seven deadly sins wanted to have a get together.
As the dinner with the other seven deadly sins progressed, Lucifer was enamored the whole night, his eyes staring at the tall and graceful man sitting in the middle of the restaurant as he played the piano for the guests so beautifully.
Asmodeus even teased him, making the king of hell blush.
That's where his frequent visit to the restaurant started.
Lucifer claims that he just wanted to listen to the man play and nothing else.
Of course, [y/n] noticed his frequent visits and decided to approach the smaller man.
Of course, Lucifer was cautious.
Lucifer was suspicious why the man looked more humane than others, aside from his sharp teeth.
Eventually, the two slowly got along and then slowly developed romantic feelings for each other.
They started telling each other their stories too.
Lucifer found out [y/n] was a pianist when he was still alive, he was born in the 1920's and died in 1945.
[Y/n] died as passionless artist, who lost his inspiration and will to live.
But despite all that, [y/n] managed to find his passion for music again in hell and despite the era he was born in, he managed to go with the flow of time.
Yes, he knows gen z slang 😭
He's got serious problems when it comes to saying "lmao" "purr" and "slay"
Anyways, after finding out and realizing why [y/n] is here is because the sin he committed is that he didn't appreciate the life was given to him and decided to take it away by his own hands.
Lucifer's caution around the man was gone and maybe, not all sinners are bad.
[y/n] confessed first and Lucifer reciprocated by giving the taller man a kiss (he had to pull down [y/n]'s tie okay?)
And Lucifer didn't regret it, [y/n] is a passionate lover. A green flag of all green flags.
“Why are you here? You're so nice, you shouldn't be here.”
“If I was up there, then I wouldn't have the pleasure of meeting you and calling you mine.” [y/n] said with a confused tone.
Unaware rizz.
This man, doesn't know how much his words affect Lucifer.
And the fact he can carry Lucifer bridal style and calls him his muse is the cherry on top.
Anyways, back to the scenario. I'm done with the backstory lmao
Lucifer decided to text [y/n] telling him about the situation, wanting emotional support as he's nervous going to an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people.
He thought [y/n] wouldn't be able to come as the man got work but he was wrong as not 15 minutes later, [y/n] bursts through the door looking absolutely disheveled.
[y/n] ran like his life depended on it.
“My muse, I am hereeee...” the poor tall man wheezed out, hunched on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.
Lucifer had to help the man out by using his wings to dry him up.
“Better?”
“Better, thanks my love.”
Lucifer had to explain the situation to him on the way to the hotel and [y/n] giving him peptalk after.
After arriving at the hotel, [y/n] stayed at the side while he watched Lucifer interact with the others.
He swore he heard the pink arachnid say, “Is anyone's gaydar going off right now?”
“It's just you, Angel.” the gray haired girl says with a deadpan.
After Charlie introduced the rest, she noticed the taller male companion who came with her dad. The male was just admiring the interior of the hotel.
Tall, dark, and handsome.
“So... Dad, how about you introduce me to your friend that you brought over?” Charlie asked, making the two males flinch in surprise.
[y/n] giggling as he watched the flustered look on Lucifer's face.
The two males just looked at each other, having a silent conversation.
“Do you want to tell her?” is what [y/n]'s facial expression says based on the raised eyebrow.
“I guess it's time to tell her.” Lucifer says through his facial expression, as a sigh left his lips.
The others just stared in silence as the two males looked at each other in silent conversation.
“Charlie, this is [y/n]... My... Significant other.”
After Lucifer introduced the unknown man, Charlie's jaw dropped.
So did the other's.
The only thing Charlie can think is “Holy shit, I'll have two dads.”
“SEE?! I FUCKING TOLD YOU THAT MY GAYDAR IS POPPING OFF SINCE THEY ARRIVED”
It was a wild night. From the dad off, some loan sharks deciding to cause a mess. (Charlie has three dads now)
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Do you guys want this as a series? I'm thinking of actually writing this concept because aihsjans it's so cutee and interesting 😭🤭
Also, I absolutely write for male readers as I myself is a man 🤭 aosjsi maybe I should write more Lucifer x male! Reader?
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fumekara · 2 months
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ALL THE THINGS I HAVE DONE (Part 2)
SatoSugu x Gn reader 
Plot: Your relationship with the strongest sorcerers in Japan was falling apart after they yelled at you and broke your heart. 
n/a: English is not my first language, there will be a final part of this writing experiment, I am not very satisfied with how it came out. 
Tw: A lot of angst, season 2 spoilers, mention of sex, polyamorous relationship, mention of the death of one's pet, the reader has a cat, in this version Geto is a sorcerer. 
If you are sensitive to mourning for your pets, do not interact with this fic. 
WC: 1.9K
Click here for part 1
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You had lain down and held Nuko in your arms the night you found him under the bed in the guest room and, without your noticing, you had fallen asleep, but no one seemed to care, Sutoru and Suguru had not come to wake you up to join them. 
You were sure they were still angry with you for what had happened the night before and you didn't want to think about it, since you now had another problem to deal with, Nuko's. 
He wasn't well, not at all, you could see it from the way he was lying on himself, the way he avoided moving and the way he occasionally meowed as if to warn you that he was still alive, for now. 
You stroked his back and he let you, after all he couldn't do much. 
Suddenly you heard the sound of approaching footsteps in your room. Immediately you rolled onto your back and pretended to be asleep.
When Suguru and Satoru entered your room, trying to make as little noise as possible, Nuko lifted his head as if to find out who was interrupting your fake sleep.   
You felt their weight sink into the bed when they sat beside you and then you felt a hand gently stroking your back.
"Y/N?" Satoru called you in a low voice. You didn't answer hoping that would be enough to convince them to leave you alone.
"We know you're not sleeping," Suguru said as he approached you from the other side of the bed, being careful not to crush Nuko with his weight. 
"How did you know?" you asked resigned by the fact that it was now useless to pretend.
"Your breathing was too irregular, that's not what you do when you sleep. We know better by now after so long sleeping together." you heard Sato chuckle as he rested his head on your shoulder. He was uncertain of the movement because he was afraid you would reject him because of what happened yesterday, but when you didn't he kept to your side. 
Suguru who was in front of you removed a lock of hair from your face very gently, as if you were made of glass, the same gesture you had made to him yesterday, and it broke his heart when he thought back to how badly he had treated you after you had given him a taste of your love. 
You reached out your hand again, but not to return the affection of the two men beside you, but to stroke your cat again, who was taking quick, heavy breaths.
"He's sick" you broke the silence.
"What's wrong with him?" asked Satoru looking at Nuko.
"I don't know, but he doesn't eat, breathes poorly and sleeps all day." You rolled onto your back and the white-haired man pulled away from you to give you space.
"Is that why you didn't sleep with us last night? Or even because of what happened yesterday?" asked Suguru worriedly, but you had a hunch he was using it as an excuse to criticise you. 
"What do you mean, that I use my cat being sick as an excuse not to sleep with you?" you asked without hiding your irritation.
"I didn't mean that, we're just worried." 
"Really?, so why didn't you come to wake me up if you care so much?" you sat up and so did they. "Don't pretend you care so much, I know you don't" you spat, by now you had a feeling you didn't care what they thought anymore, not after the words they said to you last time. 
"Y/N, we do care about you. We came here to apologize to you," Satoru told you, trying to find the right words to keep you from getting angry. 
"We went too far yesterday, Y/N, we shouldn't have treated you that way" Suguru picked you up and made you rest your head on his chest and shortly afterwards Satoru joined in the hug "We are sincerely sorry for what happened".
You felt the strong urge to cry and let them wrap their arms around you, but part of you did not believe their words. By now it seemed to you that they were only pretending to really love you. All you had been thinking about for weeks was how you felt like the third wheel in your relationship, as if they were only with you for convenience, because you were fun for them and not because they cared about you. 
The way they talked to each other, cuddled and had fun without you had started to make you feel insecure about your role in the relationship with Suguru and Satoru, even though those moments made you suspect that they didn't really need you, it still remained an assumption. But you also suspected that they were more aloof and impatient with you in a different way than between the two of them, and yesterday's discussion and the fact that they didn't want you with them in bed seemed to have awakened in you the confirmation of your worries. 
"How many times do we have to go through this again?" you said trying to hide the urge to cry "Now you apologize, but I know it will happen again in the future."
They looked at each other not believing your words.
"What do you mean, sweetheart?" asked Suguru. 
Then you confessed: "I am not part of this relationship.". 
"Yes, you're part of it, we love you Y/N," Satoru told her by taking her chin mat so she could look straight into your blue eyes "I know what we said to you was mean, but you mustn't think we don't love you just because we had a fight once. We..." 
"It's not just that" you interrupt him "I watch how you treat each other and you don't do it the same way you treat me. It's not the first time you've made me feel clingy, when you often do things as if I'm not there, when you change the subject as soon as I butt into the conversation or when you get nervous about the smallest things I do." you continued "I feel like that all the time, when we're together, when we talk to each other, even when we make love I feel like I'm just a fun for you, not someone you love."
After you opened up to them, your boyfriends stared at you, not believing what you had just told them. They were not sure what had made you doubt the love they both had for each other, but they thought back to the fact that the two of them had known each other longer than you, worked together and always together had faced so many problems and dark pasts that, although they had hurt them deeply, they had learnt to face them together and, no matter how hard you had tried to support them, as they had supported each other in the darkest moments of their lives. You were not to blame, they were simply part of a world of which you were not and could not be a part. 
Together they faced the death of Haibara and Riko and both shared the scars that had been inflicted on them by Toji Fushiguro. For years they supported each other and loved each other unconditionally, sharing everything with each other, everything they loved most, including you. 
They loved you, really loved you, but they knew that they had both shared something in their experience as sorcerers that had allowed them to strengthen their bond and their love, but they had left you behind.
They both did not know what to say because they knew that was the truth. The only thing they felt able to do was to hold you in their arms again, this time with more strength, with more affection, as if they did not want to let you go. Their faces were buried in you, Suguru in your back and Satoru's in your shoulder, and you heard them crying. 
"I have to take Nuko to the vet. But I think there's not much to do with him," you said, letting a silent tear slide down your cheek.
"Let us take you," Satoru told you, holding you tightly, rubbing his head in the crook of your neck.
"No, I need to be alone," your voice broke. By now you knew you had lost the boys you had fallen in love with and you just wanted to run away.
By now you could no longer contain the tears that fell uninterruptedly from your eyes, they let you go, and as you left the room carrying Nuko with you, you heard their sobs and your heart broke. 
______________
And now here you were, in the driveway of your backyard sitting on the seat of your car holding Nuko's yellow collar. 
You had been there for fifteen minutes already, but you hadn't yet made up your mind to get out and go into the house; you didn't know how you would face Satoru and Suguru. You were afraid that after all you had confessed to them before you left them alone in tears it would be the final turning point that would end your relationship. You didn't want to hurt them, just the thought of making them cry made you feel bad, you loved them, you loved them so much and you would probably separate. 
You took a couple of deep breaths and got out of the car. 
After entering the house you closed the door and took off your shoes still holding the collar. 
You had been out of the house all day and by now everyone must have gone to sleep. The house was silent and shrouded completely in darkness except for a light coming from the kitchen. 
As you silently entered you saw Suguru and Satoru sitting on either side of the dining table who, as soon as they noticed your presence, although you could glimpse tiredness and sadness in their eyes, tried to show you their best smile. 
They had been waiting for you.
They both extinguished their smiles when you approached them pointing out the traces of crying on your face, and only then did they realize that you had returned alone. 
You sat by Suguru's side with Satoru facing you and placed Nuko's collar on the table, letting them know that your cat was gone forever. Suddenly you felt tears fill your eyes again.
"Oh love, come here," Suguru hugged you, while Satoru got up from his chair to join you and do the same. You stayed like that for you don't know how long, despite everything that had happened, they were there for you at that moment, just as you were always there for them when they needed you. They let you cry and vent, hugging you as if to protect you from all the evil in the world. 
At one point you felt your body lift off the ground, you didn't know if it was Satoru or Suguru holding you, but you buried your tearful face in his neck as he carried you to the bedroom. 
They laid you in the middle of the bed and held you close all night, even when you all fell asleep together. 
Perhaps there was still hope between you, perhaps all was not lost.  
Click here for the final part
Tag: @tatahungry
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celestialprincesse · 2 months
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💕🩰
I'm sorry but I just know that Price has a breeding kink🥴
mdni 🎀 nsfw below the cut
Price has always, despite his situation, considered himself a family man, and with not only the added financial benefits of being boosted up to the SAS, but also the flexibility of being a captain, there's a yearning for something to come home to. So, when he finally marries someone that makes coming home more anticipatory than leaving in the first place, he can't help but finally feel fulfilled. Almost.
There's something missing though. Something that he can't help but yearn for. He's seen the way his fellow soldiers look at their partners with babies slung on their hips or bellies swollen with pregnancy, and he can't help but feel so selfishly jealous. He knows he shouldn't, knows that he should feel grateful for all of the goodness that she's bought into his life, that he's got the privilege of coming home alive, let alone alive, and to a beautiful woman willing to sink down on her knees for him and worship his cock like he's more god than mere man. Despite this, he wants more, and always finds himself feeling like Icarus inching that much closer to the sun with every good thing he gets.
"I want a baby." He growls into your ear whilst his cock is buried to the hilt inside your slick cunt, fingers interlocked and his baby blues burning vehemently into your own. He's long stilled his thrusts to capture your attention, and by the way your tits bob slightly with the movement of a deep inhale pulled in and held, followed by a little ragged puff of air back into his face, he can tell that you're listening. "You want a baby?" The waver in your voice doesn't go unnoticed by either of you, the almost imperceptible squeeze of your fingers around Johns igniting a spark of hope in his long thawed heart. "I want a baby. With you."
"Now?"
"Now."
"What about your work?"
"I've already sorted it."
John sees the way your brain short circuits at not only his words, but also the encouragingly slow snap of his hips as he thrusts up against your cervix, the hair of his chest brushing against your already sensitive nipples as he keeps at his languorous pace, waiting for you to give him an answer before he stuffs you full of his cum and doesn't let you get up through fear of potentially wasting even a drop of his seed.
"Please, darling. Fuck." He grunts as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes glossed over as you zone out, imagining a future with you and the man you love, and your children - child, even - maybe a dog for good measure. "You're sure you're ready?" You whisper, feeling the distinct prickling of tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. "S' all I want."
"Okay."
And with that, John's warm hand settles at the back of your neck, fingers curling into the roots of your hair whilst his free arm supports his position over you. Every time the weeping tip of his cock slams up into the plug of your womb and leaves your eyes rolling shut, he yanks gently on your hair, just enough to jerk your head back to look at his almost animal expression, growling about how he wants to look his wife in the eye when he fucks her full of his kids. He's entirely merciless as he spears you open on his cock, hitting the spot that makes your walls flutter desperately around him with every thrust, huffing in your ear when you drag your nails down his back at the mention of how fucking sexy you'll look all soft and swollen with his baby. You both know he won't be stopping at one.
You cum almost shamefully around his cock when he grabs a handful of the plush flesh of your boobs, dropping kisses down the column of your neck until his nose rests against your collarbone, keening out from both the physical and mental overstimulation. John rides you through it, leaving his tip brushing against your cervix as he finishes himself, before rolling you over with his cock still plugged inside, not wasting any of his cum as you lay there panting on his chest whilst his lips press to the top of your head before whispering in your ear:
"So I was thinking green for the nursery?"
ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ
quick lil something because I literally have no ideas of what to write oops 🤭
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enihk-writes · 3 months
Text
[someone older]
pairing: older!multi-fandom men x gn!they/them!reader
reader is written to be in their early twenties, under twenty-five and fresh out of uni with their first degree and no corporate work experience.
summary: shorts about old men and a younger beau to-be
content warning: big age-gap relationships // superior-subordinate power imbalance // possible infantilization // some form of saviour-complex // (some unintentional) manipulation
characters: zhongli (genshin impact) // neuvilette (genshin impact) // jing yuan (honkai star rail) // tang gunak (return of the blossoming blade) // dokgo (return of the mad demon) // chongyue (arknights) // shamane (RE:1999) // hiromi higuruma (jujutsu kaisen) // ryū (gokurakugai)
author's note: my lovely oomfs i need yall to look away and pretend im doing okay,,, the demons and the little voices in my head have won and taken over..... i have to make that middle-aged man pregnant so so so so bad it's terminal... (head in hands)... OUGHHHHKKKGSHHH (coughs blood and straight up dies)..... looking at the list here i really have a type huh....
[PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION! I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY TRIGGERS CAUSED BEYOND THIS LINE]
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ZHONGLI who had lived for long enough to have seen and experienced almost everything one could see, was still taken aback when he felt a familiar throb in his heart as he conversed with the new face of the artisan's alley. a fledgling who had just left their nest and was beginning to make their way into the world — your naivety much unlike your more seasoned neighbours who knew how to set the prices of their goods to gain the maximum profit. you were often tricked and scammed out of selling your wares at their proper price, too scared to stand your ground and disrespect your older customers. the former archon couldn't bear to see a budding talent, such as yourself, sell themselves short out of expected social courtesy. he often found himself buying your highest-priced works even if he had to empty his entire wallet. you were beyond grateful for his patronage, even offering a commission, free of charge. that's just how bad business was before he stepped in. oh you poor thing, now that he knows how easy it was to get you dancing in his palm, how could he let you meet better opportunities? he was your lifeline, the only way you were going to make it in this career you chose. and you better not forget that.
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NEUVILETTE knew that he shouldn't be so enamoured with the new hire. really. a being who had been alive for as long as he falling in love with someone thousands of years their junior? he wanted to rip his hair out. the chief justice approached this predicament as he would with almost anything he deemed annoying — avoidance. sending you out on errands that kept you out of the office for the whole day, giving days off to everyone if there was nothing on the agenda, having you go sort out documents in the filing room, and a whole host of other things that made sure you and him wouldn't cross paths. once he had a clearer mind to sit down and think, he is immediately riddled with guilt. weren't his actions akin to that of a black company employer? you on the other hand, could not be happier to hit the jackpot. good pay, regular days off, responsibilities that didn't require you to rack your brain too much. this was everything an energy-saving adult like you could ever want. it must be nice to frolic around and stay blissfully unaware while your boss was in the middle of a mental breakdown alone in his office.
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JING YUAN was a calculating man, despite the commonly held belief that he never really took things too seriously. he kept a rather consistent air of nonchalance so impenetrable that it annoyed you whenever you couldn't discern what was on his mind at that moment. your after-hours hobby these days was to drop by the community starchess club and play a few rounds with the people there. and who else was waiting there at your seat every day? your damned boss. the elders who were there swooned over the handsome general, remarking about how you and him made a great pair — much to your chagrin. the man would always send a blinding smile in your way as you got closer, even going so far as to help you settle down. the routine was always the same each night. you would play against him for at least five rounds consecutively, lose against him in almost every single match, play against the other club members, gather your things and go home for the day. the general would also coincidentally be done with his activities. he offered to walk you to your front door, you've learnt from the one time you refused that the general was unusually talented in pulling an extremely sad, pathetic, wet and kicked puppy face. unfortunately, you were too nice to reject him further. ah, but now that he knew of that weakness of yours, you'd better expect that he would be pulling the same trick again soon.
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TANG GUNAK felt that he was far too geriatric to be feeling this way. especially when he had adult children of his own. the youngest of whom was only a few years older than you were. a talented person, emerging at the top of your class in the academy meant that the world was your oyster. so why had you decided to come down to sichuan and work as an aide in this family? the patriarch had no clue, and he certainly didn't know how to even bring up the question. at first, he had hoped that perhaps you and one of his children would be wed but as time passed, it became increasingly obvious you were not interested in them at all, rather you had set your sights on the patriarch himself. him? the widower? the poor man who had only felt the touch of his dead wife? he was very scandalised that the young aide of his house was so open about their attraction to him. however, it seemed nobody in the household was on his side. not even his own flesh and blood. though for all that forwardness, he never expected that you would be so hesitant and shy when you were alone with him. it was endearing how you became more diligent whenever that happened, how you would engross yourself in your work just to pretend he wasn't there with you. the next time he looked up from what he was doing, you were passed out on your desk. he moved over to carry you back to your quarters — it was deep into the night right now anyways, so nobody would see him with you in his arms. he tucked you into bed, leaving as quickly as he came. the glimpse of his own flushed face in the reflection of the window never left his mind the rest of that week.
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DOKGO had agreed to follow his disciple to town only because said disciple was going to throw a tantrum in his courtyard and the older man was not in the mood to deal with the adult child. the master pretended to not be acquainted with his own disciple when the man began to flirt with the women passing by. he walked on and sat down at a vacant bench in front of a teahouse. his troublesome disciple eventually shook off the girls clinging onto him and joined his master at the table, a string of apologies falling out his mouth when he caught sight of the older man's disapproving glare. only when the younger man offered to pay did the old master's hardened expression fall softer — fine, he said with a grunt. the second headache of the day came in the shape of you, a wandering merchant, or so you said. you slipped in to sit next to the master after the disciple had graciously allowed you to. not like the older man could oppose when there weren't any empty seats in the vicinity. while the conversation was lively as you talked with the disciple about your travels, he could only focus solely on the callouses of your palms, something a merchant who says they are not a martial artist shouldn't have. you had noticed his scrutinising gaze, throwing him a quick grin as you continued the chat with his disciple. oh? he could only wonder what that was about. shame that his dull, blockheaded disciple had let that slip past him. the master wonders if he should up the training regime when they get back.
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CHONGYUE was up and early, as he usually does, leading the daily morning exercise with the other operators. the doctor not being there was somewhat expected, but you going missing? that was a first. when the morning exercise was over, he headed up to your room to check on you, finding the door slightly ajar. cautiously, he walked into the dark room, you had a bag of junk near the entry, from the looks of it you were living off cup noodles and soda, again. no wonder you were now curled up in bed all sick. he might have to give you an earful later, but for now, he puts aside your laundry and took out the trash. he goes down to the canteen, ordering some warm chicken porridge and even stopping by the nurse's office to pick up whatever he thinks you might need. this time, you were now somewhat awake. grumbling and muttering complaints under your breath from the disturbance, he helped you sit up. you insisted on feeding yourself, but he would have none of it. you could only comply and open your mouth wide every time he brought the spoon to your lips. you finished the food and even took the medicine obediently, earning praise from the man himself. before he left, he rubbed some medicinal balm on your stomach, layering warm blankets and patted you back to sleep, reciting an abbot's chants as he did so. the nostalgic feeling was comforting. you should thank him when you got better — maybe he might be interested in a popular classic novel from your home country, or should you try your luck with the lacquer pots instead?
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SHAMANE spotted a figure hunched over the running stream near his hut as he was out collecting the fresh water he would need for the day. when they didn't answer his calls, he walked over, not too worried about whether the figure was a dangerous critter or not. the snap of a twig had them spin their head in his direction — that's when he met your eyes. you both stared at the other, sizing each other up. when he decided that you were not a threat, he introduced himself with his signature smile. you did the same, albeit quieter, still a little peeved from seeing a large bearded man in the middle of nowhere. friendly as ever, he kept the conversation going. he talked about himself, he asked about you, and so on and so forth until you finally admitted to him that you had gotten lost in the mountains, also you had twisted your ankles. he pointed to his hut and asked if you wanted to rest in there until you got better, how could you say no? the month when you lived under the same roof as him passed by quickly, and soon enough it was time for you to go back down the mountain. when you both parted ways at the entrance of the village, there was an air of reluctance in saying goodbye. you promised to write to him, maybe even visit him. he only laughed you off, not expecting much to come out of that. though when he received his sister's letter not long after, he thought about taking you with him to his hometown. but ah, isn't visiting each other hometowns a thing expectant newlyweds do? well, he could always pretend he didn't know about these things, couldn't he?
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HIGURUMA was pretty friendly with the tenants renting out the office space next door. all of whom were fresh design school graduates trying to start a business together. you were the one he's grown the most familiar with, the unofficial boss of the company and the one who was single-handedly juggling your own practice along with other administrative duties. he helped you where he could, the doors to his own law office always open to you — even in the wee hours of the night. you would sit cross-legged on the big swivel chair as both of you engrossed yourselves in your respective work with the boxes of takeout splayed all over his table. when it was late enough that you missed the last train, he drove you back to your apartment. and everytime you sat in the passenger seat, he would reach over to pull the seatbelt on for you. you could have done it yourself but how were you supposed to pass up the chance to have him come this close? enough to even catch a whiff of his cologne? the lawyer himself knew that you were capable enough to do something this simple, but he couldn't help but enjoy the way you tried not to look at him as he did this each time. the ride back was quiet and serene, your tired body sank into the plush of his car seats and soon you were knocked out cold. even when you were both already parked outside your residence, you still wouldn't rouse. he clicks the seatbelt off you, even going so far as to push the seat back so you were lying more comfortably. you've done this enough times where he has a blanket to cover you with as he waited for you to wake up. which you would, and feel so ashamed. he thinks about how cute you were babbling out your apologies and thanks, all while scrambling to pull yourself together and out his car. only to repeat this whole song and dance the very next night.
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RYŪ was a bit of a recluse. never really leaving his room unless it was for a really good reason. which was rare, and by rare it was almost never. but a human had to eat, shit and get clean — which was where you came in. as the designated errand runner for the organisation, you were the one that ended up having to take care of that guy's day-to-day needs. you might have hated him at first, with how picky he was with his food, even the brand of his necessities had to be the exact right one. doesn't matter if the stock ran out, you had to go out there and haunt for a place that still has it or else he wouldn't even entertain your presence. the one good thing you had going about you was that you were adaptable, learned things quick and was light on your feet. if things went south, you always had a backup, and a backup for the backup, you get the idea. the man, mayhaps out of the other's insistence, but you liked to think that he had warmed up to you, started to initiate conversations. at some point whenever you brought him his meals, he would make you sit and watch him eat. at first, you didn't know what to talk about, but then you also started bringing your own lunchboxes to eat alongside him, and you talked his ear off about what you made that day. over time, you both fell into a routine and on days when he's kept you a little too long with him, you'd stay over and crash on his couch. and after more time had passed, he's already got some of your clothes together with his in the wardrobe. hell, he even bought a bigger sofa just so you could sleep better whenever you stayed over. give it more time and who knows, you might end up moving in completely, not that this old hack would mind too much.
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reiderwriter · 4 months
Text
My Love Is Mine All Mine
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Week 2 of my Playlist series 🎧💕
Summary: Spencer Reid always liked broken things, but you didn't think you could be fixed. Maybe all you needed was understanding and companionship.
Warnings: slight angst, case details mentioned - misogyny, kidnapping, etc, but no graphic/ explicit details. Hurt/Comfort.
A/N: Tumblr, please let me post haha I've been good, I promise 🙏 This fic is so late because I've been having some technical issues with tumblr and it has greatly annoyed me, so hopefully if you're seeing this it's been fixed? Who knows... Thank you to everyone who has sent in songs so far for the Playlist series, I'll be cresting the playlist today and posting it for everyone to see and use!
Masterlist || Series Playlist
Falling for Spencer Reid wasn't in your plan for the new year, but looking back, it was probably something that was just bound to happen. 
He'd been the first person to show you any kindness after everything you went through, the first person who hadn't put their own rigid horror at your past before their attempts at sympathy. 
You watched the way people recoiled from you as you told them - bluntly, you had to be blunt - what the man in the cabin had done to you. 
He listened to your words, didn't interrupt, didn't quietly shake in anger, and refuse to meet your eyes like your father did, didn't weep for her baby like your mother did. He took your hand as it shook. He held your gaze. 
It was his job to ask questions, but there weren't many left to answer. 
The only reason you were alive was because his team had tracked the string of bodies to your kidnappers home. You were alive because one of his coworkers had put a bullet through his head, ending your nightmare. 
The very idea of love was repulsive to you as you emerged from that basement in the first days of the next year, and you remembered thinking the snow looked fresh and soft. You remembered wanting to lay in it, to wrap it around yourself like a warm blanket and drift into sleep. The cold ground would be as much comfort as you would allow yourself. 
Because after everything, you knew you didn't deserve love. 
You accepted understanding from him, though. 
When the shock wore off, you were awash in all the misery inflicted upon you. You raged, kicked, screamed, broke things, and made people uncomfortable. Nothing would numb the pain of being trapped inside your head, your head still trapped inside that basement, that cage. 
He came to visit you at the hospital. The nurses had given up on you, were content you were physically healing, and that they had technically done their job but not bothered by your deteriorating mental state. Some days, you swore that they pierced your skin in the wrong places purposefully, not even searching for your vein. 
But then he was there, with a book and a chess board, and he'd asked you if you'd ever played before. 
“No. Chess always seemed too…” You swallowed the bile that drowned your lungs and tried again. “Before, it was boring. An old person game, too many rules. Now… He said we shouldn't do things like this. Said we shouldn't cultivate our minds.” 
It was a confession again, but one that took a weight off your shoulders, and not one that pushed it further down. 
“Would you like to learn?” His tone was so soft and awkward, like a teenage boy asking a girl out on a first date, that you almost giggled. 
“I'll be honest and say you'll never beat me, I've played through most board combinations, including a large proportion of the 10^80 theorised checkmate positions, so if you'd rather do something else, that's fine, or I can leave, too, if… you'd… prefer?” 
You had laughed then, a thing that bubbled up from the pit of your stomach and left your shoulders shaking as you gasped for breath doubled over. 
You'd been in hell for six months, and he'd drawn you out of it for a few moments by rambling about chess. 
“Are you a patient person, Doctor Reid?” 
“I think so.”
“Then set up the board and let's play.” 
He beat you every time, obviously, but you enjoyed his small explanations of the moves, and you did improve slightly. 
More than that, you enjoyed his company. It wasn't that you talked extensively In your hospital room, oscillating between your lowest point and somewhere just a rung above that where the snow was falling and the air was fresh, but that he never looked at you the way others did. 
You were discharged and were sad to lose that small glimmer of normality. He'd come twice a week throughout January, and now you were back in your usual shape. You were being discharged, and so that would end. 
You were surprised that he came to pick you up from the hospital the day you left. 
The parents who had looked everywhere for you for half a year hadn't wanted to, and the close friends from before hadn't spared you a thought since reposting your missing poster on their social media pages. 
But the man you played chess with twice a week, the man who'd carried you out of hell himself was there. 
“Ready to go?” You nodded, dumbstruck, and followed as he grabbed your bag. 
You weren't exactly sure where it was you were going, but you followed the man anyway, only a small part of your brain shouting in protest considering the last time you'd been blindly trusting.
He led you back to an apartment with some bare furnishings but a large window and a warm soft blanket covering the bed. It wasn't his, but yours. 
“Your parents are paying for it. They're taking the city to court due to the circumstances. Apparently, there were numerous phone calls to law enforcement that went unnoticed, but the city is looking to settle, so you don't have to worry about rent for a while, maybe ever again. The WiFi is all set up, hot water is working, and so is the heating. The locks are triple enforced, and I'm right down the hall, so if you need-” 
“What?” 
He blinked at you and suddenly, looking sheepish, as if becoming aware that he'd presumed a friendship between the two of you without consulting you first. 
“I live down the hall.” 
You stared at each other for a few moments as you processed his words. He lived down the hall. He'd driven you to your new home, set everything up for you, and he lived down the hall. 
“You're a good man, Spencer Reid.” You whispered, turning away to not let the moment linger anymore than it already had. 
Chess nights became routine. You'd set up the board and play for an hour or two or until you were sick of losing. 
Gradually, though, the nights got longer. He'd arrive just as you were eating a meal, and you'd invite him to join you, or he'd bring along takeaway and you'd eat quietly together, talking about everything and nothing.  
One day, you'd mentioned a film. A popular one, one you'd loved as a child and still rewatched to this day. 
“I've never seen it, is it good?” He'd said. And in your shock, you jumped up and sent half the chessboard flying. 
“Well, it seems that now our game is over, that we have time to give you an education, Doctor Reid.” 
“I have three PhD's-” 
“And still you haven't seen Clueless?” 
You'd pulled him over to the couch he'd picked out for you, loaded up the movie and then invented a new tradition. 
Chess nights and film nights were separate days of the week. So he could always promise to be around for one of them even if he had to miss the other because of work. 
You didn't ask him about his job anymore. He saved people like you, and you didn't need to be thinking about people like you too much.
What they went through, if they survived physically. If they survived in other ways. 
He always visited you first when he returned, though. There would be a knock on your door at some point in the day or night, and he'd let you know he was home safe. 
Another tradition. You'd opened the door to let him in the first time he'd returned from a case after you moved in, and he'd leaned down and wrapped his arms around you. 
You heard the breath of relief, loud and emotional, and hadn't quite realised it had come from you until a few minutes later. Some part of you had thought he wouldn't come back. 
Now, every time he came home, you ran to the door and quietly comforted each other, reminding the other that no matter what happened, you were both there for each other. 
You weren't sure when traditions and movies turned into love or if it had lingered over you the entire time. You didn't think you could love someone right then, your heart broken into small pieces with the torment you'd suffered. 
But it was stitched back together with pieces of him still lodged inside. He was in the very fabric of your being as you became whole again. 
The truth was that you most likely couldn't find love again because there was no room in your heart for anyone else. And you'd never be able to reschedule chess nights to go on dates anyway. 
You weren't sure if Spencer ever figured out how much of hum you carried around with him, how your eyes followed his lips as he ran through decades of memories to give you the fact he thought would please you the most. You weren't sure if he loved you as much as you did him until you were.
You'd agreed to watch one of his movies for a change, agreeing to stop the streak of 80s brat pack classics to watch a black and white war film from Russia with no subtitles. You'd sat together on that couch under blankets you'd bought together months earlier, and he'd pulled you in closer.
“I want to watch the movie and translate at the same time. You should sit here.” He'd pulled you into his lap, letting your back fall against his chest as his lips fell to your ears, and he began to whisper. 
Sitting there so closely, so intimately, was almost torture. Unconsciously, your head tipped back with his words, displaying your neck and shoulders, silently willing his lips to drift even once. His arms wrapped around your waist, and you did your best not to squirm the entire movie, but with your heart beating out of your chest, it was a hopeless cause. 
“Did you enjoy it?” He whispered as the credits rolled, but you hadn't even noticed the movie had ended. It wasn't until the silence that followed his question stretched out notably that you came back to reality. You couldn't answer, in fact. You gaped for a few short moments, hoping something vague but accurate enough would just pop into your mind. 
As you attempted to negotiate yourself out of distraction, you turned your face to his, but he was closer than you thought.
Your noses touched, and your breaths mingled. His arms still wrapped around your waist, and your blankets still anchored you to one another. 
“I wasn't paying attention to the movie, Spencer. I'm sorry.” The words came out of you so fast, yet so quietly that you were surprised yourself how honest you had chosen to be. 
“Why not?” He asked, eyes having drifted sleepily down to gaze at your lips. 
You didn't answer his question but felt your cheeks flush red. You thought about pulling away, moving back, or at least laughing everything off, but you didn't. You stayed there, still like a deer in headlights. 
“Your voice was too distracting,” You forced some of the tension out of your body and let your head fall against his shoulder again, hoping this moment wouldn't end anytime soon. 
“Distracting?” He sounded concerned and shifted in his seat, lifting you up from your happy place in his arms until you were again face to face. “Did I make you uncomfortable?” 
The look on his face was so concerned and focused that you had to pause for a second to catch your breath. He cared about your comfort so much and paid attention to each word that came out of your mouth. He wanted your happiness more than anything in the world. 
“No. I'm never uncomfortable with you, Spencer.” You were back to whispering now, hands floating up to grab his own, fidgeting by his sides. You bought them up to your face and guided his hands to your cheeks, needing to show him just how comfortable you were with him in actions, not just words. Words could be dishonest. Actions were honest. 
His concern melted away as he began stroking your cheek with his thumb, smiling sweetly at you. 
Though you were both content, you'd never been quite this intimate before. So when his thumb swiped over the corner of your lips, your eyes both caught on each other. You could see him weighing up the outcomes in his head, going back and forth between pulling away and pushing in closer.
Slowly and softly, as though he were trying not to startle you, his head moved closer until his lips were on yours. 
It was a quiet kiss. You wouldn't describe it as fireworks, or butterflies, or anything loud and grand and passionate. It was quiet, and it was right. 
He pulled away seconds later, trying to gauge your reaction, but you followed him away and kissed him again. 
When you finally pulled away, it took you a few seconds to realise you'd climbed back into his lap, unconsciously having moved closer to him. You guiltily looked up, waiting to see any discomfort on his features, but to your surprise, he was busy straightening out your hair. 
“I love you, Spencer,” you whispered as he took care of you. He smiled, looking down at you once again, pulling his arms around you to gently lower both of you down to a laying position on your couch. 
“I love you, too,” he said as you held each other and drifted into contented sleep.
627 notes · View notes
itsjustaninchident · 6 months
Text
Starlight☆
Lando Norris x Model!Wife!Reader
smau
summary: Getting married means having children.... Or not? 5 months into marriage and a lot of hate and pressure has been thrown on the couple. A part 2 of To the Moon and To Saturn.
warning/s: sexual innuendos, misogynistic comments, hate comments (tell me if I missed something)
author's note: This is the most tedious and longest work I've probably done here 😭 I definitely enjoyed doing this, I enjoy reading comments from you guys and also requests are always open, I'm just not fast in making it but I'll definitely do your requests🤍
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 1,321,987 others
yourusername oh sorry can't find it on the mirror where I gaf
view 63,483 comments...
user1 THE IT GIRL OF THIS GENERATION
user2 THE FUTURE KIDS WOULD SAY THEY WERE BORN IN THE WRONG GENERATION UPON SEEING THIS GIRL IN THE FUTURE
user3 scrolling through the pictures slay after slay and then lando norris
user4 i still can't believe they're married
user5 Can't wrap my head around how a man who drives for a living is dating the hottest girl alive
landonorris can't believe it either
user6 at least he's self aware
user7 you're both hot tbf
user8 why are hot people only for hot people
user9 this is just too cute
user10 their kids are gonna be good looking istg
user11 I mean the parents are both good looking so
user12 can't wait omg they're gonna look so cute😭
yourusername respectfully, no.
user13 oh.
user14 is this how I confirm they both don't want children😭
user15 yn shutting off comments suggesting kids for both of them😭 she's just like me fr
user16 yn is so real for that😭 she def saw that tiktok girl with the list
user17 THE WORLD IS SIMPLY NOT READY FOR THIS GIRL😭
user18 haters are found in the ditch i fear
landonorris
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liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 1,239,876 others
landonorris P2 in Singapore!❤️
view 32,987 comments...
user1 congrats lando!!!
user2 definitely deserve!
user3 why is yn not present in the sg gp?
landonorris she's busy with work :)
user4 shouldn't yn be present to her husband's races, she like missed 4 races already?
user5 girl she can't possibly be with him all the damn time😭 she's got work too
user6 leave yn alone, she literally go all out whenever she can support lando in his races
landonorris she supports me even though she's across the world, it's not her responsibility to go to every race and she has her own work to tend to.
user7 GAGGED!
user8 when he never lets anyone talk shit about you>>>>
user9 they definitely deserve each other
user10 can people stop demanding for yn and just congratulate lando😭 leave the girl alone she's not doing anything to y'all
yourusername CONGRATS BABY! any requests? ;)
user11 HE'S DEF GETTING IT😭
landonorris i think i've made it clear on chat🤔
yourusername assertive, i like it🫡
user12 STOP BEING HORNY ON MAIN?
user13 they're literally unstoppable 😭
yourusername
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liked by lilymhe, landonorris, and 976,890 others
yourusername let me fix my shoes first
view 21,765 comments...
lilymhe can u please divorce the L word and elope with me?
yourusername contacting the lawyers📞
landonorris HEY!!
alexalbon maybe we're the ones meant for each other, mate
user1 L WORD?!😭
user2 this is actually alex's karma for calling his girlfriend the squid game girl😭
user3 personally would be my last straw
user4 why is yn always outside, can't even become a decent wife and do her chores
user5 women should just stay in the house and cook.
yourusername you should try a challenge
user5 and what is that?
yourusername it's called shutting tf up
user6 GET HIMMMM
user7 you idiots, that's literally her job she needs to constantly attend events and model products she's not outside for NOTHING, unlike you.
user8 maybe that's why they don't have kids together lol he definitely would divorce her later on
yourusername checked your profile, looks like you're not even close to getting your first girlfriend
user9 HELP😭 OMG I LIVE FOR UNFILTERED YN😭
user10 these disgusting comments about yn... she's so strong to be able to handle all of these hate just because she's married to a well-known athlete.
user11 the absolute sickening moments ever for women, we can't have anything. The world does not want us to be happy.
user12 true, makes me think how she even deserves all the hate comments when she's been the nicest, most supportive, and loving partner to lando
user13 the answer is easy, she's a woman who married a man. All these men who never grew out of their highschool phase suddenly think they've got the right to talk shit about her just because she married their favorite athlete🙄
user14 YN CAN YOU PLEASE STEP ON ME
user15 calm down girl, my boyfriend's on this app🥵
yourusername oh honey, if your boyfriend admires other girls he's not your boyfriend anymore
user15 IM JUST KIDDING I DON'T HAVE A BOYFRIEND YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE I WANT
user16 she's an it girl and a girl's girl🫡
user17 she really said don't let any man disrespect u
via interview...
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via twitter...
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via article...
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via twitter...
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris, carmmenmundt, and 2,309,674 others
yourusername baby #1 full of food
view 23,029 comments...
landonorris can't believe this is how I find out I'm gonna be a dad
yourusername thanks for feeding me ig now u're gonna have to take full responsibility
landonorris i fully accept becoming a father of food
user0 idk what's up with these two😭
user-1 they're literally the perfect match both of them goofy af
yourfriend is this for real?!
yourusername no bae ;)
yourfriend AMEN
user1 not yn trolling the whole damn nation only for it to be a food baby😭
user2 this is what the media gets for pressuring them into becoming parents when clearly they want a different path lol
user3 true, they've made it clear numerous times already that they want to enjoy their married life more and not involve kids in the process
user4 they're so real for that
user5 I remember in an interview of yn with the same question and she said something like "I just feel like in this day and age, having children isn't a priority for most people of this generation and I'm glad that most of us are realizing how big of a deal it is to have children and deciding to not bring them in this world when we are very self aware of our capabilities. It's time we should stop pressuring couples, more so women in giving birth because it's not the only thing we're here for."
user6 SHE'S SO SLAY?!
user7 MY ELOQUENT QUEEN
user8 slay after slay
user9 everyday i have to be reminded that im actually not married to yn and we dont have 4 kids tgt
user10 SHE'S LEGIT SO ICONIC FOR THIS😭
user11 a slap on the face for those nosy people up in their business
hope y'all actually enjoyed this as much as I did writing it😭 comments are highly appreciated 🫶 lovelots♡
888 notes · View notes
taylormarieee · 2 months
Text
Not so tough now huh? CRM!Rick
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A/N: ok so I watched the first episode and I just felt the urge to write for him immediately. I couldn't resist... so here you sluts go! enjoy and happy reading!&lt;33 This is also based on this moodboard made by the lovely @angelicalhqrt
Summary: You were tough but Rick was tougher and afterall, you were still just a horny girl...
Word count:2.0k
Pairing: crm!rick x fem!fighter!reader
Warnings: smut~fighting~sexual tension~readers tough but Ricks tougher~horny thoughts~lots of yearning and physical touch~PiV sex~unprotected sex~(wrap it b4 you tap it)~slight age gap { readers in her early 30s and Rick is mid 40s}
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You and Rick didn't get along. Well, you guys got along but you didn't at the same time if that makes any sense at all.
You both couldn't stand each other yet always found yourselves around each other. It's like you were constantly drawn to him and as he was to you.
It seemed as if you guys had this mutual respect to leave each other alone but in this line of work, you guys were always around one another.
Especially now that Okafor has asked you and Rick to work together to re-shape the CRM. He wants the A's to be able to lead the CRM and change the way they do things. Lead the B's to stop being so scared.
Of course Rick was against it and was very confused. "I don't give a shit about this A's and B's shit Okafor. I'm not livin' here! I'm not happy here, I'm certainly not going to give my life for a place I can't leave. For a place and their bullshit secrets." He protests.
"Rick. You think you have a choice? Now that you joined and are no longer a consignee, I need you. You will do this because you shouldn't even be alive with how many times you've tried to escape. You and bullet over here are special assets to this plan and whether you like it or not, your doing this."
Bullet was the nickname he gave you because you shot at him and grazed his forehead after he tried to rescue you. You needed to get back to your sister, you didn't want to be taken by a strange man and taken to a strange secret city that no one knows about.
"Rick. Just stop fighting it. I learned to stop fighting it long time ago. We've been here for six years. It's time to let go. Whoever your trying to get to just forget it. There alive but in here we can die at the snap of Beales fingers. So please..." You plead looking at him with a stone cold face but a hint of sympathy and concern.
"Whatever." He says gruffly before listening to the rest of what Okafor was saying.
The next day you and Rick and all the other soldiers are training. Obviously yet again, you get partnered with Rick. Your spinning your knife in your hand as you look at him with a slight smirk on your face.
You lunged at him and he blocked it and when you tried again he turned you around and had his arm around your neck and your back to his chest. You feel his warm breath on your cheek.
Your wiggling against him and he grunts in your ear. You try to pry his hand off your neck and flip him over and down to the ground but it was true, he was tougher and much stronger than you.
He pushes you and lets you go. you stumble but turn around standing your ground and facing him with your knife in hand and fists up. You lunge back at him and cut his hand, the one that's still attached of course.
He groans and holds his wrist. "Fuck." He yells out and you smirk at him. "Wouldn't fighting be much easier if you didn't cut off your hand Mr. Grimes?" You say with a slight chuckle.
He quickly turns back and the punches you in your face. You stumble back and wipe the blood that's made its way to your lip.
"Wow. That was a hell of a good punch Grimes." You say smirking and licking your lips. "Thanks bullet." He says smirking at you with his signature look.
You roll your eyes and punch his chest and he tries to hit you again but your duck and serve him a nice right hook. He stumbles back and when you try to punch his face again he grabs your right fist and slowly brings it down twisting it and hurting your wrist.
When you try the other hand to catch him off guard he dodges it and knees you in your stomach before punching your ribs.
You cry out and he lets go of your hand as you grab at your side and stomach. You glare at him from your hunched over position and then you swiftly get down and swipe your leg under his making fall.
You get on top of him and punch him in the face. You see his nose bleeding and his cheek is starting to bruise. You punch once more before a guard yells at you enough.
You get off Rick and look around at everyone looking at you before you look back at Rick on the floor and you scoff before walking away and slamming the door as you walk out.
You take the wrappings aggressively off your hands as you walk to your room. 'At least you had rooms and comfy beds here', you thought.
Where you came from you had to make do with dusty comforters and blankets on the cold, hard floor of an old abandoned building.
At least you had your sister, now you have no clue where she is... Broken out of your thoughts you hear a knock on the door.
You ignore it the first time quietly muttering a go away. When the knocks happen again you groan and get up.
As you open the door your met with Rick pushing past you and rushing into your room.
He's got a patch on his eyebrow to close up his wound with the stitches and his cheekbone is now bruised a darker color then before. Even his hand is all bandaged up.
"What the hell was that huh? Why'd ya go all psyco on me? What did I do to you huh?" He says pacing the room as he thrashes his hands around.
"I did it... because I wanted to." You whisper as you step closer to him with a neutral look on your face. You were unfazed by his act at trying to intimidate you.
"Oh really huh?" He asks stepping real close to you. Suddenly you really notice how dark his eyes are.
Even in this piss poor lighting. He looked looming and scary. Your facade falters immediately as he backs you up against the door.
The tension in the room changing slightly from anger to something more intimate...more primal. It excited you yet scared you.
You really didn't know Rick like that at all. You don't know how crazy he is- I mean besides the fact he cut off his own hand.
Your thoughts began to drift at how he looks. His brown curls framing his face perfectly, his beard full, nice and clean with greys decorating it.
You looked at the outfit he was wearing. A tight black shirt that hugged his body in all the right places with black cargo pants.
He looked...hot. Intimidating.Sexy. Dominant...I mean there were many words to describe Rick. He brought something out of you that you didn't like. He made you excited and wet at the slightest touch.
This interaction bringing back memories to 3 days ago.
{Flashback}
"Rick! Wait up!" You call out to him.
He was walking down the street in his combat outfit.
"Wassup bullet?" He asked with that look in his eyes. 'God that look does things to me,' you thought.
He looked like he wanted to throw you against the wall and eat you.
"I-I wanted to say good luck out there. Okafor can be pushing and hard to deal with." You say with a closed lip smile.
He nods and looks you up and down before speaking, "Thanks for the luck. I assumed i'll be needin' it. Especially by you." He says smirking at you.
That's the moment you knew that he knew, that he knows he makes you nervous. He would make any girl nervous. Eyelashes fluttering at the sound of his rough southern drawl. Sounding all sexy and wise.
That deep voice and pretty smirk on his face. The way his eyes will trace your body and your face as if he's remembering every tiny detail about you like a robot.
You swallow hard and you swear he could hear your heart rapidly beating, 'God girl get it together!' You immediately nodded your head before walking off and leaving him to stand there.
He watched as you walked away all flustered and cute. He chuckled to himself as you looked back and watched him walk away now.
{end of flashback}
You look up at him as he looks down at you with a smirk. His head tilted slightly to the side.
"Whatcha thinking about sweetheart?" He asks with a smirk. You roll your eyes and scoff trying to act tough.
"Nothing Rick. Get out." You demanded as you pushed past him walking towards your bed.
You didn't notice he was silently following you and he ended up behind you with his crotch to your ass and his hands on your hips.
"Why don't you stop this tough act baby and lemme take you right here hmm mama? Would you like that instead? Fuck that attitude right outta ya?" He says in a low seductive voice.
Shivers ran down your back as he said that. His words repeating like a mantra in your head over and over again. You wanted so badly for him to take you right here.
"fuck, yea I want that real bad." You mutter and he smirks as he starts kissing your neck and behind you ear. He slides his pants down and rips his cock free from the bondage of his boxers.
He removes your pants leaving you in your panties. When he slowly removes your panties they reveal your soaked cunt.
"Fuck mama, your soaked." He says with a chuckle. You whimper and grind against him. "Please Rick...I need you i-inside." You whine.
He chuckles and without warning slides in. As much as he wants to tease you, he doesn't have the patience tonight. Maybe next time..
Just thinking about being able to fuck you like this again, his hips roughly thrusting into you as your eyes roll to the back of your head or cross at your nose made his cock twitch.
Just looking at your body exposed and vulnerable to him made his cock jump with excitement to be buried so deep inside you. He kissed and sucked at yor neck leaving hickies people will surely be asking about later.
He was proud to mark you up as his. You cry out and scream out as his cock brushes your cervix just right. His cock hitting that sweet spot inside you that had you shaking intensely when your orgasm rolled around.
"fuck Rick! I-I'm gonna c-cum Rick! Oh shit, please lemme cum!" You beg. He looked at you and pouted.
"You wanna cum babygirl? Hmm?" He asks tauntingly. You quickly shake your head yes as he shakes his head and clicks his tongue. "Words baby. I need words." He said moving his hand up your chest slowly to lightly grip your throat.
You moan out as you grab his arm and your eyes roll back before you mutter out a little, "Yes Rick! I'm gonna cum, please?" You beg again hoping he has mercy on you.
"I'll allow you to cum but next time I won't be so nice babygirl." He says before thrusting into you with such force it makes your headboard thump against the wall.
You didn't want a noise complaint but the way your oragsm ripped through you, you honestly couldn't care.
"oh fuck!" Rick grunts out before he quickly pulls out and jerks off. You quickly scoot down and open your mouth for him to cum all on your face and tongue. You moan in pleasure as his warm seed spills all on your face.
When you swallow the amount that went into your mouth, you smile at him before licking the rest of by using your finger to apply it in your mouth.
He groans at the sight and he lifts you up placing you neatly and softly on your bed. Your so drunk off his cock that when he goes to try and get a warm cloth for you you grab his arm stopping him.
"Please stay with me. I don't wanna be alone... not tonight." You whisper. He smiles and nods before crawling his way into bed with you rubbing soft circles on your waist as you drift of to sleep.
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Taglist: @dustbunniess @dollyfl1rt @rickswh0r3 @sinsandsweetness @justjasminne @itzdarling @versatilehater @aerangi @2svnder @keiva1000 @prettyluhdavis@hutchersonsgurl @grimesuniversexx @liliesdiary @writella
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sukunasweetheart · 7 months
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the urge to throw trueform sukuna into the shoujo manga genre....
(fem!reader, sexual undertones towards the end)
it would be so funny yet so beautiful...i also think he would look so great in that flowery, feminine kind of artstyle <3-
in terms of cliche shoujo love interest, he's a lonely immortal god who is against everything that supports the notion of love... until he experiences what true love is like, for himself. you're his little servant toy that he mingles with for some time, until he realises something's wrong with his heart...
i love him for what he is, but wouldnt it also be lovely to see him in a softhearted story?? the almighty and powerful, but grows weak in the knees all because of one woman!
one day, imagine if he, the most renowned selfish man, with complete disregard for others, who had always valued himself vastly more than anyone else, comes to a point where he sees you in the way of an unstoppable attack from the wrath of an enemy, and rushes in to tank the would-have-been-fatal strike in your stead...
it happened in an instant. he didnt even realise he was moving until he had already been hit. he's bleeding for the first time in a thousand years. he's hit, and it should hurt, it should feel unpleasant, because he certainly wasnt planning to be hit, nor did he engage in this fight for his own pleasure, but for your protection.
yet, he feels relieved. you're tucked behind him safely, looking up at him with worried eyes, and he feels relieved, all because a weakling like you is alive.
after he sends you away to uraume (who gives you the stink eye), he promptly kills the opponent but becomes a little weakened temporarily afterwards as a result of the powerful attack
he's absolutely grumpy about having to be bedridden for a few days for recovery, often stares down at you with unreadable eyes, like he's in deep contemplation about his own feelings
oh fuck me, he thinks, when he finds himself wanting to comfort you as you're in tears over him, even though he's the one that's hurt.
its a confusing sensation, feeling like shit but also not hating everything about being in the centre of your concerns. look at you, feeling so guilty, so worried sick, fussing over him. as you should. he mulls over the incident where he uncharacteristically jumped in to protect you... but he's not one to over complicate things for too long. he'll just continue to do as he pleases, just like before. and if that involves showing you some affection, kissing you, holding your hand, shielding you from his woes... then so be it. if he's the strongest, if he's a god, shouldn't he also be able to save such a frail thing as you?
he orders for your presence in his bed to keep him entertained, but he doesn't even say a word when you're there laying next to him, he's only just staring at you and giving curt touches, like your body is a plaything to him. maybe palms your thighs and breasts, but it doesn't feel sexual at all.
"it's not so bad, having you in my debt," he suddenly says, as sukuna plays around with a lock of your hair. these new feelings he harbors, intrigues him just as much as they irritate him.
"i do owe you my life..." you tell him in response.
"so you're aware. and? what will you do about it?" he asks you.
"i'm not sure, my lord... what would you like me to do?"
"how sly of you, turning the question back onto me."
he thinks about it for a moment.
"well, i suppose there's nothing you could offer me but yourself," he says as he slowly undoes your robe, the other free hand grabbing your face.
"...and your everlasting devotion, to me."
as he's about to sit up to continue, your tiny hand pushes against his chest in resistance.
"you mustn't exert yourself, your wounds are still healing, my lord," you protest, much to his annoyance.
"cease your fretting. movement of this degree isn't enough to hurt me," sukuna sighs, grabbing your wrist and pinning it down against the sheets.
"i... i can do the moving," you tell him with determination, which earns you can amused smile.
"...oh? now that's certainly worth considering," he says, slowly letting go of you.
you carefully get up to straddle the larger man, sitting yourself down on his hips.
"alright then, my brave little devotee. entrance me."
and you do just that for him, all throughout the night. (it wasn't the first time, and it certainly wont be the last)
sukuna learns all about how some fragile things are worth keeping around.
at first, the relationship revolves solely around his own pleasure and satisfaction. but as the ice begins to melt, he sinks into a trap in which he's seeking more and more to keep your own happiness and your beautiful smile in place. he begins to hurt when you're hurting. it was exactly as he feared - his life becoming molded around one singular person who's somehow crawled their way into his heart-- his heart that should've been sealed tight.
at times, when his teasing goes too far, and your bright expressions dissolve into sorrow, his own mood drops considerably and there comes seeping in a crushing feeling in his chest.
he lifts your face up by the chin and says; "i'm only joking. don't make such a pitiful face."
but when he realises that you were merely feigning your hurt, giving him a little cheeky grin, he flies into a quick, but playful anger.
"you little minx. i've spoiled you a little too much haven't i? you're getting ahead of yourself."
he proceeds to lift you up into his arms, an extra hand keeping your wrists together, as he aims to litter his bite marks down your neck and shoulder.
"aah! forgive me, my lord!" you exclaim, writhing around in his tight grip.
but there's an audible giggle in your voice.
Masterlist
tagging; @vagabond-umlaut @yuujispinkhair @satkuna @skunaskitten @sukunastoy @theprettyarachnid @sunshine7queen @gojos-thot-patrol
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