Tumgik
#but not wanting to put in too much effort
lvndosnorris · 2 days
Note
Ive lately had an obsession like OBSESSION with ribbons so could we have a charles x reader where they fuck and the reader has a ribbon tied on her wrists (+overstimulation)
~💌
Tumblr media
palms were sticky as you felt the red material tightened around your wrists, arms bound above your head as you intently studied the features of your boyfriend as he leant over you. you wanted nothing more than to push your head up in hopes you could catch his lips but you knew that your efforts would be met with a snarky remark about rushing and you'd more than likely be left with nothing.
"you know what to say if it's too much?" charles' tone was hard for you to decipher — sweet yet laced with so much authority. thighs clamped together you squeezed in search of some sort of friction, the burn between your legs becoming too hard to ignore as you hummed in response. trailing down your forearm he gripped your bicep, dull fingernails pinching your flesh as he ducked his mouth to ghost yours, "need you to use your words, mon ange."
only once you'd replied to him with a firm yes did he kiss you — teeth clashing against yours as he grazed your tongue with his, a small groan vibrating in the back of his throat as you compliantly swallowed it. it was a hard kiss, one that made your lips tingle as he tucked your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling the flesh a little as it made a satisfactory pop. the look in his eyes spoke the words that neither of you could conjure, your hands tugging slightly as you remembered the silk ribbon that clasped them together.
"please charles—" your pleads soon stopped as he pried your thighs apart with his leg, cool air hitting your warmth with a small gasp escaping your lips. your hazed mind almost forgot how you'd gotten into this position, charles' fingers reminding you of the teasing during the evening's events as he left your skin cold to undo his own belt. there was a part of you that dared to ask him to put the belt to good use, yet your confidence soon swindled as he kicked off the remainder of his clothes — doe-like eyes watched the way his skin danced under the soft amber hue of the bedroom lamp, casting the most beautiful shadows over every curve and crevice of your bodies.
your cunt had already been stretched to accommodate him, the remnants of your previous orgasm still coating his pointer and middle finger. you'd begged to lick them clean, desperate for him to praise you and call you his good girl — yet he denied you, a click of his teeth followed by a shush as he'd bound your hands. your previous orgasm was still lurking in your limbs, chest heaving at the way you'd lost your breath and your ability to speak coherently. you were a sight to behold, one that charles wanted to freeze and keep in his memory forever.
charles' pants were shallow as he wrapped a hand around the base of his shaft, eyes connected to the wetness that coated your inner thighs as he pumped himself a few times. rolling his wrist in a way that made him buck into his own touch, eyebrows furrowed as he mentally argued with himself over whether he should tease you a little further, or give you what you so badly wanted. with his thumb rubbing over his tip he smeared the pre-cum, glistening the upper part of his length as he hissed, jaw tight.
all you wanted to do was coax his head into the crook of your neck, desperate to have him as close as possible as you finally felt him there. the bluntness of his tip nudged your clit, the sensation toe-curling as you fought the urge to fold in half. it was a good type of soreness, the one you were familiar with whenever you and charles' got intimate — yet the bubble in your stomach felt different as he lined himself up with you. your pupils intensely sought his as he started to push his hips towards yours, one hand fisting the sheets beneath you as the other snaked just below your chest.
you sucked him in to the point of it being hard for him to thrust any deeper, his head tilted as he watched how you convulsed around him. it was obvious you were still reeling from cumming around his fingers, his mouth curled into a deviant smile as swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, "gotta' relax for me chérie, making it hard for me to fit"
a choked sob tumbled from your lips, one that caught your boyfriends attention as he leant down to brush his lips over your forehead. your words were jumbled as you begged for him to let you touch him properly, the need to have your nails dug into his back evident as you pinched your own palms. you felt helpless, a moan suppressed as he bottomed out of you. his thrusts were slow, torturous, each one feeling deeper than the other as your eyes shut out of bliss.
charles' teeth grazed your throat, peppering your sweat-lined flesh with open-mouthed kisses. with each nip his tongue followed, flat against the sensitive bite-mark as he soothed it; the constant drag of his cock sending your mind into oblivion. he cursed about how tight you were, how you were made just for him — but you found it hard to comprehend, your wrists aching from where you'd pulled and pushed in an attempt to loosen the ribbon just enough for you to slip out of your confinements.
tears welled in your waterline, threatening to spill and stain your cheeks as he quickened his pace. it was relentless, the sweet spot inside of you grazed and stroked by the tip of his cock as he grunted against the valley of your tits. there was no way for you to wriggle free, charles' body sprawled on top of yours as he pinched your outer thigh, hiking it a little further up his waist as he searched for the angle that would tip you over the edge. for the second time.
"i'm gonna— fuck—" was all you managed to choke out, body relishing in the pleasure that surged through you. your veins electric as he stared up at you, his lips parted against the underside of your boob. in that moment he looked at you as if you'd hung every star in the sky, a masterpiece that was unwinding below him as he brought you right to fringe of ecstasy.
"that's it, just like that baby..." he drawled, unable to think straight as your gummy walls clenched around him. he knew your body like the back of his hand, your second climax on the horizon as he fucked into you with more force. face buried in the crook of your arm your moans were silent, throat hoarse as you let the tears spill, the overstimulation driving you to insanity as you felt the knot inside of you snap.
white-noise rung out in your ears as you came around charles', a profanity whimpered by your boyfriend as he felt your body shake. it was a push and pull motion; his thrusts sloppier as he helped you ride through your orgasm, milking you of everything you had to give as you felt your mouth run dry. it didn't take long before he followed, knees harsh on the mattress as he stilled inside of you — his seed warm as it dribbled out of you, his groans muffled as he buried his head in your chest.
"please—" you begging finished mid-sentence, every last ounce of his strength used to lift and undo the ribbon that had rubbed your wrists raw. every part of you felt limp as he guided your arms down, a thumb smoothing over your skin as he brought them to his lips, mumbling a quiet "did s'good for me baby... so good".
396 notes · View notes
skyenish · 2 days
Text
| Vil Schoenheit analysis and animatic: my interpretation on Vil’s character and overblot 👑 |
———
(I haven’t read the newest book 7 chapters yet since I play on EN)
I’ve always interpreted Vil’s story as one of validation. He may be confident, he knows his worth, and yet he can’t give himself the validation he wants/needs. Hes got tenacity and believes in working hard to be his perfect self, which is admirable, but one must wonder how much of that ‘perfect self’ is influenced by others. What really is ‘the fairest of them all’? He works so hard to achieve what he thinks it is, and even after all that hard work he’s still second best to Neige.
Vil isn’t dumb, he knows his worth, he knows that Neige works hard too, and yet it stings. Do others dont appreciate how much effort you put in? He chases validation and because of that can’t truly love himself, which is exactly what Rook meant with what he said to Vil after book 5’s ending, something how about when Vil is old and wrinkly, as long as he truly believes he’s the fairest of them all, he is.
When Vil tried to cheat, tried to poison Neige, his whole world collapsed. His overblot was a very internal issue, unlike the other Overblotters, because he wasn’t being tenacious, he took a shortcut, which he famously doesn’t like. He’s the monster he thinks others think he is, partly because of his typecasting and the bullying he endured when he was younger. He let other people affect him so much, it’s a huge part of his overblot.
This is just my interpertation of course, but I barely see anyone talk about Vil’s character and OB besides his surface level jealousy towards Neige, and I think we should talk more about him. He is already trying, working so hard, but it’ll never be enough for him for as long as he isn’t happy with it himself. His perfection is toxic. Its admirable how hard he works, and he’s an incredibly smart, talented and even confident person, but his desire for perfection, for validation, would’ve destroyed him. There’s a reason he overblotted, and its not just because ‘waaah waaah I always get typecasted as the villain and mu rival is gonna win a competition 🥺🥺’, its so, SO much more!
I want more discussions about Vil because he has so much more depth than people give him credit for. He teaches us the important lesson of loving yourself, though he’s not very good at it himself yet! I’m sorry if this analysis is all over the place, I just wanted to ramble, and I just so happened to have made a sort of corresponding animatic!
Uhh that was my ted talk about Vil. Falls of stage and breaks my neck
206 notes · View notes
pinkyqil · 1 day
Text
Flirt // Jenni hermoso x r
Tumblr media
Jenni was a flirt least to say she could flit with anyone as long has it as lips head and a body anything else wouldn't matter to her. So that why you felt really confused with your "relationship". with her cause she always gave you mixed signals that rarely made any sense to you.
One day she's all over you complimenting you, making you blush and all as it the usual Jenni package. next thing you know someone else is getting the same treatment that she gives or how she likes to call it "her delicate taste".
That made absolutely no sense to you but one thing you knew was that you were done. with anything that had to do with Jennifer hermoso you didn't want a part of it unless it was something serious. But it didn't look like it things where going to change with her so you thought.
You started pulling away from jenni it went from you two always partnering up to you straight up ignoring her and picking someone else as your partner.
To dismissing her and canceling plans that she made cause you knew it would be some different by tomorrow.
Slowly a hole formed in your friendship you both couldn't even spare each other a glance or a simple greeting.
The only time you would actually say a few words would be around game days where you needed to communicate with jenni but that wasn't something you both could do outside of work.
It honestly broke your heart to be pulling away from her like this. You missed her smile silly jokes that she would make trying to lighting up the room.how she would be there whenever you needed something or that you weren't feeling well she was always by your side like your order half.
Least to say jenni also felt the same way her heart felt incomplete like the other pieces to it was missing. but she knew one thing and it was to make it up too you for whatever she did cause her heart couldn't take you acting like she didn't exist.
The last few days you noticed Jenni putting in some efforts but you would always denie her and.
still continue shutting her out she tried everything from leaving notes and your favorites chocolate in your cubby opening the door for you. helping you carry heavy equipment without calling out for help but you wouldn't come forward.
It wasn't that you heated what jenni was doing you loved it all but your heart wasn't ready for what would happen if you guys where to talk it out.
Would things go back to the same way with how she was treating you or would you two become something. Was what you wondered.
Jenni's act had been going on forever but still she didn't get any improvement from you side always the cold shoulder and nothing more for her.
Today she jenni had planned to conner you when everybody as left as she knew you loved taking your time.
Your day went on with how it usual was Jenni still left you some notes and perfume in your cubby for when you arrived but you hadn't seen her anyway around the training grounds which was quite weird as she hung out with her group of people. But needless it was none of your busses.
You were tye last one to shower as everyone else had left or that what you think.you quickly dressed up and started existing the building until you felt a strange but familiar hands grab you by the waist.
It was none other than jenni she looked broken and hurt. All you could do was stare at her.
"What do you want hermoso". you asked her as you tried pulling your hands away.
" I just want to talk to you it would only take a few minutes". She said
"Well get talking cause I didn't have enough time to spend with you in my way".
She took a deep breath before speaking.
"I know that lately have been giving you on and off signals and just acting out as if you aren't important to me which is false so I just wanted' to tell you that I love you so much more than a friend we've both been through anything".
anyone can imagine and I just can't keep living like this knowing that j hurt you instead of protecting you so I just wan to apologize for that". She said as she took time to catch her breath.
"oh jenni you don't understand how long I waited for you to tell me how you feel cause I' also share the same feelings as you, I love you more than anything else that you can imagine"
and it hurt me a lot seeing how you would always treat me I love you jenni hermoso". You told her not expecting all that to come out of your mouth.
"So will I be able to treat you out to a date". She asked
"Yes you can have honestly seen the way that you've improved and I love it". you told her before tip-toeing and leaving a peck on her lips.
"You deserve it". You said
"I guess I do". She replied back
"So I'll see you saturday for dinner". She asked
"Definitely". You told as you walked away holding the notes that she had been living for you onto your chest.
Maybe luck was on your side after all and jenni wasn't just a flit after all.
A/n: hope y'all enjoy this read and if you see any mistakes no you don't cause I just finished writing this at 12:18 so mistakes shall be fixed later. anyway feedbacks, request and comments or if you want to chat with me inboxes are always opened and everything else is appreciated and don't forget to take care of yourself 💗
208 notes · View notes
drdemonprince · 2 days
Text
i was on NPR talking about Autism shit two weeks ago, and i have the book sales figures from that week and that national media appearance had.... absolutely zero relationship to sales. on the typical week these days, 1,400 to 1,500 copies of Unmasking Autism will sell. The week that I was on NPR there was a slight dip; only about 1,300 books were sold.
i have done a lot of press for my books. For Laziness Does Not Exist I did easily a 100 damn podcasts and radio shows and newspapers and excerpts in magazines. none of it corresponded to a noticeable bump in sales. the biggest "get" my publicist found for my latest book was the Glennon Doyle show, a booking she and her team celebrated and then spent months clamboring excitedly for... it, too, had no obvious relationship to sales.
Unmasking Autism became a bestseller because some other guy made a tiktok about it, and then a bunch of tiktokkers made videos about it too. all on their own. without any prodding from me, or any relationship to me. it was completely organic, passionate, and sincere, and rooted in the book's true merits and usefulness to other people, and that's why it inspired lots of sales. and continues to more than a year and a half later. all the press I did for Unmasking Autism prior to the release of that tiktok did relatively far less. NPR, Goop, the LA Times, Lit Hub, Jacobin, Huffpo, the New York Times, the Financial Times, MSNBC, Business Insider. Didn't matter. at least not much. so why do i bother?
publishers really ride your ass trying to make you give lots of interviews and show up for lots of events but it's all based on the worship of traditional media and magical thinking that it will somehow convert listeners into buyers. and that's just not how it works. the truth is 95% of books never sell more than 5,000 copies, and most people don't buy books or read them. i love reading but i dont think this is itself some terrible loss, as most books are padded-out commodities made for sale more than a work of true artistic passion or scholarly merit, and sometimes listening to a 90 minute interview with an author tells you the bulk of what you need to know.
it's freeing to know that the effort i put into getting my books out into the world have almost zero relationship to the books' success. marketing just does not work. it's a relief. unmasking autism did fabulously because it's actually both good and useful. laziness has had a long life span because it speaks to real problems in people's lives and gives them a message they are desperate to hear. but no amount of thirsty ass online shilling will make somebody realize that and it's maddening to try. you just gotta focus on doing good work, work that you enjoy making or need to make and that you feel good about, let things flop if theyre gonna flop, and keep on living your life.
which is all good news because i really do hate a lot of these fucking interviews. how can i stomach being on npr or in the atlantic or whatever these days given how complicit nearly all major media outlets are in justifying this genocide. like who fuckin cares about them, who wants their approval. who needs it. it's of no value
163 notes · View notes
leqonsluv3r · 2 days
Note
hi! i love your writing sm so i wanted to ask you if you could do a short fic about leon’s first day at the rpd and reader is a detective or someone who works at the rpd and they become friends or something else <3
just the thought of leon being silly and shy about the little party they made just for him to say “welcome” makes my heart skip a beat……..
anyways have a good day! <33
so high school
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
—leon joins the police department and you just know that he’s going to be everything to you, a blurb
masterlist taglist
an: i hope this is what you had in mind <33 i left it open ended at the ending for your guys imagination. thank you guys again for 900, i love you all. sorry it’s taking me so long to get out all my requests. they’re open again in my bio. pls reblog, comment and interact to support your writers.
Tumblr media
the first thing you thought of when you saw leon was how he was too cute to be a cop. that was your first thought, your second was how is this man single.
you didn’t know he was single at first, but for his entry papers, it didn’t say anything about a spouse or an emergency contact girlfriend. which made you very, very happy.
he was a sweetheart, he left a lasting impression on you and you didn’t know how to handle it. helping you carry files to the file room and taking desk duty in stride.
he was humble, sweet and outgoing.
you didn’t really see any faults in him, not at all. most guys you did date in the past, you could see the red flags from a mile away. like a big ugly tattoo on their forehead that just said: STAY AWAY! IM TERRIBLE!
but with leon, it wasn’t like that.
he didn’t ever say anything negative about anyone, he didn’t mention hating being on desk duty. he just simply lived and did his job, same as you. it made you feel lighter being around him. especially getting to know him, getting an idea of him.
you liked him a lot.
you realized that when you agreed to host his welcome party two weeks after he had been hired, most entry coordinators didn’t want too. but you practically jumped at the opportunity to give him his dream welcome party into the unit.
Tumblr media
you planned it all out, you went a little overboard. which wasn’t always a bad thing but in this case…it was extreme.
you never did this for any of the other rookies welcome parties you helped organized, you never went this far. blue and yellow balloons, a large chocolate cake, a big banner that you custom designed. all made for leon and based on his tastes over the last two weeks you’d known him.
but when he arrives, a surprise, he sees all the effort. he sees all the decorations and he sees you. he never had felt so welcome in his entire life.
his mom never even put this much effort into his birthday party’s when he was a kid. so his surprise wasn’t fake, it was real and it was written all over his face as he scanned his room of coworkers leading all the way to you.
you, you were so welcoming. so goddamn magnificent that it made his head spin, you got him everything he wanted right down to a T. all the decorations, the cake…the banner.
it was everything.
you were everything, he’d had a crush on you the first day he started. the first day he saw you and you swiped him up into your world. he felt like he was on a different planet half the time when he was with you.
he had to tell you, he owed it to you.
after all, you did throw him an amazing welcome party.
Tumblr media
he made his way to you half-way through the party. you were just so gorgeous and he liked you so much, god. you were so…he couldn’t even put words to it.
if he had to pick a dream girl, it would be you.
and he didn’t even realize he had those standards until you came into his life, making it turn from a dull throbbing gray to a beautiful multicolored world. one that used to be so drab for him but now…
now it gave him purpose.
and if you rejected him, at least he got to say he tried. got to say that he attempted to reach your heart, your mind…just you.
he might look like an idiot if you said no, but at least he was attempting. he was trying to make that attempt to confess and not be a coward in front of people like he usually was.
“you did this all for me? i knew you were up to something.” he says with a small smirk on his face when he approaches you. his blue eyes scanning you with nothing but appreciation. something that made butterflies flutter in your belly.
you shrugged innocently, your face heating up into flames. “i just wanted to give you a good welcome. you deserved it, especially when you got saddled with desk duty.” you crack a smile up at him, your eyes never leaving his.
“i don’t mind desk duty. my view is pretty great.” he says with a subtle teasing smirk as he looks down at you, you knew that his desk was a few over from his and he could look directly at you. you bite on your bottom lip and your cheeks flush a deeper scarlet.
you look up at him, “i’m glad you like it,” you gesture to the party around you. all your coworkers talking and the decorations. “i worked hard…i just wanted you to feel welcome.”
he smiles widely, dimples and all. “it worked, i feel welcome. you’ve made me feel welcome.” he feels himself admitting as his blue sparkling eyes rove over you.
you feel your body become hot beneath your pencil skirt and blouse, “uhm, i-i yeah, well…” you try to say but fail miserably, gnawing on your bottom lip.
“anyways,” he saved you with a small smile, tilting his head down to look into your eyes. “i was thinking that maybe we could…uhm, go out sometime?” he managed to get out. he felt like it was hot in here, like his uniform was strangling him.
your heart was beating out of your chest, you blinked up at him. you almost felt like you could pinch yourself because this couldn’t be real. he couldn’t be asking her out, he couldn’t like you like you liked him.
“uhm, me…me? you mean me right?” you swallow, your mouth suddenly dry despite the punch you were holding in your hand. he smiles beautifully at you, showcasing his cute cheeks and his straight teeth, “yeah, i was talking to you. unless you see any other beautiful office managers around here?” he says with a small scan of his blue eyes over your frame.
you felt like you were about to melt into a puddle on the floor. his words and his eyes, dear god.
you straighten your spine, “i’d…i’d love too.” you manage to get out with a small gnaw on her bottom lip to hold back the smile threatening to beam on her face.
he feels relief flood over him, the amount of it was overwhelming. you had no idea how much he needed to hear those words from your lips. to hear you say that you wanted to go out with him.
“that’s-thats cool, yeah. i’m…i’ve been wanting to ask you that for a while.” he admits with a small quirk of his lips, feeling the nerves frazzle out of his body and short circuit his brain.
you can’t help the smile and blush that coats your cheeks, to feel the liking that was reciprocated by him. even after throwing him this party, it was still nice to know where you stood with him.
but you knew now.
“me too.” you blush as you keep your eyes on him, the party continued around them but they stayed deep in their conversation. like it would pain either of them to tear the attention away from each-other for five seconds.
“i’ve wanted…to ask you out, but ive been too nervous. i didn’t know how you would react.” you say softly as you sip on your drink, trying to find something else to focus on besides the red on your cheeks and the thrumming of your heart.
he smiles gently, “your too pretty to be nervous. but i would’ve said yes.” he says with a small wink in her direction, he had no idea where this confidence was coming from but he was glad he found it in this moment.
you look down at your punch in your hands, trying to will your heart to relax for five seconds. you were going to go out on a date with him. you were talking to him. he liked his welcome party…he was flirting with you.
it was safe to say you had him.
and he had you.
“i can’t wait for our date.” you say softly, looking up in his direction. your eyes gleaming a little as you stared at him, with something bordering on fascination and excitement.
he grins sheepishly and looks down at you, taking a small step closer. “me either. your gonna look so beautiful. your always beautiful but…i bet you look even better out of work clothes.” he says with a small gesture of his blue eyes up and down your frame.
you tuck some of your hair behind your ear, “thank you.” you breathe out some air, trying to calm the nerves and the erratic beating out of your chest at his compliment, his eyes. just everything about him.
it made you feel like you were a giddy high schooler with a crush. like you were back in school and you were talking to a guy you were so enamored with, it just made sense with leon. you were so comfortable around him but your feelings made you feel like a frazzled teenager.
like you were back where you once were, it was exciting.
you knew he was the one, even if you hadn’t had the first date yet. you just had a gut feeling.
and your gut was always right.
Tumblr media
taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @argreion @sqiim @adollrable @leonkennedygvrl @cherubify @porcelainseashore @squazmine (if you wanna be added interact with the link at the beginning <33)
Tumblr media
118 notes · View notes
dottedsilktie · 1 day
Text
Spring cleaning 2 - Clean up your mess
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You couldn’t be happier that spring cleaning was coming to an end, your reward now at arm’s length. Unfortunately for you, Kento wants to torment for a little longer and not just with household chores. cw : +18, detailed smut (face sitting, edging, unprotected sex, squirting) please MDNI ; part 1 here
Tumblr media
For the first year of living together with Kento, you can proudly say spring cleaning was a resounding success. Who knew the only incentive you needed to fully cooperate was the promise of being thoroughly cared for by your dear husband. 
Even Kento was taken aback by your eagerness, slightly amused by your boisterous shrub trimming in the early morning hours. He watched you fondly as you waved at him from the yard, all smiles and mussed hair, with comically large gardening scissors in your hands. Although your pruning left much to be desired, your effort seemed genuine and Kento took it as a chance to soak in the delightful sight of your bent form whenever you’d vigorously attack dead growth. The delicious curve of your arched back and your zeal were enticing enough for Kento to overlook your mediocre performance, then remedy it himself.
He spent the day quietly checking on you, always pleasantly surprised to find you wholly focused on whatever task you threw yourself into. The highlight of his day was probably seeing your exuberant strut up and down the corridor leading from your bedroom to the laundry room, accentuating the sway of your hips and the rhythmic pitter patter of your bare feet against the wooden floors whenever you sensed him coming closer, huffing and puffing about the “gargantuan” amount of laundry you were putting away. Kento came to find that, by gargantuan, you meant barely enough for two rounds of laundry as you only took a handful of clothes from your hamper to the washing machine at a time, more focused on putting on a show for him than actually getting anything done but it didn’t matter. Nothing really matters when Kento gets to see you so joyful, mischief only adding to your childlike charm, and he knew he was growing entirely too soft even though he’d promised to be implacable with you. 
Kento had steeled himself in not giving into your pleading or puppy eyes or less orthodox, more daring negotiation - or really, extortion - methods and strangely, you didn’t even subject him to any of it. So he fared well, starting strong when he’d easily outsmarted you, having you at his beck and call for the whole day and Kento rode the heady high of an easy victory for once. He could really get used to finally being listened to without protest.  
By the end of the day, you were brimming with energy, both from the prospect of getting your reward and the pride of a job well done.
Sitting on the living room carpet, you admire your handiwork and smile proudly at how the neat piles of Kento’s and your own folded clothes completely cover the white woollen rug, eager to stun him with the results of your honest work and get the praise you craved.
You skip happily towards the kitchen in search of him, head peeking in just enough to get a good look at Kento prepping for dinner, and stalling for a moment to take in the sight of the muscular ridges of his back under his tight shirt. Slowly, you creep towards him, light-footed and conspiratorial, fully intending to scare him but you only manage to get two footsteps in before he pipes up, tone light and knowing, “Did you need something, darling ?”; 
You audibly huff, evidently disgruntled to have been found out so easily, plodding along the rest of the way, nose wrinkled and eyes narrowed at him as you hoist yourself up on the countertop by his side. “You’re no fun, I wanted to surprise you”, you mumble, lightly punching his arm to get his attention. He merely hums and smiles, gaze not straying from the courgettes he julienned with impressive precision. Kento only turns to face you once he is done, and when he catches you staring at his hands with lidded eyes, he’s barely able to contain his snicker at how easy you’ll be to toy with.
“Your idea of surprising me is scaring me, not sure you’re any fun either”, he starts and you shrug innocently. “Besides, it’s hard to miss you ; I could smell you before I could even hear you, honey”. He extends a large palm to smooth your hair out and pull out a small twig still stuck in your ponytail, waving it around in your face. You remain unfazed, pushing your chest out proudly and retorting, “I smell like hard work”. He laughs and corrects, trailing off, “You smell like plumeria, and..”
He moves closer, hands on your knees to part them gently and stand between your legs. Kento’s feline gaze locks on yours, his usually cool amber irises set ablaze in the dying light of the sunset. One hand leaves your bare knee to cup your jaw and tilt your head back, and Kento’s scrutinising eyes make you squirm.  You are suddenly very aware of how you must look in this light, a day’s worth of grunt work leaving you sweaty and unkempt. Kento doesn’t seem to mind though as he ducks his head lower to brush the bridge of his sharp nose along your jaw, then even lower to the column of your throat. He inhales deeply, every little breath he takes against your skin magnified tenfold from how much you want him.
You hadn’t expected your reward to come so soon but you have no complaints about Kento’s generous mood, so you close your eyes and let his hand cradle the back of your head. He takes his time making his way up to your face, the soft pecks he lavished on your collarbones and neck turning hungry when he reaches just below your ear, licking a long stripe and nibbling on your earlobe. By then you are a goner, your little breathy whimpers of pleasure filling the otherwise silent kitchen. You only open your eyes when you feel him pulling away, brows furrowed once you notice his wry smile. What’s so funny ? you want to ask but he beats you to it, the hand at your nape retreating to show a bright crimson petal stuck in your hair.
“Plumeria and bougainvillaea”, he declares with a self-satisfied, lopsided smirk. You stare at him, mouth aghast. “Ken, what the fu –”, you start but he silences you with an open-mouthed kiss, the faintest brush of his tongue against yours easily lowering your defences again.   “You smell divine, hard work really suits you.”
You don’t know how to respond, you’re not used to being denied or teased like this. Kento can see the cogs turning in your lust-addled mind, confusion clear as day in your disappointed little moue.  “What did you want to tell me ?”, he interrupts your unspoken musings. You blink your confusion away, sniffling before answering, “The laundry…I wanted to show you, I did it and folded it, and –” He hums along, listening to you talk about folding laundry like you’ve just done the unthinkable. In a sense, you really have. Kento can’t remember a time when you had to do it since you’ve lived together ;  the burden of virtually every household chore always befell him. He loves taking care of you, so even the most menial and mundane tasks were softened in the glow of his affection for you. He just thought he could claim a little reward for all his efforts, even if it meant retribution on your end.
He does an impeccable job at maintaining an apathetic façacade as he lets you drag him from the kitchen to the living room, his resolve unwavering even when he notices how the enthusiastic bounce of your step is reduced to the uncertain drag of your feet.
“Well ?”, you try with a meek little smile, hopeful eyes fleeting between Kento’s impassive expression and the neat piles you spent your afternoon sorting. “Well ? I thought you would’ve put them back in our dresser by now”, Kento deadpans. Your smile immediately falters and he can see disappointment slowly morphing in frustration. It shouldn’t affect him the way it does, but he rarely gets to see you like this - so eager to please and so afflicted by his denying you. He feels himself twitch in his trousers as your hands ball into fists and your rosy lips jut out in clear discontent, your pout alone enough to tug at his restraint. Too engrossed in your fuming, you don’t notice the pleasure he takes in tormenting you and he uses your confusion to make a quick exit, vaguely telling you to “clean your mess” and get ready for dinner. 
Kento is amazed by how well-behaved you are, actually doing what you’re told even when he leaves you to your own devices, your promised reward undoubtedly thawing at your irritation. He watches you curiously as you move in a daze, putting the laundry away then slipping quietly in the shower, not even daring to invite him in with you. 
The billowing steam curtains a lone body instead of two, but you don’t dwell on it. Instead, you focus on washing away the remnant of hard work and letting the scalding stream of water soothe your nerves. As you step out of the shower, you think you are ready to brave Kento’s uncharacteristically cold demeanour.  Unfortunately for you, dinner is barely more fruitful, and the lauding you expected never comes. Kento is laconic at best, the insipidity of the conversation seeping into what was supposed to be a delicious meal, and there is no mention of what he has planned afterwards. You reason that he might’ve forgotten or maybe that he’s tired, too. 
He’s never like this but you reckon slaving away doing house chores can’t be ideal, even for someone like Kento who gets off on scrubbing away at coffee stains. It’s fine, you’ll just have to remind him and claim your reward. 
You do your best to quell the tremors of apprehension thrumming through you, waiting patiently for Kento to join you. He arrives moments later in all his after shower glory, sandy blond hair still damp and clinging to his forehead. Clad in nothing but low-hanging chequered sleeping pants that’d look awful on anyone but him , Kento has never looked better. Your mouth goes dry at the sight of crystalline droplets travelling the length of his torso down to his navel, and lower to catch on the hint of golden hair peeking out from the dangerously low hem of his pants. Kento can feel you staring and it takes everything in him to not mirror your hunger with his own, the glimpse he caught of your silk camisole and flimsy little shorts already enough to fan the coals of his lust. Instead, he quietly slips into his side of the bed, his back to you. The disbelieving scoff you let out is music to his ears. He feels you shuffle closer to him on your knees, poking his shoulder insistently as you simper, “Babe, I think you forgot something”. He sits up slowly, blinking at you before planting a chaste kiss on your forehead and mumbling a ‘good night’. You loop an arm around his bicep before he can even fall back on the mattress, forcing him to stay upright. “Not that, I meant what you promised this morning”, you try again, pressing your chest into his arm and resting your face against his shoulder. “What did I promise ?”, Kento inquires, blond brows arched in confusion.
“You know, you said you’d help me with the thing."
“What thing ? You’re going to have to be more specific honey, I’m very forgetful”, Kento taunts, scratching the back of his head in faux thoughtfulness. You scoff again, this time more irritated than incredulous, but you don’t relent. You rub your face against his shoulder affectionately, grasping at his hand and not so subtly pushing your chest out harder against his arm to drive your point across.
“This morning, when I told you about those hum, aches, you said you would -”, you stop suddenly, meek and bashful like you’re not rubbing your breasts against the corded muscles of his bare arm, nipples already hardening under the thin silk of your top that does nothing to conceal your growing arousal.  “I’d what ?” You can’t even answer, groaning into his bare chest to hide your fluster. Instead you try to show him, taking one large hand and guiding it to your face, kissing his palm and nuzzling into it, offering him a little smile that’d be demure if Kento didn’t know better. You peer up at him only to meet a hard, unimpressed gaze that suggests you’re going to have to try harder. “You promised, you said that if I was good you’d take care of me”, you huff out, dropping the meek act altogether as you sit back on your haunches, mulishness and petulance taking over. His laughter rumbles deep from within his belly and cuts through the leaden silence of your room. Somehow, it sounds foreign and mirthless coming from Kento. It makes you shiver, something halfway between apprehension and lust stirs deep in your loins. “Do you even hear yourself ? All I do is take care of you, darling”, he admonishes.  You shrink in on yourself, feigned meekness quickly turning into genuine timidity. You try to come up with an acceptable retort, but the prospect of being denied any longer fuels you with a sense of urgency that makes you snap. “I know, of course, I just mean…This is different, you promised and I was really, really good so you have to make good on your word, too !”
Kento’s expression quickly turns dour as he crosses his imposing arms over the chiselled expanse of his chest, reminding you that you are in no position to demand anything. Despite your less than ideal predicament,  you can’t help but stare. He’s so close, at arm’s length really, but you have a sneaking suspicion that if you were to try and touch him, it’d be his ire and not his desire you’d stroke. So you behave.
For the umpteenth time today, you keep your hands to yourself and your mouth shut. The longing in your eyes betrays everything you try to reel back in anyway. Kento knows that look. He’s grown familiar with the slight furrow of your brows and the way your doe eyes narrow in a wistful gaze where you somehow skilfully blend unrestrained pining and shyness: the ‘fuck me’ eyes that have his cock stiffening to life alarmingly quickly in his sleeping pants. At this rate, he won’t be able to keep his little game going for much longer.
“I suppose you have been pretty good”, Kento starts, a single finger drumming against his sculpted bicep. You nod eagerly, mouthing an enthusiastic ‘yes, yes’. He hums, seemingly deep in thought. Mindlessly, you slither closer to him, taking his silence as an invitation. He lets you run a tentative hand up his arm. Emboldened, your touch grows more insistent and your fingertips press into him to savour the sinewy muscle shifting beneath his warm skin. Your eyes seek his again, your pleading gaze chipping away at his austere exterior. “Please”, you try again, tone nothing short of beseeching. A flicker of warmth flashes in Kento’s stony eyes. He relents, but not how you’d expect him to, because he’s gently disentangling himself from you, fluffing his pillow and lying down. You look at him curiously, head tilted to the side and brows furrowed. “You deserve your reward. So take it.”
He vaguely motions to his face, lips stretched in a sardonic smile. Your mouth falls open and your cheeks bloom in different shades of red - shame, lust, unbridled curiosity. “I-I…We’ve never…” you stutter, suddenly shy and unsure. Kento rubs at the bridge of his nose and sighs in feigned exasperation. “I thought you’d be more eager, it’s too bad to see you don’t actually want it”. Lust supersedes any second-guessing and you’re quickly pushing him down when he tries to sit back up. Kento smiles lazily at you once more, making a show of settling comfortably back down. 
“Strip”, he whispers, terse but warmer than before. You quickly comply, trembling hands pulling your camisole off and tugging your shorts down. When you move to peel your underwear off, Kento puts a hand over yours, eyes zeroed in on the growing wet patch between your legs, a silent plea for you to leave it on. You somehow feel more exposed this way, the flimsy material betraying your arousal as it dampens further and sticks to your puffy folds.  Kento beckons you closer, hands on your thighs as he guides you to straddle his abdomen, running his lidded eyes over your mostly naked form. He knows he’s being selfish when he denies you and pulls at the already taut string of your patience, but he wants to commit the sight of your desperation to memory. You’re so beautiful when you’re needy, with your cheeks flushed - not from shyness, anticipation has long taken over - and your soft skin bared just for him. 
Just for me, Kento thinks as he pulls you toward his face, heart leaping out of his chest and cock leaking in his pants when your clothed cunt is just above his face. He traces the curve of your thighs then presses in the dip of your hips, any pretence of remaining soft long forgotten. His once conversational touch now covets ; his clever fingers sink in a sensitive spot until you shiver above him before they move to the next, goosebumps budding in their wake. 
You’re still not close enough though and Kento brings you dizzyingly closer to his awaiting mouth, feeling the heat of your core against his face and getting high off your scent. You truly smell divine and look even better, and he can’t help but crane his neck to lick a tentative stripe from your clothed entrance to your thrumming clit, swallowing back a groan of pleasure at the faint hint of sweetness and slick catching on his tongue.You go rigid above him, the lithe muscles bracketing his head taut from the effort of keeping yourself up, timidity undoubtedly adding to the painful strain on your legs. 
Kento is patient in his exploration of your body, he works at your reserve with small kisses trailing from your inner thighs to your covered clit, whetting his appetite on your airy whimpers and gasps. The phantom brush of his lips against your heated flesh is reverent, barely there but already enough to make you clench around nothing. “Kento, please – I need you”, you whine, trying to press yourself into his face but your feeble attempts are easily contained by his large hands. Kentot’s thumbs dig into your hip bones and his long fingers are outstretched to press into your lower back. “What do you need ? Tell me, honey”, Kento whispers right into your skin, voice hoarse with desire. He’s never made you ask for anything, so discerning and attuned to your needs that he senses and caters to them unprompted. It’s not surprising that voicing your needs has you whimpering from frustration above him. Still, you are nothing if not malleable, Kento’s soft kisses and honeyed voice lulling you into obedience. You let your head drop to look at him between your legs, misty eyes transfixed on Kento’s heavy-lidded gaze, your lips quivering. “I need you to touch me more, please Ken, you know what I want.”
Of course he knows. Kento always knows what you need and how to give it to you. Above all, Kento knows you don’t beg and he almost feels bad for tormenting you but your slick-covered panties tell him the helplessness you feel only heightens your arousal. Finally, he pulls your underwear to the side, baring you to his hungry eyes. You’re so pretty, little hole clenching and clit throbbing right over his mouth. The visual combined with your breathy whimpers has his cock so stiff it borders on painful. “I know, my love, I know." He soothes you when your whines get louder with delicate kisses to your puffy folds. It’s so good, soft and reverent but not nearly enough. You whimper, fighting against his bruising hold. “Kento –” “My pretty girl wants to cum”, he croons, now kissing right under your clit, shutting you up. “Isn’t that right ? You want to cum all over my face, with my tongue deep in your needy little cunt”. Kento doesn’t expect an answer, already pushing his tongue into your fluttering, finally tasting you - you taste heavenly and feel even better, clenching around him to keep his tongue inside your slick pussy. You cry out above him, babbling about how good it feels already and pleading for more. He looks up at your face to catch how it contorts in pleasure, your jaw dropping in a soft whine when he pulls out of you. “Above all, you want to be a good girl for me, right ?” His voice is taunting, you know he’s testing you but your devotion is boundless and you’re nodding frantically. “Yes, yes – that’s all I want, I want to be your good girl." Kento smiles and rewards you with a kiss to your clit. “Then hold yourself open for me while I taste you. Can you do that for me ?”
You let out a shuddering breath that threatens to melt into a sob and it gets him impossibly harder. Your face is bashful, clearly hesitant, yet your cunt drips more of the gossamer fluid he loves onto his lips. “Come on honey”, Kento encourages, searching for your hand with his own and bringing it to your slick sex. He guides your fingers on either side of your puffy folds, voice deceptively calm when he instructs, “Just like that – that’s a good girl, let me see you when I eat you out. Don’t be shy now, you know I love looking at you; you’re so beautiful everywhere, I could cum just from this.” 
The praise he withheld all day long starts pouring. Every groan of appreciation, every hot breath fanning your glistening pussy makes you slicker and your mind grows fuzzier at Kento’s lauding. You keep yourself spread for him, showing your swollen clit without even being told to. His cock weeps at the sight, the painfully erect length twitching whenever you beg for more, so worked up your slick leaks right into his open mouth. Your tone is laced with eagerness and desperation - not for a release anymore, just the need to be good. It makes him want to be good to you in return.
Finally, Kento uses his hold over your hips to bring you down right where he needs you. The first lick of his tongue against your swollen clit has you choking on a moan of his name. Tired of denying you, Kento pulls more wanton moans from your parted lips with well-aimed flicks of his tongue against your clit, groaning when more arousal seeps onto his chin. He quickly grows hungrier, gentle flicks giving way to the insistent suckling of your clit in his mouth, tongue rolling around the pert bud until you gasp and keen in delicious agony. It’s too much and somehow not enough, your hips chasing his touch even when you feel yourself licked raw.
Kento offers you a reprieve from his voracious mouth when he feels the telltale sign of a painful orgasm starting to oscillate in you, nipping at your inner thigh to bring you down then slipping his tongue inside you to raise you back up again. This time he’s gentler, slowly fucking his tongue in and out of your greedy pussy. He takes his time with you, savouring how the almost pornographic moans he pulled out of you mellow into soft little mewls of pleasure. Easing his hold on you once more, he lets you ride his tongue, groaning whenever you bump your sensitive clit against his nose. You both fall in a rhythm, Kento lapping up into your sloppy sex and you riding his face in measured rolls of your hips, this time slowly creeping up the steep hill of your release. Kento is blissed out, head full of you - your scent, your saccharine arousal coating the better half of his face, your little hands grasping at his hair to help your ride out your pleasure - and he can’t help the way his hips jut up, his weeping dick untouched but already so close to release. Snaking a hand down his pants, Kento grabs at the base of his cock, stifling his own pleasure to draw out yours. 
With his free hand, he reaches out blindly up your abdomen to grab at your breasts. He brushes against one with the back of his hand, squeezing it appreciatively, then treats the other with the same reverent gentleness. You clench even harder around his tongue at that, teary eyes rolling back into your head when his hand spans over your chest, his thumb on one nipple and his pinky on the other. Everything becomes overwhelming, you want to tell him how good everything feels, how big his hand is against you and how you’re dangerously close to cumming on his face. Instead, cry out his name, pulsing around his tongue and gushing into his mouth, clit throbbing where it rubs against his nose. Your thighs shake violently on either sides of his face but you don’t pull away, and amid your incoherent babbles, Kento discerns your pleading for more, don’t stop it feels so good. He fucks his tongue into your harder, quicker - stroking your spasming walls so he can drink up everything you have to offer. He lets go of your breasts and his cock, using both hands to keep you firmly against his face even when your orgasm blooms into painful pleasure. His palms are hot against your ass as he spreads you open to lick you down from your climax, and you distinctly feel how one of them is covered in so much precum, adding to the already sloppy mess of your cum and his spit smeared on your lower half. 
Way past overstimulation, you shudder uncontrollably and your moans melt into pitiful sobs. Just as you are about to go boneless above him, Kento gracefully manoeuvers your body to help you lay by his side. He can look at you properly now and he marvels at how beautiful you are with your tear-streaked cheeks and heaving chest, your underwear back between your folds soaking up the mess he’s made of you. You look so fucked out, sniffling and blinking at him with misty eyes, the waves of your orgasm still ricochetting throughout your body.
“How’s this for a reward ?” Kento quips, lovingly brushing strands of hair from your sweaty forehead. You smile lazily at him, too tired to actually laugh, then you nuzzle into his palm and kiss it in silent appreciation. His heart clenches at that, incommensurable love entirely eclipsing lust. Kento litters your cheeks and forehead with small kisses until your laboured breathing evens out, then he slowly moves to stand up. 
“Where are you going ?” you mumble in a drowsy voice. “I’ll be right back to clean you up, don’t worry my love” he tries to get away from you at an awkward angle, hiding his precum-covered pants but your little hands grasp at him, a disapproving pout on your face The sight of Kento’s ill-hidden affliction chases the bleariness from your eyes, and you smile at him knowingly. “No you’re not, we’re not done.” “I know you’re tired, you don’t have to force yourself sweetheart, really I –”, Kento starts, the face of abnegation even as his cock aches to sheath itself in your warmth, but he stops when you slip off your spoiled panties and spread your legs for him again. It seems like he’s fucked the shyness out of you because you suddenly have no qualms about reaching both hands to your sloppy sex, spreading it like you’d just done for his mouth. His jaw drops open when you trail a delicate finger to your fluttering hole, circling it before sinking in agonisingly slow, breath hitching. You must be so sensitive, so warm and tight, he thinks. Primed for his cock. Kento searches your face again for more reassurance.
“You really don’t have to.” “I want to. I want you inside me, don’t you want to reward me for being your good girl ?”; your smile is deceptively innocent, finger still steadily pumping in and out of yourself.
Fuck it.
Kento all but clambers to kneel between your spread legs, strong hands holding your thighs to open you more to him, pushing them to your chest. His breathing quickly grows erratic, pupils so blown they eclipse the amber of his irises. You want to spur him on further so you reach a curious hand to run the length of his bare chest, raking your fingers along his happy trail until you reach his pants. Then, with a devious little smile, you slowly sneak your hand to his aching cock. Kento’s moan is guttural when you ghost your finger on his leaking tip, and he grunts in agony when you wrap your soft palm around him, pumping him to add to the mess he’s already made of himself. If your hand already feels so good, just how much better will your cunt feel ?
With his patience running thin, Kento bats your hands away and tugs his sullied pants down just enough to free his length. Shuffling closer to you, he strokes himself over your spread sex, lidded eyes transfixed on the beads of precum leaking from his tip onto your pert clit. You crane your neck to watch him add to the mess between your legs, eyes fleeting between the angry red head of his dick and his face contorting in uninhibited desire. Kento swipes at your slippery clit with his thumb, reaching to your hole to gather more of your slick and your cum, then stroking your thrumming pearl with it. 
“So messy”, Kento muses to no one in particular, entranced by how sloppy he already got you. “But I need you wetter”, he concludes, a mischievous glint in his eyes. You whine in protest when he takes his hand away, missing the gentle pressure that was already building your pleasure back again. Your protest dies in your throat however when Kento repositions himself above you just right, guiding his cock to rub the drooling slit of its head on your clit, coating you in his essence. Somehow, that’s still not enough and your eyes go wide when he gathers spit on his tongue, letting a hefty glob drop where you’re connected. You blush furiously at the sight, wanton moans only getting louder when Kento cups the back of your head to make you watch how messier his spit gets you. 
“Think you’re ready for me now, my love ?”  When you nod frantically, holding onto the back of your thighs yourself in an unspoken plea for him to take you, Kento knows you are. Slowly, he arches over you, one hand rubbing his cock over your sloppy sex, the other sliding under your head to tilt it and make you watch yourself get fucked like you’d begged for.
Kento sinks his cock into your awaiting hole excruciatingly slowly, feeding it to you inch by inch, his eyes trained on your face. So fucking pretty, he thinks. The most breathtaking woman he’s ever seen is somehow even more beautiful like this. Kento starves off the need to slam himself into you, quelling his hunger on your shuddering gasps and the deliciously painful bite of your nails into his biceps. He only stops when he’s fully sheathed into you wet heat, cockhead grazing your cervix and making you gasp like he’s just punched the air out of your lungs. He remains inside you, unmoving, letting you adjust to being stretched thin all over gain. Cupping your cheek with his hand, he finally kisses you and you sob into his mouth, kissing him back messily and trying to tell him how good it feels already. I know, I know, he soothes, the velvety baritone of his voice heightening your pleasure. When he feels you relax around him, Kento pulls out cautiously and revels in the whimper it earns him. Slowly, he starts rocking into you, first in measured rolls of his hips, but his gentle pace quickly picks up into something more frenzied. 
You spur him on, moaning right into his open mouth and drooling into the large palm he cradles your face with, telling him how good it feels, I won’t last like this Kento, I need to cum on your cock.  Everything is so filthy from your words and the way your slick runs down your ass and coats his balls, to the obscenely loud squelching of your pussy trying to keep him inside you whenever he pulls out. You do ineffable things to Kento and he already feels his orgasm creeping up on him but he needs to thwart it, he needs to feel you cum around his dick like you did on his tongue.
Loosening his hold around your trembling body, he sits back up, the frantic rutting of his twitching length in your heat unfaltering. Kento brushes his thumb to your clit and pushes onto your abdomen at the same time, cursing when you get impossibly tighter around him. His gaze is nothing short of adoring as he watches agony and pleasure swim in your glassy eyes -  you’re so close, right at the edge and Kento knows just how to send you over it. Curling over you once more, he keeps a firm hand pressed on your lower stomach, resting his weight on his forearm so he can hide his face into the crook of your neck. Kento bites, licks, nibbles on every unmarred spot of skin there, cock still drilling into you at a dizzying pace even when you try to warn him that you’re dangerously close.
“That’s it, give it to me, cum on my cock and make a mess like the good girl I know you want to be”, Kento moans right in your ear and your shivering body treats it like a command. You wail as you cum, taken aback by the force of your own orgasm, the walls of your pussy contracting painfully around Kento’s cock. Your high sends him tumbling over the edge too, with a pained gasp of your name. All you feel is Kento - his seed flooding you in long and thick spurts, his twitching cock still fighting against your spasming cunt, and above all, the heavy weight of his scorching hot palm over your lower stomach - and something breaks in you.
Kento feels it before he sees it ; the faint stream of liquid that sprays out of you as he fucks you through your orgasm steadily growing stronger to soak his stomach. He pulls away from you to watch you squirt all over him, eyes closed and mouth drooling, the picture of pleasure. He fights through the pinch of overstimulation that creeps up his cock and balls and fucks more out of you, only stopping when you have nothing more to give. 
Utterly spent, Kento pulls out of you with a wince and watches his cum leak out of you as if in a trance. You’re not faring any better, now completely limp and still soaking the comforter you had just washed this morning. As you fall in and out of consciousness, you weakly mumble to him, “Are you going to make me clean my mess this time too ?” Kento laughs, embracing you and kissing the crown of your head.
 “Spring cleaning is over so you’re off the hook for now.”
Tumblr media
For @foreverthelonelytraveller, I hope it's to your liking!
Disclaimer : I'm not a smut girly but I tried really hard and wanted to share something that'd be at least decent :)
144 notes · View notes
adora-but-ginger · 2 days
Text
Ardently Yours
ardent (adjective): to fall into strong feelings for or to develop a crush; to begin to love
pairing: spencer reid x psychic! gender neutral reader
synopsis: the four times where you almost call spencer by his first name, and the one time that you do
warnings: typical cm talk and discussions, a quick undercover case, spencer reid is NOT straight, honestly assume that any character i write for isn't straight, food mentions, swearing (probably), nervous spencer at the end, me having a bias towards glasses reid
masterlist
word count: ~5k
a/n: here is the next installment for my psychic reader collection! i spent a lot of time and effort on this one, and i have not written something this long in awhile, so i hope you all enjoy it as much as i do!
want to be tagged? let me know!
not proofread whoops again
Tumblr media
credit to gif owner!
i.
"Why do you drink coffee when you don't even like it?" You were by the kitchenette as Spencer rolled up for his morning caffeine fix, caught off guard by the realization that he wasn't alone.
He turned to you, adding sugar into his beverage. "Caffeine is a stimulant that increases your brain and nervous system's alertness. We work really odd hours. I don't understand what you're asking." The flow of sugar didn't stop until he was almost done talking, your eyes widening every second he kept pouring.
"Yes but aren't there other drinks that get the same result? Why coffee when you obviously don't like the taste?" You watched as he stirred the sugar-with-a-dash-of-coffee drink together, combining the ingredients.
He shrugged as he pushed up his glasses to sit better on his nose. "It's what's easily available."
"Hmm." You scrunched your eyebrows together. "Do you like tea?"
"I much prefer tea, actually." A wisp of hair fell in front of his face, and you were tempted to push it away. You weren't going to, that was absurd. But you were tempted. You had just reached a truce not too long ago and put your differences aside, meaning you had to make every moment count if you wanted to keep the peace.
Reid surveyed the room before continuing, as to watch for any possible intruders. "Last time I walked in with tea though, Morgan commented on my cup and would only talk to me in a horrible British accent the rest of the day." A small smile crept onto his features. "Learned that lesson quite quickly."
Now that you didn't seethe at the sight of him, you were able to read Reid better. Six months into the BAU now and you were able to have civilized conversations with the genius, progress that you valued as you got to know him. He was skeptical of what you could do with your mind still, but at least he was less vocal about it.
Something was different this morning though, but that may just be on your side. Because at seven a.m. sharp Spencer walked into the bullpen with those frames of his adorning his face, something that he hadn't done since the first month you were here. Why was that a problem? Because you couldn't keep your eyes off of him.
Maybe it was the change, or maybe it was something else, but you were put into a daze the first few seconds you saw him.
You came back to reality just in time for him to make his leave, and you made the collective decision to make a pit stop on the way in tomorrow if there were no cases announced today. You needed a change of pace in your morning routine anyway. At least, that's what you told yourself as you walked back to your desk, getting Emily's attention before striking up a riveting conversation with her regarding her weekend plans.
--
The next day when you walked into the office, you were balancing two drinks, one pastry, and a load of anxiety in your hands. You were the first one there, showing up a half an hour early as Spencer appeared twenty minutes early on the dot without missing a day. You had stopped by the café next to your apartment on your way here, getting yourself a drink and ordering a tea for Spencer that felt right. You didn't know what he usually had, but your mind searched his the day before to get a good grasp of the basics.
You knew that he had a big thing with germs (which was completely justified) and so you delicately laid down a folded napkin as a coaster for his tea before writing a little note of what it was. You signed with your initials before rounding to your own desk, just in the nick of time. You glanced down at your watch as it struck twenty-to, and watched nonchalantly as Reid walked into the office, immediately noting your presence and giving an awkward wave. The rest of the team filed in not too long after, and before you knew it you had lost a few hours to paperwork. It wasn't until midday that you felt a presence near your desk, the energy telling you it was Reid before you even looked in his direction.
"You got me baked goods. And a drink. Why?"
"The tea is caffeinated, and it's green--I know some people have sensitivities to other bases but usually green is a safe bet. It was no big deal, I had a couple punch cards that I turned in for free goodies so please don't think you owe me anything."
He awkwardly leaned against the side of your desk, trying to find a place to stick his hands. "Why did you do it?"
"Why do you think I did it?"
"I'm not sure. I looked up the shop on the cup and it's ten minutes in the opposite direction from here, you didn't go out of your way did you?"
Yes, you totally did. "No not at all, it was on my way."
He squinted at you, knowing you were telling a fib but not confident enough to call it out.
"Plus, I get the feeling you like pastries of the sort."
A smile flashed across his face. "I do, actually, the one you got is my favorite type."
You shot him a wink. "I thought so. You like the drink too?"
His shoulders slumped into a more relaxed response as the conversation went on. "I did, I never had that type before, but it was quite nice. The flavors were all very balanced, and I appreciated the sugar packets you brought along with it." He stood up, beginning to head back to his desk. "Thank you."
"Anytime Reid."
Were you there long enough to use his first name? It was a tricky thing, names, because some didn't mind being on a first-name basis from the get-go, but Reid was different.
It almost fell from your lips just then too, as he was walking away.
Maybe today wasn't the day, but you hoped soon it would be.
ii.
You were called into a case before you could finish your Saturday morning routine, and by midday the jet was taking you to Kentucky. with the woods surrounding you on pretty much all sides. That plus the humidity ever present equaled a very irritable team.
It was two days in when the profile was given, but your focus was on one of the local cops at the department. You didn't want to make it a big deal, but your incessant glaring was clearly making him uncomfortable. He was hiding something. Prentiss was the one to cue you first, nudging your arm after realizing you weren't letting up on your stare down.
"What is it? Everything alright?" She crossed her arms as she followed your line of sight.
"Yeah, it's just something's off."
"What's off?" Spencer appeared seemingly from nowhere and perched himself on your other side.
"Oh, hey Reid." Emily nodded in your direction. "They're reading Mr. Cowboy Boots over there." Sure enough, the cop had a pair on that did not match the uniform at all.
"His aura is different." You squinted as he gathered up some paperwork. "Most of the people in this office have an uncomfortable energy, but his is just...different. Not a good different either." A moment of silence filled the air. "Plus, I hate that toupee of his. It looks like a joke." He turned towards the three of you and you all glanced in separate directions, trying but failing to look like you hadn't just been studying him.
"The way he flows just doesn't match the energy of the others, and I'm going to figure out why."
"How can you tell?" Spencer looked from the man in question to the other locals, trying to understand an inch of what you were saying.
You kicked off from the wall you were slouching against before starting on your way towards him. "I just can. Give me a minute." And off you went.
You just needed to strike up small talk with him, really look into his eyes to try and uncover your rising suspicions. You were in earshot of Emily and Reid still, and it didn't take you long to understand why you were feeling the way you were.
Nodding as an exit cue, you booked it toward your two coworkers. "Call Garcia." You closed your eyes for a second, focusing your thoughts. "He knows the unsub. I don't know how, but either through friendship or familial ties, Boots over there is familiar with these murders.
"All you did was discuss tomorrow's weather, how can you know?" Spencer looked at you, confusion written all over those chiseled cheekbones.
You hummed as you reached out to flick an invisible piece of dust from his sweater vest. "His heart, it tells a story. A story of betrayal, of protecting a secret. Not like a typical hidden truth, but something much, much darker. He's inserting himself into this case as much as he can because of it." He reached for his found to send Penelope your info, no matter how apprehensive he was about it. You could tell he was unsure, but if it meant getting one step closer to catching this killer, he wasn't going to question it. Not now at least.
He picked up his phone, adjusting his glasses as he did so. "Hey, Garcia? We need you to check something out."
Emily went to relay the information to Gideon, and you took a moment to admire the boy genius. You had to admit that ever since you two started getting along, you were seeing him in a new light. A light that you wished minded its own damn business. His awkwardness was adorable, and when he showed up to the case today wearing those glasses of his, well, you had to pencil in a cold shower for later.
Whether he knew it or not, he truly was gorgeous.
You weren't planning to acknowledge those feelings anytime soon though. There was a killer on the loose and this was the last thing you needed to be thinking about right now.
"He hasn't slept since the beginning of the case either. Those bags under his eyes are days old and he--" Spencer stared at you as he telephoned your information to Garcia's side. "He has a grass allergy. That last part isn't important, I just needed to let someone else know that I knew that too." You mumbled the last part of yourself, looking briefly out towards the cloudy evening.
He turned towards you, shooting you a confused look. He covered the phone with his hand. "You can tell if someone has an allergy?"
You shrugged. "Yeah, I guess I can." You squinted your eyes at him, and you two had worked together enough now that he knew you were reading him. "You're allergic to pollen." The lack of reaction from him was reaction enough. "And peaches? Cantaloupe, too."
The corner of his eye twitched, and you smirked at your victory. He resumed his attention to the phone. "Garcia, they're freaking me out again, reading my mind."
Maybe you two were friends. Friends call each other by their first names, right? You silently tested it out on your tongue.
Gideon's voice grabbed the two of you's attention before his name could fall from your lips.
iii.
You were not a fan of going undercover. It was a part of the job that you thankfully didn't have to exercise much of, but whenever the opportunity arose, you did your best to avoid it. It was uncomfortable, especially when you fit the victimology to a tee. You had a weapon tucked away as a fail-safe, but there you were, sitting alone in a bar with a glass untouched in front of you.
Act as though you had a fresh break-up, he's going after people who seem heartbroken.
Make sure not to draw too much attention.
Let us know the moment he leads you out. Click the pen and we'll be sent an alert.
You were a decent actor, but it felt weird knowing that you were practically bait for this case. It didn't help that you hated the bar setting, the sticky floors, questionable seats, and dim lighting. Not to mention they were always overcrowded whenever you went. No, you'd much rather be at home, or honestly anywhere rather than here.
"Any updates?" Reid's voice sounded through your earpiece, relaxing you a little. The team was strategically placed outside the establishment, with Spencer also somewhere within the pool of people inhabiting this bar. Back-up, he called it, though you were pretty sure that you'd be a better shot than he was. Plus, he hated this setting even more than you. So why was he here?
You tried to search for him, attempting to find the brunette in the mass of people. You caught someone's eyes in the process, quickly locking theirs with your own before moving on.
Here we go.
The man fit the profile to a tee, and noticing that you were alone started to make his way to you.
You swirled your drink in your hand as he sauntered up to you. Even if you weren't here undercover, you wouldn't go near this guy with a jousting pole. Time to put on the charm.
"Well hey there, you look lonely."
You put on an overly friendly smile. "Oh, you're too kind."
"Mind if I take a seat?"
One glance at him and you knew. This was your guy. You clicked the alarm disguised as a pen, and now you just had to get him out of the bar. "Go right ahead."
It took ten minutes before you could get anywhere, and by the time you convinced him to leave with you, you wanted to retch--his grubby hands were laying on your shoulder, rubbing it as he walked alongside you, other hand on the small of your back.
You were definitely making sure that as a reward for putting up with this, you had your paperwork covered for at least a week.
One moment you felt the fresh evening air, the next you heard shouts from all sides. But then you felt cold metal against your neck, and you realized this was going to take a little longer than expected. This is exactly why you hated going undercover.
"Put the guns down or they get it." You hadn't been on this side of the job yet, being held hostage with your teammates staring down the possibility of what one wrong move could mean.
"Statistically, killers like you try to take the path of police-assisted suicide in a situation like this, but you can make it out with a life sentence if you're smart about it. Either way, you'll never see what life looks like out of cement walls." Reid's voice sounded from behind you, as you welcomed the wave of relief that swept over you as his voice hit your ears. "Choose wisely."
You sensed it before it happened. You kicked his kneecap in as he went to swipe at you, and though you ended up with pain lightly searing against your clavicle, there Reid was, handcuffing him before handing him over to Morgan.
Spencer noticed your wound and moved towards you. "Is it deep?"
You shook your head. "No, just stings."
"I had eyes on you the entire time. I know it was really busy in there, but I was there. Just in case. I didn't lose you, you were safe." He waited a second before continuing. "Let's go get that cleaned up, it's pretty nasty looking."
You sent a smile at the man. "Thank you. Seriously, Spen--"
Gideon called both of your names before you could finish the sentence, leaving his first name still unknown on your lips.
iv.
The weather was just starting to clear again. It wasn't humid in D.C. and the temperature was at a steady rise, though it was still bearable. You had been talking with Hotch about weekend plans, which you had to admit was a little odd.
It wasn't that you and Aaron didn't get along, per se, but you two had just never sought the other out during non-work hours. He was telling you about his partner, Hailey, who sounded lovely. You'd never seen the man as lively as when he was talking about her.
"And then she offered to go to the art gallery to see the new exhibit, which I didn't even know about."
"You like art?" You were leaning against his desk with a cup of coffee in hand.
"I do. What about you, any events planned?"
You shook your head. "No, just me and my fish catching up on some reading hopefully."
"You know Reid reads too?" Hotch looked over to the man of the hour who was coincidentally staring back, quickly glancing away as if caught.
"Reid reads. There has to be a pun in there." You snorted at your words, shrugging afterward. "He reads books that I have no interest in though, and I distinctly remember hearing about his disdain for fiction, which is my forte."
"I'm sure if you asked him, he would." He paused for a moment before shuffling some papers. "You two could start your own book club."
This was the thing with Aaron, you could never tell if he was joking.
"In fact, he's coming this way now." Surprise scribbled onto your face as you turned to look behind you. Sure enough, like he'd been summoned, there was Spencer striding over. His contacts must have been picked up because he was bare-faced today, which made no difference to you--your heart still skipped a beat. You noticed he was giving off lots of nervous energy as he approached, though from the outside he looked relatively relaxed.
"Why are you nervous Reid?" Never one to beat around the bush, you were.
That relaxation quickly dissipated as he looked towards you and Hotch. His eyes met yours. "How do you--never mind. Do you have a second?"
You nodded. "Hotch, tell me how the exhibit goes, yeah?" With a nod from Aaron, you met Spencer halfway, motioning him to lead the onward. "What's up?"
He didn't speak until you got to his desk. "First, before I say anything, know that I do not mind at all if you say no."
"Okay...?" You watched him skeptically as he fiddled with his hands, looking at you every few seconds before surveying the room. "What, are you about to ask me on a date or somet--"
"I have two tickets to the star show they're hosting at the planetarium on Saturday, and I know that you love the constellations. I've been once before and it was really nice, they tell you all about the patterns and legends behind each one and I think you'd really like it. Penelope suggested I ask you since you usually are relatively free on the weekends, which isn't a bad thing of course. In fact, I don't usually do much on the weekends besides going to the park and playing chess with the regulars there." He was rambling, truly on edge about how'd you respond. A smile started to rise on you. "It's later in the evening so when you leave the planetarium you can see the stars in question, but it's not too far from my place and you do not have to go if you're busy or don't want to, I just thought I'd ask."
His eyes were wide as you ate up every one of his words. His voice was like the harmony of your favorite song--you loved to pick it out and listen to how each of the words he spoke flowed. His face had a tint of rose on it, and a piece of hair had fallen into his eyes. You had to once more withhold from pushing it back into place.
"I would love to go, where would you like to meet?"
Shock was written all over his features at your accepting of his invitation, and you were pretty sure he was already preparing a proper response to a rejection when you said your words.
"You want to go?"
A nod accompanied you. "Yeah, you can teach me all about the science and I can teach you all about your star sign."
He shot you a quizzical glance before relaxing his shoulders. Man, he was really tense. "Okay. Okay, great! I can send you my address. We can walk there from my place, it's only about ten minutes away. It's at 7 pm, does that work?"
"Works perfect for me." A thought popped into your head, one that could make this outing seem to be much more than it really was. "That's a little past when I eat, want to grab dinner beforehand?"
He scrunched his eyebrows at you. Uneasiness started to form in your belly, maybe you were being a little too bold. "What type of dinner? Restaurant dinner or takeout dinner?"
"We could do takeout? You said you know a 24-hour Thai place around here, right? It's one of your favorite places in the area."
He was almost caught in a trance then, looking nearly through you, staring at you with an expression you had never really seen on his face before. "You remembered that?"
"Of course I did, I remember things about the people I care about."
He couldn't speak for a second after your words. Yeah, you were definitely being too bold.
"You--" His voice cracked and you almost chuckled as he cleared his throat. "--I'll grab some food from there before we head out. Want to stop by around six?"
"Six it is. See you there, boy wonder." You shot a wink his way. "And thank you for the invite, I cannot wait to go." His first name was on the tip of your tongue, ready to spill out at the slightest egging on. He looked almost expectantly at you and you had to remind yourself of where you were and who you were with.
This wouldn't be considered a date, would it?
v.
Spencer totally thought this was a date. He could count the number of dates he'd been on on his hand, and most of them were with Ethan. It'd been a while since he'd gone out, and he was nervous.
What if he was overdressed? What if he was underdressed? What even was the dress code for the night? What if you didn't show up?
He tried to not let that last thought get to him because if it did then he would spiral and would all in all not have a good time tonight. This wasn't platonic, right? He didn't think it was. Did you? Did--
A knock at his door interrupted his ruminating. He scrambled to make sure he looked presentable, heart practically thrumming against his rib cage as he did so. There was just one problem.
He couldn't see.
It wasn't that he hated how he looked with his glasses on, but it made him feel self-conscious and he hated to wear the frames outside of his house. The only problem was that the last of his contacts had dried out, and he really wanted to look nice for your guys' outing. He could not see more than five feet in front of him for his life, which in retrospect kind of ruined the whole point of looking at the stars.
That didn't matter in his mind as long as it impressed you. He knew that he shouldn't dress to impress, but you and your alternative methods of profiling had snuck their way into his brain and refused to leave. He thought about whether you'd do the daily crossword with him almost every morning. He made sure to always bring an extra morning snack in the case that you got hungry. Hell, he was writing to his mother about you.
He was in much farther than he knew.
A second round of knocks sounded at the door.
He opened it after looking through the peephole and nearly lost his breath.
You were stunning, and he felt more out of his element than he had in years.
Wow, he was really in deep.
"Phew, I thought I had the wrong address at first. I am so ready for some Thai and stars!" You entered his place, but his mind was still a few steps behind. "This place is beautiful, and so...you!" Neat piles of books were stacked in rows alongside his couch, and as he went to readjust one's positioning his lack of visual clarity made him trip.
Great.
You rushed over to him, careful to keep your distance but still close enough to offer help if he asked. "Woah, are you alright there?"
"Yeah, I-I just must've not seen where I was heading." He could feel the dust adorning his cheeks. He was totally making a fool out of himself. "Please, take a seat at the table, the food is still hot."
You smiled and nodded, taking in the contents of his home whilst sitting down. He went over and grabbed the Thai food, bringing it over to the table. He set the food down and went to sit, not knowing that this was the moment before a disaster. One of the chairs must not have been fully pushed in, and with the combination of his nerves, and his blurriness, his foot got caught right over it as he went to sit across from you.
Now, you fully respected and understood Spencer's hatred of germs, so you'd apologize later for coming to the rescue. That being said, you sensed it a half a second before it was going to happen, stood up, and reached out to catch him.
"Oh my god, are you okay?" His arms were on yours, bracing them for stability. "What's wrong? Are you sick?" He could feel your eyes looking him up and down for any signs of maladies. "We can reschedule and go another night if something's wrong." He really did not want to admit the reasoning behind his clumsiness. "I can take you to the doctor's if you're feeling ill." Now he definitely had to expose himself. How would he even explain this to a medical professional?
Oh hey doc, I got told repeatedly that I look better with contacts and now the one time I need them I don't have them which ironically is the one night in years that I had to chance to go out with someone who I think I'm starting to really like so can you please give me a fake diagnosis so they didn't drive me here for nothing?
Yeah, that wasn't going to work. He had to bite the bullet. "I'm not sick." He slowly removed himself from your grasp. "I just can't see."
A concerned look graced your features. "What? Is everything okay?"
"Yes, I just--"
"You just what Reid? You can talk to me. Your energy is super wonky right now. I'm getting a little worried for you."
This was stupid. He was acting stupid. He shouldn't be embarrassed by this. You were just looking out for him, that was all, it was all probably surface level anyway. It was all--
"Spencer, what's wrong?"
His breath stifled to a halt.
"What did you just say?"
Your concerned look deepened.
"I asked what was wrong."
You had never called him by his first name before.
He shook his head. "No, before that." His eyes met yours. "You've never said my first name before."
A flash of...regret? nerves? shot through your eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to overstep any boundaries. I should've asked--"
"Say it again." He properly sat down. "My name I mean, say it again. Please."
"You're not mad?" You were tentative with your words now, adding his name after a beat. "...Spencer?"
His name formed like the first rain shower after a draught on your lips, falling with the grace of the autumn leaves from your tongue.
"You've never called me that before." His expression was shy, and man he wished he could see more than your blurry figure right now. "I, uh, thought I could go without my glasses tonight, but I also don't have my contacts."
"Would you like me to call you that more?" You were going to make him go into freaking cardiac arrest. He nodded fervently. Your shoulders slightly lost some of their tension. "Why would you do that to yourself? You wouldn't be able to see."
"Statistically those who wea--"
"Spencer."
Oh, he was turning to putty now. You were going to kill him, and he didn't mind.
"I thought I would look better without them."
A scoff emitted from you. "If you need them to see, you need them to see. Don't change your appearance for the approval or interest of someone else." He felt the red rush up his neck, around his ears. "Plus," You added with a quieter tone. "I think you look plenty good with them on." You locked eyes. "Gorgeous, even. There's a reason Morgan calls you pretty boy, you know."
Gorgeous? You just called him gorgeous. No one had called him that before.
"Really?"
"Really, Spencer."
Yeah, he was done for.
taglist:
@alllriseabove @kitty-kei @donttrustlove @jiuseoks
134 notes · View notes
withabroken-heart · 22 hours
Text
I APOLOGIZE IF ITS A LITTLE TOO MUCH, JUST A LITTLE TOO SOON
kirishima x reader
thoughts on how kirishima acts in a relationship
lovey dovey stuff, teenagers suck but love is an experience
a/n: i need 17 more songs that sound and feel exactly like so american ♥️ GUTS i’ll always love u
a/n: falling in love is the best healing feeling and also hell on earth simultaneously
Tumblr media
eijiro kirishima, who texts you goodmorning and goodnight religiously. you're the first person he wants to talk to in the morning and the last person he wants to hear from before he drifts off. his face turns almost as red as his hair and eyes whenever his phone lights up with a buzz, seeing that you've replied to him. he saves your contact with a <3 right next to your name. your photo is a picture he snapped of you wearing one of his tank tops, sitting loosely on you. normally his sculptured biceps fill out the fabric to the brim, but he prefers the way you wear it. he wants to stare at you every time he picks up the phone in the morning to text you.
eijiro kirishima, who lets you help him dye his hair after the third time you insist on it. he feels a slight hint of embarrassment, thinking its un-manly to need help with a simple task, but after the first couple of rounds he insists on you doing it. he loves the way your fingers weave delicately through his hair, touching up his roots and treating him like he’s a glass sculpture. and afterwards while he waits for it to set he’ll help you with menial tasks in return- like finishing your algebra (not that he’s any better, but he means well) or making you a quick dinner. he’s an expert when it comes to self-care, and knows that working out and eating well isn’t healthy if its not accompanied by nourishing your happiness. he knows what candy’s to bring to pick up for you while he’s purchasing his dye, what movies to play in the background while he’s letting his hair soak, and exactly how to hug you when it’s all done.
eijiro kirishima, who becomes a sucker for sappy love songs once you get him introduced to it. at first, he hums along to your playlist in the car. then he’s following the artists you like on instagram and keeping up with their recent music. then it’s actively going out of his way to listen to them because each line about love and longing is about you. he makes a playlist titled [y/n] <3 and its all the songs that have made you come up in his head. little do his gym friends know that he’s streaming the tortured poets department while he’s lifting weights DOWN BAD CRYING AT THE GYM ANYONE
eijiro kirishima, who absolutely loves anything you create. muffins, bread, brownies- you’ve suddenly tested his willpower when it comes to his rigid diet. but he can’t help himself- everything tastes better when he knows you’ve put the time and effort into it. with so many eyes watching the young hero, he often forgets to properly feed himself- which is when you come in, always reminding him to eat. when he’s not looking, you’ll slip an extra treat or two in his bag, and come home greeted with a hug and kiss of gratitude for keeping his tummy full.
eijiro kirishima, who comes to you seeking refuge from his insecurities. he has quirk envy badly, sometimes just staring at the heroes he sees around him and wonders how he could ever live up to them. he feels as though he pails in comparison, not knowing how to articulate his worries into words. sometimes he’ll simply hug you, resting his chiseled chin on your shoulder while a huff escapes his lips. he doesn’t need to say anything because you know him. you know how he gets in his head. so you kiss his temples and remind him that he is exactly how he should be. that he’s enough. enough to be strong. enough to be a great hero. enough to be the red riot you love so much. he’s enough for you. and thats what plants are smile on his face as he leans in to kiss you. it’s enough for him too.
eijiro kirishima, who loves showing you off at the gym. mostly to his friends, who comment on how he seemingly never shuts up about you- but a part of him finds pride in the jealous stares others give him. he almost wants to give them a look of ‘i know, right?’ while they admire your beauty, the way you look when sweat ripples down your skin and your cheeks are flushed pink. but he feels sorry for them. sorry that they can’t have you they he’s got you. his eyes sparkle when he sees you pushing yourself, feeling inspired that he now has someone to be so proud of. he’s always proud of you.
eijiro kirishima, who worries he’ll mess it up with you. that it’s all too good to be true- that theres no way he got so lucky so young. he worries you’ll grow bored, tired, or sick of him. he worries you aren’t as in love with him as he is with you. because eijiro kirishima is so, so in love with you. he knows this is love because he sees more than just a high-school fling, he sees the future. he sees someone he will always run to with open arms. and when you kiss him back, arms wrapped around him in a tender embrace, he gets the feeling that you’re so in love with him, too.
85 notes · View notes
dunmeshistash · 2 days
Note
I’ve been seeing a lot of complaints abt lack of diversity in dunmeshi since the animation. What do u think abt it? Like I get wanting representation and giving black and brown ppl more characters to relate to would be absolutely fabulous, but I also feel that the western fandom are sometimes too entitled with things like that. I even see some ppl completely discrediting the whole show just bc there wasn’t a black character? This was meant for Japanese ppl. Most mangakas don’t expect their work to be animated initially unless they are already hugely successful and therefore don’t expect to get a major international audience, so the representation they put in will inherently be more relevant to Japanese ppl. But then again Japan does have a small but still significant black population, especially in the big cities so it’s still sth reasonable to ask for. Just, u know, not sth to discredit the whole show for especially considering the medium I think.
I must preface this once again by saying I'm just some guy™️and I'm not gonna say if it is or isn't good representation cause that's subjective. Rather I'll try to explain what I think about people's reactions (cause that's interesting to me)
I understand the complaints about the lack of diversity, and I don't think "this was made for a japanese audience" to be a good argument since the basis of the story and most of the characters are based on western fantasy. So most of the characters aren't even japanese, so it wasn't really a case of relatability.
I believe the arguments of lack of representation dungeon meshi suffers probably comes from a backlash to the overwhelming praise it gets, I think some people (me included sometimes) get a little too overexcited and overpraise it, especially when it comes to the representation.
We compare it to other anime and I think for that we kinda exaggerate on how much representation there actually is, cause most anime has none. So I guess some people dislike that the "bare minimum" is being praised as if is revolutionary, it can be frustrating for someone that wishes for good and real representation for themselves when they see the safest representation ever being praised as something out of the ordinary. I guess anime fans (ME INCLUDED) are like battered partners as soon as we get someone that treats us like human beings well we think they're god lmao.
The internet hates subtlety and critical thinking tho. So "It's not as good representation as you're hyping it up to be" becomes "this has shit representation" and people ignore that it IS a step on the right direction, especially when it comes to anime.
I think dungeon meshi is pretty cool representation wise for what it is tbh, especially when it comes to character design. Ryoko Kui is a master of representing varying people of all shapes and sizes, and I can tell as an artists she makes an effort with what she draws.
Why the main character are the most convetionally atractive well built ones, Why her drawings outside dungeon meshi are so much more diverse than dungeon meshi itself etc is things we can only guess 👍 (remembering that yeah, she doesn't really draw black people even outside dunmeshi)
Anyway once again I just think nuance is the ideal, it doesn't need to be "the best representation ever" nor "the worst representation ever" it is what it is, there's good things about it, bad things about it and okay things about it.
83 notes · View notes
Note
any thoughts on lilias parenting style?
Tumblr media
I’ve long held the belief that Lilia is not the “best” or “perfect” parent in TWST, but I love that he’s so imperfect yet is willing to learn and grow from his failures and shortcomings. It’s really commendable how far he has come, especially considering that he used to be much gruffer and made claims like he never wants a child or he’s not suited to be a father and is repulsed by the very idea of it.
It’s sad to think about how, for the longest time, Lilia believed he was incapable of loving others—both receiving love and giving it in a parental capacity. He says as much to Meleanor before what could be her last stand. Bro has so much love to give 😭 and it’s so fascinating to see book 7 focus on that love between parent and child, blood be damned.
Of course Silver is the quintessential child we all think of whenever Lilia’s parenting is brought up. Silver says it must have been tough for Lilia to raise him as a single parent and with limited knowledge of human children—but Lilia still did it, and out of the kindness of his heart, for an infant who was essentially a complete stranger. However, as far back as the human-fae conflict of Briar Country, Lilia was literally throwing his life and reputation on the line for his “children”. He protected Malleus’s egg with his own body. He provided the magic that would shave off several hundred years from his lifespan to ensure that his prince hatched. He allowed himself to be chased out of the capital city but still made the time to be there for Malleus, as well as shielded Silver from the ugly truth. In modern day, we also see Lilia him imparting sage wisdom onto his boys and making efforts to help them with their own downfalls: advising Malleus on the differences between fae and humans, asking the other first years to watch over Sebek, inviting Malleus to events, reminding Sebek to be kind to his human peers, etc. Above all else, Lilia promotes understanding, and wishes for a world where all the races can live together. He leaves Silver with the same sentiments, and in him, Lilia’s legacy of love can live on.
As I said briefly mentioned before, Lilia isn’t perfect. He’s putting his own life in danger and taking the emotional brunt of the events of the past for them. He hides the circumstances surrounding Malleus’s birth, the truth behind Silver’s origins, and many other details pertaining to the warring period. In modern day, Lilia is quick to make an exit when the dark carriage comes for him, trying to save his boys the agony of a prolonged good-bye. There are also just general parenting failures under his belt: feeding babies milk through a cup (you’re supposed to use a fitted nipple, otherwise the baby could choke), not being concerned when Silver is missing + expecting him to come back on his own, general emotional insensitivity and unawareness (him laughing when Silver realized their ear shapes are different and they’re not actually blood-related), leaving Silver unsupervised in their forest cottage while he goes off to travel, taking his pranks and mischief too far (thus causing trouble for Silver, such as Endless Halloween Night), his… cooking… etc. He does manage to mend some of those issues (like having the Zigvolts help watch Silver or letting slightly older Silver housesit with the animals), but other issues like the milk in a cup persist. Additionally, Lilia can be inconsistent with his emotional awareness, as he does not realize his Halloween mischief would worry Silver as much as it did. At the same time, Lilia is overall more in tune with his son’s feelings (he’s one of the few who can read the notoriously stoic Silver’s emotions flawlessly). However, Lilia still prioritizes keeping his childrens’ eyes away from the truth and instead is shouldering the pain for them. We find ourselves circling back around to all the sacrifices Lilia has made for Malleus, Silver, and yes, even Sebek—and I’ll bet that Lilia is willing to go the distance and do more.
I actually wonder if Lilia’s “I’ll shoulder everything for you” parenting originates in part from him overcompensating for the love he never received as a child. He was an orphan taken in as a ward for his country, shunned by the Briar Valley senators for being some filthy bat with no proper lineage to speak of. He didn’t get the girl he crushed on and instead lost her and his best friend (still MIA) to the war. He was banished from the capital and loathed for his mere existence. He had things thrown at him and was chased out of cities. Lilia has experienced so much hatred and vitriol that I would not fault him if he turned bitter and sent that same hate and vitriol back. That would be the easy thing to do. But… he has also experienced great kindness and acceptance along his travels. Strangers inviting him into their homes. People telling him about their lives. Offerings of food and a warm bed. It is through these experiences that Lilia is shown an alternative: a world of love, not war. Then, upon seeing these children in need of guidance, he sees a younger version of himself in them—lonely (Malleus, isolated in his castle), lost (Silver, without his parents), confused (Sebek, about his half fae/half human identity). He knows what could become of them if he lets hate envelop their hearts. And Lilia doesn’t want what he suffered through to befall them, nor a future where the same vitriol is perpetuated. So… he throws himself into ensuring these boys have a guiding star, someone who champions empathy and cooperation between all races, at the cost of himself.
It’s fascinating to consider that Silver (the one who was most closely raised by Lilia) reflects his father’s teachings but also Lilia’s self-sacrificial behavior, even though Silver isn’t fully aware of what Lilia gave to raise him. Silver consciously believes that he hadn’t done enough to “pay back” his dad (similar to how Lilia may have taken Malleus under his wing to “pay back” his debt of Maleficia taking him as an orphan in and not being there for Meleanor in her final battle). To compensate, Silver keeps pushing himself to do things like suppress his own sadness at Lilia’s farewell party, taking physical blows for Lilia, and even believing that he isn’t worthy of Lilia’s love. I guess the sayings “like father, like son” and “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree” are applicable here.
Anyway! Lilia as a father (whether literally or figuratively) will never not be interesting to me.
58 notes · View notes
silamander · 2 days
Note
do you have any hatchetfield headcanons you’d like to share???
HOHOHOHO I COULD KISS YOU (/p)
- Peter gave Ted an “I ❤️ hot moms” shirt for Christmas one year.
- Boy Jerry applied for the Hatchetfield Gazette to help support Girl Jeri during her pregnancy.
- Paul has the gift and it’s predicting the future (kind of a sixth sense/precognition), hints on why he always knows/feels like something bad will happen. But that power is so small and weak because he never unlocked it or used it as a kid.
- Ted and Dan Reynolds were best friends in high school, everyone either had trouble telling them apart or thought they were twins.
- Duke has a cat named Holly. He can't exactly explain why he chose that name. Maybe it reminded him of something…
- Becky Barnes has freckles (cause I think it fits her)
- Barry Swift sleep-walks.
- Paul can't drive. He either calls a taxi or just walks around Hatchetfield like an NPC, head empty.
- Professor Hidgens is a former member of PEIP. Also he and General McNamara used to date, no I will not elaborate.
- People think that Becky “isn't as hot as she used to be” because back in high school she was always dressed up and would wear makeup almost everyday since she was cheer captain. She’s gotten rid of that habit after graduating but now people perceive her as “less hot” because god forbid a woman age and stop doing shit for the sake of being performative anymore.
- Nibbly's tongue flicks out of his mouth to taste the air like a snake when in his true form.
- Peter was a Greek mythology kid. Something about him screams "I read percy jackson way too much as a kid”
- Richie had a glee phase (no I will not elaborate, and neither will he if you ask him about it).
- Steph’s ripped jeans had small holes in them when she bought them and her dad made fun of her for buying something already broken so she made the holes bigger out of spite.
- Wiggly sleeps in sand like a squid. Like literally just buries himself in there, completely submerged.
- Pokey is trying to prove himself to his older siblings, and has a minor inferiority complex. So that’s why he needs to take over every timeline, to show he’s worthy.
- Hailey hates confrontation. That's the reason she's still "friends" and roommates with Zoey. It's not worth the effort or the fight.
- Gary Goldstein is the biggest Reality TV fan in Hatchetfield (except Zoey, she's a close second).
- Grace is the type of girl who says she hates drama and gossip but she knows all the drama at Hatchetfield High.
- Tom and Becky would often stargaze on the football field back in their high school days, especially after the big games. Stargazing together became their way to unwind and talk, without people listening in on every little thing being said and spreading rumors. Not like they would dare do that to two of the most popular people in school.
- Officer Bailey and Miss Mulberry are engaged (which is why they went to see Workin' Boys together).
- PEIP gives its agents training on how to do dramatic speeches and cryptic advice.
- Wiggly manifested an entire castle in the black and white for him and his siblings to live in.
- Karen and Mark Chasity sleep in separate beds like some sitcom couple from the 60’s. Grace thinks this is totally normal and is shocked and appalled to learn that it is not.
- Max's mom disappeared after being crowned Honey Queen when Max was around 5-6. She wanted the prize money to support her family because Max's father was laid off from his job.
- Ethan taps his fingers on literally every surface ever to whatever song is in his head. He has 100% rick rolled people this way.
- Max has two snaggletoothed incisors which is why people swear to god he has fangs.
- Paul uses his phone like a grandma, he puts on the glasses to read and everything.
- Ted reads romance novels. He’s a former geek turned sleazeball- you know he reads the smuttiest novels ever and calls them “his research”. He refuses to read any book with the friends to lovers trope because it’s too upsetting to think about.
- Back in college, Ted was a lot like AC!Pete. He was nerdy, sweet, and a little awkward but he still had some confidence and smugness. Basically him and Jenny were a lot like Steph and Pete in Abstinence Camp.
59 notes · View notes
justcallmecj · 2 days
Text
Seeing Your Dragon Form: First Years
(I feel like this chapter of the series may be crappier than the previous ones. I'm slowly running out of ideas and have used up quite a bit of my writing energy recently. I've come to realize that writing for the First Year Squad is just harder for me because I'm used to the pure crackhead energy the fandom gives them, but I'm still going strong! Oh well, I really want to write, so here I am!)
^Original note from Quotev that I put prior to the chapter. As a sort of mini explanation for my mindset going into this one.
Ace
Ace wanted to look unimpressed and chill, but he was currently losing it, and you could tell.
When you finally settled down, he approached you with his hands behind his head, really trying to hit home the idea he wasn't fanboying over you right now.
You brought your head down to allow him to get a closer look as well as touch your horns and snout.
He was a lot gentler than you thought he'd be.
He carefully ran his hand up and down your snout, making you hum in the process.
He tried talking to you, getting frustrated when you'd only hum and growl, before those two working brain cells in his head worked and he figured out that you couldn't actually talk.
He doesn't know, for some reason, a part of his brain just assumed you'd be able to talk.
Despite the current situation, Ace's behavior didn't change. He still tried to tease you, coming up basically unsuccessful because that's just how it is between the two of you, didn't stop him though.
Once, when you weren't paying attention, he tried to climb onto your back, not expecting the reaction that you'd have.
When you realized, you rolled over, trapping him under you. Due to the size difference, he was completely stuck, despite how much effort he put into trying to push you off him. You made sure not to hurt him though, and you didn't.
He could practically hear you laughing, even if it just came out as draconic grumbles.
sigh "You really never change, huh? You big bully! Though honestly, what can I say? I'm the same way, and I wouldn't want you any other way."
Deuce
Deuce was certainly nervous.
No fear. His brazen, delinquent years prepared him to take on any challenge that may be thrown at him, but this was definitely different.
He was stunned for a decent while after you transformed. Just kinda standing there, frozen in place.
Pretty sure his brain fried for a moment.
When he finally came back to his sense, he tried to play it all off with compliments, but really, there was no tricking you, but you gave him the benefit of the doubt and ignored it.
He was the most interesting by your wings.
(If I remember correctly)One of the reasons he likes being on the Track Team/Magical Wheel(?Can't remember which), is feeling the wind rush past him when he picks up speed. Because of this, he really admired your wings, which could do the same thing but ten fold.
He really wanted to ask you to take him on a flight with you, but was too shy to ask out loud. Maybe one day he'll have the confidence.
He made sure to be extra careful around parts like your horns, tail and other parts that may be considered sensitive/vulnerable. He didn't want to risk being even a little to rough and hurting you. He'd never forgive himself if he hurt you. (He doesn't realize how tough dragon skin and scales are, just give him a while).
All in all, it was a pleasant experience for the both of you. He had fun getting to see a new side of you, and you got to have a breather in your dragon form with no worries about who's around you.
"This is truly amazing. I can't believe you're capable of something like this. You really make NRC much more fun than it would be if you weren't here."
Jack
His reaction was much different from the others.
You and him are pretty similar in more ways than some may think.
Both of you are non-human beings capable of turning into a natural animal form. Him a wolf, you a dragon.
He was calm, but astounded. He didn't think you'd be quite so big.
He gets bigger than a normal wolf when he uses his Unique Magic, but he always assumed that was because he's a bigger person himself. Maybe it's just natural for anyone capable of this ability.
He was cautious to approach, not fully aware of how conscious you are, taking his own wolf state into account.
You just sat down, tail resting on the forest floor, wings at rest, showing just how comfortable you were in the situation. That convinced him that nothing had changed except how you looked.
He sat next to you, showing the same peaceful signs. Tail resting and ears calm.
You came closer, laying your head down next to his side. He reached out a hand and gently stroked the top of your head.
You two just stayed there like that for a while. Peacefully enjoying each others calm presence, until he stopped petting you.
You had gotten so used to the feeling and were so close to falling asleep, him stopping upset you.
In retaliation, you picked up your head and placed it down in his lap. He panicked for a moment before freezing, not knowing quite what to do.
He soon recognized the affectionate action. It was one his younger sister and brother would do when they wanted affection without actually saying they wanted affection. A silent plea.
He placed his hand back on your head, petting you like he was not even a minute ago. Sometimes he'd move his hand and scratch behind your ear, which caused you to hum and delight.
"We really are more alike than I thought. Are you sure you're not just a dog in disguise?" You grumbled at the playful tease, making him laugh.
Epel
Epel actually reacted much differently than you expected.
The moment he saw your dragon form, he wasted no time in rushing over and didn't even attempt to hide his complete adoration.
He jump up and down, bouncing on the heel of his feet. He rushed around, taking in every detail about you that he could.
His attention to speech completely leaves his mind and his natural accent slips in until he's speaking with such a think accent it's sometimes hard to understand what he's saying.
This may very well be the most excited you've seen Epel act, other than when he's getting competitive.
When he was finally able to wrap his head around everything and calm down, his demeanor changed on the dime, much like his personality can.
He softly took hold of your snout and held if close to his chest with his arms holding onto the underside of your head, something he likes to do even when you're in your normal form. For him, it's a show of trust, one he knew you'd understand.
A soft hum found its way out of your throat. He giggled at the affection.
You both took a rest and talked. It may have been a one-sided conversation, but he didn't mind.
He rambled on and on to fill the silence, accompanied with the occasional scratch under the chin.
There was a moment where he got jealous about how much bigger you were than him normally, let alone now. But, he soon got over it after thinking about how it must have just been natural since you weren't human.
"As much as I think it's unfair you can do all these cool things about how you look while I'm stuck like this, I'm still really happy that you opened up to me. I know what it's like to not be content with how you look, but we can do our own thing together!"
Sebek
Now, normally, Sebek is really respectful towards you. A byproduct from how he treats Malleus and how similar the two of you are.
Throughout the school year, it's taken some work, but you've gotten him to truly see you as a friend, not just another fae.
But, things did change a little bit after seeing your dragon form.
He's never seen Malleus's, because Malleus sees no use in taking his dragon form most of the time, so he didn't quite know what he was expecting to see from you.
When he watched a massive, spike covered, ice coated dragon walked out of the mist that practically came out of now where, he was honestly a little scared.
He remembered a story Lilia had told him and Silver once. It was about how once, when Malleus was young, he changed forms after throwing a temper-tantrum. After that, Sebek just started associating the idea with anger.
But, his time as a guard(and your friend) allowed him to be more observant than some. He saw every cue that would tell your current mood. There was no anger, only a calm curiosity. A curiosity towards him.
The idea of you watching him with the intention to see how he'd react embarrassed him. He turned his head to hide the reddening of his cheeks, but he didn't realize the red had crept up his ears and right into your watchful gaze.
You made a sound, one he didn't recognize, but it sounded faintly like laughter.
You were laughing at him!!!
He stomped a foot and grumbled under his breath, only causing you make more of the laughing sounds.
After that whole fiasco, Sebek finally felt comfortable enough to let down his guard.
His sharp hearing allowed him to quickly pick up on the different meanings of certain sounds, enough to have a semi-coherent conversation. He made sure to keep his voice quieter than usual, only being able to guess how sensitive your hearing may be right now.
Eventually, the interaction between the two of you fell into a comfortable and familiar conversation, like nothing was different about this scenario than usual.
"I really should be finding Waka-sama right now, but as Silver has told me, I may need to lighten up. So, we'll stay here for a while longer." His voice got just a bit quieter, "Thank you for showing me this."
And then the original note I put on Quotev after the chapter-
(Well, I think this set actually came out a lot better than I initially though it would. These five weren't as hard to write for as they usually are once I actually started soooo- YAY!!)
You can see the mindset change, wow.
44 notes · View notes
h2llish · 9 hours
Note
Your requests say semi open and I don’t know if this would count as a headcanon or not so I’m just gonna go for it,, but I read a Vil fic from you and you mentioned how he knows his dorm mates appetites and makes them a meal plan or something similar. I don’t know if that’s canon or not cause I haven’t played that far into the game yet but what if the reader is new to their dorm so Vil tries to figure out their appetite and likes just to realize he’s never actually seen you eat before, even in the cafeteria (maybe just drinks or smoothies from time to time). Not that the reader has a disorder, just that they forgot to eat, is too lazy to, just doesn’t want to eat at that time, mainly eats at night or can just go long hours before feeling hungry. Now I have read your rules but I don’t know if this would count as any mental illness/disorder, so if it does then you can just ignore this and go on with your day. But if this doesn’t then could Vil lowkey observe (or ig just ask) the reader to figure them out or maybe even gain feelings while doing so? Again you can just ignore this if you’re uncomfortable with it but thank you anyways
⁀➷ ˖ LACK OF APPETITE
notes ─── hello dear! it is actually canon that he creates routines and diets for his dormmates, it’s so sweet. anyways, sorry if this took too long but here you go! hope this is to your approval <3
VIL SCHOENHEIT ─── he does his best for all his dormmates, but you make it difficult. ♡ fluff mostly, gender neutral, mentions of not eating, lowercase intended, reader was in heartslabyul before they transferred, hints at feelings during the end
Tumblr media
vil liked to pride himself in his ability to help his dormmates become the best version of themselves. he was careful and observant ─ meticulous in how he created diets and routines that worked best for every person in his dorm. everyone had their own diet, their own skincare routine, it was different for everyone. vil would spend nights in his room or the commons, noting down what certain students could and couldn’t eat, adding in allergies and current medical status. he wanted everyone to be their best self and that started with a routine.
but not many knew about his late planning, how much effort he put into making sure his dormmates felt confident in who they were and were healthy while doing so. pomefiore dorm residents complained. vil didn’t often hear them but he knew, but he couldn’t be upset about it, they followed his advice either way ─ he didn’t care if they hated him in the process. 
everyone in his dorm had a routine, a diet, even the freshmen he had spent a few late nights working hard to create a fitting diet for. ─ well, everyone did, that is, until you, a junior recently transferred from heartslabyul, came to his dorm. vil did what he always did when it came to creating a diet for his dormmates. but after many nights of a lack of development in his notes about you, creating a diet for you proved, simply put, difficult. 
if vil hadn’t seen you bite into the occasional apple slices or drink a small smoothie every once in a while, he would almost be under the impression you didn’t eat at all ─ which is ridiculous, but one can’t blame him when he hardly sees you pick up food, even as you sit in the cafeteria, scrolling through your phone and sitting with trey and cater as they ate their own lunch. neither of them seemed fazed by your lack of lunch, hardly batting an eye when you joined them and began a conversation. even when you denied an apple from trey, they didn’t seem all that concerned.
vil can admit he was starting to grow concerned the longer he watched this lack of routine in your diet. this was not good for your health ─ not eating. although you didn't look to be lacking nutrition, that didn't do much to sway vil’s concern for one of pomefiore’s residents.
vil was not one to dwell, if he had a question then he would simply ask.
Tumblr media
that moment came after he had not seen you at dinner once more, despite you being one of the four in charge of dinner duty that night. ─ he asked the three dorm residents who were on cooking duty with you, and they shrugged, commenting that you said you “just weren’t all that hungry”. a repeating response you often give around breakfast and dinner time. ─ and vil thought it to be a good time to voice his concern with your lack of eating, so he began his way to your room.
“housewarden?” you asked with a bit of surprise, blinking at the actor who had just knocked on your door. you narrowed your eyes with confusion, and a little bit of concern, wondering if you had done something wrong, or if you had forgotten something. “is everything alright?”
vil nodded, quickly cutting to the chase of his visit before you could ask any more questions, “i have a concern, so if you could answer me truthfully, it would be appreciated.”
you blinked at him again, confusion visible in your expression as you repeated his words, “a concern?” you scratched your cheek awkwardly, releasing the hold you had on your bedroom door after opening it to his knocking before. “okay, sure.”
“[name],” he said your name rather sternly, “have you been eating properly?”
you let out a noise that sounded almost like a huh. you half expected this concern to be about your grades or school conduct (not that either were a cause for concern. you think). but to hear him ask about eating habits ─ wait, did he learn about the late nights you would sneak into the kitchen to make you food? you thought you were being careful! did rook find out? that hat wearing vice housewarden did always seem to know everything but would he snitch on you if he discovered your secret? trey was always more lenient back in heartslabyul, even when he would stumble upon you casually cooking a grilled cheese in the dark. perhaps you shouldn't have assumed rook would be the same (but trey also said he'd probably stay quiet if he did find you.)
“what do you mean?” you asked, hoping you weren't about to get in trouble for your late night snacking (snacking would really be an understatement, sometimes you'd cook yourself a complete meal).
“you’ve only been here for two weeks and yet you've skipped every breakfast and dinner, always with the same excuse.” he explained, to which you pursed your lips. “you also don't eat lunch, to my knowledge, even when you sit with your old dormmates. so, i ask again, are you eating properly?”
you were surprised, effectively caught off guard by your new housewardens confrontation. ─ “ah, shit.” you gasped, covering your mouth after the slip of the tongue, “i’m so sorry, housewarden.”
but vil didn't seem to bat an eye at your words, “if you struggle with food─.”
“it’s not like that!” you quickly interrupted him, before scrambling to apologize for doing so, “i’m sorry, but that's not it all.” 
your words gained you a look from vil that clearly held the question “then what is it?”. you sighed and your shoulders slumped ─ you never quite liked explaining your odd eating habits (or lack-there-of), because no one ever understood and always told you, you needed to stop. but it's not your fault!
but vil showed a concern, and you didn't want your eating habits to be mistaken for something more. ─ so you broke into a ramble of an explanation. 
“i do eat! swear., i actually think i eat pretty well!” you looked at your housewarden with an almost awkward grin, hoping that would be the end of it. but when that didn't seem to be a satisfactory answer for vil, you sighed and crossed your arms, and found yourself continuing into a familiar explanation.
"i don’t have a problem with eating. I’m just not usually hungry in the mornings so i just don't eat. but i do make myself food to have between my classes. but then i’m not hungry by lunch so i don't eat. and about dinner, i know i skip it, but i eat, just well, when everyone is asleep.” you scratched your cheek again, almost smiling embarrassingly as you added, “and uhm, well, sometimes, y’know, i forget.”
vil was silent for a moment, nodding slowly, “i see. i’m relieved to know you do eat.” you nodded and smiled at your new housewarden, but that smile faded when he looked back at you with a stern glare, “but, we do need to talk about this. it isn't very healthy.”
you frowned, “we do?”
Tumblr media
vil was relieved to know you did eat ─ although you lacked a routine, you at least weren't unhealthy by going without food. but he certainly didn't enjoy finding out that there were moments eating simply crossed your mind, and you went without doing so. nor was he happy when he learned you would spend nights sneaking around the dorm to cook yourself something to eat or take something from the fridge to quickly snack on.
with the news of your rather not-so-ideal eating habits, he brought up helping you create a proper routine (and with it, a healthy, more steady diet), offering to create a process that would help you build one slowly, to your own rhythm. 
and you did agree, although, maybe with some hesitance. ─ you have tried giving yourself a routine, knowing that your habits weren't so ideal (especially forgetting to eat until the clock struck two and you were hit by the empty grumble of your stomach). but you ultimately, always failed. 
and so that's how you found yourself with a written schedule, one that explained your choice breakfast. a choice to eat between classes so that you will at least have energy to eat lunch, as well as dinner choices if you don't eat what was made. none of them were extreme, you noticed ─ vil had truly taken into account everything you told him. ─ your lack of appetite in the morning being one.
“good morning, [name].” you were greeted by the actor upon entering the dining room of pomefiore, many of your fellow dorm residents already sitting at the table. “will you be joining us? there's apples and other fruits on the table.” ─ and on the table there was a bowl of selections between fruits, something small but food nonetheless. 
“oh, sure!” you smiled, following your housewarden as he led you to the others. ─ a first small step to the beginning of a routine.
it was not easy to get used to a new routine, one that changed with your progress. ─ two weeks in, you did sit with your dormmates at breakfast, but always chose to eat a fruit or something else that was small (and vil approved). you still lack an appetite in the morning, and you doubted that would change. and then there was lunch ─ there were times you didn't eat, simply forgetting to grab a lunch as you greeted your friends. and then come dinner time, it was similar to lunch, forgetting and moving on to your room to study or entertain yourself until vil came to get you with a sigh.
but vil seemed to understand, even offering to remind you if it ever seemed like you were going to forget to eat again. 
this all inevitably led to more time spent with your housewarden ─ more than you had ever spent with riddle back in heartslabyul. and you learned about vil much like he learned about you.
vil schoenheit was a man who enjoyed routine in terms of skin and diets ─ he wanted the best for those around them. he was concerned for you and your eating habits (or perhaps rather, lack of), so he did his best to help you ─ to help you make a healthier, less worrying habit of diet. 
“housewarden!” 
vil paused, turning away from rook, who he was just conversing with to face the familiar voice. you waved and smiled at vil and and pomefiore’s vice housewarden as you approached, just before stopping in front of them. 
“hello, [name].” vil greeted.
“are you guys going to the cafeteria?” a nod from vil only kept your grin on your face, “mind if i join you guys?” 
vil looked back at his friend, who obviously held no objections to the new addition to their duo, smiling an all too familiar smile. he turned back to you with another nod, “not at all.”
“great!” you almost skipped alongside him as the three of you set out for the cafeteria, with you and rook breaking into easy conversation.
you eventually turned away from the hat wearing eccentric and towards your housewarden, humming, “say, have you heard what the ghosts will be be having today?” 
“a most favored sandwhich is on the menu!” rook answered for vil, and you turned to him, blinking. “but i fear we may be too late to get one of our own.”
“awe,” you sighed, “that’s too bad, i kinda wanted a sandwich for lunch today. maybe they'll have other choices.” 
vil looked at you after your comment, and smiled, “you’ll be eating lunch today, [name]?”
“yeah! a sandwich, probably. what do you think?” you looked at vil with a smile that didn't hide your own pride in yourself. you were happy to have found an appetite for lunch, (and remembered too!).
“that's good. i’m sure they'll have good choices to choose from. they often do.” vil nodded, and you lit up at the praise in his words ─ and vil was proud, glad you were finally going to eat something that wasn't just a smoothie and an apple. ─ you were making progress.
perhaps he'll have a sandwich as well.
Tumblr media
this was fun and relatable. i forget to eat or just don't eat at a time one would think you should. or just lack an appetite. i need vil </3
sorry if there's any mistakes. i proofread this late at night.
Tumblr media
do not repost, translate, copy or run my writing through an ai
38 notes · View notes
orcasoul · 1 day
Text
I'll Come Back For You
Summery: Letting go is hard to do for both of you. But as they say, if you love someone, you have to let them go.
Warnings: Death, Grieving, Mention of Injury, Swearing, No Use of Y/N.
Italics indicate inward thinking.
Tumblr media
Joel sat on the porch swing, staring lovingly at how the late evening rays illuminated the varying deep shades of your hair, how it flowed down past your shoulders and blew gently in the summer breeze. God you're a work of art. He'd taken so much for granted before, but now, every time he casts his gaze upon you he savours each and every second.
The slope of your nose, the faint lines at the corners of your eyes, the few strands that have began to turn grey, even the way you hold yourself. If Joel had his way, these moments would never end. These are the moments when his life makes sense. Where he can breathe and just.... be. Where the gnarled roots of wretched sorrow and anger briefly release their strangling grip on his tormented soul.
In these precious moments, in your presence he can once again feel a spark of life ignite inside him, can almost feel the broken shards of his heart piecing themselves back together. He doesn't care how many times Tommy and Ellie have expressed their concern for his mental well being, or how they've begged him to open up to them and not shut them out. He doesn't need their pity or 'support'. You're all he needs.
"You're staring again," you chuckle, while turning to stare at Joel's warm eyes. A fond smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. "I'm sorry, I guess I am," he replies softly, but his tone is anything but apologetic. "I just can't help it. You're so beautiful." You smile sadly, looking down at Joel's hand. You reach over, instinct and love propelling you to take hold and lace your fingers with his.
But at the last moment, you stop and drop your hand to your lap. There was no need to look at Joel to know the anguish and longing written all over his face. Hell, you feel it too. The deep rooted need to feel each other's skin and warmth is overwhelming for you both. But it's no use. It can't happen now.
"So are you," you whisper affectionately. Your smile fades and Joel furrows his brow in confusion. "You've been awful quiet this evening, sweetheart. Something on your mind?" Joel asks, his voice laced with concern. You close your eyes and sigh. You don't want to answer. You don't want to have to do this, but it's for the best.
This cannot be ignored anymore. You refuse to sit by and watch the man you love retreat further and further into himself, downing in a sea of sorrow. As long as you are here, you are a painful reminder. You had hoped your presence would have helped Joel to come to terms with what happened, reassuring him that it was beyond his control.
There was nothing anyone could have done. But for all your efforts, you can see now that your being here means Joel is stuck in limbo. He needs to find a way forward, to find something to keep fighting for, and you fear that can't happen unless you give him the space grieve and heal.
"Joel...," your voice wobbles as you struggle against the lump in your throat. "It's time. You need to let me go. You have to allow yourself to move on." Joel's soulful brown eyes meet yours, glistening with unshed tears and you feel your heart breaking for him. 'I... I can't," his voice almost sounds pleading, "I can't do this without you."
He desperately wants to hold you, to keep you in his arms forever. He's never loved any woman the way he loves you. Love isn't a strong enough word to describe the depth of his devotion and affection for you. You are (were) his life, his joy, the very beat of his heart, a missing piece of his soul.
He can't do this, not again. How can he even put one foot in front of the other if you are not in step with him? Without you he will remain hollow, aimless, just a simple lifeform existing from one day to the next. You take a shuddering breath, hoping your next words can convince him.
"Yes, you can, baby. You're the strongest person I know. I know it will be hard and I'm sorry... "I"m so sorry it has to be like this-," "Don't," Joel cut you off gently, shaking his head, "You have nothing to apologise for," "Neither do you," you reply, matter of factly. Joel looked straight ahead, his jaw ticking as he tries to tamp down the anger festering away inside of him.
The self loathing he deserves for failing another person he loves. "I should have been there to protect you." "Oh Joel," you sigh, sadly, "How many times do I have to say it? We cannot control everything around us. You need to accept that life has it's own plan and what will happen, will happen. It's. Not. Your. Fault." You enunciate the last sentence with conviction, tears threatening to chock you at the obvious ruination haunting Joel's visage.
Even from his side profile the pain is clearly evident. A moment of silence follows, after which, Joel turns to face you, eyes redened, tears now trailing the curve of his cheeks. "I love you so much," his pained words are barely above a whisper, as if his grief is physically crushing his windpipe. "And I love you. I always have," you reply softly as your own tears begin to fall.
You want nothing more than to comfort him, to take him in your arms and shield him from his suffering, to wipe his tears away and kiss his soft salt and pepper curls. But it's impossible and you feel so helpless, so useless.... and you hate that. How cruel its, to be so close and yet, so far away.
"And that's why...," you take a deep breath, your own sorrow weighing heavily on you with what you now have to do. "I have to go." Joel's eyes widen but before he can protest, you continue, "I'm sorry," the regret choking you is stifling, "I wanted to help you find a way through this, but I can see now that I'm doing more harm than good. You need to be able to mourn, Joel. And you need to accept the love and support of those around you. You still have family here and they want so desperately to help you, but you've pushed them away. I can't bare to see you wasting away like this."
Somewhere, deep down Joel knew that this time would come, he knew you couldn't stay here forever, but how the hell can he let you go? It would be like expecting him to live without breath in his lungs. "Please, y... you can't go..." Joel's voice wavered as he continued., "I... I can't lose you again, sweetheart." You try to reassure him with a gentle smile, "You'll never never truly lose me, darling."
A sad sigh escapes you, "But you will lose yourself if you continue down this path, and I won't let that happen. Ellie and Tommy are so worried about you. You need them, even if you don' realise it." "How am I supposed to live every day without you? I just...," Joel lets out a shaky breath, rubbing his hand over his face, "I Cant. I've lost too much. I can't do it again."
The defeat in Joel's voice, his eyes, his posture causes your gut to twist up. You want to stay, it's tearing you apart inside, feeling as though you're abandoning him in his hour of need. But staying would only make things worse in the long run. Sometimes you have to make difficult decisions for the greater good. It will be hard for him, but he still has so much to live for, so much love to give, even if he's blind to it right now.
"Joel," you began, voice gentle but firm, "You can. The Joel Miller I know can do anything he puts his mind too." A barely visible smile appears at one corner of Joel's mouth, but as soon as it appears, it's gone. "I want you to do something for me, darling," " anything!" Joel replies in earnest. If you could physically caress his cheek right now, you would. It feels so wrong to not be able to touch him. All you can do is shuffle closer and lean into his tired face.
"I want you to promise me that you'll keep going, that you'll allow yourself to feel everything you need to, and that you'll lean on your family. Promise me that you'll live the best life that you can for yourself, for them... and for me, please." Joel is lost for words. He's done a lot of bad things in his life, but he must have done something good at some point for the universe to bring you to him. He doesn't deserve the endless love and concern you continue to bestow upon him, even in death.
Your bright and hopeful eyes bring Joel a sense of clarity. This is the last thing he can do for you, the last thing you'll ever ask of him, and he will do it, for you. No matter how difficult it will be. He suddenly doesn't feel so lost and adrift anymore. You have given him a new purpose. He will honour your last request until his dying breath. After a few seconds of quiet contemplation, Joel whispers, "I promise."
You release a sigh of relief, a heavy weight lifted from your shoulders at Joel's reassurance. He'll be alright. "And I promise you, when the time comes, I'll come back for you. One day, we'll be together again. But I have to go now," you pause, trying to fight the tears that threaten to fall again, "I won't say goodbye, cause this isn't goodbye. It's see you later."
Joel swallows the sob trying to climb up his throat. His heart is screaming at him to beg you to stay, but he knows when your mind is made up, it's made up. And you've decided he needs this. As much as he can't fathom not seeing you again for god knows how long, he takes comfort in knowing this separation is temporary. He will hold you again, laugh with you again and spend eternity by your side.
"I love you," Joel sniffled, knowing this is it, woe burying itself deeper into his soul. "I love you too," you declare, devotedly. "see ya later?" The words leave Joel's lips as a hopeful question. "See ya later," you confirm lovingly, and with that you fade into the soft golden twilight.
6 Years Later...
Joel couldn't focus, his eyelids like lead and his body trembling. The voices around him seemed distant and muffled one second, then loud and sharp the next. Throbbing pain bloomed through his torso, exacerbated by each breath he took. "What do you mean there's nothing more you can do?" Was that Tommy? "You can't just give up on him!" Tommy shouted, his voice a mixture of anger and fear.
"I'm so sorry, but all we can do now is try to make him as comfortable as we can." Darkness encompassed Joel as the voices began to fade once more. When his eyes opened again, he's met with the grave faces of Ellie and Tommy. He tries to sit up but his limbs feel too heavy, even turning his head is a challenge, and the oppressive atmosphere shrouding the room tells Joel the situation is... bad.
"What-" "Shhh...," soothed Ellie with tears in her eyes. "You're in the hospital." Joel swallowed thickly, wincing as his body screamed in protest at the slightest movement. He slowly turned his head to see Tommy standing at the other side of his bed. His blotchy, tear streaked face caused Joel's stomach to twist up in knots. At that moment, it all came rushing back to him.
The ambush while on patrol with Tommy, the broken baseball bat protruding from him (again), Tommy heaving his battered body onto his own horse so he could keep him upright on the journey back. He's been in dire situations more times than he'd like to remember but this time it's... different, both Tommy and Ellie's sombre mien thickening the atmosphere as every second passes.
And that's when it dawned on Joel; This isn't just bad, this is something he won't come back from. "Tell me...," Joel mumbled, weakly. Tommy cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice even, "The uh... the doctor..," Tommy lowered his head, shaking it as if in disbelief. Normally, Joel would snap at Tommy to 'spit it out' whenever he fumbled his words, but not this time. Not when his baby brother is clearly struggling to keep it together.
Tommy sighed, lifting his gaze to meet Joel's. "The doctor said you have internal bleeding and uh... there's nothing more they can do." Nothing more they can do. The words echo loudly in Joel's ears. He's had many close calls over the years. He'd used up his nine lives a long time ago and now his number was up. Our luck had to run out sooner or later. Tess' last words return as a grim reminder of the fragility of life in this world.
A part of Joel always knew he'd meet his end sooner rather than later, but being faced with that reality now.... well, nothing could have ever truly prepared him for this moment, the finality of his tumultuous life. Joel remained still, staring up at the ceiling while it sank in, a barrage of emotions crashing over him, simultaneously; Fear of the unknown, worry for the family he'll leave behind, regret for so many past mistakes, but also... acceptance. After everything he feels unexpectedly ready.
He'd kept his promise to you everyday for the past six years. He'd rebuilt his fragile relationship with Ellie. It took many deep and uncomfortable conversations and he always gave her space when she needed it, but slowly the cracks disappeared and the two became closer than ever, he even became a doting grandpa to JJ and a devoted uncle to Dylan.
The past mistakes with Tommy could never truly be erased, but he and Tommy both came to realise that they couldn't and more importantly, didn't want to dwell on it anymore, even Maria had come to accept Joel and gave him a second chance to start over with no animosity between them. He'd done that for you, just as you'd asked of him. Everyday Joel had kept your memory alive as he'd lived the best life he could, and now he's reached the end.
"Joel...," Ellie's quivering voice broke through Joel's hazy mind. The woefulness behind her tears caused Joel's heart to clench. "Come here, kiddo," comforted Joel as he slowly lifted an arm to embrace his adopted daughter. Her warm tears fell onto his neck as he gently rubbed the back of her head. "It's...okay. It'll be okay," he gulped while trying to be strong for her. "How can it be okay? How will any of us be okay without you?" Ellie wept, voice shaking with each breath.
"You're strong and you h... have people who care about you. Don't make the sa... same mistake I did," Joel told her as he thought about how he spent so long pushing people away. "I love you," she breathed out quietly into his ear, and Joel closed his eyes, sighing in contentment. "I love you too, baby girl. You take good... care of JJ,... you hear me?" "I will," Ellie promised. Joel then looked to Tommy, who's head hung low in shame and remorse. "This is my fault," his jaw clenched in anger, the same way Joel's always does, "I'm so fucking sorry. I should have been quicker, should have killed that bastard sooner!"
"Hey...," Joel gently interrupted, "It's not your... fault. We were outnumbered." Tommy shook his head, seemingly unable to accept his failure. "Tommy," Joel began, in a no nonsense tone, causing his brothers' eyes to meet his own, "You got us out... of there and got us home. That's what... matters! So don't you dare b... blame yourself for th... this.
Tommy was speechless for a moment. He grabbed Joel's hand and asksed, "Who's gonna keep my ass in check around here now?" "I'm s...sure Maria has that covered...," it was becoming more difficult for Joel to talk, "and if not this one will do the job," he quipped, pointing to Ellie with a small chuckle but he immediately winced as shooting pains radiated around his lower abdomen. "Easy...," Tommy rested a comforting hand on Joel's shoulder.
As the hours wore on, Joel became weaker, his breathing more laboured. Medication helped to ease the worst of the pain, even though, at first he refused it, insisting that it was pointless to waste it on him. It was only after Ellie had begged him to take it, that he finally relented. Maria and Dina came to say a teary farewell but left the children with a babysitter, as Joel didn't want their last memories of him to be a bruised and bloodied man on his deathbed.
Day bled into night. Ellie and Tommy kept vigil at Joel's bedside while he slipped in and out of consciousness. Joel became even more breathless, his golden hue became pale and clammy. It wouldn't be long now. A sombre silence filled the air, holding more weight than any words could. But even if Joel wanted to speak, he found he suddenly lacked the strength to even open his mouth. An exhaustion he'd never experienced before swept over him like a warm blanket, along with a bone deep, desperate need to sleep. Just for a bit. I'll sleep just for a bit.
*****
"Joel?..." a warm hand on his cheek and a soft voice he'd know anywhere, resounded in his ears like a sweet melody. His eyes shot open and he gasped in shock as he took in the image of you standing beside him and... touching him! Maybe he's dreaming? "Hi, baby," you smiled down at him with tears in your eyes, stroking his patchy jaw, tenderly. "You're here," he sputtered in disbelief.
"I promise I'd come back for you," you replied soothingly. And that's when Joel knew without a doubt he's not dreaming. As if on instinct Joel reached for your hand, clasping it in his own, bringing it to his mouth and pressed his lips to your soft palm. "I missed you," he cried, unable to believe that the moment he's waited years for is finally upon him. How he missed your delicate touch.
He'd dreamed of your embrace every night for the past six years, and now at long last, it's real. Joel swung his legs over the side of the bed, pulling himself up, the absence of pain and the rejuvenation of his 'body', another confirmation of his new reality. Joel wastes no time pulling you into his broad chest and you wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face in the crook of his neck.
You breathe in his woodsy and coffee scent, while at the same time Joel's nose buries itself in your hair, slowly inhaling your scent, one hand splayed across your back and the other cupping the back of your head. Tears stream down both of your faces as years of longing and loneliness come to an end. Now only forever awaits. "I missed you too," you wept, "So much." "I did it, darling. I did it all for you, every day," Joel whispered into your ear. You pull back, enough to look into his eyes, eyes filled with relief and love.
Gently holding his cheek, you reply, "I know. And I'm so proud of you. Now you can rest, my love." As the tears begin to dry and emotions calm somewhat, Joel realises you two weren't the only one's crying. Turning around his heart sinks and chest tightens as he has to witness Tommy holding a sobbing Ellie, while his own tears silently fall. On the bed, Joel's body lies motionless, drained of colour but with a serene peace adorning his relaxed features.
He remains frozen to the spot, wide eyed until you slip your hand into his, giving him a supportive 'I'm here' squeeze. "They'll be okay." You smooth your other hand up and down his arm. "They have each other and their families. They'll take care of them. And when the time comes, we'll all be together again." Joel answers with a silent nod, squeezing your hand in return. You know Joel through and through, and you know that he's always taken it upon himself to care for and protect those he loves.
But now that responsibility is his his no more. It'll be hard for Joel to relinquish said responsibility, which has been the staple in his life, but he has faith in Tommy, knowing he'll look after Ellie. They're family, blood or not. He can rest in that knowledge. "Joel...," he brings his attention back to you, raising a quizzical eyebrow at the smile plastered across your face. "I brought someone with me. Someone who has been waiting a long time to see you again."
Realisation of whom you are referring to flashes across Joel's face, but before the name can pass his lips, he hears the sweetest, most perfect voice say the word he hasn't been called in over twenty years. "Dad...," With bated breath, Joel slowly turned around, his mind struggling to function properly. There she is! His baby girl, standing in front of him, just as beautiful as he'd remembered her.
"Sarah...," Joel whispered in awe, frozen to the spot where he stood. 'Hi, old man," she smiled as she closed the gap between them. Her close proximity snapped Joel out of his statue like stance, quickly pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly to his chest. "I missed you," she cried into his chest, while wrapping her arms around his waist. "I missed you too," Joel choked out, "It's okay baby girl, I'm here, I'm here," he comforted her as his own tears joined hers.
He tenderly drew her head back, cupping her face in his hands, his eyes absorbing every beautiful inch of her features; Her expressive eyes that has passed onto her, that killer smile he'd always thought of so fondly, the blush of pink that always tinted her cheeks. God how he'd missed her. "You're grey," Sarah teased through her tears, running her fingers through his soft curls.
Joel chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners with warmth and admiration. "Your beautiful." He pulls her in for another hug and turns his head to you. You are crying silent, happy tears for them both. Joel reaches out, silently beckoning you over. With his daughter under one arm and the woman he loves under the other, he now feels complete.
His post cordyceps life has led to this very moment, to be with the people he loves the most. Of course his heart aches at the thought of leaving Tommy and Ellie behind, but it won't be forever. You're right. It's his time to rest. Sarah takes his hand in hers, her thumb rubbing over the scars on his knuckles. "Let's go home," she said, softly, "We have much to talk about."
With one last glance over his shoulder and a nod of confirmation, Joel is ready. A bright mist hovers where a wall should be, a calm and quiet ambience emanating from within. Together, with linked hands the three of you slowly disappear as you walk through the veil into forever.
34 notes · View notes
2af-afterdark · 3 days
Text
The Cure That Ales You
Fandom: What in Hell is Bad? Content: Leviathan x gn!MC (you/your), dub/noncon A/N: You know, sometimes I want to be transported into the games I play because they are escapist fantasy for me, but, as an asexual, I am sometimes glad that I am not in WHB. MC is sex-happy and loves their situation (mostly) but… I just think of how awful it would be if they weren’t into sex or didn’t want to have sex with a particular person but they didn’t really have a choice in the matter since they literally need it to survive in Hell and refusal may either kill them or make them so ill they cannot keep their deal with Satan, which would kill Minhyeok. It’s kind of a shitty situation to be trapped in if you aren’t 100% up for sex with, well, anyone and everyone at any given time. So, you know. That’s what this fic kind of is. Consider this your warning. Word Count: 1003
Tumblr media
You closed your eyes as you cradled your face in your hands. The sensation of nausea flooded your head and left your legs uneasy beneath you. Your stomach twisted and turned and rolled over itself inside your body. The world spun and twirled in random patterns around you, shapes faded in and out of view, and colors blurred with smells and textures.
This was the sickness that came with having your energy depleted to the point of concern. It was like being a wet clay jar, left to dry under the harsh rays of the sun to crack and chip until it couldn’t hold anything inside of it. Hell itself was tearing you apart because it knew you didn't belong.
Once the sickness was too much to bear, you stumbled and collapsed. The ground did not catch you. Instead, you fell forward into something firm. Through your hazy vision, you could just barely make out Leviathan glaring at you from over his shoulder as you held yourself up using him as a cane.
“Who said you could touch me?” He asked rhetorically with murder in his tone.
Despite his obvious anger, you were grateful that he insisted on walking in front of you as he dragged you from place to place. It had unknowingly put him in the perfect position to catch you. 
“Sorry,” you mumbled as you tried to pick yourself back up.
Your efforts were for naught though, as attempting to push yourself up only had you stumbling anew.
No one – citizen or noble – ran to help you, despite your clear distress. If you had to guess, no one in Hades would dare to upset their envious lord by moving to assist you when it was clear that he was guiding you. Although, what he was really doing was dragging you along with him while you were in his kingdom because he still didn't trust to leave you alone.
You couldn’t see it through your blurry vision, but the judgment radiating from his stare burned holes through the very soul that felt like it was being torn apart inside of you.
He huffed in annoyance. “If you're low on energy, say so.”
You shook your head, regretting the decision immediately as a new wave of nausea overcame you.
“I’m fine.”
It was an obvious lie, but you could make it true. All you needed was to get back to Gehenna or Tartaros and one of the devils there would take care of you. Gehenna was home to the friendliest devils you knew whereas Tartaros’ residents were so devoted that sex with them was filled with laughter and smiles as well as pleasure.
“Do you think that because humans can lie in a way devils can't it means you can lie so blatantly?”
“No. I just-”
You couldn't finish your statement as Leviathan grabbed you around your hip and pulled you closer. If it was anyone but him, the gesture would also feel romantic. The one grabbing you was Leviathan though, so you knew his actions were about pulling you around and controlling you.
“I'm sorry. I’ll see someone to get energy.”
You weakly pushed against him but it did nothing.
“You don't need to go to anyone else. I'm already here.” His other hand snaked up your neck, gripping it tightly. “Bring us to your room.”
“I don't want-”
“What you want is irrelevant.” His coffin appeared out of the ground behind him. “We can go here if you prefer.”
It wasn't a genuine offer. Even in your inebriated state, you could tell that his words were a threat. Either you brought him to your special place – the illusionary realm given to you out of kindness by Satan that also served to remind you of why you fought so hard in Hell – or he would drag you into the same coffin that he had nearly locked you away in forever when you first met him.
Through your hazy mind, you brought him to your illusionary room. If you had to be brought somewhere, you would rather it be somewhere you were comfortable. His coffin was only filled with bad memories.
The pillow was soft beneath your head, though it offered no solace in your current state. Even lying on your back, it felt like you were going to fall through the bed and crash to the ground.
Unlike when you invited others to this space, you were careful to keep your clothing on. This wasn’t a passionate love affair or even a fun tumble in the sheets. The only way you could think of Leviathan was as bitter medicine.
Everything that happened – the hand that clawed down your torso to tear open your shirt and expose your chest, the knee that nestled itself between your legs to force them apart, his grip that tightened around your wrists and guided your hand to his throat – blurred together. You tightened your grip around his throat, trying to push against him to push him away from you. Even in your sickened state – feeling like you were being torn apart – you didn’t want him. 
The haze in your mind was only matched by that in his eyes as you began to choke him. That expression reminded you of what he had said only moments earlier.
What you want is irrelevant.
He was terrible to know that he was right. No matter how much you protested, you were currently in a state that could generously be described as dying. Leviathan was the only one with you – although you could assume that Foras had been nearby as always. Whether you liked him or not, whether you wanted him or someone else, Leviathan was the only option you had if you wanted to get better; if you wanted to have the strength to keep your promise and free the devils of Hell.
So you turned your head to try and stare at the wallpaper you knew all too well to remind yourself why you were here at all.
31 notes · View notes
meetinginsamarra · 2 days
Text
mayprompts2024, #27 jealousy
Tumblr media
Chapters 1 to 3 here on AO3
If you like the tattoo AU give it some love on my AO3, please. It would mean a lot to me. TYSM!
+++++
White Pony Tattoo - Part Seven (jealousy)
When both of them had calmed down from all the laughter, Sherlock clapped his hands on his thighs and leant forward in his chair.
“Let’s talk about your cover-up.”
“Please, do.” John fixed all of his attention on Sherlock.
“First of all, whose idea was it to get a tattoo?”
“Oh, that was me. I wanted something of her to last. Something to show how serious it was for me, our marriage. You know, til death do us part, kind of.”
Sherlock hummed but was clearly not impressed by this reason.
“And whose idea was it to put her face on a Virgin Mary image? She has not actually been a virgin when you’ve met, right?”
“Well, no.” John blushed. “It was her idea. Because, you know, her first name was Mary and she thought it was a great...” John trailed off, sighing then looking at Sherlock who thankfully kept his mouth shut but was slowly turning his head in an unmistakable “no”.
Defensively, John added, “It wasn’t, in hindsight, okay?”
“It’s never been right from the start.”
John rolled his eyes. “You just needed to say it out loud, didn’t you?”
“She proposed that you tattoo her face on your arm to make a statement. A clear mark that you’ve been taken, by her. She wanted that the other women and men,” Sherlock winked knowingly at John who merely snorted, “become jealous of her. Look at my prize! It’s mine and mine alone! Possessive behaviour at its best.”
Again, in hindsight, that makes so much sense. John thought ruefully.
Sherlock continued, ignoring the distressed expression on John’s face.
“At least, your tattooist has done quite a good job, technically. No blurring, no wonky lines, no blotchy shading. Good placement of the design, too. Matching the natural contours of your upper arm. Which makes a cover-up much easier.”
“Good. I really want to get rid of this.”
Sherlock stood up. “Come on, John. I’ll explain my process to you.” He opened the purple curtain, holding it open for John to pass through into the room behind.
It housed the actual tattoo studio. The first thing John noticed was that everything in this room was high-end.
The recliner seat for the clients, the worktable with Sherlock’s tools, shelves with bottles of ink, needles and at least five different tattoo guns. Everything was also clinically clean. One corner of the room was occupied by a tiny but professional photo studio, including spotlights and an expensive looking camera on a tripod. There was another worktable with a state-of-the-art computer setup.
“Take off your jumper and stand in front of the camera. This is a special camera with a 3D software. It’ll scan your arm and every line of the tattoo in high-res and send the data to an image generating software on my computer. This way, I can design the perfect phoenix for you, one that will match and cover or even use the lines you already have without any optical distortion.”
“Wow, that’s, Jesus, that is quite elaborate.” John gaped. “All this for a cover-up?”
“No, it’s what I do with all of my clients. It’s the only way to achieve the perfection I desire.”
“Brilliant.” John looked at Sherlock, full of awe. “Extraordinary.”
Sherlock blinked. “Really?”
“Of course, all the effort you put into this!”
Sherlock ruffled his curls, obviously abashed. He turned his head to hide the pinkish blush that had started to spread on his sharp cheekbones and mumbled something unintelligible while he rummaged uselessly around in a drawer.
But John had already seen it.
For all of his aggressive seductive behaviour, could it be that he gets shy when someone genuinely praises and appreciates his process? John mused. A bit ‘all bark but no bite’ under this self-assured demeanour and abrasive personality? I’d really like to to have a photo of this blushing Sherlock, it’s adorable.
The next ten minutes went by in silence, only interrupted when Sherlock told John how to turn and place his arm in front of the camera.
“How long will it take until you’ve got the final design?”
“At least a week. The next days are packed with clients. Also, there’s something else to my process, about creating the perfect ink which takes some time as well.”
John was struck by another question. One that John had not yet thought to ask which might possibly come across as pretty stupid now.
“Erm, we haven’t talked about what you charge for all of this.” Can I even afford this? Him?
“Oh, silly me!” Sherlock exclaimed theatrically. “I forgot to mention that you have to sign a contract in blood and sell your soul.”
“Dork!” John playfully punched Sherlock against the shoulder. “Don’t pull my leg.”
“Ah, don’t look so frightened, John. You can afford my services. I charge my clients depending on their wealth, you know? I helped a disfigured young man for the price of a bottle of ink and I had a rich investment banker pay me 600 pounds an hour. I’m not going to rob you blind.”
“Ta.” Relief flooded John, then he remembered Sherlock’s last remark. “What’s that about the ink?”
“Yes, right.” Sherlock’s voice got excited. “Do you want to see something really special? A secret?”
“Oh, God, yes.”
++++++
tagging some people @totallysilvergirl @peageetibbs @lisbeth-kk  @raina-at  @calaisreno
37 notes · View notes