#But he'd end up failing by making it all about himself and then doing his dance at her which would just creep her out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theonotti · 2 days

Text

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Years have past since the Battle of Hogwarts, and through his grief and desperation, Theo fights to get back every second lost since then.

Warnings: Major Character Death (Not Theo), it's just angst lads

Notes: Been a while! But I'm back with some writing! This fic will be 3 parts in total. Shoutout to @classyartisanpizza for letting me write this idea! <3

Masterlist

The nightmares are the worst part.

It's always the nightmares.

Theo wakes with a start, his chest heaving as he abruptly sits up. It takes a moment of his eyes darting around in fear for him to realise he's simply in bed. No battle. No green bursts of light flying inches from his head. No bodies dropping around him.

He closes his eyes, running his hand down his face to rid the beads of sweat rolling down his skin. Though he forces himself to take deep breaths, his heart continues to race. The room feels so warm. Why does the room feel so warm? His chestnut curls fall over his eyes, slightly matted to his forehead, and for the briefest of moments, he considers shaving his head.

The vivid technicolor of the nightmares always gets him. Blaring realism and exaggerated memories have him waking in a panic without fail.

A hand runs up Theo's lower back, followed by a soft voice speaking in tongues and distortion. A chill runs up his spine as his fight or flight kicks into high gear, causing him to jump off the bed and point his wand directly at the perpetrator.

Daphne Greengrass stares back at him, looking mainly annoyed yet mildly confused as she wraps the sheet around her naked form. There's a long, tense silence as the two of them stare at each other, and despite knowing there's no threat, Theo doesn't bother to lower his wand.

"I thought I said no sleeping over."

His voice is clipped, a stark contrast from the sultry tone he had taken with her the night before. Then again, he doesn't ever have to work in order for Daphne to become putty in his hands. Not really. Him putting on the show just makes him feel better about using her.

She sits up slightly, brushing a few strands of hair out of her face. Even in the dark, the blush that fills her cheeks is unmissable.

"You fell asleep and I-"

"That's not an invitation."

You're such an asshole, He tells himself. But he can't help it. The point of the rule was so that he'd never have to wake up to Daphne. She's not ugly, or entirely terrible to be around. But his care for her only extends to the point of what she does for him. A means to an end. And the end is to distract him from the never ending abyss of his mind and the standing void in his chest.

Besides, that spot in the bed belongs to someone else.

Belonged-

No. Belongs.

Another beat passes before Theo realises that his wand is still raised, and he finally lowers it to his side. Although he should feel worse about his overreaction, he's only a slight tinged embarrassed. It's being overshadowed by his annoyance.

Daphne takes a moment to stare at him, her eyes searching his face for the humour that never comes. A quiet sigh of relief escapes his mouth when she finally climbs out of his bed and starts to get dressed.

"What are you doing later?" She asks while pulling her shirt over her head.

The clock on the wall reads quarter till three in the morning.

Theo tries to hide his smug irritation at the fact that she's already trying to plan when she sees him again, despite his complete disregard for her only moments ago.

When he doesn't respond right away, Daphne looks over at him, throwing a sock off his floor right at his face. In another life, with another person, Theo would've found this gesture amusing, but right now, he just stares at her in exasperation.

"I'm busy."

Merlin, you're a fucking asshole.

But Daphne remains unfazed as she pulls her jeans up her legs and fastens them.

"Maybe next week then? I'm working all weekend."

And despite his self awareness, Theo just can't fucking help himself.

"I'll call you."

Now he's done it. The sting ripples through her face as she pauses all movement, her eyes falling back on him. Under her confused gaze, the temperature in the room falls, but Theo keeps his expression neutral. For a long moment, they just stare at each other in tense silence, before finally Daphne breaks the prolonged eye contact to finish putting her trainers on.

"I don't understand why we keep doing this, Theo," She says in a low voice as she ties her right shoe. It's clear she's trying to be more confident in her words than hurt, but she's failing. "You clearly don't want to commit to me or even care about me. Why do you keep phoning if you can't be bothered?"

Theo leans his back against the wall, his shoulder brushing the door frame of his bedroom. The words leave his mouth before he's able to process them, or to consider not saying them.

"Because you always come running."

Twenty years on this planet and you still don't know when to shut your bloody mouth.

Daphne looks appalled as the words hang in the air. Despite the fact that Theo's guilt is radiating off of him and filling the room at a suffocating rate, he continues to say nothing else. An eternity later, she snatches her coat off the floor and storms out of the room, slamming Theo's bedroom door so loudly that he flinches, followed by the slamming of the front door of his flat.

Silence.

Theo pushes off the wall, walking over to his bed and collapsing on top of the covers.

Silence.

As he buries his face in the pillow, desperate to go back to sleep, his mind starts to drift back to the nightmare that started the domino effect events of the evening. A chill runs up his spine for a second time as he dives head first into the dreams that haunt his subconscious damn near every time he closes his eyes.

The falling bodies.

The walls crumbling down.

The flashes of bright green flying passed his head.

The set of eyes. His favourites. Watching as the life drains out of them.

Theo abruptly jumps out of his bed, his hands trembling slightly as he walks briskly to the door and throws it open. His flat is dead silent, save the sound of his footsteps across the hardwood floor. Through the darkness, he can make out the faint outline of his black cat moving quickly across the floor towards him.

"Piss off, Shadow," He mutters to the cat. She doesn't seem to notice his hostility as she continues to move between his legs. But he's quite rehearsed in this dance at this point, and manages to cross the pitch black living room without tripping over her and falling on his face. He makes his way to the spare bedroom, the room that used to be where he worked on his potions.

That is, until more important projects grabbed Theo in a chokehold.

Unlocking the door with his wand, he quickly goes inside quickly, making sure the cat didn't follow him through before shutting the door behind him.

"Mattheo, I'm fine."

"Is the kidnapper in the room with you and forcing you to say that?"

Theo rolls his eyes, rubbing his right eyelid with his free hand as his other one stirs the brewing potion in the cauldron in front of him. His phone rests on the desk next to him with his best friend's display name taking over the screen, the call on speaker.

"You think a kidnapper would willingly keep me?" He asks as he lets his free hand drop back to his wooden desk, accidentally into a puddle of spilled potion that had toppled from the cauldron. Making a face, Theo instinctively wipes his fingers off on his jeans. "They'd return me before you'd even realised I'm gone."

Mattheo lets out a quiet laugh before saying, "You're right. I'd say we could use the break, but no one's seen you in weeks."

Theo lets his other hand drop to the desk, sighing exasperatedly.

"Mate. We've just hung out. At the Leaky Cauldron, yeah? When Malfoy got so piss drunk, he fell in the toilets and smacked his face on a sink."

The memory causes a ghost of a smile to form on Theo's face, but the silence on the other end of the phone causes it to fade just as quickly.

"Hello? Did I lose you, Riddle?"

When Mattheo speaks, his voice is uncharacteristically quiet.

"That was two months ago."

Every single muscle in Theo's face slackens.

"What? No. That can't be right. It was just two weeks ago, yeah?"

"No, Theo. It was two months ago."

Shaking his head, Theo grabs his phone, switching to check the date as he stammers whispered denials, more to himself than anything. But Mattheo is right. Two months have passed since that last hangout, and besides the occasional mess around with Daphne, which he assumes are now over since the debacle a few nights prior, Theo hasn't seen anyone else since.

Where did the time go?

You know where the time went.

"We're really worried, mate," Mattheo says in a soft voice. "I know it's been hard, but-"

"Don't," Theo barks, almost instinctively as he sets his phone back on the desk. He knows where this conversation is going, because this is where the conversation always goes.

"It's been almost three years, Theo."

Theo shakes his head, his eyes closing as the air slowly starts to syphon from the room.

"It's not- Surely I can't be expected to just forget."

A quiet sigh rings out from the other side of the phone, as Theo fights to keep his rising emotions in check.

"Of course you wouldn't forget. We just-"

Theo quickly shakes his head, not wanting to hear the same things he always here's when one of his friends decides to play therapist for him.

"Oh shit, I've just remembered I have better things to do than have this conversation."

Theo lifts his hand towards his phone, with the intent to hang up, when he heard Mattheo's desperate voice quickly calling to him.

"Meet in the Three Broomsticks tonight!"

Theo pauses, staring at his phone as his brain starts its usual war on itself whenever someone wants him to do anything that isn't rotting at home. On one hand, going out with his friends would placate them for long enough that they won't have yet another conversation like this one. But on the other handâ€¦

He's close. He's so close to figuring it out. And any time that isn't dedicated to figuring it out is, in his eyes, a complete waste.

But as he stares down at his best friend's name on his phone, he lets out a heavy sigh.

"Piss off."

He can practically hear Mattheo's smug grin in his voice.

"See you there," He says, before promptly hanging up the phone.

A heavy sigh forcing its way out of his mouth, Theo turns back to the cauldron in front of him.

You need a break.

Maybe stepping back for a night and coming back will trigger an epiphany.

Theo lets out a resigned sigh. The last thing he wants to do is step away. When he's away from the work room, he feels like he can't breathe. When he's not working or researching or planning or even contemplating, he feels like he's drowning.

In his head, he's running out of time. But with every centimetre closer he gets to the finish line, he gets another centimetre closer to getting every lost moment back.

The remaining butterbeer swishes circles at the bottom of the glass as Theo twists it with his wrist. A quiet yet fake laugh comes out of his mouth, if only to mix in with the loud, howl-like laughter surrounding him from whatever funny thing Blaise just said.

Merlin, I should've gotten a firewhiskey.

Though, he knows it would've been a bad idea. His tolerance for alcohol has grown concerningly high over the last few years, and he doesn't want to explain why he would've been fully functional after seven hard drinks while his friends would be well beyond wasted.

So he sips his butterbeer under the guise that he has an early morning the next day. If he had more observant friends, they would see through this excuse, but fortunately for him, they tend to miss a lot when it comes down to the quiet, chestnut haired lad whose mind is rarely on planet Earth.

"Oi. Space Cadet. Can you join us for a moment?"

Theo takes a casual drink from his glass as his eyes land on Malfoy.

"Give me something worth joining in on," He quips as he gently sets the glass back down on the table. The blond rolls his eyes as Mattheo and Blaise both let out a chuckle.

"We were just talking about the Harpies. Whether they'll make the cup," Mattheo explains just as the barmaid approaches with their refills. The fresh butterbeer is set down in front of Theo at the same time as he lets out his own laugh. A genuine one, this time.

"The Harpies will make the Cup the same day Malfoy stops bleaching his hair."

Now it's howling laughter from the two other lads as Malfoy slams his mug down on the table, pointing at Theo maliciously.

"Don't start your bullshit, Nott."

"I saw the bottle in your trunk, Malfoy. Third year. One never forgets."

"I don't bleach my fucking hair, and if you say it again, I'll make sure you can't see it ever again."

Theo doesn't miss a beat.

"Is that a promise?"

As Riddle and Zabini keep giggling, the alcohol already to their heads, Theo keeps his wits about him as he stares at the tip of Draco's finger that's still only inches from his face.

"Stand down, Malfoy," Blaise finally interjects. "You've become entirely too serious since getting hitched."

The silver band on that left fourth finger glints in the dim lighting as Draco pulls his arm back down towards his lap. Despite his recoil at the scolding, his eyes don't quite stop glaring their daggers towards Theo, who takes another unbothered sip of his drink.

"Maybe it helped me grow up. Someone should take a page out of that book."

Theo feels his fingers tense around the glass, the heat rushing to his cheeks.

Prick.

Absolute wanker.

Dead man walking.

If my life hadn't fallen apart, I would've been married by now. Maybe I'd even have kids.

A wave of nausea hits him at the thought. Instinctively, his eyes shift to look at the door, as his mind searches for his excuse to leave. If his shift in demeanour isn't obvious to every person at the table, it definitely is to Mattheo, who quickly clears his throat.

"Anyone hear about the hunt for whoever's trying to replicate the time turners?"

Theo's entire body ceases, his throat trapping any sound or breath from escaping, meanwhile his brain starts to race at speeds he has never experienced before. The conversation shifts to this topic as Theo desperately tries to remember how to breathe.

"What's the hold up?" Blaise questions before he empties his glass. Mattheo does the same while lifting his shoulders into a shrug.

"Whoever is doing it, they've covered their tracks quite well. But the Ministry has their best people trying to find them before they're able to muck up anything."

A quiet murmur fills the silence of the table. Sweat beads Theo's forehead as he accidentally chugs his entire glass. No one appears to notice, to his relief.

"How are they able to track that?" Malfoy asks curiously as he drums his fingers against the wood top table.

"A time turner has an Hour Reversal charm encased in the centre," Mattheo explains. "The Ministry is alerted every time one is cast, but whoever is doing it has protected themselves so much that their location is damn near impossible to track." Mattheo pauses to take a drink before he continues. "If it wasn't so infuriating, I'd be impressed."

A slight smirk crosses Malfoy's face before he says, "I take it the 'Ministry's best people' includes your team?"

Mattheo rolls his eyes, though the slight pink hue that covers his cheeks is unmissable. Despite him being nothing like his father, Mattheo has always been slightly embarrassed by his position in the Ministry. While Zabini, Malfoy and Theo all view it as a growth and a middle finger to Voldemort and the Death Eaters, Mattheo sometimes views it as a betrayal, though he only mentions it after he's hit a certain point of inebriation.

"It is a job for the Misuse of Magic department, in my opinion. So yeah, the best people include my team."

Silence fills the table as everyone takes a sip of their drinks. Theo swallows the lump in his throat.

And then he speaks.

"Any evidence that they've been successful?"

The table turns to look at him, and he does his best to appear casual when he shrugs.

"Just curious."

Mattheo shakes his head.

"We'll be alerted if they actually go back," He explains. "Which will lead to their arrest, if they continue to use the Hour Reversal charm."

"Doesn't that only go back five hours?" Blaise asks, receiving a nod from the curly haired man to his right. Theo can feel the impending panic rising in his chest, but he swallows it down.

In theory, it's only five hours.

But with a little tampering, it's longer.

Not that I would know.

No sir.

"Not unless they do something to strengthen the spell," Mattheo says casually. "Like some sort of potion. Or enchanting the sand in the Hourglass."

Theo's face goes slack, and it feels like his entire body grows hot.

There it is.

That epiphany.

His eyes fall back onto Mattheo, the room glowing in a new light as a chill slowly trails down through his extremities and his fingers and toes.

Instinctively, Theo tries to stand before he realises he's in the corner seat of the booth. The rest of the table looks at him in surprise.

"Nott?" Malfoy asks as Theo uses the table and the ledge behind the seat to launch himself over Mattheo and the booth, out into the aisle, only making their shock grow further.

"Fuck, sorry I forgot. I need to- I have-" He stammers, knowing full well nothing he says will be able to explain his sudden change in demeanour. The looks on their faces are the same sort of looks they'd have if he had stripped down in front of them and started screaming like a banshee. He closes his eyes, putting his hands out in front of him as he takes a second to calm down. When he speaks again, it's with less urgency. "I need to go."

And with that, Theo turns and sprints out of the Three Broomsticks.

Before the door swings shut behind him, he can make out Mattheo's distant voice shouting his name. But if any of the lads make any attempt to follow, Theo moves too fast for them to have any sort of success. Once out of the village, Theo apparates back home.

Where he stays for almost ninety six straight hours.

He doesn't sleep. He doesn't eat. He barely leaves his office to use the bathroom. And he definitely doesn't shower.

Theo's marathon is filled with work. The spell strengthening potion alone takes sixteen hours to brew, needing close management. And that was after all of the work he needed to put in in order to put the potion together. Meanwhile, he does an appalling amount of research, scouring text upon text about how one would enchant the sand. When he comes up with next to nothing after twelve hours worth of reading, he moves on to Plan B.

He starts to create his own spells.

It's not the first time Theo's dabbled in spell creation, but it is the first time it's something that's more serious than trying to make Malfoy's farts come out as actual bubbles. (A failed experiment, much to his thirteen year old self's detriment.) But this time is different. Hanging over the desk where he works is the picture of his motivation. And every time he starts to feel like he's failing, he looks up at the picture and a new resolve fills him.

Because he can't fail.

Failing isn't and never will be an option.

Every botched attempt leads to more research. Every new piece of information brings him that much closer.

Until, after almost ninety six hours of what he thought was going to lead to nothing, the moment is here.

He pulls the time turner out of the cauldron, and he can feel it. Despite having used the tongs to pull it out from the potion, Theo can feel the silver metals vibrating with magic, and that's how he knew.

It worked.

His hands tremble in the same manner as he reaches to touch it, almost hesitant from the anxiety that is running rampant in his head. But when his fingertips graze the warmth of the metal, nothing happens. Nothing changes. He looks around the room for a brief moment before looking back down at the makeshift Time Turner in his hands.

Spinning his chair around and leaning back, he examines the creation. His mind is quick to resume his doubts that it didn't work, despite the pure confidence he had just a moment before. Couldn't have worked. Because nothing he's done in the last few years has.

And yet.

There's only one way to find out.

Grabbing his phone from his pocket, he props it up on his knee before he turns the screen on.

And then, he gives the spindle in his hand a turn to the right.

Theo can feel his heart stop as he watches the minutes on his phone go down with every tick of the Time Turner.

It worked.

It actually fucking worked.

A tsunami of emotions runs through Theo, overwhelming him so strongly that he has to turn back around to lean on his desk. For a moment, he lays his head on the desk, in the cradle that is his arms, basking in the darkness as he takes three long, deep breaths.

And then he looks up to the picture on the wall.

To his motivation. To the one he's been working for.

To the picture of you.

"Did you see that, pretty girl?" He asks in a gentle voice.

The spell hits your chest.

And the life leaves your eyes.

His voice is a little choked as he raises the Time Turner to the picture on the wall, wishing once again it was actually you and not just a moving idea behind a piece of paper.

"I'm coming for you."

#theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #harry potter #slytherin boys #slytherin boys fanfiction #golden trio era #golden trio era fanfiction

122 notes · View notes

x-liv25-jamieswife · 3 days

Note

Hey i read ur gray dying hcs. Can you make some for jamie too?? Thanks!!

(and maybe avery could be after)

people's reaction to jameson's death head canons

avery: she would be absolutely destroyed. she would not get out of bed and seriously consider offing herself (its up to you if she actually does off herself). it would get so bad alisa and the others would have to intervene and get her professional help. she would only get out of bed to visit his grave. i also hc that he'd have a pre-written letter for her if he ever died that he gave to alisa (he told her to give it to avery when he died). she would reread that letter over and over again until her eyes became blurred with tears. she'd also get really mad at the world for ripping all of the people she loves away from her. she'd stop working, eating, drinking, showering, etc. basically, she'd be so wrecked she wouldn't be able to handle anything.

grayson: he'd try to keep everyone together but would fail miserably bc he's also falling apart at the seams. he'd work to try to distract himself but nothing ever took jamie's death off of his mind. he'd visit his grave everyday regretting everything that happened with emily bc of what it did to his relationship with jamie. i think he'd also find a way to blame himself. he'd apologize to jamie every single time he visited his grave for not being the best brother. he'd end up hiring someone to do his work for him bc he just wouldn't be able to do it. yk what emily's death did to him but this would be 1391938 times worse. he'd be crying 24/7 and he'd also wonder if life was worth living (like avery). he would think he deserved to die instead of jamie.

xander: basically the same thing i put in my 'how would people react if grayson died post'. he'd crack is usual jokes in hopes of getting people to laugh and loosen up all while dying on the inside. he'd occasionally slip up and forget jamie was still alive. he'd be working on smth and would think 'huh let me ask jamie what he thinks about this' just to then realize jamie's gone. he'd also visit his grave to leave little gadgets and notes there/talk to him. i think the grief would hit him so hard he wouldn't be able to work on his inventions and experiments anymore. he'd just sit in his lab, dissociating, thinking about jamie and how shitty his life is now that he's gone. he'd check up on everyone, especially avery cause, like i said, she's not getting out of bed.

nash: pretty much the same thing i said in my grayson post. would also try to keep the family going but would also fail miserably. he wouldn't let anyone see him fall apart except for libby. he'd, in a way, think he failed at keeping his brother safe, and, that he didn't do the one thing he was supposed to do as jamie's older brother. he'd become extra protective of his two remaining siblings and avery. he visits jamie's grave balling his eyes trying to think of a way he could've saved jamie. unlike avery, he'd have to get out of bed. staying in bed makes him feel even worse so he gets up and either checks on the others or works. i can also imagine him feeling so depressed he's just numb to everything except anything that concerns jamie or his family. he wouldn't care about the things he cared about before and would just lose it.

libby: the one who's actually keeping everyone together. she's making sure everyone is fed, bathed, etc and makes sure everyone has someone to talk to or cry to. meanwhile, she'd be grieving too. even though she's not as close to jamie, his death would still hit her hard. her baking would get completely out of hand. sm that people had to make an intervention bc they couldn't eat all of the cupcakes. she'd bring the cupcakes to jamie's grave (like i said in my grayson post). she'd start crying at any time of the day when she sees smth that reminds her of him (this is basically the exact same thing i wrote in my grayson post but i wanted to include her cause she's the best. i just think she'd react the same to all of the brother's deaths (except nash))

not proof read so sorry if there are grammar mistakes or smth doesn't make sense.

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #avery grambs #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #libby grambs

29 notes · View notes

camels-pen · 4 months

Text

(i haven't read Whole Cake in a while, and i never really watched it, so bear with me)

I'd love to write a fic with Usopp on Whole Cake. it'd be sooo fucking long and i'd need to refresh myself on the entire arc, but god i'd probably be so satisfied when it's done. specifically for having brought a single moment in my head to life, but we'll get to that.

On Zou, he insists to be taken along on the Sanji rescue team and has worked himself up with a whole bunch of very good reasons as to why he should go there instead of helping in Wano, but of course Luffy just immediately accepts with a "yeah sure"

With Whole Cake, I think he'd be flipping between having fun as part of the idiot trio/quartet (Luffy, Chopper, Carrot), and being terrified with Nami. There wouldn't be that many differences in the arc as a whole, though; some things would be easier/better and some things would be worse- I don't necessarily think Usopp's presence would be overall an advantage or disadvantage, just different. Like, major events would stay mostly the same, but little details would change and maybe those little details would build to a far more drastic change-

for example, maybe one of Big Mom's kids considers themself a great sniper and wants a match with Usopp, or is motivated to work harder because Usopp is around and they want to take him out and boast about it. Maybe it means Sunny takes more damage than canon, or maybe Usopp's help means less damage to Sunny. (idk if i'd really do smth like this, but it's just an example)

skjdhf fuck i'm really not equipped to try and figure this out when i don't remember shit from Whole Cake aaaa

I do know that, despite his penchant for talking and rambling, I'd probably have Usopp be dead silent after his initial shock when Sanji fights Luffy. Everything about that is the same, except Usopp is just watching Sanji the whole time- not panicking, not moving, and not speaking. He doesn't say a word the entire time, doesn't even make a sound, and that, along with Luffy's words and Nami's begging, stick with Sanji.

(Usopp is thinking of his own fight with Luffy in Water 7, he's partially wondering if this was what it was like- if it was this painful to watch from the sidelines- and partially knowing he doesn't have to say a word, because he knew, like he knew back then, that it didn't matter what was said. It wasn't quite the same, but he could tell in the way Sanji moved, in the way he spoke and held himself, that he was putting on a front, trying to be brave in all the wrong ways. Usopp didn't say a word to Sanji because there was nothing he could say that Sanji himself didn't already know. Should've known. And his quiet, direct stare, was more than enough.)

the singular moment i really wanna write, is a scene where Sanji is apologizing for dragging them into his mess- either during the big meeting in Bege's castle or some other time- and Usopp's like "I'll do what you can't, you do what I can't, right?" and Sanji pauses, a little confused, until he remembers Enies Lobby and a stupid mask and cape and-

and tears are gathering in his eyes now, fuck, but he laughs a little. It sounds wet and his face is itchy and they're surrounded by tentative allies, but he- he laughs again and he says, "Fuck, you remembered that?"

Usopp shrugs, a little smile on his face. "They were some wise words from a wise man."

Sanji laughs a third time. "You think I'm wise?"

And they banter a little more before Bege tells them to quit it since they're on a time constraint or something. Quietly, Usopp will ask, "It-it helps. On bad days. And I figured, 'what's a worse day than this?' Ah, not that you getting married would ever be bad per se-"

"Usopp," Sanji says, looking more relaxed and settled. He smiles fondly and grabs his friend in a one armed hug, crushing him to his side. "Thanks."

And yeah, don't remember much beyond that, except the whole "hiding and then busting out of the cake" bit, which would mean Usopp in a cute little tuxedo or smth- maybe with a fedora aaaaaa <- loves fedoras- helping out with the fighting and eventually sailing with everyone to Wano.

He would be so distressed about fixing up Sunny now that the whole thing with Whole Cake is over. Maybe there'd be a gag about him promising Franky to take good care of Sunny while they were gone and being confident, after being Franky's tinkering partner and learning from him over time, that he could handle minor repair work much better than he did the first time around with Merry. And so when he finally takes in all the very-not-minor repairs he has to do, he's certain Franky is gonna strangle him for not keeping his promise. Probably also try to write in some nostalgic 'repairman Usopp' vibes from pre-Water 7.

Also something something, Sanji, wanting to do more for the crew bc he still feels guilty about Whole Cake, decides to take it upon himself to help Usopp not fall into a whole anxiety spiral about the ship. In turn, Usopp ends up helping Sanji not feel so guilty- usually by handing his own words back to him on a silver platter. And, yknow, having the two of them bonding and being buddies again like they so rarely get to be in canon nowadays qwq

#one piece #usopp #whole cake island #nemotime #that bit in bege's castle isn't exactly how it would go. just kinda. trying to get the vibe. also it's wayyy too short lol #the sanuso bit can be platonic or romantic. originally when i was gonna write out this idea a while ago i was thinking romantic with my #'they get engaged/married b4 dressrosa' au but tbh platonic works just as good #im- these guys man. i hate them so much (affectionate)#i'll get to rereading whole cake and finding a way to put him in there but for now. this.#if anyone's got other ideas im all ears #edit from like march 7: thinking about this again #maybe usopp being silent is an indicator for sanji that usopp's really fucking disappointed or shocked or w/e #but for usopp himself it's like being back in water 7. he doesn't even mean to be silent. he's got words built up on the tip of his tongue #but none of them come out. and despite sanji being Right There all he wants to do in that moment. is run.#at the very least he stays and watches the whole confrontation through. but afterwards he probably feels like shit #because he's the guy who's great with words right? he's the guy that can relate the most out of the group who went to WCI. he should be abl #to make a significant difference and help convince sanji to come home. but he feels like he failed. like he's going to lose another friend #and it's going to be all his fault. (again)#[not really. we all know merry wasn't his fault but we love old insecurities rearing their head in this house]#later he'd probably end up saying the words he wanted to say. and maybe it's better that way. that he ended up waiting #until luffy's had a proper shot at scolding sanji first. because then usopp can act as support and reinforcement. which. yknow.#a sniper's duty and all #anyway i got other shit to do so i'm cutting myself off here #wci usopp

13 notes · View notes

whysamwhy123 · 6 months

Text

So, I started writing a dumb crackfic about a bunch of my blorbos attempting to hit on my newest blorbo because it was funny in my head buuuuut turns out I'm not funny enough to bring it to life so I probably ain't gonna finish it. But I don't wanna feel like I completely wasted my time, so I'm just gonna drop the unfinished thing here because I can't seem to make myself continue it. It's a shame because I feel like it would have gotten a little better/funnier after I got the set-up out of the way, I had plans for where this would go, but alas, my brain has failed me yet again. And whatever, this most likely appeals to absolutely no one anyway, so here it is, read at your own risk because it sucks!

Jack was minding his own business before the show, wandering the halls while dicking around his phone, when he spotted Hook, just standing there.

‘’Hey man, what’s up?’’ he said, leaning against the nearest wall, still looking at his phone.

When no response came, Jack looked up. Hook was still as a statue, his eyes focused forward. Did he not hear him?

‘’Hello? Hook?’’

Jack got closer and slowly turned his head in the direction Hook was staring. ‘’What are you looki - whoa!’’

Jack almost dropped his phone when he first caught a glimpse of her. No wonder Hook was staring - she had to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever soon. She was fucking gorgeous. The kind of woman that’s so beautiful it feels like she shouldn’t be allowed to exist. Or that you shouldn’t be allowed to look at her, how dare you think yourself worthy! But she was real and she was right there all the way over on the other side of the hallway. She seemed to be checking how she looked in her phone’s camera, adjusting her long blonde hair and examining her makeup as though it wasn’t already perfect. She was perfect. She was wearing this all red ensemble that showed off just how killer her body was. And she was tall too. Long legs.

Jack’s mouth was agape. He knew it wasn’t polite to stare but how could he not?

‘’Jack, buddy,’’ Hook said, not taking his eyes off the beauty across the hall. ‘’I’ve found my next conquest.’’

Jack couldn’t take his eyes off her either. Who could blame them? ‘’Who is that?’’

Hook somehow managed to tear his eyes away from the vision they’ve been blessed to look upon and turned his head to Jack instead. ‘’My next conquest. Weren’t you listening?’’

Jack forced himself to look away - any longer and he was about to start drooling. ‘’No, who is she? What’s her name? I’ve gotta know.’’

‘’You seriously don’t know who she is?’’

The two men whirled around to find Daniel Garcia right next to them.

‘’How long have you been there?’’ Hook asked.

Daniel waved him off, a whatever gesture and then nodded his head in the direction of the unbelievably gorgeous woman. ‘’That’s Mariah May!’’

Hook and Jack blinked at him.

‘’From Stardom?’’

More blinking.

‘’Club Venus? Rose Gold?’’

‘’You’re just saying words at us, man,’’ Hook said.

Daniel gave them a judgemental look. ‘’You guys don’t watch Stardom? For real? Do you not watch any joshi wrestling at all?’’

Jack scratched the back of his neck. Hook gave a half-hearted shrug.

Daniel shook his head. ‘’What’s wrong with you guys? Y’all got no taste. Where else do you find spots to steal?’’

‘’My dad,’’ Hook said.

At the same time, Jack said, ‘’Shawn Michaels, I guess?’’

Daniel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘’I’m surrounded by uncultured swines. Look, she was one of the hottest - literally - free agents in the business. She just signed here, she’s debuting tonight.’’

‘’She’s a wrestler?’’ Hook said. ‘’Damn. Would have been easier if she was a rat.’’

‘’She could be,’’ Daniel said. ‘’You can be a wrestler and a rat at the same time.’’

Hook narrowed his eyes at Daniel. ‘’You would know.’’

Daniel smiled back, completely oblivious. ‘’Yeah, I mean, look at Adam Cole. Or Edge. Or CM Pu -’’ He stopped himself and his eyes went wide in Jack’s direction. A very uncomfortable silence fell over the three of them, one that seemed to last precisely one million years. ‘’...other examples…’’

‘’Alright, enough standing around,’’ Hook said finally. He took his hands out of his hoodie pocket and cracked his knuckles. ‘’I’m going in.’’

Two hands, one from Daniel and one from Jack, shot out and grabbed his hoodie, preventing him from taking a step.

‘’No way,’’ Daniel said.

‘’Nuh uh,’’ Jack added.

Hook glared at the two. ‘’I saw her first.’’

Daniel was aghast. ‘’No, I saw her first! You didn’t know who she was until fifteen seconds ago!’’

‘’That doesn’t count,’’ Hook argued. ‘’I saw her first in the building, so I get first dibs.’’

‘’That’s not fair!’’ Jack whined.

Daniel said, ‘’You don’t understand, man - I’ve been crazy about this girl ever since I first saw her on Stardom World. I’ve been waiting for this moment for months - that could be the love of my life right there!’’

‘’Yeah, well, I wanna fuck her,’’ Hook said, as though that was the most airtight, well-reasoned counterpoint imaginable. ‘’You can fanboy over her all you want after I’m done with her.’’

‘’Hell no! I don’t want your sloppy seconds!’’

‘’If ‘the love of your life’ is sloppy seconds, what does that say about you, huh?’’

Hook and Daniel had been gradually inching closer to each other with each response. They both looked mad, like they were one second away from throwing punches. Jack couldn’t let that happen. Not after last time…

He put a hand on each man’s shoulder and created some distance between them. ‘’Guys, guys, calm down! We don’t need to fight.’’

Clearer heads seemed to prevail, Hook and Daniel shared a nod and then their body language changed, less guarded.

‘’Besides, you’re both wrong,’’ Jack continued. ‘’I should get to approach her first.’’

Hook and Daniel, now suddenly allies, raised an eyebrow each at Jack. ‘’Why?’’ they both asked at the same time.

‘’Because…’’ Jack started. His mind drew a blank. ‘’...I…want to…’’

Now it was Jack’s turn to be blinked at. He wracked his brain - he couldn’t let this opportunity slip away, not when the girl in question was that hot.

‘’Okay, here’s why it should be me! Or, I guess, here’s why it shouldn’t be either of you!’’ He pointed at Daniel. ‘’You hit on girls all the time, while I don’t. So much. So it’s only fair that I got a shot first because, you know, it’s a special occasion.’’ Daniel looked incredulous and opened his mouth to respond but Jack cut him off by pointing at Hook and continuing. ‘’And you! Aren’t you already seeing someone?’’

‘’Uh, no? The fuck you talking about?’’ Hook asked, looking very annoyed at the mere suggestion.

‘’What about that girl you hook up with all the time? The one who’s always texting you? Carly something?’’

Hook rolled his eyes. ‘’Alright, look - technically, I never told Carly we were exclusive. I just…told her a bunch of other stuff and she kinda assumed and I didn’t correct her because I didn’t wanna seem like an asshole. But just because she lets me hit on the regular doesn’t mean I owe her anything - she should understand that. So how is it my fault if she gets mad about something like this?’’

Jack furrowed his brow at his best friend. ‘’You…you don’t seriously think that, right? That’s gross!’’

‘’Nah, that makes perfect sense,’’ Daniel said. ‘’Flawless logic. She’s the one in the wrong, not you.’’

He and Hook shared a quick fistbump. Fuckboy solidarity.

Jack sighed deeply. ‘’See? This is why I should get to shoot my shot first - I won’t treat like her dirt like you two assholes!’’

Daniel looked offended. ‘’I’ll have you know, I’ll treat her like a queen!’’

Hook nodded. ‘’Yeah, same. Unless she doesn’t want me to, you know?’’

Fistbumps all around.

‘’There’s gotta be a way we can decide, fairly, who gets to go first,’’ Jack said. ‘’Some way we can settle this like mature adults. Like men.’’

The three men took a long moment to ponder their predicament and search for an appropriate solution.

Hook glanced down at his fist. ‘’Rock, paper, scissors?’’

‘’Yes,’’ Jack said, emphatically.

Daniel rubbed his hands together. ‘’Alright, how we doing this? Elimination style or triple threat rules?’’

Jack decided to defer to Hook; it was his idea after all.

Hook considered it for a moment. ‘’The usual 3-way match rules. First to score a fall wins.’’

The three of them formed a triangle and each of them placed a fist onto their other palm, ready and waiting. After silently confirming they were all ready through a series of shared nods, Jack took it upon himself to count them down.

‘’Okay, here we go! Rock, paper, scissors, sh -’’

Before he could finish, Jack was shoved back by Daniel, his back colliding with the wall. Daniel then grabbed Hook’s hand, still balled into a fist, and promptly covered it with his own palm, preventing Hook from changing his option and signalling paper-beats-rock.

‘’I win!’’ he announced proudly.

Hook ripped his hand away. ‘’Like hell you do!’’

‘’The fuck was that?!’’ Jack demanded, rubbing his back where it was now sore. ‘’That wasn’t a win, you cheated!’’

Daniel smiled smugly. ‘’No, I didn’t. We said triple threat rules - that means it’s No DQ.’’

A lengthy discussion ensued about what exactly constitutes a disqualification in a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors, hollowed by a side tangent about why there aren't disqualifications in a triple threat match. Upon realising that they weren’t going anywhere and were just wasting time, they all agreed to play by elimination rules. Hook was the first fall, picking paper while Jack and Daniel went with scissors. And in the finals, Jack’s paper bested Daniel’s rock. How poetic.

‘’Yes!’’ Jack exclaimed triumphantly. He took a great deal of satisfaction in Hook and Daniel’s sour, dejected expressions.

Jack glanced back over to confirm that Mariah was a) still there and b) hadn’t overheard any of that, which turned out to be true on both counts. She was in the exact same spot as before, still admiring herself in her phone’s camera. Jack could relate.

Jack took a few deep breaths to psyche himself up. ‘’Okay, Jack, you got this. You got this! I know exactly what’ll work here!’’

Hook groaned. ‘’You’re not seriously gonna try that again, are you?’’

‘’I told you, it totally works!’’ Jack said, defiant. ‘’Sometimes.’’

‘’What’s he talking about?’’ Daniel asked.

Hook sighed. ‘’He has this thing he does to try and pick up girls. It’s stupid - he just stands around looking sad and supposedly, a girl will eventually come up to him and ask him what’s wrong.’’

‘’It. Works. Sometimes,’’ Jack insisted.

Daniel considered that. ‘’Huh. Yeah, I can see it. One time, there was this girl who told me I had ‘sad eyes’ and it was half the reason she fucked me. So you might be onto something.’’

With his confidence boosted, Jack took another breath to calm his nerves and headed down the hallway to his target. He willed himself to stay calm, but he grew more nervous with each footstep. The closer he got, the better he could see her. She was even more stunning up close.

When he was near enough, he put on his game face. Which was to say, he put on his best sad puppy dog eyes and leaned against the wall, dejected.

His head was bowed, but he could see Mariah out of the corner of his eye. Unfortunately, she was still distracted by her own reflection. Jack didn’t blame her, but he really needed her to look his way.

He let out a loud sigh. Nothing. So he sighed louder. Still nothing. The third sigh was so loud and exaggerated, it was almost comical. But it was the one that got the job done. Mariah finally looked up from her phone and found him there. There was a flash of concern on her face and Jack knew his diabolical plan was working.

‘’Excuse me, are you alright? You look really sad!’’

Whoa, she has an English accent? Jack wasn’t expecting that. It took him a couple of seconds to process and actually respond.

‘’Oh, it’s nothing, really. Just one thing after another today, you know?’’

Jack knows this is the part where she asks more questions about why he’s so sad and tries to cheer him up.

Mariah just hummed. ‘’Okay,’’ she said, and then turned her attention back to her phone.

Uh oh. It’s not going according to plan! Jack’s brain scrambled for what to do next. He pushed himself away from the wall and closer to her.

‘’Uh, hey, wait! Uh, I’m Jack!’’ he said, offering his hand out.

She eyed his hand curiously and then reluctantly shook it. Goddammit, why did he try to shake her hand? That’s not romantic, that’s…business-y?

‘’Nice to meet you, I guess,’’ she said. ‘’I’m Mariah May.’’

‘’Yeah, I know who you are,’’ Jack said. He wracked his brain for what it was Daniel said about her back there. ‘’I saw you wrestle in, uh…Venus World?’’

#What is wrong with you Sam you should not be allowed to write #What can I say? I have a weird desire to write about my blorbos being idiot fuckboys *shrugs*#Uh oh Sam's gotten so bad at this writing shit that they're posting unfinished fic on tumblr #In a desperate attempt to not feel like a complete and utter failure #It's frustrating when a fun idea doesn't turn out to be as fun when you have to actually write it yourself #This happens to me a lot unfortunately #If you actually read this and wondered where it was going -#DG would try next and attempt to impress her with his in-depth knowledge of her Stardom career #But he'd end up failing by making it all about himself and then doing his dance at her which would just creep her out #Then Hook would try by just asking her ''How's your day?'' and then standing there listening to her for a while #And then he'd say ''I really like listening to you.''#And he's like right this is the part where she pounces on me and begs me to fuck her #But it don't happen and Mariah tells him he's not her type #Which prompts Hook to have an existential breakdown due to being rejected by a girl for the first time in his life #And then Toni comes along to see what the fuss is all about and she's like ''Children please let me show you how it's done!''#And then she effortlessly rizzes Mariah in a matter of seconds and the three fuckboys watch on like ''Aw man!''#''Why are the hottest girls always gay?!''#Yeah...it seemed a lot funnier in my head but now I'm reading it back....ouch 😬#I'm thinking it's a good thing I abandoned ship here LOL

3 notes · View notes

alastorss · 2 months

Note

Hi! I hope you're having a good day! I've been thinking, how would Alastor react to the reader casually saying stuff like "I like your laugh, it's nice," and "You voice is really soothing," out of the blue.

a/n: oh i loooooved writing this ^ ^ he would 100% be the type to try and hide that he actually likes the compliments but fail miserably. thank you and i hope you like this!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

You'd like to say you know everything about Alastor, but that's far from the truth.

You know his mother's jambalaya recipe, sure, and that he takes his coffee black. You've memorized the intro of his morning broadcast, and learned the feeling of his chin propped on your shoulder.

There are pieces of Alastor you know like the back of your hand, but somehow you've never even scratched the surface of deciphering him. He was just like that, you suppose—an enigma wrapped in another mystery that would take a lifetime to unravel.

The only thing he liked more than his secrets was keeping them, after all.

And he especially enjoyed toying with you—dangling little tidbits of trivia about him in front of your face and snatching it away when you inevitably took the bait. He'd laugh about it, too, saying you were so adorable for trying.

For some time you had hypothesized that his ears were a good way of gauging his real thoughts about matters, but he was irritatingly good at controlling those as well. Not even the slightest twitch to give away his inner monologue.

"You are so annoying, you know that?" You once told him while brushing your teeth, words coming out muffled from your toothbrush. Minty foam gathered at your mouth while you glared at him through the reflection in the mirror.

He only laughed, as he always did, and propped his chin on your shoulder.

"How rude!" He chastised you playfully.

You leaned down to rinse your mouth. "I'm just saying," you muttered after standing tall again, "I wish I knew what was going through that head of yours sometimes."

Unsurprisingly, Alastor's expression was unreadable.

He opted to bite your cheek and walk away from the conversation after that, not bothering to enlighten you even slightly.

You watched him from across the bathroom, eyeing the way his shadow danced around him with a mind of its own before it disappeared into the darkness.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

His downfall began with a comment you made after you ended up falling asleep with your head on his shoulder.

He had been reading the latest article about the Vees to you out loud, practically singing his amusement with how terrible this column had painted out Vox to be. With fame came criticism, of course, and Alastor would happily sit there and criticize Vox all day if he could.

Your head hit his shoulder quick and he sighed, ears perking at the familiar sound of your slowing breaths. (He didn't bother waking you. It's not like he had much else to do at the time.)

"Your voice is so soothing," you shrugged when you finally awoke. "The static is like... comforting white noise for me, or something."

'Or something?' he wanted to ask.

He didn't, because he didn't really care for an explanation further than that. (He definitely didn't avoid prying because he felt something warm in his chest knowing you thought that way about him.)

It kept happening after that, as much as he wishes it didn't.

Little comments you slid into conversation so casually—tiny compliments and teases that drove him up the wall. They were softening him up, flattering him in dangerous ways.

The demon felt his sanity wearing thin with each passing day, making tremendous efforts to hide the way your slips made him warm.

He's sure he is about to crack. At any moment, his ears will flick or his cheeks will cherub with genuine joy because you can't keep your words to yourself. But he's done well for himself thus far, pat on the back, for not gratifying you.

He mentally groans when you join him at the bar, eyeing his drink. "It's the middle of the day," you point out.

"And you've come to scold me?" He tuts.

"I've come to join you, actually."

Alastor chuckles, voice missing it's usual static filter. He reaches over to pour you a glass when you smile at him.

"You have a nice laugh."

He nearly shatters the glass in his hands.

You snicker quietly, leaning over the bar to creep under his face which is scrunched up in concentration.

"What's wrong? I like your laugh, you should do it more!"

Taking a deep breath, the Radio Demon reaches over to pinch your nose. You yelp and jerk away from him, glaring.

"Flattery will get you nowhere~" he sings.

Your head tilts to the side in confusion. There's a smugness to your gaze that makes him feel like a trapped animal, and he realizes that you've known all along what you've done to him.

"Oh, but I think it does," you laugh, nodding to his shadow burned into the floor.

Its smile is uncharacteristically soft, missing all semblance of its usual fangs and sharp edges. Howling in embarrassment, the shadow dives away, abandoning its owner to confront you alone.

All this time, his shadow had been the one betraying him. Through all the times he had forced his ears to stay rigid, with all the effort to maintain his mask of indifference, you'd seen where he had overlooked.

His jaw clenches so hard he can feel his teeth grinding into each other. "You are perceptive, my dear."

"No," you giggle. "You're just bad at hiding how you feel. I think it's cute."

Alastor glowers at you, but his ears flop back and forth atop his head at your praise anyway.

taglist (i totally forgot i'm sorry!!): @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc @th3-st4r-gur1 (send and ask to be added!)

#🍓 faye's thoughts <3 #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin x reader #alastor fanfic #alastor fanfiction #alastor fic #alastor headcanons #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x you #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfic

4K notes · View notes

selineram3421 · 3 months

Text

Lovesick Alastor Headcanon

Alastor X Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ deer man is possessive/obsessive over you, hides it somewhat, very yandere coded but doesn't force you to do anything you don't like, suggestive/implied, hint at cannibalism, blood, ☺🔪 ⚠

This goes for almost all versions of the Reader. Child reader/platonic relationships excluded.

He's had his eye on you for a while now. Of course you didn't know since he always kept his composure.

You were a jewel among rocks to him.

Will do anything to make you fall in love with him. Not make but persuade.

Uses Vox as a dummy whenever he can to make himself look good.

Waits for you to approach him.

And when you do he's the happiest demon in Hell.

He likes when you wear red. Especially if you are covered in blood.

Its not yours, no. He'd never let that happen.

Literally crazy about you.

He doesn't do PDA but behind closed doors is a different story.

Alastor is a gentleman! He won't do anything unless you ask him to. Kisses, cuddles, hand holding, biting-

*cough*

Depending on what you like of course.

Only spills your blood with your permission. Fully consensual.

Likes holding you close or having you nearby. It calms him down when he's upset or too peppy.

When you are at the hotel, he likes whisking you away to his office for kisses.

Buys you jewelry, food, clothes. A lot of gifts that are in his colors. Maybe one thing you'll wear everyday with a microphone on it.

Everyone knows to STAY AWAY.

Of course Vox is an idiot and tries to woo you but fails miserably.

"You know how much I adore you my dearest.", Alastor caresses your face. "Jusqu'à la fin des temps ou jusqu'à ce qu'il n'y ait plus que nous." (Until the end of time, or until it's just us.)

Makes sure you're content and well taken care of.

Of course there are times when he does too much and you get upset.

"Alastor, please let me do this for myself.", you'll say with a pout.

"Forgive me my darling.", he kisses the top of your head. "You know I like taking care of you, but as you wish."

He shows off his demon form because he knows you like it.

Teases you about it later in your shared hotel room, until you're hiding your blushing face.

"I thought you liked my radio dial eyes?", he leans closer, purposefully turning them into radio dials. "￦as ¡ wr¤Ω&?", he asks, static more noticeable in his voice.

"D-don't!", you'll stutter and shiver, peeking through your fingers.

His smile widens and he'll continue transforming. "What's the matter my love?", he chuckles as he looms over you. "Trouble holding back?"

Falls in love all over again when you get pissed at someone.

Watches as you tear up said demon and cheers for you. "Save me a piece or two darling!"

Man worships and adores you.

No one will ever see you make the Radio Demon blush, but you don't mind. That's only for you to see.

He's yours after all.

Thank you to @the-friend-lol for making me the gif.

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @+?

ML for Alastor🎙

#alastor #x reader #gn reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #alastor x reader #headcanons #hint at yandere reader #wink wink

3K notes · View notes

sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast · 6 months

Text

No Nut November; How long are they lasting?

Self explanatory. How long are these horny ass men lasting in No Nut November (sure as hell longer than me, heh)

Content: Sexual themes. MDNI. Fem!reader. Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso, Toji. Not proofread.

Gojo

A Day. I'm giving this man at least a day, mostly because he'd be so stubborn about it. He wants so badly to prove to you that he can do it. Could even beat you in the challenge. You didn't even really make it a challenge, you simply mentioned it and he took off with it. But you had to admit, it was pretty funny to watch him try. Gojo is touchy by nature so he's always grabbing your waist, your ass, your tits. Everything. So ultimately, he ends up teasing himself so much that he fails the next morning. Which means, you fail too.

Getou

A week or two. He has more self restraint than our white haired man above. And unlike Gojo, he wasn't necessarily too interested in it until you mentioned it. And how you really wanted to try it, just to see what happens. He humored you and didn't touch you (sexually) for a whole week (or more.) In the end, you were the one who couldn't stand it. Which is how he found you, naked on your shared bed, knuckle deep in your pussy moaning for him to just fuck you. He lost then.

Nanami

Three days. Don't ask me why it's so specific, it just feels like he could last for a little. Again, he'd humor you when you talked about the challenge. But you didn't make it easy. Wearing those skirts you knew he liked, resting your hand on his inner thigh when you'd cuddle. Accidentally bumping your ass against his crotch when you moved passed to get food from the fridge. Three days of this and he lost his patience, bending you directly over that counter you so shamelessly pressed yourself against.

Chosou

Hour. Oh honey, I don't see him lasting more than an hour. In fact, he even asked you about it. Having heard some others talk and he wanted to try it. You already had an inkling that he wouldn't last long, especially since he brought this up while you were getting ready to go for bed. Dressed in your cute little night clothes as you slipped into bed, your ass pressed against his front as you made him wrap his arms around you. He laid there for all of 45 minutes, dick already straining against his pants before he softly whimpered by your ear. Begging you to let him touch you, to make him cum. Of course you agreed, you never really agreed much about the challenge anyway.

Toji

Whole Time/None. I feel like he could go either way. Either lasting the entirety of the month or simply pulling you to bed, fucking you as soon as you asked about the challenge. Toji really isn't one to ignore his desires, unless, he gets to watch you squirm from it. If the mere thought of his big dick, hard in his pants, leaking but he makes no moves to touch it gets you all horny and excited? He'd last all month. But best believe when the months over, he's pumping all your holes full of his cum. And if he decides to say "fuck the game/challenge," he'll just fuck you right then and there.

A/N: What a naughty post for a challenge such as this. I lost already anyways♡

4K notes · View notes

xiaowhore · 4 months

Text

intoxicating.

premise. your boyfriend dumps you and says he doesn't love you anymore. of course, being the petty bitch that you are, you have to prove that you don't need him in your life either. and of course, intense emotions often lead to rash decisions, so you go to a bar in hopes of finding a new man.

somehow, even when all you've managed to do is scowl at anyone who approaches you and mope at the bar counter, you still manage to get one.

Wriothesley has dealt with his fair share of unruly drunks before, but they were something more along the lines of aggressive and sloppy, not depressed and sappy.

He finds that he'd rather manhandle angry alcoholics than a person who makes a slobbering mess all over his shirt, clinging to his arm and sobbing to his sleeve. Your body starts to sway even when he supports your weight, your footsteps unstable as your attempt to walk in a straight line fails entirely.

Okay, so maybe you are sloppy after all.

Wriothesley sighs and tightens his grip on your shoulders. There's no point in losing his patience with a drunk person. He didn't even mean to pick you up, it's just that as a police officer, his sense of responsibility makes him want to fix a troublesome situation whenever he sees one. Even when he isn't on duty, he often leads disruptive drunks out of bars and restaurants, forces them out when he has to, and is always on the receiving end of owners' gratitude.

However, he has no experience dealing with drunks that just got dumped by their boyfriend and chugged away the sorrow with alcohol. You know, like the one dragging their feet as he drags their inebriated body away.

At first, he thought you were hitting on him when he felt your head lean on his shoulder in the bar. It's a common strategy, one that he's dealt with enough times to know when someone is just pretending to be drunk and trying to get his attention. He was still thinking of what to say when tears actually rolled down your cheeks and you started retelling your life story that he never asked to hear about.

Wriothesley isn't actually trying to listen, but he still gets the gist of it. It would be hard not to when you're still prattling on about it beside his ear as we speak.

“He said...” You hiccup, warm liquid seeping into his shirt as you sob into his arm. He hopes that's from your tears and not your snot. “He said he doesn't feel anything for me anymore...”

So you glammed up for tonight and tried to have fun at a bar so you could prove to yourself you didn't need him in the same way he didn't need you. He can already recite the story perfectly from the amount of times you told him. Your plan is irrational at best, and he doesn't see himself doing the same if he were ever to be in the same situation, but he can't berate you for it. Not when you looked so miserable and hopeless to the extent he didn't think it would be safe to leave you alone back at the bar.

“You can't force yourself to be happy,” Wriothesley grumbles, finally giving up on carrying you by the shoulder and instead hoists you up on his back to give you a piggyback ride. Your shoes slip off your feet, so he sighs as he crouches down to pick them up. “At times like this, you should find other ways to feel better.”

Your body jolts against him as you hiccup once again. “Like what?”

“Dunno.” He shrugs, and he can feel you gradually getting used to being carried. It takes only a bit more for you to melt against his body, your chin snugly tucked in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. “Watch movies at home in your pajamas, I guess. Treat yourself to good food. Go on a trip. You look like the type to enjoy that. Much safer than getting involved with guys when you're still emotionally unavailable.”

You sniffle. “Romance movies only remind me of him. Eating at restaurants will make me remember the dates we've gone to. And going on trips will make me wish he's there with me.”

Why do they have an argument for each point I make? And I never said anything about the movie having to be romance. “Well, you still have to go through that,” he gives up on making you think otherwise. “But one day, you'll feel a little better about it. Maybe you'll want to start dating again when you watch that romance movie, or you'll want someone else to eat with on that restaurant you once went to. And when you're on a trip, maybe you'll even think you want somebody special to go with you.”

You go quiet. For a moment, he thinks you've fallen asleep. But then your head slowly rises from his shoulder, dazed eyes peeking at him unsurely. “You really think so?”

“It won't be easy,” Wriothesley says, because nothing ever is. “But you want to say you don't love him anymore, right?” He glances at you, at the dry tear streaks on your cheeks, at what glitter remains around your eyes from all the times you've rubbed away your tears.

For the first time that night, he sees you smile. “Yeah... I want to say it without feeling hurt anymore.”

He turns away, and he feels himself smiling without meaning to. “That's good.”

“...So do you like watching romance movies? Or eating [hometown] cuisine?”

“...No?”

“Then I'll settle for a movie you like. And I can make good food from anywhere.”

“...Are you hitting on me? Using my advice?”

“Is it working?”

Wriothesley laughs, looking at the person he's carrying on his back, who he is escorting to his apartment because you lost your keys and your roommate won't be back until tomorrow, whom he wrapped his leather jacket around because he felt you shivering against him, and who caught his eye the very moment he entered the bar.

“That's not a no.” He knows you're pouting even when he isn't looking anymore.

“Yeah,” he agrees with you, almost indulgently. “It isn't.”

When you wake up in an unfamiliar bedroom, dressed down to your undergarments and a t-shirt you definitely do not own, and with hardly any recollection of events from the past night, you think you've made a terrible, terrible mistake.

But then you spot the hangover medicine on the bedside table, your alcohol-spilled clothes drying in the laundry room, and possibly the most gorgeous man you've ever seen cooking breakfast in the kitchen, so whatever you did last night couldn't really be that bad.

“Oh, you're awake,” he says once he notices you standing in the middle of the room, completely awestruck. You don't even know what you should be staring at; his chiseled face, his strong arms, his tight tank top that faintly traces his muscled torso, the gray sweatpants that-

Okay. You are not going to look anywhere below his waist.

“Yeah,” is all you can manage, simply glad you didn't fuck up that one syllable. You feel like you're on the verge of either saying something really stupid or making really weird strangled noises. You prefer the former, if you can help it.

“Sit.” He pulls one chair from the dining table, gesturing for you to take it. You meekly take your seat, eyes shifting everywhere but his face. “You're rather quiet today,” he muses, taking one glance at your reddening face as he fixes the plates of pancakes in front and across you.

“...How was I yesterday, then?” You ask, though you don't actually want to hear the answer.

The man hums in thought, taking his sweet time while pouring coffee over two mugs. “Troublesome,” he decides to say. “You nearly puked over my rug, after all.”

You sputter, making all kinds of apologies and promises of compensation when all of a sudden, he laughs. “Nah, I'm kidding. But this means you don't remember anything at all, right?” He sits across from you, sliding the mug to your hand.

“No...” You take a sip, but you barely register how it tastes. “I remember ordering a lot of drinks, but that's pretty much it.”

“That's a shame.” He sighs, leaning back on his chair as he sips coffee. “I suppose that means our dinner plans are void, then.”

“Absolutely not!” The words come out of your lips before your brain-to-mouth filter processes it fully, your hand slamming down the mug on the table in protest. “Uh... that is... if you're available whenever...” You get a hold of yourself and feel your cheeks burning in shame.

He doesn't try to hide the amused smirk on his face. “Sure. I'll be looking forward to your hometown cooking, then.”

Just what on earth did you do last night...?

???

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact fic #fluff #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley x you #it doesn't happen immediately but you do get together eventually #your ex sees you with your new man so he realizes who really won that breakup

3K notes · View notes

rinneverse · 1 month

Note

pspspsp,,, do you perhaps have a spare boothill thought or two ,, sfw or nsfw,,,

i most certainly do have a few spare boothill thoughts! mostly nsfw ( ¬‿¬) walk with me nonnie… heheheh this got a wee bit too out of hand and i dropped WAY more than a few thoughts (and i am also tipsy, so i apologize in advance if something doesn't make sense) regardless, i hope u rlly like this :3

cw. assorted boothill x f!reader thoughts, manhandling, biting, improper use of a lasso (bondage!), mentions of overstim, lack of stamina is a foreign concept to boothill, talk of cyborg dick and artificial cum, creampies. not proofread in the slightest if there are typos no there's not

𓆩♡𓆪 the thing about boothill is how unafraid he is of manhandling you. while he's aware that humans are much more fragile than he, he knows your limits like the back of his hand and he knows what you can handle. you can take him like a big girl, can't you?

𓆩♡𓆪 he'll fold you in half, put you in all sorts of positions, toss you over his shoulder and pat your plush ass with a smug laugh. if you decide you want to ride him and get all tuckered out, thighs burning, the moment you're whining and babbling for his help he's already on it. big hands envelop your waist as he moves you to his whims.

𓆩♡𓆪 boothill likes to see you pleasure-drunk, entirely fucked out by the time he's done with you. he can go for as long as you need, baby; you just have to say the word. he can eat you out for hours, fuck you for double that, and still have enough energy to take care of you afterwards.

𓆩♡𓆪 cyborg sex has the potential to really get freaky tbh... he's definitely had chats with you about different 'attachments...' whatever you're into. he's definitely figured out which size makes you cum the most, and will indulge your every whim—especially when you shyly ask him "baby... can we go bigger?" (if he still had a human body, his dick would be rock fucking hard right now.) he's definitely looked into vibrating attachments. great heavens.

𓆩♡𓆪 SPEAKING OF attachments he's looked into: boothill has definitely found a way to creampie you. the tipping point for him deep diving into this was when you were just whinin' so pretty for him, begging for more, and you had let it slip that you wished so bad for him to be able to cum into you. lo and behold, he finds a solution and he surprises you by cumming deep in your aching cunt one night. the two of you definitely make a mess of your bedsheets by the end of the day (and you probably had the most earth-shattering orgasms you've ever had in your life).

𓆩♡𓆪 the day you finally asked him what his teeth would feel like, boothill's grinning like a maniac. he won't bite so hard that it hurts too much, but he knows how much you like the power he holds over you. sharp teeth sink into flesh, followed by a hot tongue that laves over the mark adoringly.

𓆩♡𓆪 another day he indulged you... there was one time he noticed you eyeing the lasso that hangs at his hips. he smiles wolfishly at you and asks, "like what you see, darlin'?" he's surprised when you shyly nod your head and look up at him with sweet doe eyes and asks if maybe... he'd consider using it in the bedroom?

𓆩♡𓆪 and oh, he did. he considered it maybe a little too hard (he jerked himself off far too many times that day). when the time came for him to use it on you, he was fiending. he ties your wrists to the bedposts and just goes to town, treating your cute body like a pretty little cum dump. he's definitely a big fan. especially when you can't run away from all the pleasure he wants to give you <3

𓆩♡𓆪 he doesn't look it, but i think he provides good aftercare. he knows how fragile the human body is firsthand: that's why he's a cyborg now. he'll take care of you. without fail, every time he's done with you, you're practically a puddle, exhausted and jelly-boned, and boothill is scooping you up into his metal arms. and yet despite the cool metal pressing against your flesh, you feel warm. maybe it's just the love pouring out of his every action, the way he treats your body with absolute reverence and adoration as he cleans you up and gets you ready for some rest.

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!

#☆ oakie writes #boothill smut #boothill x reader #hsr smut #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #star rail x reader #star rail smut #oakie answers #anon <3

2K notes · View notes

moon-rivr · 2 months

Note

hear me out, we already know Miguel is probably touch-starved, but imagine him being really touch-starved. Maybe the reader is a baker or smth so she's naturally sweet (wink wink nudge nudge) and maybe just a little chubby. Miguel is always shy about asking readers for small things, like kisses and hugs, but she's really nice about it.

One day, Miguel has had a bad day and goes over to the reader's house for cuddles and is very grumpy about it, which makes reader kinda surprised and flustered to see how demanding he is about it. But as he's cuddling with her, he is very touchy per se and won't stop kneading parts of reader's thighs and shmoobis, which makes her really flustered but she doesn't want to ruin Miguel's moment

this could be smutty but fluff and the end because Miguel deserves a little sweetness in his life

sweetest bite

pairing: miguel o’hara x chubby fem reader

contents: thigh fucking, nipple play, mating press, miguel being a munch (as per usual), oral (m), improper use of frosting, aftercare(ish)

author’s note: i’m so behind on requests i’m so sorry, i promise i’ll get to work on them 😭 i hope you still enjoy this though. trying sum new with the whole layout so lmk your thots 🥸

word count: 6.8k (yeah idk how to explain this one chief)

You were the sweetest thing miguel allowed himself to indulge in. Well, you and your pastries. He'd gotten so used to sacrificing his happiness for the better of the multiverse, of sacrificing everything that he had to give just to make sure that it stayed intact. But, he couldn't stay away from the little baker that set shop on 11th street in Nueva York.

"You should go and visit this little shop I found a couple days ago. The empanadas are to die for," Jess had told him after the last batch at the HQ hadn't been up to par with his standards. He wasn't expecting much out of his visit, the most he was hoping for was decent replacement for the botched empanadas and a cup of coffee. After all, Jess had never strayed him in the wrong direction in terms of food.

The scent of cinnamon and a pinch of vanilla filled up his nostrils as he walked into the shop, the aroma providing a homely feeling. It didn't compare to the other shops scattered around the city, the ones who smelt like stale bread and probably had rats scattering around in this back. Every single space from the shop looked clean, the white floors beneath his feet almost showing his reflection.

No, this was one was nice. From the peonies that you had on a vase at the front desk to the sheer decoration of the walls, a couple paintings scattered across the pink and white walls. Nothing looked out of place, everything seemed to coordinate perfectly. The lofi music playing in the background only added to the atmosphere, putting him in a more relaxed mood than he originally was. His jaw unclenched and his muscles were slack, a sense of calmness rushing through him.

The people inside also seemed to have a silent understanding that the atmosphere was supposed to be relaxing, conversations exchanged in light whispers. It was a nice change of pace from the usual bustling streets of Nueva York, almost like a place where time seemed to stop completely. A place that was an escape from the city, a safe haven of sorts. It provided him with a sense of normalcy he wasn't even aware that he wanted.

He normally didn't spend time appreciating the aesthetic of a place given how busy his schedule was, but he could see the appeal of this little shop. He almost regretted not finding this shop earlier, it provided with more relaxation than he'd ever find at the empty tables of the HQ cafeteria. There was nobody here that knew him, nobody there to avoid his presence or criticize his actions. Everyone just regarded him like he was one of their own, continuing on with their conversations.

What Jess had failed to mention to him before he came here is that the owner would be so enthralling. You weren't doing much apart from tapping something into the register yet you still managed to capture his attention. He wanted to look away to avoid coming off as a creep but his eyes seemed to defy his brain's instructions, keeping his attention solely for you. The chatter in the background died to a low hum as he watched you hand a paper bag to the man in front of you.

"How's your wife and kids?" He couldn't help but be taken aback when the question slipped from your lips, surprised at the gesture. Most of the people in Nueva York were so consumed in their own lives that they didn't bother to remember much about anybody else, much less ask any questions that didn't serve them an individual gain. Even with his enhanced hearing, all he could focus was on what you were saying like a siren luring him in.

He could tell from the little smile on your face that the man was engaging in the conversation, your hands struggling to keep up as you talked with him. He'd overheard you mention something about packing in a few extra cookies for the kids, his heart swelling at a gesture that wasn't even meant for him. You and the man kept talking for about another minute before he told you goodbye and you waved at him as he departed the shop. Miguel was next in line, but he felt his feet stuck to the ground like quicksand.

He was so enticed by the sight of you, the way your eyes illuminated under the white lights. Lighting that would normally make someone appear sickly only seemed to accentuate your features out to him even more. "Next, please," your voice came out like sheer honey to his ears, snapping him out of the trance he was in. He took two steps forward, coming up to the register. He'd spent so much of time simply just looking at you that he hadn't even bothered to look over the menu. You didn't annoyed at him for holding up the line, your finger tapping against the marble countertop as you waited for his decision.

"I'll get two of your conchas and three of your empanadas with a hot roast coffee," he finally spoke up after a while, looking over from the menu to you. "You want the empanadas made out of flour or corn?" You inquired after typing the order into the register. "I’ll get corn, please," he pulled out his wallet as he spoke, handing you much more than the amount showing up on the screen. You tried to give him back the change, but it only ended up in the pink tip jar you had set next to the register.

"Can I get a name for your order, please?" You asked him before he had the chance to walk away, his footsteps coming to a stop before he turned over to face you. "Miguel," he responded before he finally stepped away, leaving you feeling flustered and confused. The way his voice sounded to your ears was something out of pure sin, a part of you wanting to indulge in that as much as possible. But you refused to make a big deal out of the mildly handsome customer, refused to make a big deal out of the fleeting glances he shot your way and the way he also seemed to feel a spark between the two of you when your hands touched.

You could feel his stare as you kneaded the dough, but you didn't seem to mind it all that much. It seemed more like he was analyzing you, the way that you moved rather than something predatory. You had a small radio set up in the back to liven up the mood while you were baking, your hips swaying to the rhythm of the salsa song playing. You hummed along to the beat, setting the pan in the oven. You leaned against the counter as you waited, all the other goods pretty much set for another couple hours.

"Miguel!" You called out, watching as he got off the spot he was leaning on and walked over to you. He thanked you once you handed him the paper bag, his fingertips almost seeming to purposely want to touch yours this time around. Nope. Not gonna make a big deal out it. You forced yourself to look away from him as he stepped away from the counter, plastering a smile on your face as you greeted the next customer coming in. Greta. You'd taken the time to learn these people's names and learn what it is that they tended to get just to give them a sense of being seen.

The first bite of the concha had been delectable, a low moan escaping from his lips as he savored the taste of the warm cinnamon and vanilla blending together. He hadn't had a concha like this one since he took a business trip to Mexico. While Nueva York was quickly adjusting to fit the needs of the diversifying population, it didn't mean that every restaurant provided that taste of home he was longing for. Most of them just felt like a cheap replacement of the real thing, the taste usually bland and lacking seasoning.

But now he had an entirely different dilemma on his hands. a part of him wanted to eat the concha slowly, savor every bite of the treat while the other part of him wanted to scarf it down as quickly as he could. Eventually he lost the battle against his self control, eating the two conchas and one of the empanadas. Every part of this evening had surpassed his expectations, the empanadas being more than 'decent.' He would normally be more careful in the way that he ate, but now, crumbs were making their way down his black shirt and to his pants. Yet, he could seem to care less.

"How'd you like the treats? I haven't seen you around before so I'm assuming it's your first time," You asked him as he stepped up to the register, your head tilting back slightly to look at the man in the eyes. The afternoon sunlight coming from the door accentuated his eyes, almost making them look like a melting pot of rubies. While your shop was met with various different people everyday at almost every hour, you knew that you couldn't forget him even if you tried. His name still rang like a melody throughout your head.

"Liked them so much i'm planning on buying another concha," he told you, sliding one hand into the pocket of his pants to take his wallet out. "I'm glad you liked them so much. That'll be two dollars," you told him, taking the money from him and setting it in the cash register. You waved at him as he left, convincing yourself that the look back he gave after stepping out of the shop hadn't been for you. Even if you really wished that it would've been. All you could do was just hope that he would come back again soon.

Going back to work had proven to be more of a struggle than he originally thought, His mind replaying the small moments between the two of you. Your hand grazing against his as you handed him the cup of coffee. The smile that seemed to be just a little bit wider when directed towards him. He could still feel his hand tingling from the spot where you'd touched him, your touch electrifying him every way possible.

"For fuck's sake," he muttered to himself as he opened up one of the files on the monitors, the words blurring together despite his best efforts to maintain his focus. He felt like a fool, being in his 30s and obsessing over somebody in this manner like he was a school boy. Despite the fact that he felt like a fool, he couldn't help the smile that threatened to overcome his features at just the mere thought of seeing you again in that little pink apron. All he could do was munch on the extra concha that he'd bought, his mind constantly wandering back to you.

Miguel hadn't attempted to be in a relationship after finding his ex and his father sleeping together, the experience being enough to traumatize him for this lifetime and the next. He'd given up on being a romantic, of going through the motions of learning what a woman's favorite color was and gifting her flowers that ended up wilting by the hour. He'd engaged in a few hookups from time to time, though he only ended up feeling like an asshole afterwards. They expected his call back, only to have their text not even go through. But.. he wasn't interested in you for that.

Sure, he could admit it to himself that you were probably one of the most beautiful women he's laid eyes on. The way your hips moved in the shop was hypnotic, the small movement making all sorts of domestic thoughts run through his head. But he wanted to know what it was that made you tick, what made you laugh, what it is that made you cry. He didn't see you as a prize to gain, but rather as something that he wanted to treasure. Someone that he could see himself coming home to after a long day of work.

The week following his first visit, he'd been buried under mountains of work. Whether it be misplaced files, a sudden surge of anomalies popping up, or just the daily Spider-Man activities that he was tasked with. He'd been looking for a spare opportunity to go back into your shop, maybe ask for your number this time around, but that opportunity usually got shot down with the amount of work he had due. He'd only managed to get a couple glimpses of you when he happened to swing by your store a couple times, his memory saving the moment like an sd card.

He'd managed to get a few moments to himself on a Friday, leaving immediately to go to your bakery before he got stopped by one of the members. He'd barely had one interaction with you and he was already starting to feel depraved having to go a couple days without talking to you. The bell placed on top of the door announced his arrival as he came in, your attention shifting from the counter you were restocking over to the door. You looked as beautiful as every time he's had the pleasure of seeing you.

"Thought you might've found another bakery to go to, Miguel. After you complimented my conchas too," you spoke first, giving him a teasing smile as he approached the counter. "There's no other bakery that would be able to size up to this one. I just got busy with work is all," he knew that you were just teasing him, but he still wanted to explain himself to you. Though he wasn't sure if you'd even thought about him that much. but surely you had, since you noted his absence. He was struggling the same as you were not to let these little gestures go to his head.

"Do you want what you got last time?" You asked him, his heartbeat thundering against his own ears. It was like you were trying to kill him now. He could understand why so many people came to your bakery now, for that feeling of being seen by you. Of getting that sense of meaning something to someone, well at least enough for you to remember their order. "Make it three conchas instead of two this time, please," he responded, once again giving you way much more than the amount had totaled out to be before going to wait for his order.

All he knew was that he had to have more than the complimentary conversation with you, but he couldn't figure out how to approach it. "The shop isn't too busy, what would you say to having a cup of coffee with me?" He mustered up the courage to ask you, his gaze almost burning into your soul as he waited for an answer. He hoped that he wouldn't push you away with this sudden offer, hoping that it hadn't been too forward on his part. He'd meant for it as a friendly outing for you to relax a while, but he wouldn't be able to deny the fact that he was already thinking of how to ask you on a date.

You looked around the shop to find that it was indeed empty, only a couple people talking amongst themselves left. Even if someone walked in, you had another employee that would be able to assist them. "Sure, let me just go hang up my apron and I’ll go join you," you finally spoke up after taking a couple seconds to consider, turning around to mask the excitement threatening to overcome your body. You slid off your apron and set it to the side, getting yourself a cup of coffee before walking over to the booth Miguel was sitting at. It almost felt ridiculous to admit to yourself that you were able to now find him in every room that he stepped in with ease.

"How long have you been a baker for?" He asked you after taking a bite of his concha, wiping away the crumbs that lingered onto his white shirt. "I've been baking for some time now, since I was in like middle school? I used to practice with an easy bake oven when I was younger before evolving into actually edible things," you shared with him, your eyes practically lighting up at the prospect of getting to talk about something that meant a lot to you. Conversation flowed easily enough between the two of you, an exchange of questions being asked from both sides.

You looked up over to the door when you heard the bell ringing, the second wave of customers walking in. As much as you would've liked to continue talking with him, you knew that your one employee wouldn't be able to handle the rush by themselves. "It was lovely talking to you. but I have to get going back to work," you stood up from the table as you spoke, grabbing the empty cup of coffee. Before you got the chance to walk away though, Miguel wrapped his arm around your wrist. Not tight enough for it to hurt, but certainty enough for it to make you stop in your tracks.

"I want to go on a date with you. I'd really like to keep talking with you, if that's something you wanted," he told you, his grip around your wrist loosening before eventually letting go. You grabbed a napkin from the corner of the table and a pen from your pocket, hastily scribbling out your number on it. "Just text me and we can work something out. I want to keep talking to you too," you responded before you went back to work, though your mind wasn't too much on the baked goods as much as it was on Miguel for the rest of the evening.

Your first date with Miguel was something that you'd never forget, the way he looked over at you every time you had something to share about yourself or the way that he let some of his walls down to let you pass through. But the way that his lips felt against yours was the most memorable part of the evening, your apartment lights just illuminating enough for you to make out the shape of his face. Every date following that one was a moment of absolute bliss, time seeming to stop whenever you two were together.

You were at the dining table when he came back from work, your brows furrowed in concentration as you mixed the bowl in your hands. The sweet aroma of vanilla reminded him that he was home again. The light at the end of a tunnel. it almost got him out of the mood that he was in. Almost. The exhaustion and annoyance from the day managed to maintain their claws on him, his footsteps trudging up the stairs as he went to change. He deactivated his suit, pulling a pair of grey sweatpants and a black tee over himself before going back downstairs.

You'd heard the door open but you were surprised to find that Miguel didn't bother to greet you the same way he used to. 'Cariño, ya llegue,' he'd say after a long day at work, (honey i’m home) Usually taking a seat across from you at the dining table just to hear you talk about your day. You figured that he just needed some space, that he'd come to you if he wanted that sense of intimacy from you again. You busied yourself with mixing in the dry ingredients along with the wet ones, almost ready to put the batter in the oven.

"Missed you so bad, hermosura," you heard from behind you, large arms wrapping around your stomach while his head rested on your shoulder. You were about to tell him that the sentiment was mutual when you felt his hands making their way up to your breasts, kneading them in his hands. He let out a contented sigh as he felt your body mold underneath his hands, having you turn into putty at just the smallest touch. He'd never been this touchy with you before, well he'd never been the one to start off this type of contact.

As much as he liked the feeling of your lips molding against his, the feeling of having your body pressed against him with every hug that he gave you, he never asked for it. He was just.. too shy to even try to start it off. He figured that it would come off as something weird, that his inexperience towards having intimate moments would be shed into the light. He knew that you wouldn't make fun of him for that, but a part of him couldn't help but be wary. He usually just tended to wait until you came up to him, wrapping your arms around him as you sought out for the comfort that only he could provide.

You felt your body being ignited into flames from the way he was touching, your body a manual that he had read thousands of times before. He knew everything that would turn your little head off to anything other than him. You didn't want to stop him now that he was feeling comfortable enough to initiate contact with you, but you'd almost mixed in a spoonful of salt rather than sugar. You willed yourself to finish up with the batter, your hands shaking as you brought the electric mixer down to the bowl.

"Miguel, lemme focus on finishing up with this batch and we can do whatever you want after that," you tried to negotiate with him, the plea landing on deaf ears as his hands travelled down to the expanse of your ass. Your back was arching instinctively, reacting solely to his commands. Sometimes it felt like he had more control of your body than you ever did, every little thing that he did serving a purpose to arouse you even further. He squeezed gently, his hands coming up to rest on your hips as he nestled his head into the crook of your shoulder.

"Don't let me interrupt you. Sigue con tus pastelitos e ignora mis caricias," his voice dropped about an octave as he spoke, his lips dangerously close to your ear. (keep at it with your cupcakes and ignore my caresses) Surely he must've known that what he was telling you to do was pointless. He knew the effect that he had on your body, knows the effect that he's having on you at this moment. You let out a small sigh of relief once the batter had finished mixing in, pouring it in slowly into the pan. You stepped off to the side, putting the pan inside the oven before turning to face Miguel.

"Let me just have your thighs, I won't ask for more," he murmured, his hands coming down to your thighs while his thumbs rubbed small circles on them. At your approval, he went over and sat down at the dining table, his legs spreading to give you access to sit down. He looked like a king sitting down on his throne, his large thighs taking up most of the space on the chair. Almost like he demanded respect. His thighs flexed with every movement, your legs moving on their own accord to get closer to him.

"You have approximately," you started off, your eyes shifting over to the small clock on the kitchen counter, "ten minutes." He let out a small chuckle, lifting his hips up to slide his sweatpants just underneath his balls. He'd made it a habit of going commando underneath his suit, the habit following into his daily attire as well. His cock was already starting to leak precum onto his stomach despite the fact you two hadn't done anything too extreme yet. "That's okay. I only needed nine anyways."

You sat down in between his legs, squeezing your thighs together while the tip of his cock prodded at the underside of your legs. You felt the chair creaking underneath you as he thrusted his hips into your thighs. "Would've done this sooner if I would've known it felt this good. Love your thighs so much, mami," despite the fact that he tried to keep up with his dominant persona, he would do anything if it meant he got to have you like this again.

His hands travelled up his your shirt, rolling your nipples in between his fingers. Your back was flush against his chest as your mouth slightly opened, heavy breaths escaping from your lips. His slick coated the insides of your thighs, wetting them in his essence. Your hand went down to where the tip of his cock was poking through, your thumb rubbing small circles alongside the tip.

"Close your legs a little more for me mami."

"Yeah, just like that," he managed to get out through labored breaths, your thighs squeezing his cock in a similar way that your pussy would. You felt his mouth making its way down your throat, nibbling on the sensitive spots that would have you squirming. His touch was everywhere except for where you needed him the most, your desperation towards the situation growing even further. For someone who'd only agreed to thigh fucking, you seemed to be regretting it already.

You felt your slick leaking down from your folds down to the thin material of your panties, one of your hands reaching down to alleviate the tension building inside you. You hadn't even managed to make it to the waistband before Miguel was already pulling your fingers away, holding it with his other hand. "So greedy. Only I'm allowed to please that little pussy, remember," he warned you, though his voice carried no actual sense of danger to it given how needy he sounded. He made it a point to be the only one to please you, not your own fingers and certainly not anybody else's fingers.

He was rutting into your thighs at an erratic pace, no sense of stability as he felt his balls start to tighten up with every second that your warm thighs enveloped him. That was until he heard the loud 'RING' from the countertop. "No te pares. I'm almost there," he tried to speak over the sound of the timer's ring but you were already standing up by the time he'd finished speaking. (don’t stand up) You wiped away the sweat that accumulated on your forehead, taking a couple deep breaths to get your breathing back to normal. "What happened to only needing nine minutes?"

He let out a small huff as he pulled his sweatpants back on, staying seated at the dinner table. Miguel wanted nothing more than to take you right now, but he was willing to be patient for a couple more minutes. You bent over to take the cupcakes out of the oven, the scent of vanilla hitting your nose instantly. You almost jumped at the feeling of miguel's hands rubbing your ass through your panties if it hadn't been for the fact you had a hot pan in your hands. You placed the pan down, taking the cupcakes out of it and setting them on a plate to get them ready for the frosting portion.

"Ah fuck," you trembled out as you felt Miguel's breath fan against your wet cunt, your pussy clenching around nothing at the sensation. "Already so wet and I haven't even touched her yet," he murmured, spreading your folds with two of his fingers. He let a globe of spit trail from your ass down to your cunt, feeling his cock strain against his sweatpants. He could feel your clit pulsing underneath his fingertips, your body betraying you when you said you wanted to wait. You wanted this as much as he did. If not, maybe even more.

You pushed your hips back onto his face as he pushed his tongue into your wet cunt, feeling your slick coat every single one of his tastebuds at the contact. He knew how proud you were of the baked goods you made, but none of them would ever compare to the taste of your essence. The frosting on the cupcakes started to come out lopsided as you tried to squeeze it on, your hands shaking every time you tried to bring the pipe up to them. "Don't stop," you moaned out, eventually just giving up on the task of trying to keep frosting the cupcakes. The perfectionist in you couldn't stand seeing the sight of the uneven plaster of frosting.

Miguel ate out your cunt like he was a starving man, the task messy as he spat into it and pushed his tongue inside you. Your slick mixed with his spit, the taste of you almost making him delirious. You gripped the countertop tightly, your eyes fluttered shut as you basked in everything that Miguel was giving you. His tongue swirled around your clit in small circles, the sudden stimulation having your toes curling and your eyes seeing stars. You turned around to look at him, your slick coating majority of his chin while some of it dribbled down to his shirt. His eyes were tightly shut as he focused on the task at hand, almost seeming more into it than you were.

You brought your hand up to his hair, tugging at the roots as you pushed him closed to your pussy. He'd vocalized before about how much he liked the mixture of pain and pleasure, a moan vibrating into your cunt as a response. You felt yourself getting closer to that climax, Miguel’s tongue continuing its motions on your clit while his thick fingers opened you up to take his cock later on. You let out an exasperated sigh when you felt him pull away from you just as you were about to cum, though that was quickly shut down when he pressed his lips onto yours.

You got down on your knees, wet kisses marking his tan skin as you made your way down his stomach. You looked over at him, the sight in front of you truly something to behold. His head was lolled back, half-lidded eyes as he met your gaze. His chest heaved with every breath that he took, growing heavier as he felt your lips starting to make their way down his happy trail. He'd stopped bothering to shave it after noticing how much you liked it, the way you licked your lips every time his sweatpants clung a little too low on his hips.

Though his cock was twitching with need right in front of you, painfully erect, you decided to take your time. You kissed his inner thighs, occasionally marking him the same way he'd do to you. Your fingernails raked their way down his thighs, the muscles tensing underneath your touch. You wanted to tease him just as much as he'd teased you earlier, wanting some type of comeback after your ruined orgasm. You delivered a couple more kisses before making your way to his cock, pressing a kiss on the reddened tip.

“Hand me that bag of frosting, please," your voice came out uncharacteristically seductive to your own ears. You'd grown so used to being the sweet girl at the bakery that you hadn't expected yourself to even be a seductress. Miguel reached over to grab the pipe with vanilla frosting inside, handing it over to you. You squirted a little bit of the frosting onto his shaft, setting the pipe aside before leaning in. Your mouth wrapped around his cock, your tongue licking the stripe of frosting up before pulling away. "Think you're gonna kill me, little minx."

Miguel's hands went down to the sides of your head as you took him in your throat, soft moans escaping from his lips. Spit dribbled down the side of his shaft, your hand wrapping around it as you worked it up and down. Though your hand was smaller than his, he enjoyed the feeling of having you jerk him off. Your touch felt more delicate than his own, which tended to be a series of harsh thrusts just to get a quick orgasm. Your mouth came down to his cock again, taking him in much deeper than last time.

Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock to make up for what your mouth couldn't reach, both working in tandem. Your cheeks hollowed as you tried to take him in deeper, willing the muscles in your throat to relax while you did so. "That's it, taking me so well. Nadie me lo chupa mejor que tu," he praised you as you bobbed your head up and down his cock, spit dribbling from the corners of your mouth.

As much as he wanted to cum inside your mouth and see the way that you struggled to sometimes keep his heavy load inside, he wanted nothing more than to cum inside your pussy beforehand. He pulled you off as the height of his peak, watching your eyes flicker over to his in confusion. You were pretty sure you were doing everything that he wanted you to do from his reactions, the way his moans just so freely escaped from his mouth.

"You didn't do anything wrong. just want to cum inside you before anything else," he assured you after seeing the expression of your face, helping you up from the floor. He wiped away the precum mixed in with your spit from the corner of your mouth with his thumb, holding it against your lips. He watched as your tongue darted out before enveloping his finger into your mouth. The way your tongue wrapped around it was heavenly, your eyes shutting as you cleaned off his finger.

Miguel went over to the sink and ran a paper towel under cold water, cleaning any remnants of the frosting that might've been left behind. The last thing the both of you needed was for you to get a UTI as a result from this encounter. He came back over to you, kissing your cheek and muttering some apology about the cupcakes. Not that you cared about them anyways, all you could think about was Miguel having his way with you. He grabbed your hand and intertwined with his, leading you out of the kitchen and out into the living room.

Miguel led you over to the couch, raising your knees up to your chest. You placed your hands underneath your legs, watching as Miguel gave himself a couple languid strokes before slowly pushing his cock inside. "Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned out as he felt your walls fluttering against him, your cunt stretching to adjust to him. Your mouth was parted in a 'o' shape as he pushed his cock even further, your wetness coating his shaft with every delicious inch that he pushed inside.

He loved looking down at you in this position, at how your face contorted into one of pleasure as the sting from the stretch settled in. The way that your tits bounced in sync with every single one of his punishing thrusts. He loved every single part of you, even the parts that you found yourself complaining about at times. He wanted to drill into your head that you were desire embodied, that nobody would be able to compare to the way that you do. No one was even close to comparing to you in his eyes.

Your body was basically bent in half as you laid there to take every single inch that he had to offer, the tip of his cock bulging against your tummy. "Feel how deep I am in you, mami?" He murmured, pressing his hand down where he was at before retreating his cock in one swift motion. The loss was quickly replaced when he thrusted back inside you, relishing the feeling of your walls clenching around him like a vice.

His heavy balls smacked against your ass with every thrust that he made, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the otherwise empty apartment. The loud squelch of your essence coating his cock added onto the symphony of sounds, moans escaping from the two of you as he started to get deeper with his thrusts. You felt filled up to the brim, yet it almost felt like you weren't getting enough. The desire you felt for Miguel wasn't something that was easily satiated, if anything it only grew more with the attention that he was giving you.

The hand that wasn't holding your legs came over to his arm, gripping it tightly for some kind of thing to tether you down to the moment. Your pussy clamped around him a vice, prompting him closer to his orgasm. He prolonged it as long as he could, reciting useless science facts inside of his head. An octopus has three hearts. Though his stamina was high enough to get hard after his orgasm, he didn't want to ruin the moment between the two of you by cumming prematurely.

One of his hands went down to your clit, stimulating the bundle of nerves between his thumb and pointer finger. He rubbed small circles on it, his speed matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Your nails dug into his forearm the harder that his thrusts got, the pain only serving to accentuate his pleasure. "Fuck. Pussy's practically milking me," he uttered, his voice coming out in a groan at the way you were squeezing around him.

Your legs dropped down from your chest, wrapping around his legs as you held him close to you. If he'd even fathomed the idea of pulling out beforehand, the idea was quickly removed from the forefront of his brain the moment you did that. "Cum in me, please," your voice came out whiny as you felt yourself getting closer to that release, your toes curling from every rub being given to your clit. "Cum with me."

His hand enveloped yours as he slid in and out of you with ease, his pace having no rhythm now that he was approaching his orgasm. His thrusts were erratic as he worked the two of you towards that cliff, his fingers gripping yours tightly as if you were a lifeline. Warm ropes of cum shot up your cunt, your walls coated in white up to the brim. His orgasm had prompted your own, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you creamed over his shaft.

Your release mixed with his to form a creamy ring around the base of his cock, some of the liquid leaking out from your cunt. He stuffed it back in with the tip of his cock to the best of his ability, a moan escaping from your throat at the feeling of him sliding in once more. While you could usually match his stamina pretty well, it'd been days since you'd last had sex with him. You were starting to feel worn out from the physical strain he'd put your body through. You wouldn’t change this feeling of euphoria for anything else though.

Miguel slid his softening cock out of your cunt slowly, careful not to overstimulate you in the process. He leaned over and pressed a kiss on your forehead, wiping away the sweat from your forehead. "You did so good for me, lindura," he whispered in your ear, stroking your thighs in soft circles before standing up from the couch. "Stay there and I'll come back with some clothes."

You looked over at him and gave him a nod, your body falling limp on the couch as you felt an ache forming on your legs. You closed your eyes for a second, or what you'd assumed was a second, only to open them to see Miguel standing over you with a pair of pajama shirts and one of his t-shirts. "Try to sit up for me. You don't have to anything," he reassured you, getting to work on cleaning you up before dressing you after you'd sat up.

The two of you sat on the couch with a cheesy romance movie the two of you weren't watching, each holding a cupcake. His hand wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close to his body as his hand lazily drew circles on the side of your stomach. "I see why you liked that thing with the frosting. It's pretty sweet," he noted after taking a bite from his cupcake, leaning over to grab some that was sitting on your nose for a while. You let out a small contented laugh, poking the side of his cheek. There was no other place that you'd rather be other than his arms at this moment.

taglist 🫶🏼: @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @pxtched @nympholove @ifiwasaguybrickedup @yournextbimbogf @nixinluv02

2K notes · View notes

gas-station-trackphone · 6 months

Text

ftm trans Eddie Munson gets turned into a chew toy for hell bats and rescued in the 11th hour by his friends who don't know he's trans, who have to run some triage first aid and can hardly make sense of the blood and gore that used to be his body as they cut off his shirt and pants to get access to the worst of the wounds, who definitely aren't in their right minds well enough anyway to think of anything other than stopping the bleeding and getting him to a hospital, which they do, and miraculously Eddie finds himself blinking awake in a bright, fluorescent room feeling exactly like he imagines a chew toy for hell bats would feel in the aftermath which is to say: like shit. Even more miraculously, he finds hometown hero Steve Harrington posted up at his bedside with greasy hair (!!! Eddie never thought he'd see the day) and bags under his eyes.

The overwhelming relief on Steve's face when he sees Eddie is awake is touching, the misty eyes and cracking voice when he says god, i thought you were toast, man are downright flattering and, let's face it, giving Eddie all the wrong ideas that he figures he has an I-almost-died pass for at the moment so he rocks with it, let's himself indulge in the fantasy for a moment. Then, gradually, Steve's relief becomes more and more obviously some brand of deeply felt pity (or sympathy, but Eddie's never been good at distinguishing the two), which bursts his bubble enough to call him out.

"I know I look like what comes out the business end of a meat grinder, but I swear I'm good, dude. They definitely have me on the good shit, I hardly feel it. I'll be good as new in no time." Big fat fucking lie, by the way, but he'll say whatever if it gets that wounded puppy look out of Harrington's eyes.

"I...yeah, Eddie, I'm glad." And whatever it is he doesn't want to say, whatever is putting that you poor motherfucker look on his face, he's absolutely the opposite of subtle about it.

Eddie can hear the manifestation of his panic on the heart monitor.

"What? What is it? Is everyone- is Dustin-?" He can't say it, can't even think it, would rather be slowly torn to shreds all over again than know he failed at his one fucking task to keep the kid safe.

"No! I mean, yes, he's fine, they're all fine. Henderson's got a broken ankle and both of Max's arms are broken but the docs say they'll be fine in a few months with physical therapy."

The release of tension in Eddie's body hurts almost as much as the relief soothes him. "Okay then, what the fuck are you not telling me? It's fine, I'm a big boy, Harrington, I can take it."

He sighs, looking sick with it. "Eds...I don't know how to tell you this."

Oh god, what the fuck. Eddie's right back to freaking out because Steve looks inexplicably guilty, pained in the face like he's about to deliver the worst news he could imagine but if everyone's fine then-

"It's your dick, man. It's- it's gone. The bats-"

And Eddie laughs so hard he tears about a dozen stitches, immediately stops laughing, and throws up over the side of the bed and thankfully not all over his freshly reopened wounds as Steve shouts for help.

Eventually, when he's all stitched up again and barely hanging on to his hard earned lesson to not literally bust his gut laughing about the look on Steve's face (he has to force himself not to tell Wayne the specifics of how he ended up back in the OR, because he's absolutely gonna crack up and Eddie will definitely be unable to help himself from laughing with him), he realizes he's going to come out to all his friends in the very near future because holy shit, he has to tell everyone about Steve's utterly devastated expression at the news of Eddie's Ken doll-ification by way of demobat.

#I've been laughing about this in my head for WEEKS #the idea that steve feels so bad eddie got his dick eaten by demobats that he literally can't hide it and tells him immediately kills me #as always please read into the gay subtext here bc yes eddie also tells this story at their wedding many years down the line #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie

2K notes · View notes

boyfiejay · 3 months

Text

Princess Treatment with Sunghoon 🎀

PAIRING : Sunghoon x hyper feminine Reader

GENRE : bullet points, sunshine x grumpy

Warning : reader wears skirts, mention of food, reader gets spoiled, hoon can't express his feelings well, kissing, a little suggestive at the end but nothing graphic

Word Count : 1.3k

Author's note : this is just me having a sunghoon brain rot...

●You two were friends for a long time before you got together. Everyone around you witnessed Sunghoon going from the cold, distant guy, to then a slightly more friendly guy to a completely lovestruck puppy

●You two getting together was inevitable tbh, you two just knew the other was the one

●Sunghoon is so whipped for you, the partner privilege is so intense

●If he sees his favourite tiramisu has a bite in it, he's all mad but if he gets to know that you ate it then he just gives the whole thing to you

●All it takes is a doe eyed look and man is folding

●Also he is always talking about you. Like everyone around him knows he has a partner, constantly rambling about anything that reminds him of you or dropping random facts about you

●It is to the point that Heeseung knew your go to order at your favourite cafe and the kind of drink you like

●Do not mention the way he just giggles and kicks his feet like a teenage girl when you do something adorable

●It doesn't even have to be anything cute, he just always finds you cute no matter what

●You just woke up? Beautiful. You are crying? Still pretty. You're dolled up all for him? Oh man...

●This man is obsessed with your skirts and knee high socks and sweaters, particularly if they are ruffled

●He is like drooling when you dress up just for him and do a little twirl

●Always insists on tying your bows and ribbons for you

●Then proceeds to tie one on his bicep and flexes it 😵 (he's so hot)

●He's such a gentleman, but one thing he loves to do is give you his jacket. It doesn't even matter if it isn't cold, or your outfit isn't short, the jacket just completes the look

●He also feels so giddy when you wear his clothes, goes through a mental crisis trying not to smother you with attention

●Fails at it, then continues to give you that whipped smile and just looking at you with so much love

●The attention makes you flustered and shy and that in turn makes him even giddier

●It's sometimes overwhelming how he looks at you with so much adoration

●But thats what makes you know that he does love you because he is not very good at words

●When anyone looks at sunghoon, let's be honest he's intimidating, tall and buff, anyone would be scared.

●But he'd be so so gentle with you, always making sure you're comfortable, holding your hand in crowds, and also giving you flowers :(

●Even his touch in general would be so gentle, he's always touching you as if you would break any second

●He's not great with pda, it makes him a bit uncomfortable to be so mushy with you with people watching.

●But behind closed doors, he's acting like your blanket, always all over you, not a single soul would believe that he's the clingy type

●Calls you cringey nicknames, but the one he likes for himself is 'hoonie' </33

●Literally if anyone else says hoonie, he's giving the nastiest side eye

●But if it's you, he's melting on the floor...

●Some might not like this one, but he's very protective over you. It's not that he doesn't believe that you can't defend yourself, but he can't help but look over you from time to time

●He never speaks up about anything, but if anyone makes you uncomfortable? Oh they're done for

●It's never a physical fight, rather a verbal one with him makes sure that person feels bad for even looking at you

●Thinks you're the cutest when you're mad or annoyed

●Bro just laughs when you are grumbling about something 😭

●Then you proceed to get mad at him and he just clings to you until you forgive him

●As obsessed he is with your clothing, he is also obsessed with buying stuff for you.

●He's always spoiling you, no matter how much you tell him to stop he still does it

●Sometimes you actually get mad and he just gives one pout or a puppy eyed stare and you forgive him. He doesn't even have to whine about spoiling you just this once

●You're just as whipped as he is...

●Sometimes he likes to give you handmade things, paper flowers, love letters, little album of your photos, bracelets and soo much more

●You have a huge box of things he's given, made it his mission to fill up that box by a set time

●He once broke your vase by mistake and then took a pottering class to make you a mini version of that vase (the bigger one kept falling apart) :(((

●Never ever raised his voice on you, like not even once. He can barely get mad at you, this man is never going to yell at you

●Even when you do fight, he tries his best to be calm and talk it out. There hasn't been a single time where he let you go to bed upset

●There are a lot of times when he's just quite and you're talking about something, at first you question whether he's listening or not but he nods along with your talking or hums at things

●It's a bit scary how he remembers stuff you just rambled so well, like you don't even like that new cafe that much but you're so in awe of how well he remembered your words

●He's extremely shy when it comes to professing his love to you, it just makes him annoyed that he can't say how much he loves you.

●What more annoying is that you never push him to say things, he doesn't like that you're so understanding about this

●That's when he started to write letters for you, he felt like he might combust with how much he feels for you. And not being able to say it out loud made it worse

●So he just writes out how he feels and puts it under your pillow, or on your desk or in your bag

●When he first wrote the letter, he insisted that you read in front of him, wanting his fears to at lower a bit

●But when you started tearing up he felt worse, he had tried to keep the letter a bit lowkey but you're tearing up from the bare minimum?

●From then on he tried to be more open about his feelings, and be more vulnerable around you. He wanted you to know that it was just you, it had always been you

●His family loves you so much, it's almost like you are the daughter

●His mom and sister love to tell embarrassing stories about him and make him suffer lmao

●'she's too good for you' his mom, apparently

●He was so shy when you two first kissed, skip to couple weeks later, hes basically devouring your lips

●Very very obsessed with kissing you, no matter what you're doing he's staring at your lips, no thoughts head empty just lips and kisses

●He has to makeout with you at least once a day, it doesn't matter if things never escalate, he just likes the feeling of you being close to him

●Practically melts if you stroke the back of his head or pull his hair

●He gets cock blocked by someone whenever you give him the green signal to continue, he once even chased Jake around because he just burst in without knocking

●He wasnt mad that he couldn't continue, rather it was because he was going to remove your shirt just before he burst in

●Very possessive about what's his but doesnt even bat an eye if you're the one asking for things

●The guys are honestly jealous about how sunghoon only laughs or smiles due to two reasons, either it's lame ass jokes or because of you

●I LOVE HIM SO MUCH YOU HAVE NO IDEA :ʼ(

2K notes · View notes

genshin-obsessed · 3 months

Note

Could I request Diluc, Kaeya, and Zhongli trying their hardest -and failing- not to cry after their wife, due to being tired and frustrated during an argument, wonders if they should get divorced because she thinks she's tying them down?

Ooh, ok, I need to sleep BUT the chance to write angst? sleep can wait! I wasn't entirely sure how to end it so I just left it like this. I'm sure this could be much, much longer but I didn't wanna make it too long, yanno? meant as a fem!reader but I don't mentions pronouns, just the term 'wife'.

▻ Kaeya

He didn't really know when the argument started. He didn't know what it was about anymore either. It was one of those arguments where the points end up getting lost and you're just yelling at one another about something completely unrelated. Honestly, you two were basically screaming at one another. But then he heard that one, awful sentence he never wanted to hear in his life.

"Why don't we just get a divorce and I won't be ruining your life anymore!?" Suddenly, the room's so eerily quiet that you finally realized what you said. Your gaze held Kaeya's and you watched as his usual cocky exterior just melt and tears fill his beautiful eyes. He slapped the back of his hand against his lips to stop but he couldn't. Your words shook him to his core and every thought in his mind was wiped away.

At some point, he didn't even register you trying to calm him down as he fell to his knees, tears flooding down his face. He didn't even register as he wrapped his arms around you in a near death grip, begging for you to stay.

He loved you, adored you, cherished you, worshipped you basically. So... wherever did you get this idea that you were tying him down? That you were ruining his life? Just where did he end up going wrong for you to have such awful thoughts?

▻ Diluc

Often talking to Diluc was something that was a little touch and go. He didn't talk much and when he did, he usually only talked enough to get the point across and that was it. Even during arguments, Diluc only spoke when he felt it was necessary. To avoid pointless yelling matches, he kept quiet until you were done.

But tonight was... different. Maybe it was a hard day for him, maybe it was something you said, maybe it was that he had a frustrating spat with Kaeya, or maybe that he was dealing with issues at the tavern... but tonight, Diluc was just as angry as you. You two were yelling so much that even the maids heard you outside of the manor. There was no end in sight.

"Then leave, Diluc! Leave me and you can be happy doing whatever you want! I won't be here to tie you down anymore and you can be a free fucking bird!" Diluc opened his mouth to retaliate but nothing came out. It was like the world stopped moving for a second. This uncomfortable pit grew in his stomach and he just knew it was bad. You thought you were tying him down? Never once did such an atrocious thought ever cross his mind. Never during an argument, never during a bad day, not once in his life.

So... why did you? Diluc didn't realize just how much he hated the silence until that moment. He hated it so much, that the tears he attempted to bury just burst out in a loud cry. Anything to stop that deafening silence.

▻ Zhongli

Zhongli was by far, the worst person to argue with. Why? He just sat there silently until you were done. Zhongli didn't argue, no. He waited, listened, then just explained his side. If it didn't work, he'd step away. But even an archon such as himself had limits. Your arguments never turned into screaming matches, at least not on his end, but sometimes they dragged on.

Today was just one such day. Even with his near impeccable memory, the man couldn't recall what happened to lead you two here. You were so upset and angry and no matter what he did, he made it worse. Truth be told, he was angry and frustrated too. It was like neither of you were listening to each other anymore.

"Well, if it's all pointless then why don't we just quit now?! Let's just get a divorce and you can go on happily without a wife to just drag you down!" That's when everything just stopped. Zhongli slowly looked away as he registered the words, feeling his chest begin to constrict.

Why... did you say that? Why would you think that? Was that his fault? You figure began to blur and he fell to his knees, desperately grabbing the dining table for support. You were at his side and tried to calm him down, desperately trying to wipe his tears but anything you said after just... didn't touch him. The awful reality of his life had his heart in a death grip and he could only listen if he got away from it.

#kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin diluc #genshin kaeya #genshin zhongli #🖊─ pocky’s writings #genshin angst #angst

1K notes · View notes

churipu · 3 months

Text

THE MOMENT THEY REALIZE THEY'RE IN LOVE ִ ࣪𖤐

featuring. gojo satoru, sukuna ryomen, itadori yuuji, toji fushiguro x reader

warnings. cursing, college! au, toji being a single father during his second term of uni (i searched that most japanese college uses 2 terms or trimester system / 3 terms, 1 term of uni in japan is around 15 weeks apparently) -> please tell me if i get this wrong.

note. omg, for the anons who have sent in requests to me, i apologize if these came out before your requests did, i'm trying to empty out my drafts :( but pls note that i am not ignoring your requests at all, it will be written, i promise <;33

GOJO SATORU

when he finds himself checking his phone countless of times, waiting for your message

i promise you, you both started out as work partners in one of your lectures. the two of you were complete strangers to each other — he doesn't know you, and you don't know him. but, either way, the two of you had to get to know each other because this was a crucial grade to pass this lecture.

gojo never thought about having feelings towards you, his work partner. he thought to himself, he'd just get this work done, pass this lecture, and never see you again.

but fate is a funny thing.

the way you made him feel like he wasn't just special because of his face, but his heart too. whereas most people in campus would consider him the pretty boy who could go head-to-head with the hottest celebrities — they just think of him as a pretty boy. and gojo would just go along with them, he gets used to it.

but you? you didn't consider him special at all. although, you did make him feel special the way other people can't.

gojo deep down, knows he was fucked up the moment he finds himself checking his phone to see if you'd reply to his messages, and when you do, he gets so happy. gojo was never a fast responder to everyone — because he practically receives the same kind of messages, "gojo hang out with us", "gojo go out with me", "gojo i like you".

but with you? he won't waste a second at all. even if sometimes you didn't reply as fast as he does, because you are a busy person in campus. you'll work on that after you both started dating, i promise.

SUKUNA RYOMEN

when you stood up for him when nobody would.

sukuna, how do i say this? not everyone is fond of him, people are scared of him — they talk shit behind his back, and don't dare to approach him. people dreaded when they have to be in the same group with him, despite the fact that he actually works; they still think he's a bad person.

"you guys are talking shit to a person who's in our group, if you want to say something to him, have the balls to say it to his face. and while he's here, why don't you tell him about it?" you tell the two people who were sitting beside you, who had been talking in whispers about how they were unlucky to be grouped up with sukuna.

and sukuna? he could honestly care less, he'd gotten used to those kind of things anyway. but when you actually stood up for him, he could only look at you with an amused smile.

he's definitely curious about you after that day — he has pride. and he'd never admit that he's actually pretty thankful that you, the first person to stand up for him, actually did what you did. because now people are a little terrified of being told off by you.

sukuna finally sucks it up at the end of the semester and tries to talk to you. yes, it took him the whole semester to talk to you, asking you for your number, and then thanking you for what you did because nobody has ever done that before to him.

ITADORI YUUJI

when you went all out to tutor him so he'd pass his lectures, teaching him patiently when he doesn't understand something.

yuuji hates studying. and when his lecturer asked you to tutor him, he feels extremely bad for you — he feels that he'd just going to waste your time tutoring him, when he knows that he's going to fail this one subject.

but when you reassured him, and encouraged him. saying that you will do anything to teach him so that he could pass, he gets a little emotional at the thought. you both were just mere classmates, and he barely knows you, vice versa.

when he doesn't understand a topic, he gets so frustrated at himself for not being able to understand it. but you, you were very patient with the male, reassuring him that you had the time to teach him over so that he will be able to understand the said topic.

and when he does finally understand, he gets so happy. he started looking forwards to your tutoring sessions, and like everyone said: if you enjoy something, it passes by quickly. and it's true, yuuji feels like time went by in a flash, and the exams soon started.

he passed with flying colors, he makes sure that you know about his grades — and points out that without you, he wouldn't be able to pass. yuuji, gets a little upset when he realizes that if the exams are over, you had no more tutoring sessions with him; which meant no more conversations.

so he has to ask you out right then, he didn't want to just return as mere classmates. he wanted to be more than that.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

when you didn't care about his shitty reputation of being a single father while still being on the second term of uni.

being a single parent is hard enough. not to mention, in university. not married, with a baby itself gets a lot of unwanted (negative) attention — toji, who once failed to get a babysitter on a weekday, and so he had to bring his eight month old son to class.

his son—megumi— was a calm baby, thankfully. the young one didn't cry or babble during lectures, and he just slept through it. toji was a little relieved to say the least, but ever since people find out about him being a single father to an eight month old baby, a lot of assumptions and words have gone around.

toji hated group works, especially when he has to pick the group himself. people didn't want a single father to be in their group, they assumed that the male would focus on his baby and ends up deserting the group work.

so when that particular day where he has to bring megumi to campus, strapped on a baby carrier on his chest. his lecturer just had to give out a partner work, and to add the cherry on top; the lecturer left the class to choose their own partner. so the male sat on his place, a pencil in between his nose and upper lip as he puckered them lightly — hearing his classmates choosing each other.

he figured that he could just do this and get the grade himself, solo. but when you came up and slipped into the seat next to him, he was of course surprised.

you asked him if he would like to partner up with you for this work, and after a few seconds, he accepted your offer.

toji knew it was getting bad when you didn't care about what people say about you getting close to him. just by choosing him for this work made your reputation falter a bit, and he was honestly ready for you to back out of the partner work.

but you didn't, and he knew it's bad for him, his feelings, and his heart.

the way you treated him and megumi like they're both normal (which they are normal humans), and the way you always make him feel included makes his heart race. sometimes, when he fails to look for a babysitter when you both are working for this project, you tell him he didn't have to since megumi is a calm baby.

he finds himself in awe when baby megumi plays with you during both of your little meet ups outside of class to do the project. he's in love.

2K notes · View notes