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#where I just need to push through and write everything out and then edit and post
skyward-floored · 2 months
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Ah which wip should I try to fight with
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l0v3tast3 · 11 months
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i need pervy older bf konig :(
good god. bro you and i are both so lucky i had today off. this was some good shit to write thank you very much for requesting this ( ◡‿◡ *) also ngl i really think i just don't know how to write characters not being possessive. it's just in my dna
✎ tags: mdni!, smut, female reader, age gap (reader is 18/19, könig is mid-40's), mentioned loss of virginity, corruption/innocence kink, size difference, size kink, pet names, free use, posssessive!könig, exhibitionism, mention of violence (reader gets turned on by it dw), edging, dacryphilia, bondage, praise kink, reader calls könig "sir"
✎ word count: 1.4k words (not proofread)
✎ translations: "hase" = bunny , "liebling" = darling "mein schatz" = my darling/sweetheart , "mein herz" = my heart "mein kleiner hase" = my little bunny (please correct me if anything is wrong, i'll edit it whenever i get the chance!)
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✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!könig who is just obsessed with his darling little girlfriend. he loves everything about you, how small you are against him, how easy you are to manhandle and twist around, so happy to just have him touch you however he wants. how you always crane your neck up to look at him with such adoration in your pretty eyes, even when he makes you do the nastiest things for him.
✧ ˖ ° ever since the first time he sunk into you, your first time where you couldn't even take his whole dick (it took you a few rounds to fit it all in), he just can't get enough of you. the whimper when he pops his fat head through your tiny hole, how you dig your nails in and gasp for breath the further he pushes in, it's straight up addicting to him. könig's favorite thing is seeing you fall deeper and deeper into the pleasure he gives you, seeing you become more and more corrupted by his huge hands and cock.
✧ ˖ ° he's got such a kink for your innocence and naivety; his heart skips a beat every time you think it can't get any better, and then it does and your little body doesn't even know how to handle it. könig will try every position, every kink his expansive mind can come up with with you.
✧ ˖ ° it always starts with him pulling you over one of his thighs (it strains your legs too much to try and sit over both of them without his help) and him dragging your hips back and forth across it. his hands cover the entire expanse of your thighs and the globes of your ass, fingertips digging in until it's just on the edge of bruising. always soaking up your little whimpers, how you dig your nails into his shoulders and hide your face in his chest. "hase, my little bunny, does that feel good? look at me, liebling, answer me. always so shy when i have you like this. it feels good, yes? are you going to cum for me? heh, what is it, you need more, liebling? ask me nicely for more, then."
✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!könig who steals your underwear and most of the clothes you pack when you come over and pretends to have no idea where it all went. oh well, guess you'll just have to wear his clothes! it's such a shame that you don't have any underwear left until he does the laundry that he keeps "forgetting" about. it's so sad that you have nothing clean left to wear except his t-shirts that almost reach your knees.
✧ ˖ ° he just loves being able to come up to you in the kitchen, lift you up onto the island counter and run his hands up your thighs until his thumb covers your clit. you always get so squirmy when he does that, bucking your hips into his hand and clawing at his arm. könig chuckles and teases you about how needy you are for him, how you're such a dirty little girl for walking around with no underwear. "don't you know how men are, mein schatz? they'll snatch you up every chance they get," he mutters in your ear, the hand that wasn't shoving two fingers into you gripping your hip to keep you still.
✧ ˖ ° when you start stuttering out little pleas and fumbling with his belt he relents. he pushes you flat against the counter and kneels to lick a sloppy stripe up your pussy, never forgetting his dedication to not hurting you (not in a way you didn't like, at least). and when he's finally lifting your hips up to line up your sopping hole with his dick, he tells you how much of a good girl you are for letting him use you like this, whenever he wants.
✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!könig who gets off on having you sit on his lap in public; in front of anyone, really. könig knows that his overwhelming size and heavy stare makes him live up to his name of "king", and having a pretty little thing like you in his lap just completes the picture. he doesn't admit it, but you know it's an ego boost for him every time.
✧ ˖ ° it just makes him so happy to have you so close! he tells you it helps him with his social anxiety, having you there to calm him down. especially when he invites over his friends, other colonels and military men. könig knows you always feel out of place, feeling like you're going to hear something you shouldn't. he just coos reassurances in your ears and rubs his hands up and down your thighs, fingertips grazing just below the hem of the pretty dress he had asked you to put on. "relax, hase, it's okay for you to be here. mein schatz, mein herz, you know i would never let anyone harm you. i would break their neck before they even came close."
✧ ˖ ° you somehow always end up trying to discreetly white-knuckle his wrist that's buried between your legs. könig plays poker with the rest of the men, pretending very well that three of his fingers aren't knuckle deep inside you. everyone knows, they grow to expect it at this point. you're just so obvious, squirming and glancing up at him anxiously and trying desperately to cover up the tiny moans you let out. then he'll finally lean down and whisper in your ear, telling you to be good and cum; you can't possibly hide the way you shake and arch your back or the choked whimpers. but the men carry on with their game, barely sparing a second glance at you (they still shift in their seats, sneak a hand down to readjust), talking amongst themselves.
✧ ˖ ° "you see, mein kleiner hase, they know to not even look at you too long. they know you're mine, just well as you do, right?" könig says lowly while he wipes his fingers off on your thighs. he's pulling you closer to him so you can feel the outline of his hardon pressed against your ass. you nod and mumble a little "yes, sir" and he pats your stomach where he's holding you against him. "good girl. don't worry, liebling, we are almost done here. i'll stuff you full soon enough, just be patient a little longer."
✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!könig who always has nothing but praise for you except for when you act up. he wasn't the kind of man to take insubordination lightly usually; you couldn't be if you wanted to be a colonel. instead of his usual punishments (making subordinates run suicides until they dropped) he likes tying you down and edging you until you're sobbing for him to let you cum, to untie you, anything.
✧ ˖ ° it's not that he enjoys seeing you cry (he loves it in this context), he just needs to teach you a lesson, to make sure you know your bratty actions have consequences. it just brings könig so much joy to reduce you to a brainless, overstimulated mess, whining pleas between hiccups and gasps for air. hearing you cry out, "no- nono please könig, please sir m'sorry, m'so sorry! ha-a- please, please let me cum, m'sorry, please-", is like an angel's choir to his ears. he knows you think he's being cruel and unfair, but könig is always going easy on you. you still are his sweet little girl, after all, he could never hurt you too much!
✧ ˖ ° he won't let up though until he's making you say whatever nasty things he wants, until you're so desperate that you completely forget about being shy. "have i taught you your lesson, hase? hm, i don't know if you have yet. tell me what you want- i know you want to cum, liebling, what do you want me to do about that? you want me to fuck you? ask properly, tell me you want my thick cock in your tiny pussy. you need it, don't you? tell me you need it, you need to feel me deep inside you. hah, alright mein kleiner hase, i believe you. it's alright, shh, mein herz, you did so well for me, let me reward you now."
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strawberrysturniolo · 5 months
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fic reqqq
can you pretty pretty please write a fluffy kind of sleep aid fic w chris where yall cuddle in bed tgth and u start snoozing and he tucks u in and everything🫶 np if not your writing is actually so bomb like everytime i see a new post from u i start foaming @ the mouth like a rabid dog and gnawing on my enclosure 😭
sleepy // bf!chris
soft chris
summary: you spend the day filming with your boyfriend and his brothers and can't wait to go home and snuggle in bed with him.
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The entirety of my day has been spent following my boyfriend, Chris, and his brothers around while they film. 
We started our day by getting lunch at a local diner, did some shopping afterwards at a flea market, then finished the night off with a few rounds at Top Golf.
“Good job, babe!” I cheer my boyfriend on as he makes a perfect swing.
He turns around grinning before handing his club to his brother, Matt. “That was pretty good, right?!” He sits down next to me and tosses his arm around my shoulder. I tilt my head to the left so it lays perfectly on him, and he pulls me closer, kissing the top of my head. When his other brother, Nick, leaves the table to film Matt’s turn, Chris leans into me, whispering, “I really appreciate you coming out with us today.”
My exhaustion is evident. I thoroughly enjoy spending time with them on days where they are filming, and while I’m usually hidden somewhere off-camera to maintain privacy, it’s still fun to watch my boyfriend do something he loves, and interesting to see him at work. I have to say, walking around all day so they can get content in, and now sitting down watching them golf only reminds me of how tired I am. 
“Sleepy, baby?” he asks, nudging me lightly when he sees my eyes falling shut. 
“Mhm,” I hum into his shoulder. 
“I’m sorry. I know it’s been a long day.”
He uses his left hand to carefully push my hair out of my face, using his other hand to pull me closer to him, falling asleep right at the table. 
“Alright Chris,” Nick calls out. “It’s your turn, come on.”
I can feel Chris’ head turn a few times, looking between me and his brothers. “Can you go for me? I don’t really want to get up.”
I struggle to push myself up because of how tired I am, but I manage. “No, go play. We’re almost done anyway. I just need to stick it out until we get home and I’ll sleep well tonight.” 
“Are you sure?” 
I nod, not wanting to kill the mood for them. 
He delicately kisses my forehead before tossing his arms around his brothers, his energy back to 100% when the camera is on him.
One thing about Chris is, no matter how private he wants our relationship to be, he will always find a way to show some sort of PDA when we’re around people. Whether it’s holding my hand, putting an arm around me, having me wear his clothes. He may not fully makeout with me in a public setting, but he’ll still kiss my forehead and hold me in his arms so everyone can see how much he loves me without losing an element of our intimacy. 
The boys finish up their game, and when we head back to Matt’s car, he suggests we go to get a late breakfast tonight. I of course am mid-yawn when this comes up.
“Why don’t we head home?” Chris counters. “We already have a lot of footage from today, and if we need more we still have tomorrow.”
Matt groans, but when Nick sees me half-asleep in the backseat next to him, he sides with Chris. “He’s right. Let me work through this footage tonight and see if we need to go back out tomorrow before we end up with an hour long vlog that will take me an extra day to edit.”
I end up passing out asleep on the drive back despite it only being 15 minutes. I’m lightly shaken awake and greeted by my boyfriend’s hushed whisper. 
“Baby, let’s get you inside okay? We’re home and you can sleep in bed.” He unbuckles my seatbelt and carefully leads me out of the car and inside the house, guiding me downstairs with his arm around me. “Go change into your pajamas.”
I pull out a Fresh Love set from his closet and toss my clothes from today into the hamper while Chris is in the bathroom. He comes out with makeup wipes and pulls one from the package. 
“I can do that,” I say quietly. 
“No, I want to.” He flattens out the makeup wipe and gently rubs my face with it, checking it every few seconds to make sure the product is coming off on it. “You’ve had a long day and it’s partly my fault. Let me do this and then you can brush your teeth and wash your face.”
Another minute passes before Chris discards the now used makeup wipe into the trash. I then head into the bathroom and wash off any remaining makeup and brush my teeth, climbing into bed once I’m done. 
Chris follows me through all those steps, laying in bed next to me and smirking at my choice of pajamas. “I love when you wear these.” I have no energy left in me to speak. I simply nod and hope he can read my mind. His fingers trace my face as I doze off, slowly going in and out of my slumber. His arms wrap around me and pull me into him, and my face nuzzles into his chest. He uses one hand to push the covers into our bodies, tucking us in and keeping us warm while the ceiling fan balances the temperature out. 
He places one more kiss on my head as he rubs his hands over my back.
“I love you so much,” he whispers into my hair. 
I mumble a muffled, “I love you,” back to him before falling asleep for the night, the last thing I remember being him holding me tight and feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. 
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obae-me · 10 days
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I have been asked to expand on the MC with trauma scenarios, and you know what, I need the comfort, so let's do it! (No these are not based on myself, I don't know what you're talking about....)
Also I've seen a ton of people's responses to the last one and just know that I am spiritually patting you all on the head and wrapping a soft blanket around your shoulders.
--
MC with ~Trauma~ PT 2!
Imagine an MC who has been mocked, berated, or criticized for their joys and hobbies. They don't do those things anymore or go to great lengths to hide them.
They never share their writing or their art with anyone. They are surrounded by demons and angels much more talented than them. The thing that they felt they were moderately talented in is below average compared to these beings... Everything they create is hidden in secret digital folders or kept in notebooks under their mattress or tucked in secret spots on their bookshelves.
They never sing or dance or play their instruments. They almost avoid the music room altogether. It's almost too painful for them to think about. If they attend a dance they just stand off to the sides... They don't participate in karaoke. They don't hum to their favorite songs.
They hardly cook, or garden, or read, or edit, or color, or knit, or crochet, or embroider, or anything else that they might enjoy.
Imagine some of the nosier brothers not realizing the pain that hides behind their passions and either playfully spying on them or digging up their secrets. Their hearts are fully destroyed when their human breaks down in tears. Now, every single day, every character encourages them to do what they love and giving them private time and space to do it in a place where they feel safe. They all hope that maybe one day MC will feel comfortable enough to share what they love with them but they will never pry it out of them, and all the while giving them the support they need behind the curtain.
Imagine Satan, Levi, and Mammon grouping together and creating a PowerPoint presentation. With Satan's organizing skills, Levi's technological know-how, and Mammon's morally grey skills of espionage, they gather all the characters together and teach a class on what to do and not to do around MC. Things like having a clear voice in text messages to keep them from having anxiety. Or not slamming doors, not entering their room without knocking, reminding them to drink water, knowing when to give them time to breathe etc. Everyone takes it seriously (some might say too seriously), including Belphie who didn't even sleep for a second during the whole thing.
What about an MC who takes on too much and never says anything about it? At first, Lucifer, Barbatos, and to a lesser degree Diavolo, are pleased that they've found a human with a strong work ethic and a love for responsibility. Little do they know that while part of that might be true, they are doing it because they are non-confrontational, a people pleaser, or try to prove their worth through success (or all of the above). They burn themselves out and forgo their other needs to conserve all their energy for the work that's been given to them, and it's not until it becomes a serious health issue that anyone really notices. They all take a blow when they come to know how much they had been pushing a human beyond their capabilities. So they tell MC to do less, not expecting the human to try and convince them that it wasn't an issue, maybe even apologizing for failing. Now they all have to keep an eye on MC and make sure they don't take things too far, and make sure that MC knows that their worth isn't tied to how much gets done in a day and they don't think of them any less for taking breaks or time for themselves. And maybe they all learn to take care of themselves a little more for it too. Especially one work-a-holic demon known as Pride.
How about an MC that hates the way they look? No matter what that might be. Body size, shape, height, skin-tone, skin-color, scars, blemishes, freckles, etc. What if it was drilled into their head since they were a child that they were not beautiful? What if they can't look into the mirror or take any photos of themselves without feeling sick? How about being around a demon like Asmo? Maybe resenting him, maybe avoiding him, maybe wishing they were like him. It probably would hurt Asmo to see someone hating themselves and their body so intently. Maybe it's because it reminds him of himself. Maybe they both have to sit down and rethink what beauty really means? It's a long process for both of them.
All of them work with the human with their image and not in a shallow way like trying to deny the things they have and who they are. They find ways around pictures, because there are more ways to keep memories rather than selfies and commemorative photos.
Or what if:
Beel: *In MC's room.* Alright, we'll just do some basic stretches.
MC: Okay, just tell me what to do.
Beel: Well, if you want, you can put on some music to make it more relaxing.
MC: Music? *Looks a little nervous.* If you want...
*MC then turns some music on their phone on the lowest setting and sets it on their bed.*
Beel: Um...you can turn it up more than that if you want.
MC: Louder? Really?
Beel: Don't you think it's a little quiet?
MC: Oh...um...okay... *turns it up by one more click.* Is- Is that okay? I can turn it down again.
Beel: *Opens his mouth, confused for a moment before shutting it again. In the quickest second, he's in his demon form.* Who do I need to find?
MC: B-Beel?!
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sunflowersteves · 10 months
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Could you write about Carmen getting your name tatted on his chest ? 🫶
yes I can, babes 😌
warnings || tattoos, absolutely pure fluff, making out, mentions of anxiety, not edited
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Carmen let out a deep breath, nerves prickling his skin, as he started to open the door of your apartment. His fingers from his other hand nervously tapped against the side of his thigh, all due to the anxiety that settled into his bones.
What if you hated it? What if you found it disgusting? Would you hate him?
The endless questions and unknown reactions flooded his head. It started to make him dizzy as he padded off into the living room.
“Baby?” He called out. His voice had a edge to it that made him want to cringe.
“In here, lovebug.” Instantly, he could feel his shoulders relax. The soft, caressing sound of your voice had silenced almost all of those trepidatious thoughts. Almost.
He barely moved an inch from where he stood. He knew your voice echoed from the bedroom, but his body refused to move. As always, his flight or fight response wanted to hone in on flight.
He took another deep breath. “Carmy?” You say. It was so soft and sweet that it melted his insides. Concern was evident by his lack of appearance and response.
This is so stupid. He was so stupid.
His mouth clamped shut. It was as if his body couldn’t quite catch up to his brain—which was racing a mile per minute. His finger continued to tap the side of his thigh.
You found yourself walking out into the living room, eyebrows furrowed. “Carmy baby, what’s the matter?”
You gently caress his jaw and it takes everything inside of him not to reach out. He wants to sit lovingly on the couch with your body on top of his, all while you watch some show.
More than half of the time he’s not even paying attention. His mind is either concocting a new recipe or thinking about how good your weight feels on top of him. His thoughts are all food or you.
“I have s-something to show you.” He curses inwardly at the stuttering of his voice. He hated how nervous he was for this.
It’s just you. Miraculously and amazing you.
Your eyebrows are furrowed once more, but your soft touch never wavers. He forces himself to take a big breath, eyes avoiding your stare.
He slowly takes off his white t-shirt. His hands shake as he pulls it over his head. His gold chain thumps against his chest and your eyes lowered. Then they lower again.
You let out a gasp. It was loud and shocking as it echoed against the apartment walls. “Oh, Carmy.” You whisper.
He sucks in a breath—anxiety toppling over as he spills his feelings. “W-well, uh, I know I said I was getting that arm piece. Like-like we talked about, you know? But then I-I started thinking and all I ever really wanted was you. So-so, yeah.” His hand was furiously pushing through his curls through the entire speech.
Your eyes are just glued to his chest. He gulps, hating the complete silence. However, you were just in awe.
Right on the center of where his heart is supposed to be was your initials in black ink. Your initials. The tattoo outlined in red from the irritated skin.
“Do you like it?” He says. He thought it was going to seem confident but the waver of his vocal cords say otherwise.
You finally look up into his eyes. You could’ve sworn you could stare at it for years. You open your mouth to reply but nothing comes out. Your heart pounds against your ears—his too. Having to wait for your response was torturous.
Instead of words, your body flings itself onto his. Your mouth slides over his and molds together as one. Your hands find themselves into his hair and pull. It was as if there was some switch that went off in your head. All you wanted, needed, and cared for right now was Carmen.
He pours out a moan when his tongue pushes between your lips and collides with yours. He could taste the leftover peppermint soufflé that you had after lunch. God, you tasted like fucking heaven.
You pull away before getting ahead of yourself. Carmen needed to go back to the restaurant for the night rush, but you wanted to pounce on him right then and there—give him kisses for a life time.
He laughs, which causing a chuckle to bubble from your own chest too.
“I fucking love it, Carmy.” You huff out. You were quite breathless from the kiss.
His eyes sparkle as his hands squeeze your waist. “Yeah?”
You nod, eyes looking glossed over. You were drunk on him—on Carmy.
“Yeah, lovebug. I might have to get one for myself. A C.B. just for you.”
He finally smiles, bright and toothy. His heart beats faster than ever, but now, it’s for a different reason.
“Sounds perfect, baby. Just perfect.”
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byoldervine · 5 months
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Motivation For Writing
Getting Off Your Butt:
1. Aestheticise it. Let the light in through the curtains, turn on your fairy lights, lay a blanket over your lap, light some candles, whatever you need to do to feel like a writer. The right vibes can go a long way
2. Picture that one scene. There’s almost always a moment you’re super excited about that basically inspired the whole book. Picture it, play it out in your head in full cinematic fanfare, gush to yourself about how cool it is and how everyone will love it, picture a future fanbase going nuts for it. You might get excited enough to go back to writing
3. Set a word count goal. During NaNoWriMo this year I think I wrote more than I ever have in one go. The thing that kept me coming back was the desire to not fall behind. I ended up with ~45K words after some complications irl caused me to drop off in the final few days, and that’s all just because I was adding up the 1667 a day word count goal and realising where I needed to be at to keep up. I definitely can’t stay as rigid as I did with 1667 words every single day, but seeing that you’re only a few hundred words off of a goal is super motivating - just be sure to set realistic, easy to achieve parameters for just general use, like 1000-2000 words per week. I know 200 words per day is a popular one for people trying to establish a writing routine that can’t dedicate forever to the craft
Maintaining Motivation:
1. Writing sprints. Writing sprints are a godsend for me, I like to set myself up in the living room with Abbie Emmons’ writing sprint video on. The video lasts two hours and is broken up into two parts; 25 minutes to write and 5 minutes for breaks between writing, so four 30 minute sprints overall. Having the timer and countdown with peaceful music and an aesthetic background is both relaxing and encouraging, as well as giving me a specific time for how much longer I have to push through. It’s easier for me to say “Okay, only ten more minutes, then you can take a break” then it is to say “Just keep going, we’re not stopping until I say so” which is too arbitrary for my brain to accept
2. Give yourself a choice. If you’re struggling to keep your focus, come up with a finish line and tell yourself you don’t have to do any more work once you’ve reached that point. Finish the paragraph, go for another five or ten minutes, keep it up until your next scheduled break. Whatever sounds realistic and doable without being overwhelming. And once you’ve met this goal, ask yourself if you still want to stop. With any luck, you’ll have gotten back into the zone and will choose to keep going. Maybe you’ll want to take a quick break but you’ll come back later on. And maybe you’ll decide that now actually is a good stopping point. Just remember that, if you do still want to stop, don’t force yourself to keep going. You can’t strike deals with yourself if you know you won’t keep your word and all you’ll end up doing is burning yourself out, which will lead to even less writing getting done
3. Try a new angle. If you can’t be bothered to write anymore, is there anything else you can do for your book? Plotting, editing, worldbuilding, character sheets, one-shots all that sort of thing can still be productive for your book while still being different enough to give your brain a slight respite. It also means less work in that particular area later on
Afterwards:
1. Organise. Clean up your workspace and put everything away so it’s nice and neat for when you come back to it. Or if you don’t need to pack things out the way, set it up in an aesthetically pleasing way so it will tempt you back next time. Let it give you the writer vibe
2. Take care of yourself. Get a drink, have a snack, walk about, stretch your limbs, take a breath, cuddle your pet. Something that gets you away from straining your eyes looking at text for a bit. This is also a good time to reward yourself if positive reinforcement is something you use on yourself. If you always feel shitty after your writing sessions, you won’t want to go back to it
3. Positive reflection. Make sure to tell yourself you did good, even if you didn’t get as much done as you would’ve liked or it isn’t up to a standard of quality you’re aiming for. That can all be fixed later on, and you’re infinitely better off than you would’ve been if you didn’t do it. Be proud of yourself. Tell yourself you’re proud of your hard work and your dedication and your effort. Remind yourself that this is a fun thing you like to do. Marvel over how insane it is that you’ve gotten this far - not many people do - and that you’ve got all this tangible work to prove you’ve accomplished something so many people wish they could pull off. If this isn’t fun overall, there’s no point
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lvlyghost · 4 months
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pairings: simon riley x f!reader
summary: reader suffers from a chronic illness and ghost finds out.
wc: 1.1k
tw: chronic pain, chronic illness, slight angst i think, comfort. not edited and not proofread. that's it.
a/n: sorry y'all i'm struggling a lot with writer's block lately so i'm writing these silly little things to help me out of it so don't mind me!
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By the moment Ghost enters his shared office he's frowning so hard that he fears it might leave a permanent mark on his forehead. The first day wasn't unusual as it was normal for soldiers, technicians and federal agents to come and go. Gaz is humming under his breath and greets him with a slight nod when he spots him but he barely returns the gesture. His desk is full of reports waiting to be filled some labeled 'Urgent' in big red letters.
Sitting down he manages to get done the first stack of papers but his mind was lost elsewhere barely paying attention to the work he never had trouble getting done in no time. Part of him wonders if Kyle will tease him if he asked about her. But better asking him than Johnny. As he leans back in his chair, fidgeting with the pen in his hands. Gaz barely pays attention, too enraptured by whatever he's watching on his own computer.
"Where's the girl?"
The Sergeant startles at the sudden sound of his deep voice. Hard and demanding.
"Sir?" He half chuckles when brown eyes meet each other.
"Have you seen her? She's supposed to report back to me and she hasn't." It was only half a truth. She did have to report to him every progress made for future missions, give him the intel so he can report to the Captain. The thing was, there were no missions taking place soon. No black ops, nothing. But Kyle didn't know that.
Gaz lifts his brows, trying to figure out who his Lieutenant was talking about, until it hits him.
"Oh." He murmurs. "The tech girl, Lt?" He shrugs. "Haven't seen her in a few days, have you tried calling her or you know... going to the women's barracks?"
Ghost scoffs as if the mere idea was ridiculous.
"No. Guess she'll show up."
She has to.
Standing up he exits the office under Gaz's questioning look. The hallways feel endless the more he walks to the tech wing, he knows if he passes down that specific hallway he'd be able to see through the glass that serves as walls if she's there or not.
Much to his already building annoyance she's not there.
-
Rolling onto your back you squeeze your eyes shut once more. An unyielding pain throbbing in the back of your skull shoots yet another wave of nausea making you feel more miserable than ever.
It's been two days since the whole ordeal started. It began with a subtle pain that couldn't recognize the symptoms at first, merely blinking away the black dors that started to blurred your vision one afternoon when you were trying to fill the reports for Ghost, pages and pages of new intel recovered from long lost contacts online.
Saying it was hard to dig in all those dark places was an understatement. You had tried to push the symptoms of uneasiness to the back of your mind, typing and decoding algorithms for what could be days. Days without sleep or proper and much needed rest.
So, when the first wave hit you had ran to the bathroom, throwing up what little you had eaten that day. Oh how you hated it. Tears prickle in the corner of your eyes and the terror began, everything went down hill from there.
Shutting the computer off you gathered your belongings. The corridors were in complete silence, abandoned hours ago when everyone went to their dorms.
You remembered picking up some of your things from the women's barracks and retreating to your personal dorm where no one would bother you. As a member of the task force you had a place for you alone —just as the rest of the team— and you're grateful because the next days were a nightmare.
The curtains were tightly closed. Not the tiniest bit of light could pass even if the sun burned brighter. The earplugs helped but they didn't do much to alleviate the external noises. Fuck why were the soldiers so loud? You asked to yourself, jaw tight in an effort to soothe the pulsing on your forehead.
After laying in the same position for another hour you decide to get up, dragging your feet in an enormous attempt to get to the bathroom. With the lights turned off you undress as quickly as you can; standing on your feet is hard enough already but you wait nonetheless for the bath to fill with cool water.
With numb extremities you step in and lower yourself, it's almost soothing and calming the way the water swallows your body and then your head. Ever since these headaches —these migraines— started to interfere, you learned that cool water could help to ease the symptoms. Time passes by and when you emerge your teeth chatter, lips turned purple but it was worth it. God was it worth it.
You're exhausted, this has taken a toll on you. Fitting your pajamas feels like an impossible task. Your head throbs with the slightest of movement. And then the door opens just a tad, reveling the dark shadow of the man you'd recognize anywhere.
"Ghost," you murmur acknowledging his presence, half shocked half embarrassed that he's right here in your bedroom. Your bathroom.
"Why is everything dark?" His voice is too loud and it makes you flinch; he's quick to notice even in the sheer darkness. He notices the whimper in your voice when he speaks too loud. He notices the way your body sags, and when he takes a step close you lean on him. Forehead pressing down on his broad chest. "Hey." He calls you, voice lowering this time. "Let me take you to the bed."
And you almost want to say something it. Make a comment about it being inappropriate but you're too sick to even do it so you let him guide you. You let him lay you down and surprises you when he follows.
Bodies curling against the other. You rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes so hard until the pain soothes. "You never told me about it."
"Never had the chance. Thought you hated me, remember?"
Ghost sighs. He had never intended for you to feel like that around him, he just wasn't accustomed to having such a nice person around him. You were so different from everything he knew.
"Forgive me, love." He mutters. "They're gonna start asking questions."
"What do you mean?" You grab him by the shirt when a sudden wave of nausea hits you. He caresses your hair in a calming manner.
"I asked Garrick about you." Before you can fight it a smile spreads on your face.
"Johnny..." you snort, regretting it the moment the laugh rattles in your brain. The Scot is about to have a field day when he finds out. "Ow..."
"Will never hear the end of it." His thumb presses down on your temple massaging the spot. "Better?"
"Yeah." There's a moment of brief silence where all you can hear is the sound of feet outside your dorm. People carrying on with their lives. "Would you stay with me tonight Lt.?"
"Thought you'd never ask."
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ilovehimyourhonour · 1 year
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wouldn’t dream of it
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📂 bf! jung wooyoung x reader . you weren’t clear and wooyoung thought you were breaking up with him . slight angst , a bit of fluff , comfort .
a/n writing random pieces as my inbox/drafts sits with request . (edit — can’t believe this got as much love as it did lol) .
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Vision turning hazy, Wooyoung falters in his steps—his eyes prick with tears as he watches you turn away from him, something you’ve never done. But has there ever been an argument this severe? Have the two of you ever yelled at each other with this much anger and heat? The rare times you did argue the atmosphere was still comforting, the two of you would sit down and talk things over. Wooyoung would hesitantly reach for your hands, you would smile softly and intertwine your fingers with his—he’d then lean forward, his lips brushing your forehead as he mumbles a “Im sorry.” Everything from there would work itself out, but as Wooyoung swayed where he stood, the orange lantern hanging above his head casting a dim light over him and the surrounding area, he knew the two of you weren’t going to solve this in a matter of minutes.
“Are you even listening to me?” He blinks back another rush of tears, they build within his throat. “Of course you’re not,” you chuckle. “Stupid of me to assume you would be.”
Your eyes are red, your cheeks are stained with the tears that had managed to escape—the collar of Wooyoung’s your shirt sports a few patches where your tears had fallen and seeped into the material. Wooyoung watches your hands shake as you reach up to brush the wetness from your cheeks.
“Can you say something, Wooyoung?” You’re annoyed. He parts his lips, only a strangled grunt leaves his mouth, the tangled tears, worry, and heartbreak resting in his throat blocks the words he wishes he could say. You hum softly, turning away from him—nearing the front door of your apartment. “I think we need a break, Woo.”
Panic surges through Wooyoung, bringing each aspect of himself to a crumbling point. Never has he ever had the desire to hear those words leave your mouth, never once had he ever desired to say them himself—no matter the circumstance he always wanted to get through it with you. He stumbles forward, leaving the kitchen and its orange glow behind as he pushes himself to the entrance—desperate to catch you before you left him.
Your backs facing him as he reaches you, you’re mid swinging your jacket over your shoulder when his two arms wrap around your knees—leaving you to frown and crane your neck. Your boyfriend has his face pressed into the back of your thighs, muffled sobs soaking into the materiel of your sweatpants, his shoulders violently shake with his cry. “I. Love. You,” his words are broken between hiccups.
“I love you, Wooyoung.” Your still facing the door, his tight grip on your legs preventing you from turning to face his kneeling figure. “Let me go,” you softly mutter as you blindly reach behind you—fingers brushing through his hair gently. His arms circle your legs tighter, his head shaking as he lets a few more hiccups shake his figure. You sigh and reach for his arms, pulling yourself from his hold—his heart splits in half and another surge of tears trail down his cheeks, dripping from his jaw and chin.
“No,” he chokes out. “Please don’t leave me,” his voice is hoarse and shaky. “One more chance, one more chance. Please.”
You’re now facing him, frowning as you drop to your knees—mirroring his position. “I just need one more chance,” his words are now barely above a whisper. You practically coo at his sad and desperate expression, your bottom lip can’t help but quiver as you reach out and brush the bangs from his eyes.
“I will never leave you, Wooyoung.”
“You said we needed a break.”
You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut. “I didn’t mean we should break up, darling. I meant we need a break from this,” he shifts so he sits crossed legged on the floor, you follow immediately. You watch his fingers twitch in his lap, as they always did—so you reach forward, taking his hand in yours. “We need time to calm down and then talk things over.”
“I am calm,” you chuckle softly—Wooyoung’s fingers tighten around yours at the familiar sound. “I don’t want to be alone.”
The heartbroken look in his eyes keeps you at his side, the two of you sitting in the entrance for hours. Nothing but soft touches, gentle kisses, and I love you’s being exchanged between the two of you. But somewhere between confessing your love for each other and brushing the hairs from one another’s faces, apologizes are exchanged. Woo promises he’ll be a better boyfriend, to which you expressed how you already believed him to be the best boyfriend you could ever ask for.
“Don’t ever break up with me,” Wooyoung mumbles into your shoulder as he holds you in his lap.
You chuckle softly as you bring your arms around his neck. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
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© ilovehimyourhonour
2K notes · View notes
memzyyy · 3 months
Note
bill def eats his gf out while she does her makeup and I thought abt this while I did my makeup 😭
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this fic seems so incomplete and i don’t know where to put my finger on it at all???
i don’t know how to write a person getting eaten out (you can tell i’m a virgin🙄)
I had taken some guidance with my mate ( @1sjsoul ) and this is what she said; “the way it’s running down my leg.”
edit: Proof since she didn’t believe anyone would believe me;
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NSFW DOWN BELOW
you had started doing your makeup 15
minutes ago, you had not even got the chance to finish putting your concealer on as you were too distracted by the feeling of Bill’s tongue lapping and swirling over your clit.
you had began to put your makeup brush down, accepting the fact you will not be able to finish your makeup while he’s eating you out like a starved man, just as you were about to put it down he had stopped you.
“finish your makeup, Darling.” he spoke, the glistening sight of your arousal around his lips as he licks it off his face, you picked your makeup brush up once again as he began to fuck his tongue into your sopping hole, making you whimper out. You began to grind your hips against his face, he doesn’t care how embarrassed you are, spreading you apart and suckling on where you most definitely needed him the most. Only the best for his girlfriend <3!!
“you taste so- mph.. fucking good.” he panted as he grips the flesh of your thighs before squeezing them, pulling you more onto his face. “Bill i’m gonna suffocate you if you keep pushing me into your face..” you moaned, he didn’t answer, he was too focused on your perfect pussy to make sense of what your saying, just listening to your moans and blocking everything else out of his ears.
You snaked your hand through his hair, instinctively tugging on it. He looks up at you as you cum on his tongue, he keeps suckling as he rides out your orgasm, swallowing your juices instantly. He removed himself from under you, gently pulling your face to his before kissing you, making you taste yourself on his tongue.
“good girl, you did so well for me.”
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mikobeautifulheart · 17 days
Note
How about JJK Men touching your weak spot, like on ur back or something in public and it makes you jump and them laugh.
IDK what ever you want to write but something like that.
TEHEHE YESSSS
Not edited btw :(
Weak spot
Including: Yuji and Yuta
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Yuji
You were standing at the door to Yuji's dorm. He told you earlier that he would be 5 minutes late and that you could just head inside.
Was he sure, could you really just freely walk in? I mean what if he left stuff out that your not meant to see...or if he left his things out and forgot about it.
You reached out to turn the door knob before pushing the door open slowly. Everything was...normal. Clean, neat, nothing out of the ordinary actually. You walked in quietly, this place was to quiet to clean...there's got to be something he's hiding.
Well he is Yuji, he wouldn't hid anything...would he?
First you looked under the couch.
Then his desk draws.
And then in the book shelfs.
Nothing. Maybe you were just to caught up in trying to find anything interesting, in reality you knew there probably wasn't even anything there.
Finally you opened his bed room door and were about to peek under the bed when you felt something gently run down your spine making you jump slightly.
You heard Yuji's laugh "Your spine really is your weak spot"
You stood up and grabbed the pillow off of his bed and whacked him with it.
"YUJI YOU SCARED ME!"
"HEY! CALM DOWN" He said wrapping his arms around you, pushing you on his bed, his body on top.
"What were you looking for?" He asked
"Mmm nothing Yuji, I was just looking around. I guess I was right, you don't seem like a guy who hides things"
"I don't need to hide anything from you babe, I have nothing to hide" He said smiling while kicking his old Jenifer Lawrence poster under his bed.
(He forgot to throw it out before you got there)
Yuta
You were sent on a mission with your boyfriend, last one of the day. You were practically on edge after the past few nights with little to no sleep. Worked to the bone and tiered.
You and Yuta had pretty much finished the mission, but there were still traces of cursed energy so you both spilt up.
Man this sucks.
You swore as soon as this was over you were going to collapse into Yuta's arms and sleep all the way back home. But in the mean time you just had to hurry and finish this mission.
Walking down the hall way you heard something inside of a room, that was it, it was the last curse. It would be an easy kill, if only you could find the damn thing first.
You swung open the door and was hit with a wave of exhaustion hit you making your eye lids get heavier. Your vision blurred and your limbs became heavier.
"Not now" You mumbled to yourself seeing the curse move away in the corner of your sight.
You stumbled into the middle of the room and swung your arm aimlessly, managing to punch right through the curses body.
A sigh escaped your lips. Finally. Or so you thought until you felt overwhelming cursed energy behind you. Before you could turn around and react you felt a small poke on the small of your back making you jump and your knees go weak, body falling slowly backwards into something...you close your eyes to just accept your fate at this point only to be met with the sound of a light hearted chuckle.
"Y-Yuta, you rat. You know that's my weak spot" You mumbled looking up at him, seeing his smile.
"Sorry, sorry I couldn't help it." He lifted your body up bridal style and carried you out the building.
"Where's Ichi when you need him" Yuta said looking down to see you peacefully sleeping.
THANK YOU FOR READING ♡
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AUTHOURS NOTE: So random but i'm dying with out requests, I only have two more to write and I've nearly finished them. PLEASE.
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It's literally impossible to read bat fanfiction because it's all based off those ridiculous fanon tropes that spread like crazy and people take as fucking biblical!!!!! Dick was never a jerk to Jason when he was Robin- they got along because Dick is mature as hell and in one retelling- Jason was a jerk to him!! And when he came back as Red Hood he had literally not a single damn reason to treat Dick like shit! Not a damn one! But he did, didn't he? Cause he's the fucking asshole! How dare you make Dick grovel towards that bastard! Dick has only ever tried to help him! Reached out during his Batman run, over and over! Also- Dick never put Jason in Arkham with Joker just a few cells down???? What the fuck! The Joker and all those other fuckers had been broken out of Arkham by Black Mask already for like the whole run??? Jason went to Arkham after losing to Dick, and Gordon put him in there because One he fucking deserved it, Two the literal circumstances?? And at that point!! Arkham was fucking rehabilitated itself!! By Dick!!! Because Bruce had him go undercover there for real, and Dick was actually tortured there before he got out!! So Dick put in the work to get that shit in order to actually help people!!
Dick never chose Damian over Tim- Tim refused to engage with him over his grief, shut him out, and left of his own devices! He never told Dick his suspicions on why Bruce was alive, never! And Tim is not the one to bring Bruce back either, there's a whole team at that point! Dick learns Bruce is alive through tossing his 'dead' body into a pit and the body comes to life as a zombie. Tim didn't tell him shit! Tim is also not a little crybaby- Damian cutting his line was a fucking blip on the page, he was momentarily shocked, that was it! He put Damian on his Hit List, which is why Damian cut his line. And his first attempt at "murder" is just pushing Tim off the dinosaur statue in the cave, he didn't go all assassin on him! Also Dick wasn't even there the first incident and wasn't told about the second incident. Alfred is the one who gave Damian Robin and Dick accepted him because he saw that Damian needed help! He needed guidance! He didn't fucking fire Tim the way Bruce fired him, and fuck all of you for thinking that Tim or Jason or fucking anyone has more right over Robin than Dick Fucking Grayson! He tried to promote Tim and Tim walked off. How dare yall make Dick fucking grovel towards that bastard!!!
Jason did try to kill all three of them!! Why does everyone just gloss over that like what the fuck??? Why does he get a pass for every shitty thing he's done??? "Bad writing" stfu this is the same dude that without hesitation kills random criminals, people who deal drugs, do you know how many random ass people deal drugs??? Jason doesn't give a single shit about being his own type of hero or saving Gotham his own way, nor do the people think of him as their savior!! Are you people fucking delusional?? I saw a post that said citizens would trust Jason over CASS and I cannot Believe the hallucinations yall are seeing???
It is literally downright impossible to find fics about Dick or Damian or Cass or fucking any of them that doesn't include these literal bullshit fanon takes!!! It's impossible!!! This fandom sucks!!!! You don't even need to go buy the comics, all these popular takes have been debunked right here on tumblr!!!! Also Dick can do literally everything!! He's hypercompetent as hell, die mad about it!! Jason doesn't like Wonder Woman???? Where the fuck did that come from??? Wayne Family Adventures is not real!!! Those people could not BE more out of character!!! Look at Bruce for crying out loud!!! Yall know that man ain't act like that!
Edit: leaving this here in case anyone wonders what my hot take is towards this question I was asked: "have you considered tho, that fanon is more fun..."
Well of course fanon is more fun if you're a fan of Jason or Tim. Fanon actively caters towards those two pasty white boys. Fanon actively shits on Dick and Damian though. And for Dick? He literally never did that shit! It is all made up! It's literal character assassination?? But by the fans?? And for Damian? He was 10!!! He grew up as an assassin! He was actively trying to grow with Dick's help! How can yall see him as the bad guy?? And not the literal bad guy, (Jason), and the 17 teen year old who literally fought him back btw, (Tim), like old boy did not act victimized the way you people portray. And Jesus for Cass? Cass is just a prop in fanon. So what exactly about this should be fun to me? Like seriously.
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in1-nutshell · 3 months
Note
I need more of Megatron being a terrible father.
I need Soundwave realizing that Buddy will never be safe on Nemisis and creates a plan for her to escape, entirely against her will. She has been raised that the worst thing you can do is betray Megatron. She's terrified of what will happen to her if she leaves.
I need Soundwave to throw her at the autobots through a ground bridge with a bow on top and a sticker thar says handle with care.
I need buddy to be freaking the fuck out for the next few days while she's with the autobots.
I need Optimus and Ratchet to be low-key (high key) horrified at what has become of her. How funny little buddy who liked to read and the color purple now can't look anyone in the eye.
I need the rest of the autobots being EXTREMELY warry of her because she's MEGATRONS KID
And I need Bulkhead to just move a little too quickly in her direction, and she just crumbles to the floor begging for mercy. I need them to know exactly how shitty of a father Megatron is.
Bonus points if Miko asks about her daddy issues.
Bonus bonus points for Optimus learning that before Megatron came back and did drugs, Buddy was in charge and was trying to reach them for peace negotiations and mentally slamming his head against the wall.
Tis here! After hours of editing and writing... the second part to Megatron's daughter!
Thank you to everyone who has posted their comments about the last one, it means a lot!
Hope you enjoy!
Megatron's daughter with the opposite personality: Soundwave's Plan part 2
SFW, Platonic, ANGST, You have been warned!, Hurt and Comfort, Cybertronain reader
TFP
It took longer than expected but Soundwave finally found one night where everything could fall into place. His plan would act.
Megatron and Starscream had left the Nemesis to look over some energon tunnels, leaving the Nemesis without its leader.
Without anyone competent on the cameras.
Carefully, he put a loop schedule on the cameras as he made his way to Buddy’s room.
The mini was in deep sleep, exhausted from the recovery of her injuries.
It wasn’t wise to get her out of the med bay like this, but what choice did he have. At this rate, Megatron was going to want to train her while she is recovering.
Buddy still had some fresh dents and welding marks littered across her frame. Knockout refused to mess with them until the next day to avoid further armor complications.
Soundwave carefully picked up his niece and headed out the door.
Thankfully Buddy was an extremely heavy sleeper in recovery. If she were awake now during the escape, she surely would have thrown a fit about all of this.
He created a groundbridge and stepped through it, the cool night of the dessert greeted him when he stepped out.
Buddy was still out cold.
Soundwave hoped that the fake emergency signal he sent out would reach the Autobots soon, he was already betting so much with Buddy and the position of the Nemesis like this.
Another groundbrigde opened behind him a couple feet away.
Optimus and Ratchet come out of the groundbrigde.
Optimus with his blaster at the ready with Ratchet holding his med kit in one servo.
“Soundwave?”--Optimus
Soundwave turning around with Buddy in his arms.
Both Autobots optics go wide.
“Is… is that—”--Ratchet
“Buddy?”--Optimus
Soundwave nods slightly and begins to walk forward.
The Autobots tensing up a bit.
“I—come here—in—peace.”—Soundwave
“And how can we trust you?”—Ratchet
“You—don’t.”--Soundwave
Soundwave walks towards the Prime and stops in front of him.
Ratchet takes a look at Buddy, servos slightly shaking seeing the dents and welding marks.
“What is this? What happened?”--Ratchet
“Buddy—not—safe—on the Nemesis.”--Soundwave
“What do you mean she isn’t safe on the Nemesis? She’s Megtron’s daughter who would be daft enough to—”--Ratchet
Soundwave gently pushes her to Primes arms.
Prime reflexively cradles Buddy’s frame closer to him.
“Why did you call us Soundwave? Surely, if this is about Buddy’s health, Megatron would have—”--Optimus
“Megatron—did this.”--Soundwave
“…What?”--Optimus
“Megatron—hurt her. Too much—damage done. Buddy—not safe—on—Nemesis. I—cannot keep—her—safe. Prime can—keep her—safe.”--Soundwave
“…Megatron hurt her… Do you mean to tell us all this damage was Megatron’s doing?”--Optimus
Soundwave nods silently and turns walking away.
“Wait so you’re just going to leave her!?”--Ratchet
Soundwave stops for a moment.
“Buddy—not safe. Buddy—safe—with Prime.”--Soundwave
Soundwave gives one last glance to Buddy’s sleeping form before going through his groundbridge.
Ratchet and Optimus are stun in silence fully rerestarting the words.
Buddy yawns a bit and snuggles closer to Prime’s chassis.
Prime instinctively holds her closer.
Both Autobots are furious and worried over their niece.
“Bulkhead, open up the groundbrigde. We are bringing in someone.”--Ratchet
The three of them returned and everyone was immediately swarming the Prime holding an injured minibot. Everyone is curious about them. The kids are especially curious. This bot was smaller than Arcee, much closer to their size.
Arcee looks at a scratched up Decepticon logo.
Her blasters go up.
“Woah! Woah! Woah! Arcee what are you doing!?”--Bulkhead
“That’s a Con! Why did you bring them here!?”--Arcee
Buddy yawns a bit and begins to open her optics slowly.
“Primus… that hurt… note to self, get a—”--Buddy
Buddy looks up at the very blur optics staring right back at her.
Buddy slowly looks around at the Autobots around her, especially the one with the blaster trained on her chassis.
“Primus tell me this is a dream…”--Buddy
Buddy patting the ends of Optimus’s digits slowly.
They aren’t sharp…
They aren’t sharp!
“OH PRIMUS THIS IS REAL!”--Buddy
Buddy somehow jumps out of the Prime’s servos and starts running to the door.
“Get her!”--Arcee
Smokescreen tries to tackle her down, but she sidesteps making him crash into a wall.
Arcee tries to fire a blast at her, but Optimus immediately puts the blaster down.
“Stand down everyone!”--Optimus
“But Prime—”--Arcee
“Stand down!”--Optimus
Everyone, even Buddy in the corner stops.
Optimus turns to Buddy who is shaking in the corner staring right back at him.
Ratchet is the first to make a move and slowly walks to Buddy.
Buddy tries to press herself more into the wall as ratchet stops in front of her.
“…Hello Buddy…”--Ratchet
“…Dr. Ratchet?”--Buddy
Ratchet gives her a tired smile.
“I’m going to look at some of your welding’s and dents. Is that okay?”--Ratchet
Buddy stops for a moment before nodding her helm, slowly sinking down to the floor letting Ratchet make a few checks on the wounds.
Buddy asks what she is doing on their base.
Something that everyone wants to know.
Optimus tells them about Soundwave’s visit.
How Soundwave wanted Buddy to stay with Prime as the Nemesis was no longer safe for her.
Buddy is in deep denial.
There was no way that Soundwave would do that.
Not after everything they went through.
But the more she thought about it… the more it made sense.
Soundwave wanted her to be safe, and he thought that Optimus was going to keep her safe.
Many bots looked uneasy at her.
They had a good reason too.
This was Megatron’s daughter after all.
What if Megatron came knocking on their door with bombs demanding the sparkling back?
Buddy is granted refuge by Optimus despite some opinions.
The tensions in the base were thick.
Buddy stuck by Ratchet’s side the entire time.
No one wanted anything to do with her, which she understood.
Something that she wasn’t expecting was one of the humans to come up to her and try and kick her pede.
Buddy cleaning some of Ratchet’s tools.
CLANG!
Buddy looks down to see an angry human girl looking at her.
“That was for Raf!”--Miko
“What is this ‘Raf’?”--Buddy
“You’re dad nearly killed him!”--Miko
Buddy looks at the smaller human boy semi hiding behind the taller human boy.
She hangs her head a bit.
“I am truly sorry for my… father’s actions young Raf.”--Buddy
Miko, Jack, and Raf look surprised by the apology.
“Yeah, well a sorry isn’t—”--Miko
“It’s okay.”--Raf
“It is?”--Buddy
“It is!”--Miko
“Yeah, it happened a while ago, but you didn’t have anything to do with it, right?”--Raf
Buddy looking slightly horrified.
“Of course not! I would never want to hurt your indigenous population on purpose or with any malicious intent!”--Buddy
“…wow…”--Jack
“You don’t seem to be related to old Bucket head.”--Miko
“Well… you wouldn’t be completely wrong. He found me in the streets of Kaon in a trash bin.”--Buddy
“So, you’re a dumpster baby?”--Miko
“Miko!”--Jack
“I suppose so. Miko… is that your designation?”--Buddy
“Yep! You know… you don’t exactly fit the Con description. Like at all. One your small—”--Miko
“I’m taller than you, though.”--Buddy
“Yet, Arcee has more height on you.”--Jack
“Arcee? Was that the one who—”--Buddy
“Tried to put more holes in you? Yeah, I’m Jack by the way.”--Jack
“Pleasure to meet you, Jack. My designation is Buddy.”--Buddy
“Wait really? I thought Ratchet said that to calm you down. Coming from Megs kid, I’d think that you’d be named something like ‘Skullcrusher’ or ‘Smash’ or something threatening.”—Miko
“Orion actually gave me the name.”—Buddy
“Orion? Wait as in…”----Jack
The kids and Buddy looking across the room at Optimus and Bumblebee talking.
“Yep.”—Buddy
Miko plopping down in front of Buddy.
“All right spill the lore!”—Miko
“What’s lore?”—Buddy
Things slowly became less tense with the kids acting as an olive branch.
The first ones to come around were Bumblebee and Smokescreen.
It only made sense being that Buddy was near the same age as the two.
The three of them would chat about human media and the latest movies they watched with the kids.
Buddy became very fond of the movie nights the kids would put up.
“Hey, it’s my turn to sit there!”—Smokescreen
Buddy sitting right behind the kids to watch the projector.
“I’m shorter so I get to sit here.I wouldn’t be able to see anything with your big helms in the way. Its only logical.”—Buddy
Miko hoping into Buddy’s lap with a blanket to ‘cover' them both.
“Aww. C’mon! Bee?”—Smokescreen
Bumblebee laying on his side slightly behind Buddy with Raf laying down on his helm with a yellow blanket.
“Beep boop bep beep (You snooze you loose, Smokescreen)”—Bumblebee
Smokescreen laying down, slightly sulking behind Buddy, with Jack slightly leaning on him with a pillow on his head.
“Traitor.”--Smokescreen
“Act you age Smokescreen.”--Buddy
“Wait who is the older one here anyways?”--Raf
“That would be Smokescreen. Bumblebee is the youngest one out of the three of us.”--Buddy
“So, you’re the middle child?”--Miko
“Yes?”—Buddy
Strangely, Magnus and Arcee where the next ones to fall.
It was all thanks to Buddy trying to prove that she wasn’t here for anything malicious.
The two had decided to do some training with the minibot.
They were surprised to see how well the mini could move so quickly and so fast.
Whatever training Buddy had previously was good.
Buddy dodging another attack from Arcee.
“That’s enough. Training is over.”--Magnus
Buddy huffing a bit.
“You tired already? Would have figured that you had more in you.”--Arcee
“You wish Arcee. You barely touched me this time.”--Buddy
“This time. Wait till next time.”--Arcee
Buddy smiling a bit before turning to Magnus, straightening her back struts a bit.
“Ultra Magnus, sir?”--Buddy
“The training was adequate. You need to learn how to attack faster at your opponent’s weak spots.”--Magnus
“I will do my best sir.”--Buddy
Magnus giving a small smile before leaving the room.
Buddy smiling a bit, trying to ignore the shaking servos when she left the room.
Bulkhead and Wheeljack were the last to fall.
It was all thanks to Miko.
Miko had been trying for a while to get them to play with Buddy.
Wheeljack flat out refused to work with Buddy, still thinking that this could have all been some sort of elaborate trick.
Bulkhead was a bit more open minded, but he backed Wheeljack up.
But after a bit of convincing, she managed to get them to play at least one game with her.
And it worked.
Bulkhead soon became another friend of Buddy’s while Wheeljack followed closely behind.
Optimus walking through the base with his data pad in his servo.
He turns the corner to hear laughter coming out of one of the rooms.
He peaks in to see Buddy and his two Wreckers playing, having a great time.
He manages to catch Buddy smiling.
A smile he hadn’t seen in a long, long time.
He turns and continues his walk.
Optimus and Ratchet obviously trusted Buddy right off the bat.
They knew their niece well.
But that didn’t shake the memory of Soundwave telling them that Megatron had laid his servo on Buddy.
Ratchet was absolutely fuming with anger.
How dare a father even consider doing such a horrendous act to their own sparkling!?
Optimus really wanted to fight Megatron.
He almost felt the same way as he did when Raf had gotten exposed to the dark energon.
In a way they both feel like they had failed.
What if scenarios popped up more with Buddy around.
The duo did their best to get Buddy to open up about her time on the Nemesis.
So far it had been snippets here and there, nothing major, but it was something.
Optimus, Ratchet, and Buddy looking at some coding in the empty base.
Buddy stops for a second.
“Buddy? You found something important?”--Ratchet
“It’s just…when fath—when Megatron left to space for those years on Earth, I was put in charge of the Decepticon army.”--Buddy
Ratchet’s optics widen a bit.
Optimus is not too surprised by this news.
“I—I tried to get in contact with you… I wanted to negotiate peace between our two factions, for good.”--Buddy
Optimus optics widen now.
“I—I figured it could be the one good thing I could do on the forsaken ship… I should have tried harder to—”--Buddy
Optimus hugs Buddy close.
Buddy’s optics become blurry with tears.
“Oh…oh Buddy…”--Ratchet
Ratchet rubs circles on Buddy’s back as she racks a sob on Optimus’s chassis.
The Prime holds her close to his spark, wishing he could take away her pain so badly.
They knew they needed to talk more about this to Buddy, but they never seemed to find the right time.
Until the truth revealed its ugly head.
Miko was on Buddy’s shoulder trying to show her a new photo that she took not too long ago.
Buddy didn’t notice Bulkhead behind them.
He wanted to get Miko to go help her with her guitar lessons.
The only things Buddy recognized was a dark shadow and a fast-moving servo.
It was too quick.
Buddy soon found herself cradling Miko close to her chassis with her back towards the offender.
She waited for the blow.
She felt sick when she didn’t feel the blow.
Maybe it was because the only thing Buddy could feel and hear where the loud hums of her spark going haywire.
She didn’t notice Miko furiously hitting her armor trying to snap her out of it.
She didn’t notice the sudden crowd around.
She did notice someone trying to take Miko away.
She tightens her grip on the human but making sure not to hurt her. That was the last thing she ever wanted to do.
It took a minute to try and get Buddy to calm down.
Buddy felt awful for the sudden panic.
Buddy sitting on the med slab looking at Miko who was in her servos.
“I’m so sorry for that.”--Buddy
“Buddy you’ve already apologized, anyways it’s okay.”--Miko
“No it’s not. That should have… it won’t happen again.”--Buddy
“It was my fault Buddy. Maybe if I hadn’t moved so fast.”—Bulkhead
Buddy looking at Bulkhead’s sorrowful optics.
“No Bulkhead it wasn’t you. You just looked a little like… The shadow reminded me of…”--Buddy
“Megatron?”--Ratchet
Buddy flinches a bit, but nods.
Silence.
Miko patting Buddy’s servo.
“When you came to the base all hurt, that was him wasn’t it.”--Miko
Buddy nods slowly.
“I… I think its about time you guys knew what happened. From the beginning. Optimus? Will you help me in the parts I don’t remember?”--Buddy
Optimus placing a servo on Buddy’s shoulder.
“Of course.”—Optimus
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angxlofvenus · 10 months
Text
A Shoulder To Cry On
Requested By: @saturnsapothecary Genre: Hurt/comfort Ship: The brothers x reader TW: Mentions of crying, distressed reader, physical contact, Undisclosed stressful situation, soft characters, angst tbh Word count: 1,107 An: Hi! What you are about to read is probably the most angsty thing I have written thus far. I joke a lot in my other writings but in this one I went with a more somber approach, mostly bc I listened to Mitski while writing this entire thing, Anyway, Heed the TW, and Happy reading ♥️
Pt. 2 can be found here (Dateables+Luke edition!)
It had been a rough week, 'Thankfully it's Friday' You thought, Climbing up The HoL staircase as you felt yourself start to break, By the time you had reached your room- all you could do was walk in, close the door, and start crying, collapsing onto the floor, Not hearing the door reopen and a certain demon pop his head inside...
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Lucifer
Immediate concern, What has happened? 
He makes a bee-line toward you, kneeling infront of you.
Will rub soft and slow circles into your back as you start to calm down
Once he knows nothing is currently threatening you in any way, He would lead you to his bedroom (Not like that, get your head out of the gutter)
Will offer you a beverage as you sit on his bed, You don’t have to talk to him but…He is here for you and he needs you to know that.
If you want physical comfort, He will sit on his bed, gather you up into his arms and start to rock the two of you, His body crashed against yours like gentle waves, Pulling you in and then pushing you back out.
If you don’t wish to be touched, He absolutely understands either way. He hopes his soft-spoken words of comfort will help you.
He gets it, He feels nonstop worry and exhaustion from his many duties, He strives to make the Devildom a happy place for you but he knows he can not always insure that, But let him try to fix what has plagued you.
Mammon
When he finds you crying he feels horrendous and angry, Not at you of course! Just-
He’s supposed to be your first man, The guy you can find solace in no matter what! But looking at your tear-stained face he can’t help but feel like he’s failed you in a way 
He will do everything in his power to help you though, He may have not been there to stop this all from happening but that doesn’t mean you have to go through this alone!
Ask and you shall receive, No complaints! Anything you want that will make your grief lessen, He’d do it for you.
He isn’t the best speaker but he’ll start shooting off at the mouth about how much he cares about you and how he hates seeing you like this- Please let him help, In any way he can. 
Levi
Panic, He can barely handle himself- Let alone another person!
With shaky hands he will put a hand on your shoulder before looking at your reaction, 
If you want Physical comfort, he will slot himself beside you, not outwardly touching you, just kind of leaning onto you
If not, His hand retracts rapidly as he instead sits across from you
Either way, He’ll quietly ask if you want to talk about it, After your done talking/You tell him no- He will invite you to his room where you all spend the rest of the night watching your favorite animes/series
He knows he can’t take away all of your pain, But he hopes he can atleast put some nicer things in your mind
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Satan
Brows furrowed, He takes quick but cautious steps toward you, almost like he would a cat.
The first thing that comes to his mind is anger, “Are you okay? Who did this?” He will ask you as softly as he could.
When he finds out what has happened, He will feel the surge of anger come back to him, Not at you- never at you, But at the world. He hates how powerless he feels in these moments, knowing there is nothing for him to solve.
So instead he does what he knows how to do, He takes you through breathing exercises and ways to help you calm down, He has spent centuries managing his anger so he has learned a thing or two-
Will talk you through your worries if you wanted before walking off, Only to then bring back your favorite book with him. He reads to you in the same soft voice you have grown to love, He knows he is only one demon but that doesn’t mean he won’t try to take the weight off your shoulders.
Asmo
His first thought is to swarm you, Asking questions, giving hugs, wiping away your tears- the whole nine yards
But he won’t. He knows how to respect boundaries no matter what, So he pushes down the feeling, instead dropping to his knees infront of you and asking what’s wrong.
If you want a hug or a shoulder to cry on he is their the second it comes out of your mouth, You don’t have to pretend with him, not ever- He won’t think badly of you for anything you vent to him about- He is there for you no matter what, Through thick and thin.
Only if your feeling up to it ofcourse, He’ll lead you to his room and bring out his ‘self care box’ The ice mask he lays across your face washes away the remnants of your tears as his hand cards through your hair
Beel
Drops all of his snacks in a flurry to get to you.
Unlike the others, He is looking for injuries- So your personal bubble is feeling a little violated
Once you tell him you are physically fine, His shoulders relax some and he takes a step away from you and says that he’s sorry for running up on you like that.
Gentle giant mode activated, Is gonna talk to you like he does Belphie, Asking what’s wrong and how he can help.
He feels so much responsibility for you, As he does all of his family, And is so crushed that he can’t go back in time and help you
He starts to think about what makes him cheer up and asks if you’d want to go to Madame Screams with him, If yes then he would put in all of his effort to making you forget all of your troubles
If no, He get’s it! Sometimes he doesn’t wanna go out either, He’ll just offer to go and pick up whatever you like from anywhere, No matter what! 
He wishes he could do more but sharing a dessert with you sounds like a good start.
Belphie
Blinks twice, Trying to see if he was seeing things right
Will make his way over to you in confusion, “Hey what’s wrong?” 
You decide whether you actually tell him or not, he’s chill either way- He understands why you would and wouldn’t want to talk to him about it
He isn’t the best at comforting but he does what he can, He’ll move y’all to your bed and will even give you his special cow pillow
Will start talking about random things, anything and everything- Letting his voice will you to sleep, Making sure that all of your dreams are nothing but happy days, Days he’d hope to make a reality soon.
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Hey! Fancy seeing you here, I get that this post was a little heavy on the feelings, I just wanted everyone out there to know that You are not alone- No matter what you are going through and that my Dms and inbox are always open if you need to vent or just to talk in general, My blog is a safe space to anybody who needs it 🖤
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barnes1031 · 4 months
Text
oh baby!
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem! Reader. 
Summary: Reader found some pictures of bucky as a baby and ends up more in love than she already was. 
Before reading: English is not my first language so sorry for the spelling mistakes, Everything that is written here is with the help of the translator.
You was sitting on the couch using her phone when Steve walked in with a box in his arms. 
"Hey, Tony wanted to trash this old stuff, you want to take a look before you throw it all away?"
Steve smiles dropping the box on the table in front of her before giving her a smile and walking away. He nods again and says goodbye, you smile back at him before nodding as well,you put your phone aside and start going through the box, you open it inspecting what was inside before picking up a notebook, its cover had a red color with gold engraved letters almost blurring, You blow a little to disperse the dust and your fingers caress the golden letters and then you open the notebook after several pages looking for something interesting, you smile when you see several pictures among them some babies and what seemed to be Howard Stark with Steve and Bucky. 
With still a smile on your lips, you get up from the couch close the box and walk straight to the room you share with your boyfriend, without waiting for permission you enter the room in search of your beloved. 
"Bucky?"
You sit on the bed as you wait for him to come out of the bathroom, Bucky heard you and quickly came out to see what you needed. 
"Yes, doll?"
He smiles at you before walking over to you, you see him sit down next to you and take your hands.
 "Were you crying?"
he sits down next to you as he takes your hands and looks at your worried face. 
You let out a chuckle as he shakes his head. 
 "There's nothing wrong with me, just.... Look." 
You take the pictures next to you before showing them to him, Bucky smiles before taking the pictures in his hand and kisses your hundred.
"Where did you find them?" 
He raises an eyebrow as he continues to look at the pictures, he thought he had no memory of when he was a baby anymore.
"Steve handed me a box and I found them while going through them."
You shrug sheepishly, bucky laughs and pushes you onto the bed still holding the picture in his hand. 
 "doll, were you crying about that?"
You laugh and then deny as you stroke his hair falling over your face. 
 "No, it's just that you were SO CUTE as a baby!!! And even now, babe!" 
You let out a giggle and push him off turning him around, now you're on top of him taking over. 
 "you're so cute I cry, babe."
You say with a smile, bucky leans over to kiss you sweetly.
"that's not true, you are so cute and cuddly I can cry about it".
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
PS: I wrote it a long time ago, it's the first time i posted this so I'm embarrassed, I still don't know whether to edit it or fix things but this is how it turned out in the end. lol
Everything is here, it is written by me, I don't need anyone to translate it, so all rights reserved, if you see this same writing or similar to this please tag me!! It is my original writing.
Xoxo-shay 😽💋
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storiesoflilies · 4 months
Text
Of Angels and Curses
Synopsis - In a world where Angels and Curses are locked in a never ending war, an unsuspecting seraph becomes entangled with the very thing she is fated to eradicate.
Pairings - Curse!Toji Fushiguro x f!Angel!Reader. Curse!Ryomen Sukuna x Reader. Angel!Satoru Gojo x Reader.
Warnings - General descriptions of violence and injuries, eventual smut.
A/N: I will be editing Chapter 1 as I’m not really happy with the format of it. I will let you guys know when I finish doing that, but there won’t be any major changes, just some more details here and there. I’m still getting back into the swing of writing again! Anyways, enjoy this chapter and let me know your thoughts :) Ko-Fi.
Next part — Chapter 3
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-•-
Chapter 2
From that moment onwards, Y/N’s life was almost never her own. 
Gojo dove straight into his duties as her soon-to-be husband; he ate with her, fought alongside her, and prayed with her every night before she slept. If customs didn’t dictate otherwise, he probably would have bathed with and slept beside her too. It was obviously to bond with her, to know her and create more intimacy outside the ties of marriage, but Y/N would have preferred them to continue the way they had before; right up until their vows were promised, and their names written together in between a cluster of stars to form a new constellation.
Was that delaying the inevitable? Perhaps.
He also started sparring with her, which Y/N had otherwise done with Nanami ever since Geto was promoted, and was intensely invested in training her himself. Gojo was desperate, it was obvious from how his eyes gleamed dangerously every time she misstepped, every time she fumbled into him; and Y/N didn’t know how, or why, but she knew it had everything to do with Geto.
��You need to be stronger than before because of who you are now,” Gojo said, looking far too calm and collected, a tense facade, as he looked down at her heaving with exertion. “Even if you’ll never fight without me.”
That particular morning, after yet another gruelling session, Y/N had been too exhausted and in agony to even descend and fight. Gojo had taken it upon himself to cover her duties for her, and so she stood there on the grassy plains of the training grounds after he had disappeared; using up all of her mental willpower for her knees not to buckle to the ground in front of the other seraphim. There was immediate pressure on Y/N following her engagement, Angels she’d known her whole life now avoided looking at her directly, their voices shaking with reverence if they so happened to speak to her. Her new role gave her power, but expected it returned tenfold; she was expected to be an apparition, an untouchable deity that was always composed and poised. Y/N felt their heavy gazes upon her all the time, daring her to give in and fall, and felt a flash of rage course through her that settled into its usual constant underlying discontent.
Why did she feel so much anger? Was it her soul protesting its dismay over her choice to marry Gojo, it’s grief manifesting as constant rage?
How could she feel a loss so deeply for someone she’d never even met?
“He is pushing you too hard,” Nanami’s familiar voice commented from behind her, snapping Y/N out of her inner turmoil. 
A sour look was plastered on his face, but there was genuine concern in his hazel eyes; a warmth in them that he never cared to admit he had, but it was there, like a candle flickering determinedly as a reminder it was still there. Nanami had still stuck to his same routine, sparring with other Angels during her sessions with Gojo, which meant he had clearly been observing every part of her new regime. It wasn’t that Gojo was cruel to her, there was just simply no way Y/N could keep up with or even reach an equal level to his power, but she understood why the Nanami thought he was. She had no special powers of her own; her wings were just large enough to fly herself, and she barely controlled any divine power – but just enough to smite her enemies. However, her physical strength and weapon proficiency were her strong suits, which was why her and Nanami were a powerful duo that often worked together on the battlefield; they were nearly equal in terms of raw talent, two becaming one when they drew swords together.
“I’m getting stronger,” Y/N answered back, her face slightly scrunched up with pain as she started to take small steps forward. “And I have to be, I’m going to be his wife.”
Nanami said nothing at this, and walked alongside her in silence as they headed back to Gojo’s tower. She was grateful for his solid presence, it was reassuring in case she stumbled; they’d already seen each other at their worst, it didn’t matter what she did now. They passed through the grand doorway of the tower, and Y/N immediately hurried towards a padded chair in the main common room as the last of her resolve crumbled away into dust. Nanami closed the entrance doors behind them, shielding them from the outside, and since there was nobody in the immediate vicinity, Y/N could safely let out a large sigh of relief as she melted into the chair. She heard the clink of glass and a pouring noise, and her eyes drifted over to see Nanami offering her a clear glass of water.
Y/N murmured a thank you as she cradled the glass. He turned away from her, looking out of one of the windowed marble archways at the passing seraphim, with his hands held pensively behind his back. Like the rest of Gojo’s tower, the common room dripped with obnoxious opulence; intricate tapestries and paintings decorating the walls, all of them depicting ancient great battles between Angels and Curses. The numerous seating arrangements were made of oakwood, with velvet padding for comfort, enabling many to sit throughout the room. Warm sunlight filtered through the marble archways, basking the room in the light of the midday sun, and a slight breeze tenderly kissed Nanami’s golden hair.
“Always so deep in thought,” Y/N teased as she slowly sipped her water. “Don’t you have other places to be?”
“It can wait, I just wanted to stay and make sure you’re alright,” he replied, still not looking at her. “As I said, he is pushing you too hard.”
“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. Besides, you’ve wasted enough time accompanying me home when you need to be out.”
“You’re obviously in pain, you think I was going to risk you falling and crawling back undignified? Absolutely not, I have respect for you that has been there even before Satoru proposed.”
Y/N didn’t know what to say to that. Nanami respected and acknowledged Gojo’s supreme strength and value to the Angels, but he was never fond of his character. He believed the Six Eyes was obnoxious; completely unaware of the wide effects of his influence and power, and lacked true empathy for anybody outside his inner circle. She had hoped her engagement would make Nanami more partial, seeing as how it was her own choice to become tied to Gojo, but it obviously wasn’t working – and maybe it never would. 
The pair settled into a tranquil silence as they watched the day go by; her own time, a rare moment without Gojo infiltrating it, or anybody else coming to her for decisions on wedding preparations – not that Y/N was actually in charge of anything, it was more a courtesy to let her know what was to be done. She was aware how harsh she sounded, as if she couldn’t stand Gojo just like Nanami couldn’t, but that was far from the truth. She just wanted to stay in silence, peace and quiet, with someone choosing to share her space with as an equal rather than consume it; perhaps Nanami understood that without ever having to hear it directly from her lips, she always did underestimate his compassion and intuition for others emotions.
It didn’t last long. 
“Ah Nanami, so good to see you!” Gojo’s voice called out from the entrance, announcing his return with a great clap of his hands as he joyfully traipsed into the tower. A number of his followers filtered in behind him, like honey bees following the scent of their queen.
Satoru Gojo carried no weapons during battle, as his divine power was wielded through his hands, and they had to remain as free as possible. His silver and gold armour gleamed in the sun, not a single drop of Curse blood offending its cleanliness, his hair tousled and wild from battle; and he walked with a swagger, his entire being oozing confidence, completely untroubled by the weight of the world. Y/N felt a spark of pride, a sense of awe that crept up on her suddenly when she lay awake in the dead of night unable to sleep.
Of all Angels, Gojo is going to be my husband.
“I’ll take my leave now Gojo, I was just ensuring your future wife is well,” Nanami quipped, but still respectfully bowing his head at Gojo, while sparing a glance at Y/N with a much softer look. 
Gojo’s smile never faltered, “You have my thanks, I’ll take care of her now.”
Nanami nodded to her as he left, and she smiled at him. She hoped he knew just how much she appreciated his unwavering solidarity for her, and how much she missed him; fighting alongside him was like singing a song only the two of them knew the words to, safe and familiar. Gojo sat beside her, holding his hands together as if he was anxious, and his smile dropped completely.
“I’m sorry, are you alright? I didn’t mean to push you so hard,” Gojo asked, worry evidently lacing his words. It was strange, like he didn’t know how to handle her anymore, and she realized this new dynamic was as foreign to her as it was to him.
“It’s ok Gojo,” Y/N said as reassuringly as she could, squeezing his hand in a comforting gesture. “I know I need to do this.”
He immediately perked up at her touch, ethereal eyes twinkling with just a hint of mischief. This was something she had learned during their time bonding together; Satoru Gojo instantly responded to physical affection, and returned it intensely. It had taken sometime to adjust to, because it was something she never thought to expect from him, but Y/N felt that wide crack in her soul grow smaller with every one of his embraces; as her doubts drifted away, his cooling aura drawing her into him like a prayer.
“You’re already far better than you were a month ago, you’ve been working hard,” he praised, leaning back into the chair as he tenderly swung his arm around her. “I think I might be a good teacher you know?”
She giggled, a delicate tinkling noise, “Of course, shall we go and eat something so we can do it all over again?”
“Ah good idea! You stay here, I’ll bring some food for us,” Gojo chuckled, brushing his temple into hers, stray hairs tickling her forehead, before getting up and sauntering towards the food hall. 
Y/N sighed when he had passed out of earshot, her weariness and frustration returning at the thought of having to exert her limits once more. How much did Gojo had to have pushed himself to become limitless? Or was the Six Eyes born limitless, unable to comprehend how much a single Angel could be stretched before snapping? Would he ever come to understand when he became her husband, and would she ever uncover the sheer magnitude of his power when she became his wife?
She was overwhelmed, but marrying Satoru Gojo was never going to be easy. 
You have to get through this. You made your choice.
Y/N heard his familiar footfall approaching and quickly composed herself.
“Here we are!” Gojo exclaimed as he carried two plates laden with food, plopping down beside her again and handing her a plate. 
They dug into their meal whilst discussing their wedding, the newly appointed Sky Sentries, as well as their mutual concerns about the increasing number of deeper layer Curses emerging. More of Gojo’s followers entered the tower, relieved from their duties as the sun sank further down the sky; casting shy glances towards them despite their obvious exhaustion. At the start of their engagement, Gojo had thrown menacing glares towards anybody lingering within earshot of them conversing, and the seraphim had quickly learned to leave the couple alone. Y/N discerned that it was part of his unwillingness to let any Angel be privy to a even a slightly deeper side of him, as if it angered him to give a piece of himself to anybody he didn’t deem worthy enough.
“Don’t you think it’s strange, that this is finally happening to us?” she asked after some time, their meals long since finished and lighter conversations passed. 
“What, us getting married? It took me long enough to ask,” Gojo replied, an easygoing aura to him that seemed to only seemed to come out the longer they spent time together.
Y/N smiled nervously, twisting her fingers as mustered up the courage to ask, “Well, what made you decide then?”
Gojo’s eyes darkened, his ease falling dramatically like a heavy cloak, and he looked away. He didn’t seem inclined to answer, and she internally scolded herself for asking when she probably wasn’t ready to hear the answer, or never really needed to know.
“I don’t want to just be the strongest,” he finally said, looking at her but not directly into her eyes; like she was playing the part of the benevolent apparition. “Geto thinks that’s all I am, and that’s all I’ll ever be, he said so the last time I saw him. I want to end this war, but I don’t want our entire existence to be about it. I want to build a legacy that’s not just about my power, and you’re the only one left I care about that I want to build that legacy with.”
She froze. 
So… I’m just a means to an end? 
“It wouldn’t matter if my soulmate was here right now either,” Gojo continued, looking at her intensely. “I never planned to marry anybody else but you, I only trust you now.”
“You wouldn’t trust your own soulmate?” 
“No, I don’t know them. How can I have any trust?”
Y/N nodded silently, mulling his words over in her head. She was unsure of how to respond, and Gojo didn’t seem to want to converse anymore; he was all taut, his muscles pulled tight and ready to lash out if he didn’t find a release soon. And so they sat together watching the day turn into night, until he was summoned to fight once more.
-•-
She woke gasping for air, her body fighting back from returning to land of the living as the warm tendrils of her dreams begrudgingly released her from their grasp; still whispering to her of delightful vengeance, promises of pleasure and freedom, and pain. So much pain. Y/N frowned, her fingers splayed across her bare stomach, a familiar shard of loss tearing through her.
Why is it so cold?
She felt like she’d experienced this a thousand times before, her heart aching from an age old ailment that could never be healed. Her soul was floating downwards and out of her body, just like the Angels fleeing from their punishment of sinning, but forever doomed to remain experiencing it over and over.
A prompt rapping at her door pulled her from her state of limbo, snapping her soul back into place.
”I hope you slept well,” Gojo greeted, the door only slightly ajar to preserve her privacy. “Nanami and I are waiting outside for you, come join us when you’re ready.”
Y/N composed herself, the coldness dissipating almost as quickly as it came, and hastily donned her armour and sheathed her katanas. Gojo’s urgency was unnerving, as well as the fact that Nanami would be there as well. She huffed, shaking off the remnants of her dreams from her shoulders, displeased from her lack of knowledge. The street outside was shaded in the shadow of the towers; the sun still not yet high enough over the city to cast the light of the dawn over Heaven. Gojo was lazily stretching his thick arms over his head, not a care in the world, and Nanami stood looking away from him – not looking particularly pleased. 
“Good, you’re here!” Gojo exclaimed as he noticed her, instantly interlinking his hands with hers. 
“What’s all this about?”
Gojo looked at Nanami expectantly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Nanami sighed, already tired of having to repeat his tale like a mysterious storyteller. “I picked up the start of an odd trail yesterday just before nightfall, and so I couldn’t pursue it. I requested that you and I track the Curse that left it.”
“Naturally, I have to accompany you both on this,” Gojo interjected, earning a scowl from Nanami. “I swore to protect Y/N from any harm. Besides, this is a good opportunity to see you both fight, I’ve heard you’re a formidable pair.”
Without skipping a beat, he placed a hand on her and Nanami’s shoulders, and Y/N sucked in a breath as her psyche was stretched across the Unlimited Void. She wondered if Nanami was fighting to keep his mind closed from the Six Eyes prying, or if he even cared to shield himself; Nanami was simply incapable of sin, he was too in control of himself. On the other hand, Gojo handled her soul with more care in the Void; still overwhelming as before, but his essence didn’t control her so much – she had some freedom to take in the infinite space around her.
Within seconds, they were standing at the edge of a charred forest; the air thick with smoke and dust, leaves of the trees long since been burned away, and only their remains stood bent and broken like the bones of spindly skeleton. A lone mountain loomed overhead, spewing ash as if it was preparing to spit down on them. Y/N hated that initial breath on Earth, it reeked of death and sulphur – the smell of Curses and Hell that could never be washed away.
“Ahhh, isn’t this so much nicer than descending through all the gates?” Gojo remarked, his nose turned up as if he too was offended by the smell and ugliness of the burnt forest. 
“Descending through the gates is a mark of respect for those guarding it,” Nanami murmured, taking in his surroundings. “I heard you spent much of your power during last night’s battle, this seems like an unnecessary expense of your energy.”
”Bahh, nothing I can’t handle.”
Y/N ignored them and crouched down, concentrating hard to visualize the lingering energy imprinted in the soil. Viridescent wisps flickered in and out of sight, settling into a singular writhing root that seemed to extend from deep within her core. She knew this energy; it was like rediscovering long lost ancient knowledge from eons past, only to find that she’d never really forgotten it in the first place.
She pointed a finger towards the forest.
”There, do you see it Nanami?”
He nodded, and Gojo towered over her from behind as he studied the trace too.
”This energy… have either of you ever felt anything like this?” He questioned, his excitement palpable like a child unwrapping a gift.
Gojo didn’t skip a beat before answering anyways, “The only kind of Curse that leaves energy traces like this are their Kings. I’m guessing maybe a Third or even Second Layer King has left these.”
He was unnaturally giddy, nearly bursting with glee at the prospect of unbridled violence; the outlet for him to finally unleash himself upon. Y/N sprang up and stepped back from him. A Curse King hadn’t been killed in centuries, they rarely emerged from the depths to fight at night, much less during the daylight; surely Gojo didn’t think there was one running rampant on the Earth at this very moment?
“Gojo, you can’t be serious.”
“I am, let’s see if we can hunt it down. There’s a chance it mightn’t have descended yet.”
Gojo motioned with his head for them to follow, and he set out at a brisk run through the forest. Y/N understood why Nanami didn’t waste time yesterday trying to follow its tracks; the energy followed no clear pattern, as if the Curse had sprung up from the Hells just to jump around for the fun of it. Nanami and her kept a similar pace beside each other, while the Six Eyes forged on ahead like he was on a warpath. Perhaps it was Nanami’s previous comment, but Y/N noted Gojo seemed… erratic. When was the last time he properly slept, or even ate? That wild look in his eyes promised savage violence against his prey and anything else standing in his way, and she pursed her lips with worry; was he really in the right mindset to fight a Curse King? 
The landscape barely changed as they traversed the forest, burnt trees were all that was left from the destruction of Curses. It would have once been a mighty forest lush with life, but now there was only death to be seen for leagues and leagues as far as Y/N could see. Sadly, most of the Earth was scorched, and almost nowhere safe from Sukuna’s reign of fire and terror. What little life that grew were in various Angel strongholds scattered leagues and leagues from each other, and even then it wasn’t more than a pitiful bunches of daisies destined to be crushed underneath a soldiers boot. The strongholds were placed as closely as possible to areas of high Cursed activity, known points from which a large volume of Curses ascended from Hell; places the Angels could launch their attacks on emerging threats. They finally reached a clearing in the forest, a tombstone of burnt earth over what should have been vibrant grass, as the sun climbed to its midway point in the sky. Gojo stopped abruptly, his knuckles cracking loudly.
“Nanami, can you detect any traces?” He inquired, his evident frustration complimented with an irritated expression on his face. It was a last ditch effort, almost useless – if the Six Eyes himself couldn’t trace it, nobody else could. 
Nanami said nothing as he sidestepped Gojo’s wings, blue eyes flashing wildly upon his white feathers, and observed the ground as he tread farther on ahead, disappearing from view. Y/N moved to stand in front of him, peering up at him with worry. 
“Satoru,” she whispered, tilting her head to encourage him to look at her.
His eyes flitted down to her, uncaring. “Hmm?”
”I don’t think it’s here anymore, the Curse must have descended.”
”Tsk, maybe you’re right. It doesn’t matter, that thing won’t live through the night. I’ll hunt it when the sun sets.”
Y/N smiled, knowing well enough that he would keep his promise.
A black flash sliced through the air.
Their blood spilled from a sword buried to the hilt through both their midriffs.
White hot pain coursed through her.
And then, a tidal wave of raw energy crashed over her as she stared at their assailant behind Gojo. 
And stared.
And he stared right back at her.
It was a Curse, but he looked much more like an Angel would. He was tall and handsome and made of rippling muscle, like the waves of the sea during a storm; radiating just as much powerful energy, charging the air with a brutal force that demanded attention unlike anything Y/N had ever felt before. His black hair fell over deep forest green eyes that pierced right through to her soul, forcing another shockwave of his energy into her; and she took it gladly, maybe even eagerly, greedily. He glanced from her to Gojo then back to her, as if trying to figure out who they were to each other, and his eyes widened a fraction at her as he loosened the grip on his weapon ever so slightly. 
She knew who he was.
She’d seen him a thousand times before this moment.
That dangerous gleam deep within his irises were so familiar to her, promising her violent delights full of sin that only he could deliver.
Y/N knew him from dreams buried deep within her soul; she’d walked with him through the ages, through time and space itself.
She was so deep in their trance she barely felt Gojo’s hands on her shoulders, and before Y/N could register anything he was pushing her away from him. His blade passed through her once more, her blood bursting forth from her mouth and gushing wound, and she collapsed to the ground as there was a blast of blue energy. Y/N weakly raised her head, her vision clouded with black spots, and her ears rang loud and true like the bells in Heaven. Still, she could make out Gojo standing defensively in front of her, and the Curse crouched some distance ahead, his head bowed and raven hair obscuring his facial features.
Her heart beat faster; the weaves of fate had finally been tied together, and there was no escaping it now.
”You’re fast, but something’s off with you, King,” Gojo sneered, his palms poised and ready to unleash his power once more.
He rushed forward at the Curse, and Y/N screamed as she was carelessly flung back through the air from the backlash of energy as both Angel and Curse clashed together in a flurry of slashes; the sky sporadically lighting up with hues of red and blue. Her head smacked into a tree trunk, vision nearly completely blackened now, and more blood trickled down her face as Y/N sensed her wing bones were crushed from the collision; making sickening crunching noises as she hacked up more blood. 
What is happening? 
Y/N felt his confusion, overwhelming rage that could have set fire to her soul, and perplexing elation that disoriented her.
Their bond had set, her soul was complete; and she knew what it was he wanted.
Oh God help me, he’s in me. 
Run. Now.
Gojo’s voice reverberated painfully through her head, and Y/N grunted and gritted her teeth as she willed her vision to return, but was barely able to move herself. She screamed in agony and anger, trying again, her wound threatening to tear her in two as her legs managed, albeit shakily, to keep her upright. Her head swam as Nanami’s face engulfed her field of vision, sharply inhaling in pain as he pressed his hand onto her stomach while shouting something to her. His words were muffled, she couldn’t make out any clear words, and her eyes drifted behind him. Y/N couldn’t see neither Gojo nor him. She felt Nanami sling her arm around his neck, hoisting her from the ground as her head rolled forward and panic gripped her like a vice.
“Nanami, no,” she heaved, shaking her head wildly, her vision and hearing clearing only just slightly. “Nanami.”
“We need to ascend, you can’t fly can you?”
She shook her head again. Nanami’s wings were just like hers, large enough to fly himself but not enough to support another beings weight, and Gojo was too distracted fighting to send them back to Heaven through the Void. 
They were both stuck until the Six Eyes won his battle. 
“Nanami,” Y/N sobbed, her words a blubbery mess, “That Curse, I can’t-.”
“Don’t worry, Gojo can handle it. We need to get to safety, otherwise we’ll be killed in their crossfire.”
“No no no Nanami, no. The Curse, it’s - he’s - my soulmate. I can’t leave.”
Nanami halted, “Are you quite certain?”
Y/N could only nod, and Nanami paused to look back over his shoulder, “You’re too injured, we have to go.”
“Nanami, please. Please!” She begged, gasping as she tried to dig her heels into the earth, flailing against his strong hold on her.
Nanami looked torn as he gazed down at her with such pity, as if he shared her heartbreak and pain, and murmured, “Y/N, I can’t help you. I can’t fight the Six Eyes. He’s too strong for either of us.”
Y/N shuddered as her limbs gave out, her head rolling forward. Would she feel it when Gojo ended his life, her soul ripping from his like tearing flesh from bone? Nanami hoisted her up again, apologies falling from his lips like prayers as he carried her farther away from him. 
“Well well, seems like you Angels come in threes! How unbelievably lucky!”  Both of them looked up sharply at the figure chuckling in front of them; undoubtedly a Curse, its energy rhythmically pulsating from it, enveloping them in a mist of negativity and hopelessness. It had a strange shade of long silver hair, even stranger haphazard stitches all across its body, and mismatched coloured eyes that glinted with fake sympathy that masked a malicious intent. 
Nanami set Y/N down gently as he unsheathed his blade.
”Hmm, I wonder if killing three Angels is considered lucky too?” It pondered, almost childishly considering an answer to its own question. 
Nanami didn’t hesitate after that.
He launched towards the Curse, swinging his blade in a great swooping arc. The Curse giggled and crossed its arms to block the attack; lilac energy sparking off from where the blade hit it. 
”You’re strong!” The Curse exclaimed cheerfully, wonderfully naive. “This is going to be such fun.”
Its unsettling gaze fixated on her, and Y/N tensed in fear; she was far too vulnerable, unable to defend herself if it decided to come at her. Nonetheless, her bloodied hands reached for her katanas.
A flash of anger, his anger.
The silver haired Curse tore its gaze from her as Nanami took another swing at it, and they danced together in a deadly whirl of his blade and lilac fists of cursed energy; neither of them able to land a proper blow on the other. Y/N staggered backwards as it reached out to her, gripping her katanas defensively as Nanami grabbed it by the leg and, with a great display of strength, flung it backwards and away from her. Y/N frowned as three small oddly shaped clods flew through the air, and thudded at her feet.
Instantaneously, they all erupted into life. 
She barely had time to react as they metamorphosed into grotesque Curses, snarling and spitting unintelligible words, and she slashed at the closest one to her. Another barrelled into the right side of her, knocking the wind out of her, and she stabbed her blade into it as she was pushed into the dirt. The last one seemed to be waiting for her to make a move, swaying back and forth on its hind legs like a disfigured frog, babbling yes yes yes! over and over again. Y/N sliced its clawed hands, the severed limbs flying through the air, and brought down both her katanas through its head. Her heart hammered in her chest, life force rapidly draining as her blades slipped from the hilts sullied with her spent blood.
Perhaps they were both meant to die today. Maybe they were meant to lock eyes upon each other for the first and only time, and then shut them forever as their souls passed on to the next world. But was there any version of the afterlife where they could be together? He was a Curse, she was an Angel, and God hadn’t made a paradise for them to co-exist.
What was the point of it all?
Her pain was dulled now, her heart slowing. Her legs finally failed her and sent her to the ground, her blood pooling around her. 
“Y/N I’m here, don’t give up.”
Nanami was pressing a hand down on her stomach, and Y/N’s broke for him. Half his body was severely burned, pale pink flesh rippling in the sunlight; his armour and wings in tatters, as his blood dripped from an empty eye socket onto her face. He looked haunted, desperately fighting a lonely losing battle of holding onto both their lives, the inevitable mercilessly creeping forward like hungry rats ready to devour them.
”Nanami, go,” she mumbled, pushing against him weakly. 
She didn’t notice the crown of silver behind him until it was too late; the Curse placed a hand delicately on Nanami’s exposed flesh, as if caressing a blossom that threatened to fall apart. 
Still, Nanami smiled at her like he was seeing her again after a long time.
No no no.
”Y/N, I’ll see you again. You take it from here.”
And then her golden haired guardian burst into nothingness right in front of her eyes; showering her in a cooling mist of his blood, an almost soothing farewell.
Time stopped. 
Y/N took a deep breath in, her weak body rattling in shock as tears rolled down her cheeks, and the Curse kneeled in front of her. 
“There there,” it cooed, and she closed her eyes, shuddering in disgust as she felt it stroke the feathers of her wings. 
“Just end me already,” she rasped, a last cough sputtering out as she spoke, her final display of whatever strength she had left.
Defiance… and his desperation. 
The Curse cocked its head at her, as if it was the most bizarre thing she could have said.
”Why? Your soul has the strength of more than one, it would be a waste.”
It wrapped its hands around her neck, smiling softly at her as Y/N’s eyes fluttered open and searing heat spread across her back. The sky started to seem farther away, like it was shrinking. No, the Earth was crumbling away underneath her, like she was sinking into her own grave that kept on extending further and further. The Curse stayed put on top of her, a hue of bright red appearing behind it as the last glimpse of the Earth faded away into nothingness. 
She succumbed into darkness after that. 
-•-
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shadow4-1 · 6 months
Text
Man Thoughts - Ghost Edition (SFW & NSFW)
Just starting a new lil' thing where I try to get into the many thoughts of the COD boys. It helps me write but it's also just kind of fun to characterize these dudes. (MDNI! NSFW Under The Cut)
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(These are thoughts Lt. would probably never voice to you, but are thinking in his head.)
-Who let you in 'ere? And why're you so bloody small?
-You're a medic? Tch, you're a lil' bird is what you are. Wouldn't last 5 minutes on the field.
-Price can't be serious about this. M' gonna be the one who has to carry your dead body to evac. Fuckin' hell.
* * * *
-You're funnier than Johnny, I'll give you that. Need t' work on your execution though. I c' hardly understand the joke if you're gigglin' all the way through the bloody delivery.
-You need t' learn to stop smilin' at men like that. Gonna attract some bad kind of attention. N' then m' gonna have to drag some poor sod off o' ya.
-This is gonna be a fun report to write for Price. M' sure he'll agree th' fucker deserved it fer layin' a hand on you like that.
-'F you walk 'n front of me one more bloody time m' gonna have t' grab a handful.
-Fockin' hell. It's a wonder you're not married with a fuckin' rack like that sittin' pretty on your chest.
-Yeah, that's non-reg soap I smell on you. Who're you tryna impress, lil' bird? Hidin' a new piece?
-Aren't thigh high socks an American thing? Either way you're a minx is what you are. Fuck. If you tempt me even a lil' I'm rippin' those straight off your legs.
-What is your obsession with breakin' dress code? I can see everything in those shorts, lil' bird. N' so can every man on base. Are y' lookin' to get dragged off n' fucked? Cause that's what's gonna happen if you don't put on some real clothes soon.
-How fuckin' forgetful are you? Here, just take m' fuckin' jacket, love. I can see your nipples peeking out through your shirt. Next time m' gonna make you flash me before I help you out again.
-Stop sayin' you stink, love. If I had m' way I'd lick you from cunt to ass right now. You smell fuckin' divine.
-So that's what your pretty little lips taste like. Wonder if the others taste the same.
-Wonder how many times I could make you come in one night. Look like a squirter, you do.
-Fuckin' brat. 'F Johnny wasn't here I'd bend you over my knee right now. Keep pushing m' buttons and see if I don't fuck you in the ass for it.
-You have no idea how bad I need you right now.
-If anyone else tries to see you like this m' a kill 'em. Only I can see your body like this. Fuck, you're perfect.
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