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#even if it was just part of the piece - It was amazing to see take apart the scene and rebuild it!
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Steel Here
(Boothill x Fem!Reader)
cw-: Body dysmorphia, slight talks of hating themself, other than that fluff fluff
🎀 authorsnote: Rn I'm feeling like my body isn't great so I used this fic to sort of get it out! And it actually felt great!
please don't steal my work!
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Boothill’s quietly sitting in his room that you begged him to have on The Astral Express. As his girlfriend you've been trying to get him to stay around more and he adores it.
But it also gives him more time to really think...and he doesn't know if he likes that part.
Ok...he hates it. He hates that fact that he has to see himself when he passes a mirror, he hates it when he feels his cool steel against his face, he hates how he can't feel your hugs...
Boothill stands and looks in the mirror, flexing his mechanical arms softly and glancing over his fake abs. He shakes his left metal leg and sighs.
He hears the small mechanical noise of his bedroom door and looks over to it. He smiles softly as he sees you.
“Hey sweet thang...” He shoots you a warm smirk, trying to cover up what he was doing as he quickly sits on his bed. You glance over at the mirror and back to him. Piecing it in your mind what exactly he was doing. “What do ya need hon...?”
You're silent as he asks. No response as you just blink. Your eyes communicate to him that you want him to tell you what you saw.
Your boyfriend sighs a little. Placing his head in his hands and closing his eyes.
“Don't gimme that look...” He breathes, obviously frustrated as he looks back up at you, “Fine...I'm startin' to wish I was me again...I don't want this body anymor'.”
"Oh honey..." You whisper softly as you sit next to him on the bed. You place a hand on his back but remember he won't even be able to feel it...
“See...now would ya look at that...?” Boothills voice drawls, he places a hand on your thigh and sighs as you shiver at the cold metal. “I...guess this is ma' life now..." He scoffs softly. "Can't even curse...it's all 'muddle fudger' this and 'fork that' and 'son of a nice lady'..."
"Boothill sweetheart..." You whisper as you lean against him. "Don't say that..."
Boothill hesitates on resting his temple against your head, he doesn’t need his body reminding him that part of his ridiculous body is only metal.
But he doesn’t know what else to do to comfort himself. He’s frustrated to the moon and back, frustrated at being in this body he doesn’t want.
“I don’t think you understand, darlin’” Boothill whispers. “I miss the me I once was. I just… don’t feel quite like myself anymore…”
"You're still...my Boothill..." You pull away gently and grasp his cheek.
The corner of his lips quirk upwards at your words, but the warm touch and caress of your hand on his cheek still doesn’t feel the same. He wishes of his could feel the same kind of texture he once thrived from and took for granted in his human skin...not just his face.
It’s almost...cold to him.
“You’re the only one who can remind me of the old me that’s still lyin’ somewhere underneath this piece’o’junk body.” He murmurs.
"It's not a piece'o'junk..." You imitate him with a smile. "Boothill... you're amazing just the way you are..."
There you go smiling. If there’s anything that’s capable of changing his mood for the better, it’s you.
Boothill gives you a chuckle. “Look who’s sweet talkin’ who now,” his voice is a bit more lighthearted than previously. “You’ve gotta stop bein’ like this darlin’. You’re gonna make me blush.”
You smile softly and kiss his cheek. "Honey...look at me..." You take his face in your hands. "I love you..."
Boothill smiles, feeling your lips press against his cheek. His hands find their way to your wrists, gently caressing them and wishing he could feel your skin. He knows it's definitely a lot warmer than the cold of his steel.
“You’re a real charmer, y’know that?” He says, his voice low and amused. “I don’t reckon I can look anywhere else when ya say things like that.”
"Now...how can we make you feel better?" You hum softly in his ear.
“You have no idea how bad I want that...” Boothill replies with a grin. He pulls your face closer to his and whispers into your ear. “But you’ve got to keep those sweet words of yours comin’.” Boothill’s voice is low and seductive. “I’m starvin’ here, darlin’.”
"Pamper Queen tonight aren't we?" You laugh, placing your hand on his chest.
“Only for my darlin’.” He teases, placing a hand over yours and gently rubbing his thumb against your skin. Boothill’s other hand caresses your cheek. “Let’s be frank; you’ve gotten me spoiled rotten, and I ain’t mad about it.”
Your face contorts into a look of pure thought. "Here...since you give me massages sometimes..." You get up and walk over to his closet.
Boothill’s curious as his gaze follow your movements, hands resting on the arm rest. He wonders if you’re looking for something specific.
“Whatcha lookin’ for, darlin’?” He asks, tilting his head to rest his cheek on his metal palm, fingers pressed against his chin.
"How about we polish your metal?" You pull out some wax and a waxing machine.
Boothill’s expression changes into something resembling a mix of disbelief and shock, then into amusement as he bursts into laughter. He had an expectation for what you were going to do, but this wasn’t it.
“Is that a euphemism for something I’m not gettin’?" He jokes, his laughter trailing into a playful smirk as he watches you closely.
"Well...I don't know the equivalent of a massage for cyborgs!" You whine playfully.
Boothill chuckles as he playfully rolls his eyes at you. “Oh, I’m certain a few people out there would call this ‘metal maintenance’ or something.”
He then rises to his feet. “And I wouldn’t mind havin’ ya give me a good ol’ metal maintenance, darlin’. But I hope you know I’m ticklish in some spots.”
"How are you ticklish..." You murmur and plug it into the wall.
Boothill chuckles again, crossing his arms as he gazes down at the metal machine in your hands. “I’m ticklish ‘round my neck and behind my knee, believe it or not. I ain’t kiddin’.”
He walks over to you and stands before you, a grin spreading on his face. “I’ve got a feelin’ you’re gonna use this as a weapon against me, aren’t ya?”
"Phantom tickles on the knee I guess..." You hum and fire it up. "And it's NOT a weapon..."
“Aww, shoot… and here I was, thinkin’ you’d give me a break.” He quips, shrugging his shoulder and letting out a small chuckle.
In truth, Boothill is a little excited for you to polish him. “How are you at polishin’ machines, darlin’? Cause it ain’t gonna be clean if you don’t know what you’re doin’...” He teases as he glances at the polishing machine, then back at you.
You hesitate and cough. "I'm...great?" You quickly get to work before he can question anything.
Boothill raises a brow as he eyes you with a small, amused smirk. He has a feeling you're definitely not good with these machines.
“I’m sure ya are.” He teases, a small, playful chuckle falling from his lips.
While Boothill initially stands still, he can’t help but feel a little ticklish as he can feel the machine polish the outer surface of his thigh. “Careful with that…”
You giggle softly as you keep polishing his metal body. You slide up to his neck and carefully polish it.
A soft, amused chuckle leaves Boothill as he can’t help it. Your gentle polish on his neck is a little ticklish, which causes him to tense up from the sensation. He’d definitely describe it as ticklishness. He rests a hand on the back of your head as you polish his neck, caressing the underside of his fingers against your skin.
“Oh, what a sight to see. I’ve got my pretty lady polishin’ me to perfection.” He teases.
"D-Don't distract me or I'll move!" You whine.
“Distract you?” Boothill murmurs, his lips tilting into a small smirk. “I’m just complimentin' you.”
He gently moves your chin with a finger, guiding it to meet his gaze as he gazes down at you. “And don’t move. I like the way your beautiful eyes look when you’re focused on me.” A tease disguised as a compliment.
You freeze as your heart pounds in your chest...which was not the best move because the polisher slides right off him and shoots at the wall.
A small gasp leaves Boothill when he watches the polisher slide off him. But then he bursts into a hearty chuckle, his hands resting on his waist. His eyes are closed while he laughs, and when he’s done, he glances at the wall where the polisher’s been launched into.
“That wall didn’t do nothin’ to deserve that, darlin’...“ He teases through stifled giggles.
"Y-Yeah well...you distracted me!" You whine before sitting in his lap.
Boothill pulls you onto his lap and rests his chin on your shoulder, his arms naturally wrapping around your waist. As you lean against him, he can see the machine embedded into the wall from the corner of his eye. He shakes his head and laughs again.
“You’re a feisty one, aren’t ya?” He teases, nuzzling his face to the crook of your neck and trailing his lips against your skin.
"It's not like I did it on purpose..." You mutter into his hair.
Boothill lets out another chuckle, feeling the warmth of your breath against his head. “I know you didn’t.” He murmurs, letting out a low sigh that’s a mix of contentment and relief.
He gently presses his cheek to the top of your head, his fingers gently rubbing your waist. “I’m just teasin’ ya, darlin’. You wouldn’t hurt a fly. ‘Sides, look at the bright side.” He adds. “At least the machine didn’t land on my toes.”
"You don't even have toes!" You blink and roll your eyes.
Boothill’s expression turns into a grin as he laughs, pulling you closer to him. “See? Told ya you’re the feisty one.” He teases, tilting his head to kiss your temple. He places another kiss on the top of your head, savoring the feeling of your warmth against his.
“Maybe I don’t have toes.” He begins, placing another kiss on your cheek. “But this body’s got everything else ya need.”
"See that's my Boothill..." You smile warmly. "Don't think of yourself the way you were before...and if you do...let me know?" You whisper.
As he hears your words, a soft smile forms on Boothill's face. He places a hand on your cheek, gently stroking the side of your face as his other rests on your waist.
His eyes look deep into yours with affection, and a corner of his lips quirks upwards. “That's a mighty good offer ya’re givin’ me here, darlin’. But I’d rather you stop me from thinkin’ like that before I could.”
"Now that is a better plan..." You smile before leaning in to kiss him.
Boothill’s eyes flutter to a close as your lips press against his, a warm fluttering feeling erupting in his chest. The kiss is slow and tender, and he melts against your touch as he pulls you a little closer and into his embrace.
Once the kiss ends, Boothill opens his eyes and sighs, feeling calmer and a lot more pleasant than before.
“You’re way too good for this broken ol’ geezer.” He whispers affectionately.
"Boothill...honey... you're not even old!" You laugh softly and nuzzle against him.
Boothill lets out a low chuckle, his hand gently caressing your skin as he leans into your touch. "You sure about that, darlin'? I feel like a relic with all this metal on me."
He glances down at his metallic hand, flexing his fingers. Then, he looks back at you with a smile. “But as long as you’re tellin’ me otherwise, I guess I ain’t.”
"That's what I thought~" You press a kiss to his forehead.
A smirk spreads on Boothill’s face as he watches you kiss his forehead. He lifts a hand and gently caresses your face, his thumb rubbing your skin.
“Ain’t you a precious one?” He muses, his grin widening as he gazes at you. “I reckon I ain’t that old after all.” He adds, his teasing tone laced with an affectionate edge. “What gives you the right to be so adorable?”
"I'm your girlfriend, it's my job!" You smile warmly.
Once again, Boothill’s gaze falls into yours, and he feels a flutter in his chest at your words. He rests a hand on your waist, caressing your skin with the back of his cold metal fingers.
“You’re right,” he murmurs, a warm smile spreading on his face as he nods. His eyes lock with yours, and he lifts a hand to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.
“And I reckon you’re doin’ a real good job at it, darlin’...” He adds, his voice low, warm and affectionate.
"Y'know... I'm always going to be here..." You smile. "Hey, hey!" You start to giggle. "I'm 'steel' here..." You joke.
Boothill lets out a loud laugh, shaking his head as you throw in a joke. He takes your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours, lifting it to his lips and planting a kiss on your knuckles.
“You’re real clever,” he murmurs, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his smile grows wider. In all honesty, he appreciates the effort you’re putting into cheering him up.
“Ain’t a doubt in me that you’d always be here for me, darlin’.”
You kiss him one more time. This time more passionate and love infused. As you pull away you smile. "I'll always...be here..."
The unexpected passion in your kiss catches Boothill off guard and leaves him breathless. As you pull away, he lets out a low gasp, his grip on your hand tightening just a little.
When you declare your promise, he presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he lets the moment sink in. He feels a wave of warmth wash over him, and he whispers back.
“I’ll be here for you, too, darlin’...”
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🎀End🎀
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kyletogaz · 14 hours
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part one: the fall | cw: angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of sex
summary: your situationship? with kyle leaves you suffering
masterlist
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your day was going just fine until kyle showed up on your doorstep. you don’t know how long you stood at the door, unmoving, with your hand on the doorknob, while you try to decide if you should answer him or not.
go away, go away, go away, go the fuck away.
he doesn’t leave though. he knows you’re there, he always knows where you are. he could sniff you out like a goddamn dog if he wanted to. “open the door, sweetheart.” it’s the way he says it that makes you tense up. you know exactly what kyle means. open the door or i’ll open it for you.
with a scowl on your face, you unlock the door and yank it open. you’re surprised the shit doesn’t fly off the hinges with the amount of force you’ve used. “what the fuck do you want, kyle?”
kyle raises an eyebrow at your tone, before flashing you a smile that you wish to wipe from his face. “you don’t sound happy to see me, love.” the look of annoyance on your face doesn’t seem to bother him at all, he’s used to it by now.
you’re not happy to see him. he’s got you so worked up already, you have to supress the urge to slam the door in his face. and maybe you should have done just that, because before you can even get a word out, kyle is letting himself into your home. he brushes past you without a word, duffle on his shoulder, immediately making you regret opening the door for him in the first place.
“kyle, you can’t just—i don’t remember offering you an invitation to walk into my home,” you hiss at him angrily, before closing the door and locking it. when you turn to him, he’s standing there in your foyer with that stupid pretty face of his. “i’m gonna ask you again, and this time, i expect an answer. what do you want?”
as if you don’t already know what he wants.
kyle eyes the bare foot you tap impatiently against the floor for a second, before his eyes meets yours. “i needed to see you. i know you asked for space, but i’ve missed you, sweetheart,” he explains, while tugging his boots off and shedding his jacket, revealing those arms that have held you down while you got fucked six ways to sunday.
did you miss me or my pussy?
kyle’s words are as soft as his pretty brown eyes. it’s bullshit. you almost give in like you usually do, and that’s the problem. every time he tells you he misses you, you rip your chest open and carve out a piece of your heart for him to take. that’s all kyle ever does, is take. and you let him, because you love him, even when you know you deserve better than what he gives you.
“don’t call me that!” a deep frown settles on his face at your words, the harshness of your tone surprising him. you’ve never been this way with him before.
good, you think to yourself. he could act like everything was okay between the both of you if he wanted to. but you? you were done pretending. this arrangement was hurting you more than you cared to admit out loud. no labels. it was something you both agreed on. it was easy at first, with both of you coming and going as you please. and then it wasn’t. kyle started occupying your space longer than he should have, longer than you should have let him. it never bothered you, because you really enjoyed his company.
kyle was funny, pretty, sweet, a good soldier, and an amazing cook. whenever he was on leave, he would take you anywhere you wanted to go. he’d even introduced you to his sisters and the men he worked with. kyle was the type of man you’d take home to meet your family, with no hesitation. how could you not fall in love with someone like that?
but now, you really wish you hadn’t. you were almost at your breaking point, not knowing how much more of this you could take.
when kyle asks you what’s wrong, the words you should have spoken gets lodged in your throat. you just shake your head and shrug.
i can’t do this anymore. i’m in love with you and i want more than you’re willing to give. if i offer you another piece of my heart, i will be left with nothing.
“come here, darling.” your eyes fall shut at the sound of his voice because you can’t resist. you feel like a puppet on a fucking string when your body moves in his direction.
when you’re finally in kyle’s arms, your face buried in his chest, as you will the ache in your heart to go away, he strikes. kyle tips your head up and pulls you into a bruising kiss. you clutch at his forearms to keep yourself grounded while you moan into his mouth. he has every intention on making you forget why you’re mad at him. it isn’t until he’s got his tongue in your mouth, and his hands are gently squeezing your ass, that you jerk away from him with a shake of your head.
“i can’t—we need to talk about this, kyle.”
“i promise we’ll talk later. i need you right now,” he murmurs as he closes the distance between you two. you open your mouth to argue, but it’s no use. he tilts his head to the side as he studies you. “did you miss me?”
kyle’s been gone for almost a month and the calls between you two had been limited. anytime you tried to approach the subject of your relationship, or lack of one, you never accomplished anything. derailment was kyle’s favorite tactic. and when you couldn’t take it anymore, you gave him an excuse to get him off the phone, so he couldn’t hear you cry.
“no.” you hate how the lie spills from your lips and travels to kyle’s ears, because you wish it were true. you hate the way he laughs, low and soft, because he knows it’s a lie.
you hate the way his eyes darken as he drinks you in. “lying? i thought we promised each other we would always tell the truth.”
you’re glaring at kyle before you can even stop yourself. you’re about to open your mouth to tell him where he could shove his promises, when you see him turn away and head straight down the hallway. you stand there, helplessly, as kyle waits for you to follow. you should stand your ground. you’re better than that. but it feels like he’s tugging on an invisible cord that connects the both of you, so whether you want to or not, you follow him anyway.
and when you wake up the next morning, to kyle’s absence and an apology text, you come to the realization that you only have yourself to blame. kyle wasn’t yours to keep. you should have kept your word. you never should have broken the promise you made to yourself. and it’s too late, you can’t take anything back. you can’t erase the way kyle had you pressed into the mattress the night before, with your legs over his shoulders while he buried his tongue between your slick folds. or the way he drove his cock in and out of your pussy while your pleasure filled cries bounced off the walls of your bedroom.
the only thing you can do is weep as you sit on the edge of your bed, with your head bowed and shoulders slumped.
you should have known better.
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a/n: i’m so sorry. also that line in the beginning about him always knowing where you are….yeah :)
get ready for kyle to suffer in part two hehe
thanks for reading! comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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dwcmarshalarts · 2 days
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I adore your style and content - I’m considering doing masters studies of some of your pieces just to try it out, but I’m still fairly new to art. I was curious if there’s any part of your process or any particular advice you’d have?
Gave this answer before to someone who asked me the same question, and I think it still counts! 1) Build stamina. You can do this by drawing often- and with intention. Start your drawing with a warm up- something light, not overly serious. Focus more on the literal mechanical feeling of your hand moving to draw. Then focus on the heavier stuff after you’ve both literally and mentally warmed up, setting the stage for more involved drawing. Make this a routine and drawing overall will be less tiring over time.
2) Focus on replicability, not detail. This goes hand in hand with the previous point. A lot of people develop a kind of perfectionism early on, where they get overly attached to a specific sketch and don’t wanna budge from it, and put details until it “looks good,” even when the subject as a whole is wonky. I like to equate this to “too much icing, not enough cake,” or “building on sand foundations.” I’ve been there before, and it can hold you back. Instead of focusing on a specific piece and how you rendered it that one time, focus on how you render it such that you could do something similar, easily replicate the concept. Once you’ve built more stamina, you can open up the gates to tackling the same subject matter in different ways.
3) Mind your mark making. Some folks agonize over the tiniest detail, sometimes for hours. At the end of the day, that itself doesn’t necessarily bring improvement- that’s more of a test of patience. Unless someone specifically asks, you don’t- for example- need to draw every single ridge of every knob on a switchboard in great detail. These things can be implied through mark making. Remember, a lot of drawing isn’t about literally making something for people to see- it’s tricking the eye into believing what’s drawn is actually there. You’ll be amazed at what detail can be like even when you don’t define every part.
4) Drawing is more seeing than “making it up.” * Don’t be afraid to use references and such. It’ll help you render form than imagining it- sometimes the imagination can conjure things incorrectly. *Even seasoned artists who don’t typically use too much references need to do studies from life or books every now and then to reinforce skills.
One point I didn't add before for style things specifically is: 5) Look where the artist got their inspirations from if you want to learn from them. No art exists within a vaccuum, everyone has their influences. Trying to do a study from someone's art will only take you so far- because then it'll feel more like mimicry than actual, learned study. Research or try to see parallels with artists that you might think had a hand in influencing a given artist's style. Notice the patterns there- certain textures are invoked here, this form was defined like this, etc. A lot of folks confuse wanting "more of a thing" as opposed to "what makes that thing desirable/unique." If you'd like to know where some of my influences come from, I'd say look at the works of Squiddy, covers for Hellboy comics, and the Snowpiercer graphic novel.
Addendum: If you're looking to draw anatomy specifically- study from real anatomy, and learn how to do those before you begin to "break the rules" (exaggerate, anthropomorphize, etc). For resources on that, I'd recommend the Morpho books (all of them haha) and Dynamic Human Anatomy by Roberto Osti.
Hope this helps somewhat, feel free to ask if I missed anything.
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tobiasdrake · 1 day
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What are your opinions on Paikuhan/Pikkon, as well as the Other World Tournament arc more generally?
Could have stood to be longer. Five episodes doesn't seem like nearly enough to get an entire tournament arc over and done with, but it can be enough episodes when there are very few characters to be invested in.
The Anoyoichi Budokai or "Strongest in the Other World Martial Arts Tournament" is an interesting premise held back by a lack of substantively interesting characters to fill a tournament roster. What makes tournament arcs work is getting to see various members of the cast given their moment in the spotlight. However, in the Anoyoichi Budokai, there are only two characters of any interest: Goku and Paikuhan.
Having only two interesting characters creates a problem for a tournament arc. It means the final round is the only match of any interest. The rest of the time is spent waiting for the plot to reach the interesting stuff. At that point, you'd be better off having Goku and Paikuhan slug it out in an exhibition match.
For his part, Paikuhan's introduction is a little janky. They wanted to do the "Meet the new antagonist, he makes the old antagonist look like a joke," bit to puff him up. So we get this?
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Every arc has its ups and its downs. This is the weakest point of the Anoyoichi Budokai by far. This is peak "Toei doesn't understand Dragon Ball".
So, despite the fact that you don't keep your body in the afterlife without special dispensation from a sponsoring god, Frieza, Cell, and the Ginyus all have their bodies and are able to use their tremendous power to take over Jigoku.
The Ginyus, at least, were excused in a previous filler episode. Kaio sponsored them, allowing them to keep their bodies so he could use them to train the Earthlings. That episode had its own issues, mind. But at least it's there. No such explanation has been offered for who gave Frieza, Cold, and Cell their bodies back.
Toei just. Really likes this premise of all the old villains still being tremendously powerful and being able to revolt from Hell, even though the metaphysics are designed with built-in explanation for why that can't happen. Toei did it here, they did it in the movie Fusion Reborn, and they did it in GT.
So, Goku and Paikuhan go to put down the Hell revolt and like.
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Goku wipes out the Ginyus while powered up in Super Saiyan yellow battle aura and Super Saiyan hair colored black for some reason. Not sure if this is a coloring error or what. Is he supposed to be Super Saiyan here or not? Doesn't seem like he'd need to be.
But then we get this reaction shot from Frieza and Cold.
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Staring in slack-jawed amazement. Goku defeated the Ginyus!? That's impossible! It staggers belief that Goku could be so powerful that he could do that to the Ginyu Force! How far must he have advanced since the last time Frieza saw him!?
Y'know. When Goku left Frieza in chunks on the turf of an exploding planet.
Toei.
What the fuck are we doing here. This bit in Jigoku is the absolute nadir of the arc.
Its main purpose is to set the stage for this moment.
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Paikuhan works over Cell like he's nothing.
If we're to assume that this is Super Perfect Cell at his full strength, then this is an intimidating yardstick moment for Paikuhan. Goku couldn't even take regular Perfect Cell. He doesn't have a snowball's chance in Hell, pardon the pun, of measuring up to Paikuhan in the ring.
Goku, of course, is thrilled by the opportunity to try. Paikuhan here is presented as a new mountain for Goku to climb. The next peak he can ascend to. Today, he met the new Always Someone Stronger Around the Next Corner.
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This, at least, Toei does get. This is classic Goku. He watches Paikuhan make short work of Cell and his takeaway is "Fuck yeah, I want a piece of that." Thankfully, Goku getting a piece of that is what the arc's actually about. Goku's in the afterlife for like an afternoon when the Kaios propose a tournament between their four galaxies.
Like I said before, most of the matches don't feel meaningful because we have no investment in any of the other competitors.
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This guy's based on Hercules and he's the closest thing to a third important character, in that he and Goku got to exchange words for a bit in this episode. He's here so we can be sad when Paikuhan kicks his ass.
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Oh no, Paikuhan defeated that one guy that was kinda nice and now he's out of the tournament. Sucks.
Goku, meanwhile, fights this caterpillar dude who tickles people.
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Who he beats by just kinda blasting him 'cause Goku's tremendously powerful so this ain't shit. It ends on a killer joke, though, as Caterpi enters a chrysalis so he can power up and transform into his ultimate battle form!
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Look, these things take a while, okay? Not everyone can just eat a spunky orphan and then POP, perfection. XD Ya got me, Toei, that was fucking gold. Caterpi is a nothing character but the punchline kills.
But other matches are stuff like this.
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Cool power bro but. Like. I do not know who these people are. Toei, I don't know who these people are. I legit could not care less what the outcome of this match is. I don't know why you made this a tournament.
What makes a fight interesting is not that the guy punches very hard and his ki blast is super big. We care about the fight because we're invested in the characters participating.
Only once in the history of the Tenkaichi Budokai did Toriyama ever make us sit through a match between two randos: Namu vs. Ranfan in the 21st. That was because he was developing one of those randos to be an emotional core for the arc; That fight was meant to serve as our introduction to Namu for a story that would reach its height when he fought Goku in the semifinal.
This isn't that. Half of the arc's third episode is spent waiting for things that matter to start happening again.
Goku's opponent in the semifinals is really cool, though.
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He's fighting a fish man with the power to summon water, forcing Goku into a bad position as he has to try and defend himself from Aqua while trying to avoid drowning. This is a really cool technique, setting up Aqua as an interesting and complicated opponent for Goku to have to navigate.
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Who he beats by just kinda blasting him 'cause Goku's tremendously powerful so this ain't shit. Gotta admit, Aqua's fight left me disappointed 'cause that was a perfect setup for some classic Goku analysis and counter-fighting. But nope. Goku just Power Levels through every match.
Goku's third fight is barely worth mentioning. He fights the purple lizard guy from that earlier rando match. Malaiko is just a big strong guy who hits really hard. Goku hits harder. It's mainly notable for this one moment.
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Where Goku momentarily loses track of Malaiko, and we see his eyes scanning back and forth as he tries to figure out where his opponent's gone.
Goku. Goku, you can sense ki. Goku, you are probably the universe's #1 master at ki sensing. You physically can't lose track of people like this. What are you doing?
He does find Malaiko and manage to sucker punch him before Malaiko can launch his attack. But I dunno. Goku needing to stop and try and figure out where his opponent vanished to for a couple seconds this late in the series feels wrong to me. This happens during the fight with Paikuhan too.
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Paikuhan dodges an attack so fast that he vanishes from sight and Goku has to spend a couple seconds looking for him, before Paikuhan announces himself and surprises Goku. Again: Goku can sense ki. What is this?
In any case, rando hits hard, Goku hits harder, and we get this moment of acknowledgement from Paikuhan.
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My dude, what are you talking about? We've been given no reason to believe that guy Goku just beat was supposed to be powerful beyond his abilities, nor has he had any opportunity to improve his skills since you met him like four hours ago. We have seen no meaningful improvement from Goku at any point in this tournament. Paikuhan's just saying words that sound like Dragon Ball things to say.
We move right along to the main event and what we're all actually here for: Goku finally steps into the ring with Paikuhan. From what we've seen of these two, Paikuhan should shitstomp Goku. What he did to Cell puts him leagues outside of Goku's capabilities.
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Yep.
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Yep.
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That's about right. Paikuhan dominates this match, as well he should based on how they set him up. His Hyper Tornado is neat, trapping his opponent in a vortex of razor-sharp air currents that cut him up. Most of the fight is Goku facing some new thing or another that Paikuhan's doing. Goku struggles to even land a hit on Paikuhan, with every exchange either leading to Paikuhan wasting Goku or Goku managing to pull it out and fight evenly before the next exchange wastes him.
Paikuhan is never on the back foot, while Goku always feels like he's at the end of his rope desperately trying to pull this out.
There's also a bit of Playing the Hits to this fight, as Paikuhan pulls the "Goku suddenly reveals he's wearing weighted clothes" bit from the 23rd Tenkaichi Budokai while Goku basically looks into the camera and calls him a knock-off Piccolo.
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Goku, you're not supposed to point out when the anime's being uncreative. That's my job. There's also one of Toei's favorite bits of anime choreography here.
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Toei really likes dramatic Super Saiyan transformations when a character's back is against the wall. In the movies, this gets really obnoxious and can feel like the characters are getting shitstomped on purpose. Like, we'll get prolonged sequences of Goku getting fucking shitstomped and we know he can just transform so it's like. Goku. Goku, why are you letting this happen to you?
This never happens in the manga. Saiyans go Super immediately as they step up to fight the bad guy. They only hold back when they have a reason to hold back, such as Trunks reserving his limit-breaker form because he's concealing it from Vegeta, or everyone agreeing at Gohan's behest to not go Super at the 25th Tenkaichi Budokai. Toei's action is all holding-back all the time, because it lets them drag fights out without having to come up with a valid reason for why the tide would suddenly turn at the critical moment.
But here, in this match, it works. For this first stage of the match, Goku and Paikuhan are both starting out small and testing each other's abilities. When Paikuhan decides to get serious, he takes off his weights. Goku repays him in kind by transforming. Goku was fighting Paikuhan at a level that matched what Paikuhan was giving him; now that Paikuhan is kicking things up a notch, Goku kicks things up to match.
This makes sense and feels true to character. Much moreso than, say, Vegeta letting Android 15 beat the shit out of him for several minutes because he loves the taste of fist in his mouth.
And then, of course, there's Goku's ultimate last resort unveiled here in this arc.
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Goku uses the Kaio-ken as a Super Saiyan. As ways to remix old abilities for new and creative attacks go, this is a neat idea. Though it does raise a shitton of questions. Like, if Goku can do this, why didn't he use it against Cell?
Funnily enough, Toei forgot they wrote this in Dragon Ball Super. The Z anime and all of its filler is canon to the Super anime, with Captain Ginyu's continued existence being the most obvious example of their connections.
Toei did this again with Blue Kaio-ken, while also offering a lore explanation that Super Saiyan Blue is the only Super Saiyan form that it's possible to use Kaio-ken with. Never before has Anime Goku ever been able to combine Kaio-ken with Super Saiyan, but he can now do it with Blue.
So I guess this never happened. XD That's just as well; It lasts for all of one punch and then he never does it again. I think it's just there for another Playing the Hits moment. Remember that time Goku hit Kaio-ken and then punched Vegeta really super hard? Good times, moving on.
The climax of this fight comes when Paikuhan unveils his inappropriately named Thunder Flash.
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"Thunder" in an attack name can generally mean one of two things: A powerful sonic crash or a fancy word for lightning. That. Um. That's fire. It's fire, Paikuhan. Do you know what thunder is? Because I don't think you do.
This is the best part of the entire tournament. Goku says this because characters are just saying Dragon Ball sounding words in this arc.
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Which is a funny thing to say when the climax of the fight is going to feature Goku capitalizing on the technique's clear and obvious vulnerabilities. That's right, Thunder Flash finally gives us a chance to see Counter-Fighter Goku in action again.
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Obviously, the technique's vulnerability is a) a super-long chargeup time where he has to do about as much random bullshit with his limbs as Recoome's Ultra FIghting Miracle Attack, followed by b) holding him in place while he fires it. Goku seizes on that second one; If the technique doesn't land, Paikuhan's set himself up for a brutal counterattack.
Goku can teleport. So he makes a brutal counterattack. Honestly, not sure why he didn't teleport out of the way the second time Paikuhan hit him with this. I can understand the first; He didn't know what was coming. But I don't know why it took until the third for him to come up with this. Evasive teleportation is not a new thing he just came up with today; He was doing it in his fight with Cell.
He says it took until the third Thunder Flash for him to first see Paikuhan's movements clearly.
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I believe that. What I have trouble with is that he stood there and let the attack hit him without even trying to evade it. Dodging's for suckers, I guess.
But, nitpicks aside, this is a fantastic triumph for Goku. The fight up to this point has clearly asserted Paikuhan's undeniable statblock superiority, which makes it all the more hype when Goku wins anyway by exploiting the holes in Paikuhan's technique. Paikuhan is stronger, but Goku outmaneuvers him at just the right moment, in just the right way to clinch a ring-out and claim victory.
A victory that speaks both to Goku's abilities as a counter-fighter and his general familiarity with the atmosphere of the tournament stage.
So, overall, the arc itself is janky as fuck but its centerpiece, the Paikuhan fight, is mostly solid. It takes too long to get to the good part and there's nagging bits of Toei Choreography here and there once the fight begins but most of the fight itself works.
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And it ends in a place that leaves Paikuhan and Goku both with much to learn. It's clear by the end of the match that Paikuhan is a stronger fighter while Goku is a better fighter. There are still mountains for both men to climb. This resolution feels true to the spirit of Dragon Ball and lets the Anoyoichi Budokai go out on a high note.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 5 months
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Would you mind if I drew this art in my style? (This is so beautiful, btw, it broke my heart!)
Permission is *always* granted to people wanting to do redraws! I am so touched you liked it enough!
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hauntingblue · 1 month
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Why do they say dragon is luffy's father but doesn't look much like him... I mean it is true but why point it out... in that way he doesn't look like garp either
#i thot we were gonna get baby luffy but no.... old man luffy.....#also the opening is so intense 'dreams save all of us' and the arc starts with luffys dream i might throw up#zoro and brook staying behind to protect them from the government.... yeah.... VEGAPUNK AND DRAGON??? ACTUALLY FLABBERGASTED#maybe vegapunk is part of the rev army but then he modified kuma on the behalf of the gov??? thats so cruel.....#talking tag#watching one piece#episode 1094#the fucking opening..... dream save all of us like okay damn it goes hard#incredible how they just take the hit from the laser.... minor injuries that's all... seraphim jinbe has mr pink's power???#how come sanji hasnt immediately jumped on the seraphim like god. and nami not being able to hurt children yeaaahhhh ROBIN GO OFF!!!#zoro conveniently being the only one who doesnt see the seraphim..... come on....#york what an icon i wish thay were my job too. eat shit sleep amazing#900 YEARS AGO???? EMPTY CENTURY TIME!!!!!!!! LETSGOOOOO D LORE D LORE D LORE#episode 1095#and that is IT for today. yesterday i watched like 5 today we are measured.#<- this is when you find out i stack episodes on my posts even if i dont watch them one after the other...#i am sensitive rn and the preview has ohara and robin crying i am not making it out of this one folks#YEAH YEHA THE KINGDOM (OF THE D I AM SURE) VS THE WORLD GOV usopp hitting his head against the floor akdjka#clover and noland have to be related the flora on head has to be genetic or smth#also now they showed lulusiq being obliterated we can assume imu was responsible for destroying this advanced kingdom right#THE BOOKS FROM OHARA MADE IT????!!!!! DRAGON IN OHARA??? THEY HAVE THEM??? BUT THEIR BASE BURNED????#luffy calling the robot robo ace. should i end it all rn be honest. and the robot turned on. nvm someone was in there#vegapunk meeting with luffy knowing dragon oof also ohara was in the west blue???? wow#episode 1096#that giant was the one in dressrosa??? hierjudin??? omg dragon without his tattoo... 33?? damn he is 55 now...#OMG JAGUAR D SAUL GIANT FROM ELBAF????? VEGAPUNK DIDNT JOIN THE REVILUTIONARIES??? SELL OUT!!!#dragon pacifist???? god this lore. sanji didnt know about ivasan??? the books are in elbaf... with saul.... omg.....robin ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️#jinbes face reacting to vegapunks fruit ajdjsjs did vegapunk cut off his head? is he stupid?? -luffy#vegapunk wants to make wikipedia.... omg lucci already too... the robot attacked marie geoise ✍️✍️✍️#episode 1097
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screampied · 6 months
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❛ SWEET TOOTH! ❜
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synopsis. geto's got a sweet tooth for his pretty partner in culinary arts. rumor has it gojo wants a taste too. the two chefs compete on which one can make you cream the most.
total wc. 5.8k
warnings. satosugu x fem!reader, college au, squirting, (geto) eats it from the back, double penetration, unprotected s*x, dumbfication, dirty talk, oral (fixation), overstim, them basically fighting over you.
an. wrote this bc…i'm hungry </3 random stsg brain rot lawl
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“you're a fine cook, you know?”
your eyebrows raised as both of your hands rested against the edge of the laminate-glassed counter.
taking off your toque to give geto direct eye contact, he continued to speak. “i still think your banana pudding was the best.”
“oh, thank you,” you mumbled, and geto stood tall - the size difference was truly immaculate.
broad shoulders yet a very much lean body.
he had his hands buried and dug into the holes of his pockets, flipping the apron near his white coat to the side before giving you a soft smile. “i wish i could have tried your desert, chef kept rushing everyone to clean up earlier.”
“you still can,” geto mutters, and you stare up at him. his voice was somewhat teasing but stoic.
his body language was simply suave…he leaned against the counter as he spoke before making a few inches towards you. his eyes trail down, and his thumb swiftly swipes against the side of your cheek—excess sweet cream of his infamous banana pudding. “it still has its flavor. vanilla, my personal favorite.”
he was so close to you, his body heat practically radiated against you, not literally though.
you were deep in thought as he was directly propped up beside you.
“may i…?”
he's got his dessert in hand, and it was a slice of vanilla cake—neatly decorated at the top with a cherry topping, just a good enough glance and your mouth is damn near watering. it’s decadent with sweet cream and icing, you nearly forgot how to speak.
“yeah.. yeah...yes please.”
you didn’t even realize how needy you sounded, just a few inches of your tongue and you’d be licking your lips.
geto cups a hand over your chin—his dark focused gaze, pretty lashes of his fluttering throughout each blink. he scoops a good amount from the stainless-steeled fork, and brings it towards your glimmering plump lips.
“open a little for me, pretty.”
his voice, it was a mere whisper…
as you parted your lips slightly for him to press the fork inside, the piece of cake now going onto your tongue—you couldn’t deny, just those words alone had you feeling a certain type of way. geto's eyes never left yours, in fact, the soft back of his thumb pad was continuously gently stroking the side of your mouth.
the taste of the cake, just amazing.
dramatic was a good enough word to depict for you because as soon as the icing slicked against your lips—the pure flavor, the sweet sweet vanilla mixed with a single dash of vanilla extract, the cavity-coated sugary taste, and oh… cinnamon.
“mhm…”
you paused, feeling a heatwave of utter embarrassment wash over you. you let off the most dirtiest moan imaginable. all from a taste of cake from geto. the smile remains on his near perfect crooked lips before he hums, placing the fork aside.
“you must really enjoy it, huh?”
even his chuckle was sexy, such bass in his voice was enough to have you soaked right underneath your formal kitchen attire—directly underneath your apron, he couldn’t see but your legs were squeezed shut together, tight.
“yeah, it’s um..good.”
“just…good?” he teases, his long gorgeous dark strands of hair was down…flawlessly dancing over his broad shoulders. some strands cutely poking through his own toque top-hat. his eyes were nearly fucking you on its own.
eyes half closed, seducing.
“ah wait. you have more icing on your mouth. tsk, you’re so messy...”
geto leans in, his thumb still strokes and strokes against your mouth before he leans in—and you nearly slip out a whine from his teasing he was. you were about to open your mouth before he raises his brows.
“just say it. i don’t have to use my fingers to clean your mouth, princess.”
just from those words alone was enough to have you dripping between your thighs, your hands gripped against the back edges of the counter before you spoke in a soft shaky voice. “…kiss me, suguru. please.”
“open.”
as soon as he leaned in to kiss you, you immediately moaned, feeling the slow and sensual swirly lick he made just from his tongue.
he laps up the tiny remnants of creamy icing that was just near the side of your mouth. only before focusing himself on your lips now, the kiss was tasty just like the ingredients of his cake.
geto's got one hand on your chin, another on your waist. you’re propped against the counter and he’s so warm…
you could taste the sweetness of his dessert on his tongue, he takes a few seconds to depart from your lips—dragging a tongue gently and slowly from your mouth to your neck.
“you taste so good.” he huffs out, his voice was low, creating kiss trails near your collarbone and you moaned before he went back up kiss you. geto’s strong manly cologne scent wafts against your nose as you tug on his chef cpat, desperate for more than just his sweet tongue.
“yo, suguru do we have anymore—”
the both of you broke away immensely at the sound of a familiar voice, no one another than gojo satoru.
great.
he’s got quite the look on his face, wearing loose sweatpants. his apron was half on and he looked insanely attractive even while dressed down.
a sudden smug grin appears on his face. “oh…!” he says dramatically, hands of his going right on his hips, “pft. is this why you didn’t wanna hang after culinary suguru? you decided finally gonna get laid?”
“shut up.” geto grunts, and his entire mood was ruined. you suddenly felt embarrassed, in such heat of a moment then gojo just had to show up.
“heh,” he snickers before walking towards you, and gojo’s so tall, the both of them are but he’s equivalent to a skyscraper.
he stares you down with pretty cerulean hued eyes, doing the same motion geto did.
a swift thumb strokes against your cheek and he speaks in an almost husk yet playful tone. “hmph. i wanted you first, shame sugu got the first taste. now that’s no fair.”
“…you both can have me.”
they both share the same nonplus expression at your blurted words—you didn’t even know where that came from, but at this point you didn’t care. geto already made a mess out of you, barely even doing anything but kissing you, and oh how wet you were between your legs.
seeing them both in front of you only continued to make you pulse and yearn for more.
“really?” they both say at the same time, in sync. you were already so hot and bothered by geto, you only could have imagined what it felt like being with the both of them.
you nodded, your impatience was wearing so thin.
gojo snakes a arm around your waist before geto grabs him, nudging him lightly. “not here, idiot. we can just go back to my dorm.”
…there, you laid flat on geto’s flat-sized mattress, gojo was directly next to you—a hand cupping your chin as his lips was pressed against yours.
he tasted sweet, your tongue curled against his and the flavor that coated him made you moan in his mouth. the forms of his lips curving into a smile pressed up against you. you felt it, and you moaned again feel geto kneel down to spread your legs open for him.
he took his time, geto’s warm lengthy fingers softly carressed your legs, slowly pulling down your formal jean attire, creating multiple kisses near your inner thighs, and his tongue…
gently dragging his tongue up your leg slowly until he reached your panties, pants halfway on he pulls them down fully before giving you a three second glance.
“feel how soaked she is, satoru.” geto murmurs.
“bet she is,” gojo snickers, and you whined once you felt him trail a hand down between yours legs to give your laced undergarments that were deeply soaked, a good enough squeeze. “hm. wonder who’s makin' her this wet,” and then he hums, bringing a kiss towards your collarbone before grinning—whispering underneath his breath, it fans against your chest and makes you shudder. “…obviously me.”
“don’t get too cocky,” geto rolls his eyes in vex, and you let off a soft whimper once you look down to see the long-haired man stare at you with a relaxed smile plastered on his face. his eyebrows raise just slightly before he gives you a subtle sexy head nod. “mind putting my hair into a ponytail, sweets?”
his voice was so low and attractive, each syllable he spoke throughout his words.
his pronunciation even was just so filthy, his entire demeanor. you were drenched between your pretty thighs to even fathom anything else.
“okay.” you mumbled, taking his thin hair tie, softly pulling a good amount of his soft strands, maneuvering your hands swiftly around before securing it in a tight yet loose ponytail.
“mm….thank you.” he says, and geto leans in to give the middle part of your panties a slow lick towards your legs twitch and you moan, going back against the bed before gojo starts to unclasp your culinary coat.
running his fingers against the thick fabric, he starts planting kisses everywhere around your mouth and neck—until he starts sucking against your skin. and gojo smells so good too, the both of them wore such strong cologne, but gojo’s scent was a bit more loud.
manly and sharp, it was intoxicating. each teasing suck gojo created against your neck, the soft foreplay licks geto made towards the very print of your panties.
just…fuck.
your head went back in rapture—pleasure, a hand making on the crown of geto’s head, giving his ponytail a light yank before whining. “just..eat me out please suguru. can’t take it anymore.”
“poor baby,” gojo fake pouts, and he makes you turn your position, lying flat on your stomach now and he towers over you. he’s pressing his knees against the bed as he’s in front with geto behind. “what, what what…?” he taunts, watching you desperately claw your fingers towards his sweats, his visible bulge looked so appetizing—you could only imagine how big this idiot was. “ya wanna occupy that mouth while sugu eats you out, yeah?”
“uh huh.”
you nodded, and gojo grows more cocky, craving it badly.
geto uses two fingers to slide your panties to the side - starting off slow with a long stripe lick towards your pre-soaked pussy and you whimpered.
geto's eyes close for a brief moment—using both hands to spread your ass just a bit, dipping his tongue between your slit, savoring the sugary taste. once he started there was no stopping, in his dirty mind, he imagined your pussy was the sweetest dessert he's ever crafted with his own two hands.
cake…cupcakes…fucking ice cream…
his saliva was practically syrupy from how much he was nearly being coated from just your mess alone. some of it runs down the side of his mouth and he’s just such a messy eater.
“…don’t gimme that look, baby,” gojo grunts, his smile—a half skittish one at that, his pants sag and droop from his waistline before you pull it down just to expose his white and blue boxers.
gojo brings your head close towards it with a swift hand around your throat lightly, rubbing your face all against his bulge, the stretchy thin fabric protected his lower half to make you whine more.
“see…feel how..how hard you fuckin' make me? put your throat to good use for me,” and he lifts your head up—making sure you keep direct eye contact. “…‘okay satoru’. say it, girl.”
you moaned, geto's so sloppy as he’s continuing to eat you out from behind, it’s devilishly nasty from how good he was at pleasing you…
figures. because he was one of the top cooks, not only would his meals would be considered s-tier, but so would his tongue. every few seconds he’d spit on your cunt just to lap it up.
with the help of two thick fingers of his already stuffed inside you to make your body twitch and shudder beneath his hold.
“o-okay, satoru.”
stuttering for him, adorable…
you mumbled, and he stares down at you with a cocksure expression, your fingers hungrily pull down his boxers…and his dick sprung out, your first initial thought was how pretty it was.
long, lengthy and a little bit veiny, such height to it that it towers. it was a faint shade of beige but with a dash mix of pink. he was well trimmed, although managed to have a few specks of white hair near his base.
his base though… he was so full, stuffed. literal breeder balls, made your mouth water at just having that stuffed down your tight throat…
damn.
you were so eager, you didn’t want to waste time. gojo watches as you slide your tongue out, swirling it around his sensitive frenulum that was splattered with sticky pre-cum all over it, earning a grunt from him.
“oh….s-shit… juuuust like that, yeah. all the way down.”
his girth was simply delicious, scrumptious even. your warm mouth opened him with open arms. sinking down slowly every few seconds, he groans from feeling you moan down his shaft because of geto continuously eating you out at the same time.
geto’s got a mouth on him, or tongue some might say. the way it flicks against your nub only to abuse it by sucking on it tenderly, savoring its sweet candied taste, your muffled moans fueled him with much desire—even he started to feel himself get hard.
the unapologetic strain in his pants, oh…it was there. just bulging and bulging.
you whimpered at the gentle scrap of geto’s nose swiping against your pussy, equivalent to a credit card as if it was checking for balance.
your eyes rolled back, although gojo wants you to keep your focus primarily on him though.
“mhm. fuckin' slob on it.” he grumbles, gripping the back of your head to lightly move you further and further against him.
his fat tip that was aching inside your mouth, pulsing with much content.
it starts to hit back against the very roof of your mouth, so sloppy, he wants you to be sloppy….you gag, drool spilling from the side of your lips and looking up at him with a cock-drunken grin. “yeahhh girl. there’s that pretty smile. keep doin' that.”
gojo’s using your throat, fingers dug into your scalp and he’s got you being such a mess, such a slut.
he tastes so good, your tongue circulates against his tip. the sweetness yet tang of bitterness of his pre-cum coats the very tip of your tongue, the tastebuds of yours tasted everything.
sweet like candy….sweet like a pastry.
“shit, been hidin' this...dirty throat from me?” he moans, trying to laugh it off but failing. he’s giving you a stare, shooting daggers and he’s kind of embarrassed. your own gaze towards him was so intimate, he’s making you go up and down, you’re breathing through your nose and he almost slips off a whine.
“she’s close, satoru,” geto mumbles, departing his lips for a split second to speak—a whimper rips from your voice at the hotly warm breath of his fanning against your clit, he drags a thumb down your pussy before giving it a light spank. “should i, excuse me….should we let her?” he teases.
“….nahhh.”
you frown, the playful repetitive banter between the two of them going back and forth—long strands of geto’s hair tickles against his skin the further he shoves his face between your thighs, eating you out like a starved man, his tongue was at such temperature, it’s very warmth feeling has butterflies co-existing into the very depths of your tummy.
“you wanna cum, baby? ‘s that why you keep poutin' all stupid-like with my dick in your mouth?”
all you could do was nod your dumb head, up and down with the cutest scowl scattered across your face, pulling back up.
a singular pop leaves your lips one his twitching dick exists, and your glossed eyes stare at him. “s-satoru—”
“no, gorgeous. you’re supposed to be moaning my name.” geto grunts, giving your pussy another smack and you whimper. he’s just french kissing with your clit now, his entire technique made your toes curl, feeling such heat swell and build up inside of you, your mind raced and raced. “suguru. not fuckin' satoru. tch.”
“ahah, don’t mind him, he gets jealous when things doesn’t go his way.” gojo sneers, rubbing a hand underneath your chin.
your spit coats his fingers and he sticks his bottom lip out, fake pity as he’s toying with your mouth.
his dick grows soft inside and you’re basically nibbling on it now. your jaw ached a bit, you’re staring up at him and he gives you an abrupt head bat before groaning. “y-you’re gonna make me cum if ya keep sucking me slow like that, girl.”
you suddenly gasp, snapping out of your cock-drunken trance with a mean ass smack from geto, a snicker escaped his lips in return and you’re cumming hard, it’s unexpected and your legs twitch, practical mush.
only pathetic murmuring cacophonies of, “s-suguru,” and “o-oh my f-fucking goddd,” ‘s made its way out your throat once you stopped sucking gojo off for a few seconds.
your orgasm was rough, boisterous, just hit you like a full blown semi-truck.
his lips were still attached to your folds, dark eyebrows tugged together he’s determined on making you say his name, making you cum more than gojo ever could.
gojo rolllllls his eyes, dramatically as possible.
quite the drama queen he was. the actual epitome of it. gojo ends of concluding himself, swallowing hard as he sat on his knees. you instinctively slide your tongue out for him to spray it with many ropes and droplets of his cum.
“thaaaat’s it, clean me up baby.” he pants, his breath was shaky but he still finds time to flash geto a cheesy grin.
just…wriggling his eyebrows, so unserious. gojo turns his attention back towards you, and he watches you swallow every drop, savoring the taste.
it makes your eyes squeeze a little before you detach your lips, your own sheeny coated saliva running away from his dick.
geto stares at the both of you with a cute pique expression—gojo leans down before stroking your chin, brushing his thumb against your lips whilst observing your features, “gimme a kiss. just like ya did to suguru.”
you scooted upwards on the bed, and his smirk…
his white lashes were pretty, they lowered as he stared down at you, lingering over you even while on his knees. gojo always found a liking towards you. he didn’t mind a bit of competition against his culinary peer, geto wasn’t the only one who had a sweet tooth for you after all.
you lean into his touch—and his slender fingers ghosts against the middle part of your neck, you open your mouth for him just a bit for him to swirl his tongue against yours sensually.
his lips brushed against yours, incredibly soft and plump. he couldn’t help but suck on your tongue just a tad bit, not even minding tasting himself, his own stickiness that remained.
“how repulsive,” geto mumbles underneath his breath, pulling you away of gojo’s reach. geto stares down at you - and he’s quite handsome himself, still in a pussy drunken state, eyes half closed.
he looked gorgeous.
“satoru,” he says, raising his head before he pulls you close towards him. with a soft uttered oof, you land against his chest, and he rubs a hand caressingly down your back, brushing the tips of his fingers against the thin fabric of your tank top. “how ‘bout we compete?”
you moaned, geto brings his lips towards the side of your neck while rubbing his hand against your pussy — feeling how overly sensitive you still were, so needy and in such heat, you bit down on your lip as he continued to speak. “hmm… on who can make her cream the most?”
“me, obviously,” gojo immediately chuckles, as if that was the dumbest question imaginable. “i wanna get first dibs,” and then he pecks a kiss towards your nose. “can i, pretty? ya fine with that?”
“yeah...”
you panted, geto’s feeling you up and he’s so toasty, so warm.
you were embarrassed enough as is with how sticky you were between your legs. your own slick stuck against the crevices of your inner thighs like glue, every few seconds you’d catch geto staring at it, swiping a tongue against his lips as if he wanted to eat you out again, and again.
“…baby.” gojo purrs, you’re pressed against your stomach.
the linen sheets rubbed off against your skin, velvet black sheets and you swallowed whatever pride you had left, glancing at the long rectangular shaped mirror that stood in front of the three of you.
“tell me, yeah,” he pauses…and you choke out a needy whine, oh he’s teasing, ghosting his achy tip against your pussy. “how do you like it? rough? soft, aggressive?”
and then he leans directly close towards you—his chest hits against your back, and he playfully grinds against you with just his throbbing cock pulsing between you making you whimper out. “i wanna get to know this pussy before i just go all in, ya know…?”
“r-rough, please. just fuck me, satoru.” you sniffled, glancing up at geto who’s got a relaxed smile—he pursed his lips against each other before starting away with a flirtatious scoff.
he was jealous.
one he started, gojo was a monster, plain and simple. his stroke game was just downright mean.
he’s got you gripping the sheet, hanging on for dear life and babbling the most ludicrous things out of your mouth, you can’t even believe the things you were whining out.
as his dick buried inside of you—your jaw is nearly dropped open at full he’s got you, his length, the girth and the fucking stretch of his cock has you drooling for more. “s-shit, shit more,” you begged, your voice trembling from his mean hits.
no remorse, your ass smacks and smacks against him loudly. it rings throughout your ears, making your teeth chatter just slightly. gojo’s hand wraps against the back of your throat. a tiny squeak comes out and surely enough, you find yourself smiling at your reflection. “not too rough am i, pretty? …she okay?”
pulling your eyebrows together in confusion, you were confused before realizing he was referring to your pussy. of course…
“n-no, i'm fine.” you choked out.
“good, gooood….”
he's sexily grunting, and his hip movements were just animalistic. his frame snaps and jerks against you to where the mattress is just singing out adlibs in harmony. creak after creak after creak, it grows out to be annoying—yet alas…your dumb little brain can barely process anything anymore.
now you knew why they called it backshots for a reason.
gojo’s weight just barely lingers against your ass, your pussy was vocal too. it’d be quite foolish for it not to be.
it squelched and cried and even spat out many other various sounds all from gojo’s mean derogatory target hits against your very core. frail arms just dangling over the bed, being stretched thin by his dick, its expanding and exploring your walls as if it was on a mission.
your pussy craved and yearned for more, pretty soon you were gonna cum again—he’s got your arms pinned behind your back, just driving and bullying his dick in and out of you. you’re speechless, lurching against the mattress your eyes roll back and gojo groans, “your back arch is so pretty, baby,” he taunts, clicking his tongue in derision. “so whiney.”
“…you’re hogging her, satoru.” geto grumbles, and he brings your body up to sit up—gojo scoffs, watching him take initiative to kiss you again. you whimper in his mouth once you felt him bring a hand between your legs. gojo pulls out with a frown, watching geto steal you now.
his warm lips clashed against yours—he tasted so rich and sweet, the flavor, his flavor was just purely appetizing. as your tongue collided against his, he’s hungrily gripping your ass now, the thin middle part of your panties lazily pushed to the side, you could taste the tiniest sugary-coated cream of his pastry still on his lips. not to mention your own slick as well, it still coated his chin, shimmery and all.
with a free hand, he pulls his hair out of a ponytail, and it flies loose. some of it tickles against your skin and you whined once he gave your ass a smack before presenting it with a good squeeze.
“you’re greedy, suguru...” gojo pouts. “you didn’t even let me finish, man.”
feeling the tips of his ears seethe with hotness, gojo didn’t wanna admit how hard it was to see you and geto make out with each other. geto’s hand placement, it was so attractive—one resting on your hip, another on your bare ass, kissing his palm against your rear with a few spanks to make you moan such salacious moans and whimpers in his mouth.
you feel geto’s lips purse into a smile at gojo being jealous now, he runs his tongue alongside yours, and he brings you closer towards him.
you hook a leg around his waist and that’s when his hands slide down your waist. “she wasn’t yours to begin with.”
he mutters, smiling at gojo—pulling away to lick down your neck and you whimpered.
“im joking, crybaby. guess i gotta share,” he pecks a kiss near your collarbone. geto stares into your eyes before relaxing his face, humming before leaning close to your ear. “think you can take both of us, gorgeous?”
both…?
you nodded without hesitation, and gojo presses up against you before you crawl on top of geto’s lap.
he slouched back against his mattress with a smug grin, whipping his dick out. he was thicker while gojo was subtly longer. he still had inches to him, every single second you took to stare made your mouth water.
“tch….should be ridin' me instead,” he snarls underneath his breath, helping you slide your way down onto geto.
“cry about it.” geto shrugs, and the white-haired male only gives him a glare. you moaned, feeling geto’s thickness insert its way inside your pussy, past your folds. barely in and his tip was so fat. it was plump and stretched your cunt out to its supreme.
gojo tsks, stroking himself before rubbing himself against your leaky hole — your arms snake around geto’s shoulders and he’s staring at you. one hand of his slipping underneath your top to brush his thumbs against your perky nipples, making you whimper even more.
his tongue slithered against your bare skin…giving it a good suck, his pearly white teeth playfully nibbles against your nipple and you whine.
“can your pussy even fit two?” gojo pants, his voice was shaky, embarrassingly so—he’s catching himself licking his lips, sinking his way inside you, now you’re just being double stuffed. you’re on geto’s lap with gojo positioned behind you.
feeling every inch, inches stuffing inside of you, gojo spanks your ass. purposely leaning up close to you — he’s warm, his entire body is, the fabric of his hoodie skims up against your back.
you hear him chuckle nervously against you, and you start to move your hips against geto. warm breath fanning against your earlobe before he playfully licks the side of your ear only to nibble on it to hide his moans.
“…mhm..baby…baby,” he grunts, grabbing your hips to rock against him. gojo moans, melodically so, he’s practically jumping against you, you’re taking both of them and you bite down on your lip. geto leans back and watches the view of you riding him while getting inches from behind. “s-still gotta finish, ‘m a little sensitive still.”
“ya think satoru should finish, princess? he looks like he’s about to cry,” geto sneers, his gaze was stoic as ever, he raises his head, a meaningless head tilt at you, locking eye contact and he’s so big.
gojo’s fingertips dig into the fat of your ass, spanking it and spanking it — the recoil turning him on even more and he just can’t shut up. babbling nonsense, his bottom lip pokes out as he feels himself grow hotter, immense pressure building up as he was rutting himself against you, geto as the same time.
tag team.
“n-no.” you giggled, being caught by surprise once gojo wraps his arms around you — body to body, his cold breath danced against your skin after each jittery pant of desperation.
geto only laughs at your answer, watching you keep up a somewhat reasonable pace with your hips, you lightly shove geto down against his back, swerving yourself against him, and he’s stretching you fully. “he’s been too bratty.”
damn…
“eh?! y-you guys are fuckin' bullies…”
he spasms, his pink-reddened lip quivers, glancing down to see your pussy getting devoured by two thick cocks. you couldn’t really talk because you were moaning just as much as gojo, he’s so close to you, his scent, his loud scent that never failed to make you dizzy, “shit, i-i can’t.”
“just kidding, you can cum,” you whimpered, feeling gojo suddenly reach down to squeeze your pussy — kissing it with a few spanks from his hand.
your legs clench and tremble, and he’s so relieved. poor baby, he’s all shaky, it’s almost like he’s the girl.
gojo’s sputtering out incoherent, “thankyouthankyou,” ‘s into your neck repeatedly, taking a moment to swallow before he’s shooting inside your clenching hole, his entire body locks and tenses.
his jaw mimickes the same and his orgasm was soooo loud.
“f-fuck, take it all for me. been savin' it for so long…”
it’s sticky and slimy — gojo’s cum spills out, and he pouts once he pauses, watching it pour out only to stuff his dick back in, plugging it in so it never leaves.
he swipes his thumb against his own created mess and moans. “phew shit... ‘m gonna have dreams about this, ‘bout your nasty pussy soakin' up my c-cum.”
it continues for hours and hours, actually let’s not exaggerate — half an hour.
a good half an hour of you being absolutely stuffed, fucked stupid with your pretty doe eyes staring into space, jaw dead open and legs feeling virtually nonexistent. they made you cum, cream…about at least a dozen times.
you were so conflicted, geto’s praising you, showering you with compliments in that sweet low voice meanwhile — gojo’s degrading you now after getting over his impactful orgasm, he’s so mean.
he grows a liking to spanking your pussy, telling you no, those single two letter words that never fails to make you pout and whine.
“this is so much better than culinary.” geto sighs, and he’s got you currently pressed up against his chest — full nelson, an arm swiftly and safely locked around your neck and your legs were all spread. you looked so stupid, eyes protruding at the position, your legs being just barely over your legs.
“she’s a good cook but an even better squirter,” gojo stares at you, taking full view of your cunt. it’s just spitting out gibberish, squelches…
geto’s got your body swinging and swaying against his own — you’re being stretched all the way out in more ways than one, you didn’t know you were this flexible. “one more, babe. show us your cute little velocity.”
“don’t be shy, you’ve made such a mess for us already,” geto eggs on, peppering your neck with kisses, your head’s spinning and everything feels so good. you can hear your heart pounding and thrashing out of your ears. “relax for me. yeah, like that. it’s okay…it’s okay gorgeous.”
geto’s words made you throb — his cock pulsed inside of you, so deep it makes you suck and kiss your teeth in envy. the curve of his dick hits and raptures against you, dragging out a sweet moan from your spit-glossed lips. “let me make you cream again. easy, girl..”
so much pressure rises and builds up, your head just smacks against geto. eyes subtlety rolling back to where you’re seeing straight black. “f-fuckkk. s-sugu.”
“give it to us, c'mon.” gojo whispers, he starts to maneuver circles against your clit, and since the position in you were in didn’t allow you to close your legs, you just jolted, panting and huffing out irregular breaths. “so sensitive, good girl. ‘s okay. be messy. i’ll clean ya up.”
once you squirt — it shoots out with such force, gojo’s in awe, a stupid grin plasters on his face before he slides a thumb inside your pussy that’s already being stuffed by geto’s lengthy dick. “ooooh.”
geto’s different when it came to his loads, it shot out hefty splotches, painting your insides white to where you’re chewing on invisible words, invisble moans.
he makes the both of you grow quiet so you can hear, himself shooting a filthy sticky load inside, he’s panting himself, sweat raced down the side of his head as he’s catching his breath. the way he used two fingers to pry your pussy open, showing gojo his own cum pour out of you — it’s racing down your folds as if it was in a contest.
“good…girl. f-fuck.” he says, his tone a bit drowsy.
“someone’s tired,” gojo teases, pulling you into a kiss. you moaned, kissing back. still on geto’s lap, he’s still got your legs spread open for him, but he takes you out of the head lock from full nelson, allowing your legs to breathe.
gojo’s tongue drags everywhere on your mouth, he was a sloppy kisser and wasn’t ashamed. he was obsessed with your saliva - moaning as you ran a finger down his toned biceps flexing underneath his tank.
you pull away after a whine, gasping for air only to fall back on geto’s chest, never in a million years thinking you’d screw your two culinary peers.
“we…we should do this again,” gojo sighs, swiping his hand across his sweaty forehead.
geto narrows his brows, still fucked out himself. “you weren’t even invited.”
“y-yeah? well i still made her cream more than you. let’s be honest, suguru. i won, heh.”
“you moan like a woman, just stop talking.”
“….”
then you remembered why, the constant bickering amongst the two of them — so damn annoying. but sexy, fighting over you and everything. gojo leans down, softly nibbling on your thighs. geto smiles, moving close to lick a stripe up your tummy as if your body was coated in nothing but sweets.
“f-fuck.” you’d pant, gojo’s tongue sliding between the crevices of your thighs now, running a finger down your sloppy pussy.
“we aren’t done with you, girl,” geto mutters, his hair strands tickle against your skin before he sits up — tapping a thumb against your cheek before smiling, poking his dick in hand against your lips, smearing it with your own spit. “open that mouth. wanna give you a treat. ‘s got so much vanilla waitin' just for you to swallow.”
maybe culinary wasn’t so bad after all..
8K notes · View notes
satorusugurugurl · 2 months
Text
My Wedding Date is an Escort!
Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.
Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader
Word Count: 3,682
Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language
A/N: And so part one is complete!! Please let me know what you think! I plan on posting a new part every Saturday! In the mean time I will work on my brain worm fics/requests!!
Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight
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Gold calligraphy mocked you as you stared at the wedding invitation on your table. Any normal person would have been elated over their best friend getting married. The dresses, cake, looking at venues! It should have been a happy, wonderful time.
And it would have been amazing if your best friend had met her fiance through anyone other than Toji Zenin. Your ex-fiance, the man who broke your heart, who was also the groomsman at the wedding! The same wedding you were a bridesmaid in.
Life fucking hated you.
Your break up was a year and a half ago. It was tucking painful, watching the life and future you had imagined slip away. You were inconsolable for the first few months, but any other person would feel the same if their fiance broke up with them the way Toji had done to you. Part of you liked to think you were getting better; you knew you weren't healed completely.
The closer the wedding came, the more nervous and sick you got. In a month, you would have to face Toji for the first time in over a year. He was doing much better off than you. He got married! He was now Toji Fushiguro and he and his wife had a son!
Fate was a cruel bitch. He was living his dreams: a house, a pretty wife, a sweet, beautiful son. Toji got everything he wanted while you sunk into the darkness of despair. Toji had ruined you, marked you in ways you weren't sure you'd ever heal from. You never wanted to be hurt like that again. That's why you were single.
Single and traumatized. Perfect intro on your dating profile. So yeah, dating wasn't your thing right now.
Which puts you in a messy fucking predicament. You would be at a wedding with your Ex, who was living the life you had always wanted. Why was he given happily ever after while you were left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart? You could already see the pitiful expressions that your loved ones would be wearing, and that made your skin crawl with anxiety.
You could not show up to the wedding alone.
Which is why you were sitting in your kitchen, drowning in anxiety. You stared at your laptop, bouncing your leg nervously as you scrolled on Escorts4y0u.com. Damn, Yu Haibara, for suggesting this to you. You were shopping for a fuckin’ escort!?
You shot his insane suggestion down as soon as he said it. You had begun ranting about how even more embarrassing it would be if your family found out. First, your fiance leaves you a month before your wedding. Then you go and pay for someone to pretend to be your boyfriend all because you couldn’t bear yourself to start dating again?
Amid your nervous rant, Haibara just put his hand on yours. He assured you that no one would know that they were an escort. If they were good at their job, all your family would see was a happy couple. They would be someone to go to the wedding with, and once you paid them, you would never see them again! No one would be the wiser.
“It's their job to make you feel good and help you have a good time. And you deserve to be happy.” Haibara had said with pity in his eyes. Just thinking about his face, that expression, made you cringe to think of the faces of everyone at the wedding.
“Fuck it.” You cursed, clicking on the escort you liked the most.
Gojo Satoru, twenty-eight years old. His profile listed that he was well-educated and came from a prestigious clan. He was charismatic, confident, and kind. You read dozens of reviews. His previous clients gushed over him. All five stars, every single person he’d helped was grateful for him. Plus, Gojo was very attractive. He had pure white hair, was over six feet tall, and had the most stunning blue eyes you'd ever seen. He was the ideal partner anyone would want to take home to meet the family.
Which would explain why he was the most expensive escort on the website.
“¥120,000 for a day!?” You screeched as you bounced your leg faster, doing the mental math in your head. “That’s ¥900,000.00 for a week.” The mere amount of money you were about to spend almost had you slamming your laptop shut. But Haibara’s face crossed your mind; Toji’s face began to form before you shook your head.
Hiring Gojo was your only option. You had to do this to avoid getting hurt again. Plus, you had to use the deposit from your honeymoon eventually. It would be like burying the past!
“Okay, okay, you got this; just book it Y/N!” Getting up, you jumped up and down to hype yourself up before you hit the green phone icon and dialed the number. The phone rang once and twice.
“This is Gojo!” A gruff but cheery voice answered.
You’re sure your soul left your body as you squealed in shock. He answered!? The man you were going not only to pay but also beg to pretend to be your boyfriend?!
“Hello?” A faint hint of humor and curiosity laced the voice in your ear.
You groaned, rubbing your hand down your face with a whine. “S-Sorry, I was expecting a receptionist for something.” You put the phone on speaker before hitting your head against your table.
“Oh! My bad, sorry!” His chuckle was a deep noise through the receiver. “We put our business numbers on the site. It’s just easier for us to schedule our clients like this.” He hummed. “I assume you’re on the escort website?”
“Yes, I—I was wondering if you might be free next month for a wedding? It’s my best friend.”
“Give me a sec.” Shuffling papers filled your anxiety. “A month from today?”
“Yes.”
Gojo hummed happily, “I am free that whole week! So will it be the wedding and reception?” A pen could be heard writing down notes.
”So it’s uhm, it’s a destination wedding. It’s in Kyoto, and I need you for the whole week. If that’s not an issue or problem.”
”Okay, that shouldn’t be an issue. It’s far enough out that I can block my schedule.” He whistled happily, jotting down more notes. “So the whole week, wedding, reception—“
For some odd reason, it sounded like he was hesitating or weighing his options, questioning if he wanted to even take you on as a client. The growing fear of rejection spreads like wildfire through your stomach. You never used to feel like this; you were so happy and confident before. But after everything Toji did, what he said to you after you had—well, it left some really deep scars that still hadn’t healed. When your mind picked at those still healing wounds, making them bleed, you acted before thinking.
”I have the money!” Gripping the table's edge, you stared at Gojo’s headshot on the website. “Please, I need this!”
“Hey, hey! I’m not worried about the money, sweetheart.” His voice was thick like honey; the pet name sounded so sweet. “I’m just making sure I got everything down.” On the other line, Gojo looked down at his calendar. There was something in your voice, desperation, that was genuine.
He’d had tons of clients, and many of them needed help. But in his two years of working in this field, he had never heard such a raw plea for help. Gojo’s interest peaked. Just who were you? What made you so anxious and desperate for his help?
”Let me confirm the details so I can put you in my books, Ms.?” He waited for your name, hearing you sigh in relief as you calmed yourself down
”Y/N, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.”
”Y/N,” Gojo repeated, “Okay, I have you down for next month, the whole week, for a destination wedding in Kyoto.”
You were sighing happily as you relaxed into your chair. “Thank you. It’s 900,000.00. For the whole week?” Gojo cocked an eyebrow, grinning at your straightforward attitude.
”Depends, will food and hotel be included?”
“Yes, we’ll be staying at my parents' inn; they offered to host my friend's wedding. So food, money, and accommodations will be included. Plus, I’ll take care of your travel expenses.”
Gojo turned in his desk chair, biting his lip as he listened to your stern voice. “Okay, so it’s going to be ¥600,000. A lot of the cost goes to food and hotels. Since you’re taking care of it, you get a lovely discount, sweetheart.” A scoff sounded from his phone, making him smile even wider.
”Great, lucky me.”
Gojo bit his lip, chuckling. “Did you want any other additions?”
“If you’re asking if I want to include your other services, no. I don’t need sex.”
“Don’t need sex?” He perked up as Suguru, his roommate, peeked in, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”
You gave the phone a confused look as if you were looking at Gojo yourself. “Yes, I’m dead serious.” The line went utterly silent before rich, stunned laughter filled your kitchen.
”Well shit, that’s a first!”
”Glad I could keep you on your toes, Gojo.”
”Nope.”
You blinked. “No, what?” Gojo snickered as you picked up your phone heading into your room.
”I’m going to be your boyfriend. You have a month, one month, to get used to saying my first name.” The seriousness of his tone made you stop in your tracks. “So it’s Satoru to you, Y/N.”
With a blush dusting your cheeks, you giggled, shaking your head. “Alright, that makes sense. Thank you, Satoru.”
”You’re welcome, Y/N. I’ll see you in a month.”
In one month, you were ¥600,000 poorer, and your nerves were shot as you searched for your fake boyfriend at the train station coffee shop. In the last month, you had spoken to Goj—Satoru twice over the. Once to book his services and yesterday to discuss where you were meeting. His company took care of everything else.
It was still surreal that you hired an escort to be your date, and you were waiting for a stranger at a coffee shop. This wasn't like you; it was so unbelievable. You sipped your coffee, looking around anxiously.
It was like a Greek God walked in. He was tall, like his profile said, over six-three. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes as his white fluffy hair bounced with every step. Straightening, you hesitated before lifting your hand and waving at your fake boyfriend. Seeing your arm raised, Gojo grinned, bounding forward as he pulled his sunglasses off.
“Hi! Are you Y/N?” You stood, swallowing as he still towered over you. God, he was dressed nice, all designer brand clothes. Which wasn't surprising with the amount of money you dropped to spend a week with him.
“Yes, I'm Y/L/N Y/N.” You handed him a cup of coffee that he took before sitting at the table. “Thank you again for doing this.”
Gojo grabbed six sugar packets, ripped them open, and poured all of them into his coffee. “Oh, you're welcome! I love seeing people happy.” Your eyes followed his hands as he poured cream into the coffee. “So, what's our story? That way, we're on the same page.” You couldn't help but smile as he sipped the sugary coffee with a grin.
“You have a sweet tooth?” Gojo hummed, taking another drink. “Maybe I'll make you something at the inn; I'm a pastry chef.” Gojo’s eyes went wide as you ran your fingers over the lid of your cup. “That’s a good story, we met at the bakery I wor—”
“You're a pastry chef?!” Gojo’s eyes sparkled. “Seriously?! What shop?!”
“Uhm, I work at Ichigo Cafe? It's in downtown Tokyo.”
“I love that place! The mochi there is the best!” His words had your cheeks burning your cheeks. “The cakes, the ice cream! Hell, the coffee is good too.”
You twirl your thumbs together. “Thank you, as the head chef, that makes me happy.” Satoru sat back, smiling sweetly. “So I uhm, yeah, that's a good story.”
“Yeah, it does. How long have we been together?”
The two of you settled on five months. That way, it was still pretty new. The whole time, Satoru nodded and added to your cover story. Thank god he was easy to talk to, putting your nerves at ear by the time your coffee was finished. Together, you were optimistic that you and Satoru could get through this week without a hiccup.
You both settled in on the train, getting to know each other more like favorite colors, foods, likes, and dislikes. Satoru didn't drink, had a major sweet tooth, and did his escorting gig full-time. He lived with his roommate and best friend, Geto Suguru, and he had a lot of free time.
You told him everything about yourself: likes, dislikes, favorite color, hell, even your blood type. But as the conversation began to dwindle, Satoru tilted his head. Sure, all that stuff was good now for the coming week, but he wanted to know more. Like why you hired him and why you ‘don’t do sex.’ That question had plagued his mind for the last month.
“Can I ask why you hired me?” His question had your head snapping up. “I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but you've been tense since we got on the train. There's more to this than just wanting a date to a wedding.”
“Uhh, is that obvious? I'm sorry. It's just my ex-fiance is at the wedding party with me.” Satoru paid close attention to how your eyes darkened as you looked out the window. “Our breakup was a shock since it happened a month before our wedding. So, I have all these trust issues, and I don't want to date anyone. Because it's easier not to get hurt if you don't put yourself out there.”
“Why did he break up with you?”
“Why didn't he?” The tone of your voice and words had Satoru peeking up. Not in curiosity but surprisingly in anger. Satoru had seen a lot of women and men in his days as an escort. Many are desperate, lonely, and want to have a good time. But whoever had broken your heart had hurt. You in more ways than one. “There were a lot of things that he uhm—listed off.”
You quickly changed the subject, much too fast for Satoru’s liking. But he wasn’t the type to pry, especially when it came to the feelings and comfort of his clients. So he let you change the subject. And the rest of the train ride to Kyoto, even up to your family's inn, the subject stayed clear of your ex. It was bad enough you’d be seeing him soon; you would much rather not talk about him before you saw his face.
You stood in front of the door to your family's inn. Satoru grabbed your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours as you took a deep breath. “Hey, we got this.” God, you hoped Satoru was right; this had to go perfectly.
Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you stepped inside. The laughter and distant conversations echoed off the halls as wedding guests conversed and chatted while wandering around. You spotted your mother carrying a tray. She took one glance at you before looking away.
”Oh, Y/N darling, good you’re here. Whenever you get a chance, could you help me make some treats for afternoon tea? Everyone is instant with trying those matcha cookies you made last year.” After years of helping out, in the end, your body began to move on muscle memory, but Satoru stopped you, pulling you into his side with a grin.
“Hey, don’t just up and leave me. At least introduce me to your family first, sweetheart.” The bustling, noisy chatter around you stopped as your family and friends just seemed to notice the giant man standing beside you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he leaned down to kiss your temple. “My poor sweet girl is already in work mode. I thought this was supposed to be a vacation.”
”Right, of course, I’m sorry, Satoru. Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.”
”Eh!?”
Those sad, pitful reactions you had been so familiar with over the last year and a half were nowhere to be found on the faces of your loved ones. They were faces of shock, curiosity, and joy. A much better reaction, one that had you letting out a shaky breath you had no idea you were holding in. As you basked in relief, dark eyes watched the two of you, reading you.
The afternoon went off without a hitch. Satoru fit in with any conversation thrown his way. From what he did for a living to how the two of you met, he never stuttered or looked to you for help. He was exactly what you needed. With Gojo by your side, you knew you could get through this wedding without losing yourself in the darkness again.
You owed Haibara big time for this.
After the two of you answered several rounds of twenty questions and an early dinner, you and Satoru stepped into your room. You shut the door, sliding back against it as you shut your eyes. “Oh my gosh, that went much better than anticipated.” Satoru chuckled, setting both of your luggage off in the corner of the room.
“You did great.” His praise had you smiling more. “Seriously, this will be a walk in the park!”
You wanted to agree with him, but your mouth remained shut. That was just your family you met with. Things might be a different story when you face Toji. Because despite you not wanting him to, you knew he could read you like a book. He always could tell when you weren’t feeling the best or something was wrong. But maybe, if you keep playing your card right, you might be able to fool him, too.
”Yeah, a walk in the park.” You looked around the room, relieved to find the futon already laid out for you both. But it was missing the extra pillows you had asked for. The pillows that were going to be used to separate you and Satoru. “Huh, I thought my dad said the pillows would be here when we got to the room. I’ll be right back; the shower is just to the right if you want to wash up first.”
“Awesome, thanks a lot.”
As you reached for the door, the handle turned, startling you. Satoru moved so fast, his arms wrapping around you as the door opened wide. “Have you ever heard of knocking before? My girlfriend and I could have been doing something. If you saw that, I would have had to charge you for the show.” Satoru started as the door opened wide, revealing the person standing in front of it, four pillows in his arms.
”You seriously think I believe that?”
Your body went rigid as you stared into the dark eyes of the man who broke your heart. “T-Toji? What are you doing here?” You learned further back into Satoru’s chest, trying to put distance between the man that had stained your life.
“Bringing you your pillows.” He motioned his chin down at them to emphasize his words. “Look, we need to talk.”
Satoru could feel your breath quicken, your chest moving faster with each inhale you took. From your reaction, he could figure out just who exactly this asshole was. This dark-haired asshole who just barged into your room had to be the ex you didn’t want to talk about in any way, shape, or form. Looking at him, Satoru came to one conclusion without even knowing the guy. He was a fucking prick.
”Look, Toji, I’m exhausted. I don't want to talk right now.” You snatched the pillows away from him. “Satoru and I were going to get ready for bed. I require some TLC tonight.” You went to shut the door, but Toji placed his palm against it, preventing it from moving.
”Please, you and I both know this isn’t your boyfriend. I need to talk to you now. Tell your friend here he can fucking wait until our conversation is over.”
The tone and mere attitude of the prick in the door had Satoru seeing red. He released you, turning you to face him, glaring daggers at the man spewing toxic commands. “I’m not a friend.” Satoru spit out the last word. In a flash, his hand gripped your chin, turning you towards him. His other hand rested on the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss.
It was your first kiss in a year and a half, a kiss that was full of rage and passion like you had never experienced before. Satoru’s kiss was for show, but fuck, it had your knees buckling. You matched his pace, kissing him back urgently. His hands tangled in your hair while you fisted his shirt. You prayed that this mini-makeout session was enough to fool your ex. Satoru pulled away to glare at Toji. His chest rose and fell as he slowly licked his bottom lip with a smirk.
“My girlfriend and I were just getting ready to bed, if you caught the drift. If she wants to talk to you tomorrow, she’ll find you. Later.” Without another word, Satoru slammed the door in Toji’s face before turning to face you.
”Wow.” Was all you could manage to say as you ran your fingers over your lips. Seeing you do that while hearing your breathless voice had Satoru fifty shades of red. In his whole career as an escort, he has never lost his cool like that until he was with you.
Oh, he was fucked.
(TBC)
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vivwritesfics · 3 months
Text
"Oscah"
Accord to his girlfriend, his name isn't Oscar. It's Oscah
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"Oscah!"
There was one person who said his name like that. Well, her brother sometimes did, but she only called him 'Oscah'. She hadn't said his name properly in months.
There was a small (rather large) part of him that loved it. It was a cute little nickname for him, like when Lando called him Osc.
Basically, the Norris siblings hated properly pronouncing is name. After a year in Mclaren, a year of being Lando's teammate, nearly a year of being with her, he barely knew his own name. Oscar Piastri? He only knew Osc and Oscah.
"Oscah!" He turned around at that. There she was, sitting beside her brother, readying herself to throw a balled up piece of paper at him. It didn't escape Oscar that she and Lando were sat in the exact same position. They weren't twins but they really could have been.
She wound her arm back and threw the piece of paper at Oscar. Call it his amazing driver reflexes, but he caught it and opened it out. 'U+ME = get out of here?'
He looked up, and she was still watching him. With a quick nod they were both out of their seats, walking out of the room as Lando sat there confused. "Thank you for enabling me," she said as she grabbed a hold of his hand, leading him outside.
Oscar stopped her and kissed her quickly. "I will never not enable you," he said and kissed her once again. "Now come on, before your brother catches up to us."
Even though they both loved Lando, he was the third wheel in their relationship. They both felt bad for taking off on him, but they just needed some time alone.
***
The paddock was bustling as Lando and Oscar walked through it. "Do you know where it is today?" Lando asked as he put his cap backwards.
Oscar's eyebrows rose. "It? You mean your sister?"
"Yeah, it," Lando reaffirmed.
Oscar had never heard Lando refer to his sister as 'it'. But it didn't surprise him. She bothered Lando just as much as he bothered her. "She is..." Oscar had to think about it. His girlfriend had told him where she was going to be while he was racing, but, for the life of him, he couldn't think of it. "I think she's at your grandma's house?" He suggested, but his eyebrows were raised, as if he himself didn't know.
"Huh," Lando muttered, nodding his head.
They continued on through the paddock.
"Oscah!"
He stopped dead in his tracks. She wasn't supposed to be here. She was supposed to be back in England, with grandma and grandpa Norris. Oscar wouldn't believe it, not until he saw her.
"Oscah!"
This time, he couldn't stop himself from running to her. Phones were out, cameras were clicking as Oscar grabbed a hold of her and pulled her into his arms. As a usually private person it was weird to see him being so public, but neither of them cared.
"Lando knew the entire time, didn't he?" Oscar whispered, still holding her.
"Who's idea do you think this was?" She whispered back, tucking herself into his side. "C'mon, Oscah, show me the car," she said, pulling him away from the cameras.
***
She had been napping as he finished up. She'd woken up far too early and no amount of monster energy was keeping her awake. So, she napped while she waited for Oscar.
When Oscar finished, he gently woke her up.
It didn't matter how gentle he was being though. She batted his hand away and tried to roll away, nearly rolling herself off of the sofa. "C'mon," he said softly, attempting to pull her up.
"Piss off, Oscar," she muttered with a groan. "Let me sleep."
It was so weird, hearing her call him Oscar. He wasn't Oscar, not to her at least. Who was Oscar? He didn't know.
He stood over her for a moment, and she finally looked up at him. "What? Oscah, what?" She asked, sitting up.
"There we go," he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her up. "Got scared when you called me Oscar."
"When I called you by your name?" She asked as he picked her stuff up (what a gentleman).
"When you called me Oscar, yeah."
"What do I normally call you?"
He stopped and stared at her. Did she seriously not realise that she rarely called him by his name. "Say my name," he said.
"Oscah."
"Now say Oscar," he said, putting emphasis on the R.
"Oscar-oh."
Oscar couldn't stop himself from laughing. "You seriously didn't notice?"
She shook her head and Oscar kissed the top of her head. "I love you."
"Love you too, Oscah."
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ellecdc · 3 months
Note
HIII, I wanted to know if I could request a poly marauders x festy slytherin reader.Something of how they started or whatever you have inspiration for.I would love another part of that, if you feel up to it. Hope you are taking care of yourself <3
feisty/slytherin reader x poly!marauders is actually my favourite thing to write (followed closely by any ship with whimsical reader) so I was more than happy to whip this up for you! Thanks for requesting! 🫶
poly!marauders x feisty, fem, Slytherin!reader
CW: werewolf prejudice, making fun of possible birth defects due to Pureblood's being terribly inbred, swearing
Remus felt that generally, he was a very understanding person. And not just in a compassionate way, but also in a sense that he just understands a lot of things.
He understands Sirius’ need to defy his family whilst simultaneously looking after his brother as if his life depended on it.
He understands James’ need to make sure everyone around him feels as loved as humanly possible, even if it’s at his own expense. 
He understands that Gryffindor’s hate Slytherin’s, but he also understands that not all Slytherin’s are horrible, prejudiced racists.
He understands everyone makes fun of Hufflepuffs for being soft and emotional, but he also understands that Hufflepuffs can be some of the most heartless, ruthless friends you can have.
What Remus has had a hard time understanding, however, was his boyfriends’ sudden interest in you.
Remus could admit that you were quite attractive, but you were also sort of…terrifying?
“What have you boys done?” Lily murmured in quiet horror (quiet awe if you asked James).
“We pranked Slytherin!” Sirius said jovially, as if Lily had somehow missed that key piece of information. 
“I can see that, Sirius.” She said like one might speak to a small child who was quite dumb. “But on portrait day?”
Sirius smiled smugly as he watched Slytherin’s enter the Great Hall for their school portraits. As they passed through the door, they were unknowingly walking under a charmed mistletoe (which was very difficult to find this time of year, thanks James very much) which turned their green and silver robes and ties to a beautiful red and gold. 
The best part is some students still hadn’t noticed yet, and another amazing part was that those who had noticed couldn’t figure out how to turn it back.
“Mr. Black, Mr. Potter, Mr. Pettigrew, and Mr. Lupin. I suppose the four of you have no idea who may be behind this prank?” Professor McGonagall challenged as she looked down her nose at them sitting at the Gryffindor table.
Sirius smirked as he responded “Why, not a clue Minnie. But I’ll keep my eye out and let you know if I see any mischief makers.”
McGonagall let out a long suffering sigh as she took five points from Gryffindor for improper address of a professor. 
“You rotten dugbogs.” Remus heard you screech before he saw you. He had the good sense to cringe as you stormed up to their table whilst Sirius and James grinned enthusiastically. 
“Why hello Y/N, my beautiful angel.” James greeted as Sirius let out a sultry “Don’t you just look smashing in red.” Accompanied by a wink.
“I don’t know what you sods have done, and quite frankly, I don’t care about the rest of them; but you will fix this.” You spat angrily gesturing to your faux Gryffindor uniform.
“But that would be such a crime, dollface.” Sirius lamented.
“You can’t expect us to mess with perfection.” James added.
You shot your hand out and grabbed James’ collar, pulling his face to yours until your noses were nearly touching. 
“I swear to Salazar himself, Potter, if you do not change my robes back, I will cut your dick off and charm it to your forehead so you walk around looking like a limp-dick unicorn. Change. It. Back.”
Your voice was low and threatening, and Peter actually gulped as he hid behind Remus. But looking at James’ face pressed up to yours, you would have thought you had just serenaded him with the greatest love song known to man.
“You have such beautiful eyes.” He murmured in awe. Remus was certain he could see steam forming behind said beautiful eyes, but before it could shoot out of your ears, Sirius came to your rescue.
“Very right, Prongs. She does have beautiful eyes. Unfortunately, I believe her usual green does compliment them better than the red.” Sirius said lasciviously as he cast the counter charm to return your robes to their rightful colour.
You looked down at your form before looking back at the boys skeptically. You seemed only then to realize you were still holding onto James’ collar like a vice and dropped it. Remus almost chuckled at the look of loss that crossed James’ face.
“Right.” You said and cleared your throat, backing away from them as if you weren't fully trusting what just happened. “Thank you.”
Sirius’ head actually reared back in surprise at your thanks and James beamed.
“Anytime angel, truly.” 
James’ pet name seemed to snap you out of whatever trance you’d been in as you narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t call me that.”
“Terribly sorry, my love.” He relented.
You groaned in exasperation and carried on towards the Slytherin table.
“Isn’t she lovely?” James whispered in awe, eyes still glued to your form as you bodily shoved Evan Rosier out of what Remus could only assume you had dubbed as your seat at the Slytherin table and sat down. 
“Try bloody terrifying.” Peter shivered in horror as he finally extricated himself from behind Remus. 
“Oi! Don’t talk about our future missus that way, Wormy.” Sirius squawked and swatted at the poor sod with his copy of the Daily Prophet.
“Is he wrong, though?” Remus asked as he let out his own breath of relief.
“Don ‘t worry moons,” James murmured into Remus’ cheek as he pressed his nose into the werewolf’s hair line. “She’ll win you over soon.”
Remus wasn’t so sure.
You were the only Slytherin photographed in proper uniform that day. 
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A few weeks later found Remus sitting horrifyingly uncomfortable in Defense Against the Dark Arts as they moved on to the unit featuring Werewolves.
James sat on his right, and though the shaking of his knee under the table gave away his nerves, he spent the entire class rubbing soothing circles along the back of Remus’ hand with his thumb.
Sirius, sitting on Remus’ left, was incredibly stiff and clearly poised to fight if given the chance which did nothing to ease Remus’ discomfort. It also didn’t help that they shared this period with the 6th and 7th year Slytherin’s.
He just wanted this day to be over.
“Why are we even talking about this?” Mulciber sneered, interrupting the professor as they discussed elements of the Wolfsbane potion. 
“What is your question, Mr. Mulciber?” The professor drawled out in a bored tone.
“Why bother discussing werewolves? The lot of them should be culled anyway; euthanize them on site for all I care.” He spat, earning snickers from Avery, Goyle, and Snape. 
Sirius sucked in a breath in preparation of a verbal (and possibly physical, should he be so lucky) spar when Remus dug his nails into Sirius’ thigh. “Please, Pads.” He begged quietly; voice taught with emotions.
Sirius let out a pained sigh and leaned back further into his chair.
“Funny, Mulciber.” A bored tone commented, “I was just thinking the same about you and your lot.”
Remus, James, and Sirius all turned to see the majority of the eyes in the room already on you, though you never bothered lifting your head from your textbook.
“Care to repeat that, L/N?” Mulciber sneered, sitting up in his chair as if ready to lunge at you if necessary.
You lifted your bored gaze from your book and stared at him head on. “Do I need to repeat myself, Mulciber? Mummy and daddy kept it too close in the family tree, huh?” You murmured in faux sympathy. “I was just thinking, most of the Sacred Twenty-Eight ought to be culled. That would save the wizarding world a whole lot of trouble.”
“How dare you compare me to some filthy half-breed. My family is royalty compared to those disgusting creatures.” Avery shouted.
“The only one acting like a disgusting creature here is the likes of you tossers.” You shouted back.
“Alright.” The professor tried (not very hard, albeit) to quell the quickly spiralling discussion.
“I could hardly look at myself in a mirror if I’d been tainted with a curse like lycanthropy.” Snape sneered, pointedly facing the Marauders across the room. Sirius burned with shame and protectiveness, being the reason Snape knew Remus’ secret and the overwhelming need to defend his lover. Remus took that moment to dig his nails into Sirius' thigh again, pinning him to his seat.
“Are you sure, Snape? Are you sure you wouldn’t rather live a life with lycanthropy than have to look at that mug of yours in the mirror every day.” You drawled.
“You insolent little bitch.”
“Hey!” James finally shouted from across the room, far more stern than Remus can ever remember seeing the boy. But you carried on, completely undeterred. 
“I’d bet ten thousand galleons that not one werewolf ever asked to be a werewolf, yet you wake up each and every morning actively choosing to be the ugliest, most hateful, vile, disgusting beasts known to mankind. That is what is despicable. That is what should be euthanized on site.” Your voice grew louder and louder with each word until you were standing behind your desk and punctuating each word with a slam of your fist against the table in front of you. 
“Alright, that’s enough.” The professor finally called; tone booming across the lecture hall intoning no nonsense. 
“Mr. Mulciber, Mr. Snape, and Miss. L/N. Detention with me this evening.”
The Slytherin boys all scoffed and cursed under their breath whilst you offered a bored shrug of your shoulders, returning to your textbook as though this was just a run of the mill day for you.
The boys had been absolutely right; you just won over the affections of one Remus John Lupin.  
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halsteadlover · 4 months
Text
𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝
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*Gif and pics not mine credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!Reader.
• Requested: no.
• Summary: Lando always has a hard time trying to keep his hands off you, not even while attending an important event.
• Warnings: dirty talking, lots of swearing, oral sex (m. receiving), semi public sex.
• Word count: 2453.
• A/N: PLEASE READ THIS ONLY IF YOU’RE +18. This was supposed to be like a 700 words piece but I’m incapable to write short fics but y’all know this by now lmao. I hope you like this piece, I was inspired to write for Lando so here it is. Please comment, like and reblog, it’d be amazing ❤️ Thank you for your support xx
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You were going crazy.
His hand continued to caress your exposed thighs beneath the table, his expert fingers drawing imaginary circles on your hot skin.
They went up along your inner thigh, until they almost caressed your private parts, but before touching you as you desired, his fingers descended back down, leaving you even more irritated and lustful than before.
Asshole.
“God I want you so much baby, you have no idea how much I want to tear this dress off of you,” he whispered in your ear so sensually it made your insides explode, causing a rush of shivers down your spine and made you clench your legs.
“I can’t stop thinking about how wet you must be right now, how easily you’d suck my dick in your sweet little cunt. I’m so hard just thinking about it.” He gave a cast kiss on your flushed cheek, making you choke on the champagne you were drinking and gaining weird and worried looks from the people around the table.
Holy fuck.
You were in fact at the annual FIA gala, the event swarming with famous people, all the drivers with their respective partners but even so Lando didn’t seem to care less.
He was only focused on you, forgetting his surroundings.
He needed to touch you, always, constantly. He needed to feel you, to always have a hand on your body.
And how could anyone blame him?
Lando couldn’t normally keep his hormones at bay but seeing you in that damn dress with that slit, he could barely function and take his eyes off of you. He pretended to have a conversation with Carlos, but in reality he wasn’t listening to a single word his teammate was saying, being too focused on keeping his hard dick at bay.
He tried to hold back the smirk that threatened to appear on his face when you squeezed your thighs together, trapping his hand between them and preventing him from moving it.
“Babe you okay?” He murmured in your ear at one point, turning his attention towards you. He always had that damn smile on his face, that smirk so damn sexy you wanted nothing more than to get on your knees under the table and not care about anything else.
“Lando, you’re driving me crazy. Stop it,” you retorted through gritted teeth, in a low voice so that no one at the table would hear what you were talking about with your boyfriend.
Lando chuckled and removed the hand he had on your thigh and caressed your face with it, then resting it on your partially bare back. “But I’m not doing anything princess.”
“Oh you know damn well what you’re doing and you have to stop,” you repeated, but in the meantime feeling your cheeks burning and the heat running through your body.
Had the temperatures suddenly risen?
Or were you just horny?
Probably the second option.
“I can’t help it princess, you look so fucking hot in this dress,” he whispered, making you smile and your pussy clench at the same time.
And the fact he looked so damn sexy in that suit, so good you just wanted to rip his clothes with your teeth didn’t help make things particularly easy. If Lando struggled not to constantly touch you, you weren’t so different. You couldn’t help it, you couldn’t resist him even if you tried and it certainly wasn’t your fault.
It was his fault sex oozed from every single fucking pore of his body.
“I’m already hard as rock right now, you’re not helping if you keep looking at me like that.” His voice caught your attention again, not realizing you were mesmerized by looking at him and running your hungry eyes over his body.
“I’m not looking at you in any way baby, you just look very, very handsome in this outfit.” You seductively battled your lashes. You printed a kiss on his cheek, making your lips slight caress his earlobe. “And very, very fuckable.”
“Fucking hell,” he breathed out, about to combust.
You then placed a hand on his cheek, eagerly wanting to have some physical contact with him It didn’t matter if it was an arm, a hand, or his face, you needed to touch him. His skin was particularly hot and the way his pupils were dilated told you to everything you needed to know.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he admonished you, even though he didn’t want you to stop at all, he just wanted to avoid fucking you on that table in front of everyone.
“Too bad baby, two can play this game.” The little smirk on your painted lips made his legs go numb and it was enough for you to give him a small kiss on the lips, innocent and apparently chaste, to make him completely lose his mind.
“You’re looking at me like you want me to fuck you right here and now.” He wet his lips with his tongue, alternating his gaze between your eyes and mouth.
You nonchalantly shrugged your shoulders. “Maybe I do want you to fuck me right here and now.”
This marked the breaking point for Lando, who at that point lost all judgment and didn’t care that the awards ceremony was about to begin.
“Meet me in the bathroom.” Was all he said before getting up and walking away without even giving you time to respond. You tried to suppress a giggle, every cell in your body twitching in anticipation.
“Woah where is Lando going so fast?” Carlos had asked, turning to you with a confused expression.
“In the bathroom, I think all the water he drank is having an effect,” you replied, meanwhile thinking of an excuse to get up from the table too.
“I’m going to get something to drink.” It was the first thing that crossed your mind, not caring about the confused looks of the others at the table.
“How much you wanna bet they’re gonna fuck in the bathroom?” Daniel announced, sparking laughter from everyone on the table. “God those two go on like rabbits, it’s embarrassing.”
But there was nothing closer to the truth than what Daniel said. You and Lando wanted each other a lot, it was no secret, and your sex life was more than active and intense.
That’s why, you found yourself pressed against the men’s bathroom sink, the door locked and Lando’ body pressed against yours as the two of you kissed with hunger and passion.
His hands, now resting on your cheeks, began to wander down your body, squeezing your breasts, your hips, his fingers pressed deep into your skin.
“Fuck I want you so bad baby,” you murmured as you broke away to take a breath. But he didn’t leave you any respite, his lips had started licking and nibbling your neck, in that precise point where he knew it drove you crazy.
“Shit,” he hissed through his teeth as you began palming the crotch of his pants, feeling him rock hard under your hand.
“Already so hard for me huh?” You whispered sensually, sighing as you unbuttoned his pants and pulled them and his boxers down enough to release his dick.
“Darling I’ve been hard for you since I saw you in this damn dress.” He cupped his hands over your breasts, squeezing and groping them over your dress, making you sigh. He slipped the straps of your dress revealing and you felt him twitch in your hand as you jerked him off, his eyes looking at you with hunger and desperation. “I’m always so hard for you. God you’re gorgeous.”
“Fuck yes…” He moaned loudly and you covered his mouth with your free hand.
“Shh you don’t want anyone to hear us, do you my love?”.
He slightly shook his head, feeling like he was already at his limit just from the way you were looking at him. You removed your hand and he placed his on your face, looking straight into your eyes as your hand continued to move up and down on his dick.
“That’s my good boy.”
He almost came from that sentence alone.
His thumb traced the outline of your lips with which you wasted no time and wrapped them around his digit, always keeping your eyes on him. His gaze was fixed on your lips, the way your cheeks hollowed out to suck on his thumb and you knew where his mind was wandering.
He almost had a heart attack when he saw you kneel in front of him, a smile printed on your lips now devoid of any trace of lipstick and lip gloss.
A loud moan escaped his lips when you stuck your tongue out and traced a long line along his shaft, starting from the base up to the tip where you paused for a few moments while you tasted the saltiness of the precum.
“Shit…” He panted like he was running a marathon, his chest rising and falling quickly. “Stop teasing me.”
“Oh you mean like you did all night?” I retorted with sassy.
“Please baby, please… I need this pretty little mouth…” He begged you, stroking your no longer styled hair with one hand. “I need to fuck this mouth so bad…”
“You look so cute when you beg so desperately for me darling.” You took his dick completely into your mouth, leaving him no room for response and completely taking the air and breath out of his lungs.
He threw his head back, trying to concentrate on not letting himself get too loud since you were still in a public bathroom. But it was hard, so damn hard when your mouth took him so perfectly, when your lips kept sliding back and forth, up and down on his hard dick.
“Shit, shit, fuck yes keep going… Oh yes just like that…” he groaned, gripping your hair in a fist and intensifying the movements of his hips. His tip kept hitting deep into your throat, making you gag and almost choke on it, your eyes watering.
“So pretty… My girl is so fucking pretty while she is on her knees taking me in her mouth so damn well…”
You continued to squeeze your legs with desire, hoping in some way to relieve the tension and desire that made you clench your pussy. Your eyes never left his face, thoroughly enjoying that feeling of being able to make him lose his mind in that way.
You felt immense enjoyment, a rush of euphoria flowed through your veins seeing his face contracted in pleasure, hearing those moans, sighs and pants that only you could give him, and even if he was fucking your mouth without mercy you could’ve even choked to death and you would’ve been the happiest woman in the world.
One of your hands was resting on his hairy bare thigh, your nails pressed into his skin while the other encircled the base of his dick, helping where your mouth couldn’t reach.
“Fuck baby your mouth feels like heaven… Oh my god…” he gasped. “You drive me crazy.”
Suddenly the sound of someone banging on the door startled both of you. You took advantage of that moment to catch your breath, but continued to slide your hand up and down his cock wet with your saliva.
“O-occupied!” Lando exclaimed, swallowing a groan and trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible while his eyes were fixed on you.
God you were so beautiful.
“Hurry up!” The voice replied from the other side of the door and you both breathed a sigh of relief when you heard footsteps walking away. You let out a laugh, but it was interrupted when you started licking his wet dick again, wrapping your lips around his particularly red and sensitive tip and focusing on it as you continued to pleasure him with your hand.
Lando swore he saw stars for a moment, letting out a particularly loud moan and feeling like he was going to explode at any moment. “Oh fuck yeah princess just like that…”
Without leaving you any escape, Lando pushed himself into your mouth again, keeping his grip on your hair, using you as if you were his own doll.
But you didn’t care, on the contrary, you loved the way he used you and always did what he wanted with you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he groaned, moving his hips and making you gag on his dick again, too carried away by the pleasure and euphoria to be able to think clearly. You levered yourself on his thigh, your nails pressed so hard into his skin you feared for a moment you’d leave any permanent mark “Ah shit… I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming… Fuuuck.”
With one final forceful thrust, his hot, salty cum filled your mouth and you wasted no time swallowing it, not particularly enjoying the taste.
“Holy shit I think I’m gonna die,” he sighed in ecstasy, his mouth half open as he tried to catch his breath.
You giggled and started to get up when you felt his hands on your hips helping you to your feet and before you could do anything he kissed you, tasting himself on your lips. You immediately deepened the kiss, circling his neck and threading your hands into his hair, not being able to resist for a minute longer.
“You’re so fucking beautiful love, what do I have to do with you? You make me lose my mind,” he whispered against your lips, then losing himself for a moment looking at you. It wasn’t an exaggeration but you were truly breathtaking. Especially in that moment with your lips swollen due to the amazing blowjob you had just given him, your cheeks red and lined with mascara running from your eyes. God, he couldn’t wait to be buried deep inside you.
“For starters you could fuck me properly Mr Norris.”
He chuckled and you let out a disappointed sigh when he slightly pulled away from you, immediately feeling an empty, cold feeling inside you. He cleaned himself before putting his pants and underwear back on.
“How are you feeling my love? Was I too rough?” He then asked, cupping his hands over your face and removing the traces of mascara with his thumbs as best he could.
You shook your head. “Oh God no baby, it was amazing. You know I love it when you’re rough.”
He gave you a kiss on the lips, so sweet and in contrast to the words he was about to say. “Good baby because now we’re going home and I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit down for the next few days.”
And man, had he kept his promise.
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silencesscreams · 5 months
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"is there any chance i can fix this?" where james and reader are best friends since birth but he begins to pull away and spend less time with her in favor of the boys, so she just cuts him out of her life and after a while he doesn't know how to deal with it anymore. hiiiii
sad beautiful tragic
james potter x fem reader (angst)
a/n: sorry about any grammar mistakes, english isn’t my first language (also i’m pretty bad at writing angst but i tried my best) also immediately thought of the title because of the taylor swift song, so hope you don’t mind the association. also the first kiss part came to my mind because of a tiktok i saw a few weeks ago but i don’t really remember who’s it was to credit them
warnings: friendship distancing, kissing, fighting, cursing, a bit short (sorry), happy ending
“i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry, honey, please. is there any chance i can fix this? just tell me, please”
you knew james potter and he knew you. knowing meaning comprehending each other, meaning that you stood by each others side for as long as you can remember.
he was your first friend. he was your neighbor and you both grew up together, it was expected that you both would know each other better than anyone.
sure, it felt different when you both started hogwarts and suddenly he had new friends, but so did you. you spent the time you could together, always saving a bit of your days for each other.
during the sixth to seventh year summer vacation, he had spent the whole summer with you, you both would hang out all the time.
until he kissed you.
it was the last day of summer and you both had spent the evening in his room. you were talking about a book you had been reading recently and he listened quietly, like it was the most interesting thing he had ever heard of. until you paused for a brief moment and he moved closer to you. you were sat on the floor with him, the carpet tickling your legs as you played with the fluffy yarn under you.
“honey” he said, you looked at him, doe eyed waiting for him to continue. “a phrase. two words, six letters, two vowels. guess.” he said lowly whilst looking at your lips. your mind went blank.
one vowel for each word. you still didn’t get it.
“what are the vowels?” you whisper back, he smiles.
“i and e” he answers, not taking his eyes from off of you for a second. you knew.
“kiss me?” and so he did. his lips met yours abruptly, his hands grabbed your hips and yours went straight to the back of his neck. it completely changed the way you ever saw him, hell, it completely changed your expectations to a kiss. it was better than anything you’d ever experienced and you loved it.
when you got back to school, it seemed like he didn’t do that, actually, it seemed like he didn’t even talk to you the whole summer.
sure, he did casually say hello in the halls and you might’ve shared one or two conversations, but what the hell? he kisses you like that and expects you to just forget about it? that was the most fucked up thing anyone could’ve done. as the semester went on, your mind was absolutely torturing you over that kiss.
it made you overthink every single thing you ever did around him. but maybe he didn't have time, maybe he was really busy with his studies and quidditch, right? that was probably it.
he saw you every once in a while, said an awkward hi or whatever that thing signaling head thing he did was.
the crush you had developed for him didn’t help at all. it made you crave his presence in your life, even now that you hated him more than you ever thought you possibly could. you missed his pet names for you, ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart’ sounded so amazing coming out of his mouth.
but from the moment he started to ignore you, you decided he was absolutely done. he was never going to see a smile coming from you ever again, he was never going to get another hello, nothing. james potter didn’t deserve a single thing from you.
your friends agreed. they thought he was a piece of shit and said you should’ve cut him off a long time before.
life went on without him, you barely thought about him. your studies were going well, everything was great.
christmas break came up and when you saw james at the train station, you were pissed. you knew he was going to be there for christmas dinner, he was always invited alongside with his family. you didn’t know how he was going to act then, was he going to pretend it never happened?
when you got home, your mother instantly started asking you what you wanted for dinner and you were glad to be home, you just hated that he was in the house next to yours.
a few nights after you both got home, you were invited for a date by steven, who worked at a bookstore near the city park. you said yes, he took you to see a shitty movie and tried to kiss you after dropping you off at your front porch. you dodged it and gave him a good night kiss on the cheek. james saw it all.
once the date left, you heard him yelling from his porch:
“who’s that?” you ignored him and went inside, sure, you weren’t going to see steven again but james didn’t deserve to know that.
on christmas day you went to the potter’s for dinner, your parents insisted for you to go, even though you tried to fake being sick. sirius was there too, you politely greeted all of them them and didn’t bother to answer james’ “hey”.
when you sad at the side of the living room table james sat next to you, even though that wasn’t his usual seat. you played with your dress awkwardly and ate less, being there was making you so irritated you lost your appetite.
after taking a bite from your desert, you thanked euphemia for the food and told your parents you were feeling a bit sick and that you were heading home, telling them to enjoy the rest of their night.
as you were opening the door to head out, you heard footsteps behind you. you knew james was there and you had no interest to talk with him.
“don’t” you simply stated, stepping out and shutting the door lightly on him, he followed you during the small walk between both your houses.
“hey!” he shouted, trying to get your attention. you were about to shut the door to your house on his face, but he held it with his foot, going into your house.
he pulled you by your wrist but you tugged it away from him.
“don’t touch me!” you shouted at him, staring into his eyes for the first time that night.
“now you can talk to me, huh? ‘the fucks up with you?!” he shouts back, brows furrowed. you couldn’t believe him, what a fucking nerve he had.
“whats up with YOU?!” you step closer to him, throwing your keys on the coffee table in the middle of the living room. “you’ve ignored me for the whole semester and now you wanna talk?” he had never seen you like this. you had never been this angry at anyone or anything around him.
“i’m sorry?” he had no reaction, he knew he was wrong, he just couldn’t deal with it. with anything. he didn’t know what to do after he kissed you, he couldn’t handle any of it. he knew that if he spent more time around you he would fall harder, he couldn’t risk it.
“i’m sorry! now that you don’t have anyone else near for you to talk to i’m worthy of your attention? i’m so lucky, right?!” your eyes started to tear up, but you held it in, he was not getting to see you cry.
“honey, i’m sorry i didn’t talk much with you these past few months, but i tried to speak with you tonight and you didn’t even bother to answer me!” he ran his hand through his hair, looking at you as you sat down on the couch, staring at your hands.
“you didnt even look at me. the entire fucking night. one lousy ‘hey’ is not trying to do anything” he handed you a piece of paper, it was crumpled up in his jeans’ pocket. you knew he was bad with words, but the paper was written front and back. what was he even trying to do? did he think a letter was enough to fix the damage he had done?
“really? you’re a little too late for this, don’t you think?” you said, looking at him angrily.
“fine, don’t read it then. just keep it, okay?” he knew you were about to cry. it was the worst feeling he had ever felt.
“you don’t get to do this to me, james” you hold back tears once you say it.
“i know, honey, i know” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, cupping your face as you try to not melt because of his touch. he kisses you, but this time you pull away.
“no. don’t do this to me” you say, a single tear streaming down your face, he wipes it off but more tears just keep coming
“im sorry, im so sorry for everything i did and-“ you interrupt him.
“could you just try to listen?!” you shout, pulling away from his touch again. “what makes you think that i want this? after all you did, better, all that you didn’t do?! you kiss me and expect me to forget about it? expect me to be okay with you ignoring me all the time just because you kissed me again? i can’t be okay with any of this unless you actually explain to me what happened. i really try to understand you, but all of this doesn’t help!”
“i love you” he says “i have loved you all my life and i didn’t know, after i kissed you it all hit me and i couldn’t trust myself around you anymore, i didn’t want to hurt you so i pulled away, i just didn’t know it would hurt you more like that. i’m sorry, but im here now and i want to show you how much I do love you” he pauses and sits next to you on the couch.
“i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry, honey, please. is there any chance i can fix this? just tell me, please” he wipes the tears from off your face again. you knew he meant it, you just didn’t know how to trust him again.
“i don’t know” you whisper, looking into his eyes, you had never seen him look this sad. you wanted to trust him, you really did, but how could you? how could you know he wasn’t going to pull something like that again?
you couldn’t be sure of anything, you could only hope for the best and be careful. so you gave it a shot.
“come here” you say lowly, pulling him in for a hug. he buried his face in the crook of your neck and gave you small kisses.
“i’m so sorry, baby” he whispered.
“i know” you whisper back, he looks at you and gives you quick kisses all over your face. you can’t help but smile.
it was going to take a while for you to trust him again, but you knew you could.
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schrodingerscougar · 3 months
Text
Part two for this one. I'm sorry for the cliffhanger in the first part. The illustration is from the amazing @ave661 .
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--
Four months. That’s how much time it took Simon to get out of that hazy fugue state. He didn’t really remember what he had gone through during that time, his brain switched to autopilot after the breakup. He often wondered why it affected him this much when he didn’t even love you. You were just someone he spent time with, someone he tried to play house with for a short while to feel normal.
Still, now as he lay on his bed, watching the ceiling fan rotate to stir up the hot air in the room, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He even found himself opening a social media app to search for your name from a fake account he had set up a long time ago, and he was shocked to see the most recent photo of you. It was impossible to miss the unmistakable shape of a baby bump under your shirt, and based on its size, you got pregnant long months ago.
When he was finally allowed to go home for a short while, Simon went to see you. He knew he had hurt you, he knew you were probably still mad at him, but he had to know if it was his child. It only happened one time. One night when he tried to fix things by giving you what you wanted, hoping sex could make him see you in another light. Maybe he would finally want you the way you always wanted him to want you. But it didn’t work, and it was after that night he made the final decision to end things with you.
“What do you want?” you asked him when you opened the door.
Simon nodded as he bit the inside of his cheek. This cold welcome was fair enough, he deserved this kind of treatment. Normally, he would have left you alone. But normally, you would have told him you were pregnant.
So he silently pointed at your belly and waited for you to realize what he wanted. He knew you weren't dumb, the pieces would fall into place in a second. And sure enough, you let out a sigh then opened the door wider to let him in.
“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked you as he stood in the kitchen next to you with his arms crossed.
You were busy making him a cup of tea, but you took the time to silently shrug. When he let out a heavy sigh, you looked over at him and said, “I didn't think you'd care, Si. Simple as that.”
You were right. He didn't care. Even now that he was looking at you, his eyes occasionally moving to the bump that hid his own blood, his mind was somewhere else. He was a soldier, he knew how to take responsibility for his actions. You getting pregnant was his fault too. He couldn't just ignore the problem.
“I’ll pay child support,” he assured you.
“No need.”
Simon reached out to put a hand on the base of your neck, but you quickly pushed his hand away before he could touch your skin. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
You inhaled through your nose and held your breath in for a few seconds before finally exhaling. “So what? You’re gonna be around and help us? Take her to a doctor’s appointment or for a stroll around the block?” When you saw him looking down at his shoes, you couldn’t help but snort. “Thought so,” you said.
“I’ll better get going. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
Months flew by, but Simon barely noticed. He was on a mission again far from home, risking his life as usual. You never called and he didn’t force it. He accepted that he would have to live with the guilt of making this happen. Since you didn’t want to accept child support, he opened a bank account where he stored that money, hoping that one day he could give it to you or his daughter when she became old enough.
One day he checked your social media accounts like he had done a few times before, just to see how you were. This is when he saw the post in which you announced the arrival of your baby girl. He didn’t make a big deal out of it at first. She was born and she would probably ask about her father one day. If he was still alive then, he would gladly give her a toned down explanation. If not… Well, he left everything to her in his will.
Eventually he began to save the photos of his daughter and he often found himself looking at them. She was adorable, some of her features resembling his own. Her big brown eyes were definitely his; the color and the shape were both so familiar to him.
No one from the team knew about this part of his life. He had never told anyone, because why would he? They were close, they were his brothers, but you and your daughter were carefully guarded secrets in his life. Simon knew the real reason why he never talked about you; he was afraid of the judgmental looks and words.
Two months later, when he entered his apartment again after another round of deployment, Simon didn't really know what to do with himself. He ended up looking at his daughter's photos more and more often and eventually he made up his mind to give her a visit. It had absolutely nothing to do with you. He was doing this for the little girl.
You weren't welcoming but, once again, he couldn't blame you. “I just want to see my daughter,” he said softly, hoping the two of you could avoid fighting.
For long moments you were cautiously watching him, as if you were trying to decide if he could be trusted or not. But then your eyes fell on the big teddy bear he was holding with one hand and you let out a sigh of defeat.
On the way to the nursery, you didn't talk at all. The silence didn't bother him, but still he would have appreciated some words about the little girl he was about to meet. Was he allowed to pick her up? Did she like to be held? How was she? Did she have stomach ache often? Were she teething?
“Be quick,” you warned him when you stopped by her crib.
Simon let out a sigh. “Come on, don't be like that.”
You just rolled your eyes at him before taking a step back to lean your shoulder against the doorframe, arms folded over your chest, eyes watching his every move like a hawk. He found it a little too much, he hated that you didn't trust him. Sure, he hadn't given you many reasons to trust him, but for the sake of your daughter you should have tried.
With a sigh, he rested an elbow on the side of the crib and reached out to touch the baby as gently as he could with his other hand. His own flesh and blood. It was amazing, really. Without asking for permission, he picked her up and couldn't help but smile when the baby smiled at him.
Now that he was holding her close to his body, placing soft kisses on her head every so often, Simon couldn't deny that he already loved his daughter. There was an invisible string between them, something that brought her closer to him that anyone has ever been.
The baby giggled suddenly and it brought an even wider smile to Simon’s face. He could only hope you would let him see her as often as he could visit, but something told him it wouldn't be easy to convince you.
“She likes you,” you suddenly noted.
He put down the little girl then turned to you. “The feeling's mutual.” A faint smile appeared on your lips. “Can I see her some other time?” You nodded. “Thank you. If I can help with anything, just give me a call or send a message. I'll get back to you as soon as I can,” he offered.
You been to walk out of the room and he quietly followed you, waiting for you to say something. He didn't really know what he was expecting to hear, but he had a feeling you were holding back something. And sure enough, after a few minutes of silence you began to talk, scolding him for not even bothering to send at least a text to ask about her before suddenly showing up.
“I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd read them.”
“I'm mad at you, that's true,” you agreed.
Simon leaned against the doorframe as he watched you pace in the living room like a caged animal. He remembered those nights he had spent thinking about on deployment, the moment he saw that photo of you, and he realized that maybe he was missing you.
But how could he miss someone he didn't even love? Or had he developed feelings for you, feelings he tried to hide even from himself? It was way too confusing for him, and he didn't like to be confused. It was a weakness on the field and in his civilian life.
“I should go. If you need anything–”
You came to a halt, turned to him and nodded. “I know where to find you. But can I ask you something?” Simon motioned you to go on. “Why now? Why did you become interested in her all of a sudden?”
He let out a thoughtful hum as he put his hand on the back of his neck. “I saw the photos, how much she looks like me, and… I don't know.” You took a few steps closer to him, but you still kept a comfortable distance. “I've been saving money for her. I want to give you access to that bank account.”
“I don't need your money,” you were quick to say.
“It's for her. Please, accept it.”
You became mad at him, accusing him of assuming you couldn't take care of your daughter you'd been raising on your own from day one. He knew there was no point in defending himself, you were too lost in the hate you felt for him. So he just waited there in silence, letting you finish your speech.
Then, the moment you seemingly finished, he closed the gap between the two of you. He didn't know what he was doing, he just followed his instinct when he leaned down and kissed you. This was probably the first time he truly enjoyed kissing you, and it helped a lot that you were quick to return it.
Maybe this was why he wanted to come here today. To fix things. To try to get a family he'd been craving ever since he lost his own.
(part three)
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bucks-babe · 2 months
Text
More to Love
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Pairing: Bucky x f!reader
Summary: Bucky wants to take care of you in every sense of the term; so what if you gain a bit of extra fat because of it?
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings: Slight angst, mentions of past relationships, kind of told in flashbacks, shitty ex boyfriend who forces reader to lose weight (not Bucky), Bucky is so in love it hurts, Bucky takes care of his woman, body insecurity, weight gain because of a healthy relationship, smut, CMNF (only for a little bit), looking in the mirror while on Bucky’s lap (yes, that needs a warning), crying during sex, daddy kink, soft!dom Bucky, so much fluff, no use of Y/N, Bucky calls reader love, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do that), implied creampie, Bucky loves his girl’s tummy, emotions.
A/N: This is NOT fetishizing weight gain, nor unhealthy habits. Bucky is not forcing the reader to gain weight to make her attractive to him; he loves his girl at any weight and just wants to take care of her. I made this fic because I want to feel like the parts of my body that I’m insecure about can still be desirable. Also this turned out way softer than the drabble, but there is still smut going on. Thank you to the amazing @buckys-wintersoldier for beta reading; however, any and all mistakes are my own.
Ever since you started dating Bucky, you have noticed how different he is compared to your previous partners. Not just because he is a 6 foot something brick house, but also in the way he treats you. You’ve never experienced such raw and untamed love directed solely at you, or the way his eyes seem to bore into your soul, memorizing every quirk and tick you possess. It’s almost overwhelming how much he loves you.
Never before have you felt so comfortable in a relationship. Previous boyfriends never really felt like boyfriends, rather personal trainers. Maybe you were bad at picking them out, but your last partner was a gym rat, constantly obsessing over what he was eating and how many hours he put into the gym that week. The obsession he had for the gym followed through into your relationship. If you wanted to spend time with him, it had to be at the gym. 
He would construct fitness plans for you, saying that the softness of your stomach needed to go to make him happy, and you let him. You don’t know why you let him weasel his way into your head, but he did. Eventually, it went past the gym, and he would only allow you to go to a certain restaurant to eat because the others had way too many unhealthy options, side-eyeing you for ordering a side of fries instead of a salad. Cooking at home became a battle since you weren’t supposed to eat anything fatty or fried, nothing you did was ever good enough for him. 
Over the course of that relationship you did end up losing the extra weight you had, but also weight that you didn’t need to lose, and soon you were “too skinny” and “didn’t have enough meat on your bones for him.” He left you soon after - over text. It was something along the lines of, “I wanted to see if I could make you attractive, but you don’t look good, fat or skinny.” It crushed you. The man that you thought you were in love with, and who loved you, broke your heart. You never gained the weight back, hoping against hope that he could come back and realize he was wrong about you. He never did.
It took you a long time to get over that piece of shit, but what he said about your body never left - you were still terrified to gain weight. But then you met Bucky, and for a while you forgot about that asshole. You had the sweetest, sexiest, kindest man that you were able to call yours, so why would you even think about your past?  It started so slow you didn’t even notice until it was too late. 
You groaned, stretching out in bed, arm reaching out for your boyfriend, only to find his side of the bed cold and empty. Squinting, you try to open your eyes, sunlight forcing them to close. After a few tries, you get them open and look at the time - 7:19. Bucky must be back from his morning run. Searching the floor for his henley, you walk into the kitchen to find Bucky cutting up your favorite fruit in a bowl, shirtless. The both of you know that he can hear you walk up to him, hell he probably heard you the moment you woke up, but he humors you when you wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head on his shoulder as he jumps in surprise.
“What’cha doing, honey,” you murmur into his back, peppering it with kisses.
“Makin’ something to eat after runnin’ with Steve all mornin’. Hope I didn’t wake ya up, Love.” You feel the shiver that shoots up his spine at your touch.
“No, I was just about to get up anyway, just so happens that I woke up to this sight.” 
Bucky turns only his head to look down at you, a crooked smile adorning his scruffy face, “And you can wake up to it every day. Now how about you go sit your pretty little ass down on the couch and get our show ready? I’ll be there in a minute.”
You place a chaste kiss to his cheek before slapping his ass on the way out earning a glare from him. Bucky knows that you don’t eat in the morning but he has devised a plan because you not eating in the morning will follow to you only eating at dinner tonight. 
You hear his heavy foot fall as you’re getting comfy on the couch only for him to pick you up and rest his back against the arm of the couch, setting you down in his lap, his chest to your back. He ignores your squeals and settles down. 
While you are watching your show, Bucky is watching you, and before you know it, a piece of pineapple is passing your lips. Chewing happily, you don’t even notice that Bucky has you eating until the deep rumble of ‘good girl’ is whispered in your ear. A deep throb settles in your core as you continue to eat each piece he puts in your mouth, desperate to hear his praise again and again.
That was how it started, Bucky feeding you in the mornings. But it slowly progressed from that. He was always making sure that you’ve eaten your three meals a day, no if, ands or buts. You were an Avenger after all so of course you needed to eat to stay healthy with all the missions and training you go through. Bucky noticed the pudge on your belly coming back way before you did.
“Love, what is this movie even about? I’m so confused.” The smile in his voice was impossible to miss. With him against the headboard and your back resting against his chest, you couldn’t see his face. Whatever explanation you gave, Bucky didn’t hear a word of it. As you repositioned in his lap, you sat up, just a bit, but his hands on your stomach felt it, the small bit of fat soft and warm in his hands. 
To this day you have no idea why Bucky stripped off both of your clothes and pounded you for hours, but he did, and that little bit of soft flesh made him go a little crazy.
During this time you didn’t even realize that you were gaining your weight back because for the first time since you met your last boyfriend, you had so much more energy. You didn’t need extra naps throughout the day, or feel dead tired after doing absolutely nothing. Now, your body had enough nutrients to function properly, the hump of your belly was there because you were healthy. You’ve had it all your life, nothing getting rid of it. To you it made you feel like you were fat, but to Bucky, oh, it showed him that you were a strong, healthy woman.
Everyday after training, you would boast to him about how much better you’ve been doing in training, claiming Natasha said so. Of course you have always been a very capable agent, but now that you had enough fuel to support the vigorous Avenger training, you’ve been doing better than ever, and Bucky couldn’t have been more proud; however, it all came to a head when you finally caught on to your weight gain.
Fresh out of the shower, you head over to your closet. It was no special occasion but Bucky being the perfect boyfriend that he is, wanted to take you out on a date, just because. After finding Bucky’s favorite pair of lingerie and putting them on, you huff. You don’t remember the bottoms feeling so tight. You passed it off however, thinking that maybe you did something to them in the wash.
But what you couldn’t ignore was how your favorite dress wasn’t fitting. It took way too much wiggling to get it past your hips and waist. What really set you off though, was that you couldn’t zip it. Already too tight on you before zipping, now you couldn’t get the damn thing to move more than an inch. Looking in the mirror you found the reason why the zipper refused to move. The small pocket of fat on your tummy that you thought you got rid of, was back, and larger than it ever was. 
Turning to the side, you saw just how much it was coming out. You could’ve sworn you were a few months pregnant. How could you have missed this? It took a while, but you got the dress off so you could investigate the fat on your stomach. Gasping, you tried to suck in, in the hope that it would disappear. It didn’t.
Tears sprung in your eyes. How could Bucky find this attractive? Why hasn’t he said anything about this? How could you let yourself go like this? All these horrible thoughts raced through your head, before you heard Bucky’s sweet voice through the door asking if you were ready.
All of those little moments lead you to where you are now, standing in front of your mirror crying, while Bucky patiently waits on the other side of the door, thinking all is right with the world, as yours is falling apart right before your eyes. Before you can hide yourself, Bucky opens the door. Immediately, you move to cover yourself up, disgusted with the shape of your body hoping that he doesn’t look at what you can’t cover. Bucky, however, looks directly into your eyes first, seeing the pain and tears.
In two steps he reaches you and his strong arms envelop you, hands running up and down your back. “Love, what’s wrong?” You only bury your face in his chest further. He walks back to the bed, pulling you in his lap as he sits. Your naked body pressed up against his fully clothed one. Bucky’s right palm slides down your back and he tries to squeeze your waist when you jerk away from him.
“No! Don’t touch me there!” Bucky feels his heart crack in his chest at your repulsion, not understanding why you don’t want him to touch your waist. He doesn’t let you leave his lap however, keeping you in place.
“Why, Love? What did I do?” 
“You didn’t do anything. Look at my stomach, Buck!” You bite back another sob when he does, confusion written all over his face, not understanding what you’re trying to convey. “It’s FAT!” You all but scream, failing at trying to escape when his arms pull you down once again.
“Love…” He gets cut off by another sob falling from your lips. Instead of trying to talk you down, Bucky brings your lips to his and keeps your head in place. The only movement is the wobble of your lower lip as you try to contain your sobs. 
A few minutes pass by before Bucky can’t stand it anymore, and he tilts your head and moves his lips. The kiss tastes of your tears but neither of you care. Clawing at his back, you try to get closer to him, wanting him to consume you. 
When his hands trail down your sides, you pull away. Strong arms spin you around, naked back to clothed chest. The warm palm of his right hand forces you to look at yourself in the mirror.
“Buc..”
“No, Love. Look at how fucking sexy you are.” With his right hand still holding your chin, his left trails down your body, stopping over the swell of your tummy. “So goddamn pretty, you know that?” He whispers in your ear, kissing down your neck, cock twitching under your ass.
He spreads his legs, forcing yours to open as well and he groans deep and long at the sight of your pussy. “God, Love, don’t you see how pretty you are, so soft and strong and all mine.” You try to pull away, the feeling of looking at yourself too much, but Bucky’s strong hands don’t let you move an inch. “Feel what you do to me? Feel how hard my cock is?”
 It’s too much, all of it. His praise, his touch, the sight of you. More tears well in your eyes and a pitiful whine leaves you. “Can’t, Bucky. I-I…” You have to close your eyes; you can't look at yourself any longer.
“Shhh, Love, you can, baby. Let Daddy take care of you. Let him show you how pretty you are. Open your eyes for Daddy.” At his request, you open your eyes, only to find his already on you. With tears still pouring from your eyes, Bucky wipes them away before laying you down on your back. 
If there was anyone who knew your limits better than yourself, it was Bucky. He knows that having you look at yourself right now would only do more harm than good, but showing you how much he loves you is a whole different story. Before laying down with you, Bucky takes his clothes off, needing to feel you against his bare skin. “I love you so fucking much, you know that? Never met a stronger,” Bucky plants a kiss on your cheek, “more beautiful,” another kiss, “smarter, sweeter, perfect woman in all my life.” 
With each kiss you can't tell if your erratic heart is slowing down or speeding up. This is such a foreign feeling for you, such unbridled love. Your head falls deeper into the pillows, Bucky’s scent enveloping all your senses, and you can’t think properly, your brain feeling fuzzy at the heedy stare Bucky is giving you.
“Daddy, I don’t, I can’t.” You don’t even know what you are trying to say, words no longer coming to you, but Bucky does, he always knows what you need.
“I know, Love. You just need Daddy to make you feel better, make you see how perfect you are for him.” Wrapping his arms around your back, he pulls you in closer to him, both of you gasping when his hard cock presses up against your naked core. Without thought, you grind your hips up, chasing the friction of his silky skin.
“All those tears, and all you wanted was Daddy’s cock, huh? Just want Daddy to fuck you dumb, turn that little brain off for you? Don’t worry, Love, Daddy’ll take care of you.” You wrap your arms and legs around him, pulling him closer, not leaving any space between the two of you, the hard planes of his abdomen pressed against the soft swell of yours.
Bucky doesn’t wait for you to beg, he can’t, not now, he needs to be inside of you, lining himself up, he pushes in, inch by perfect inch.”Shit, Love, you feel how perfect you are for me?”
Your lips part, letting a breathy whine out. Bucky doesn’t wait, slowly pulling out until only his plush tip is still inside, just to roll his hips back in. “Fuck. Look at Daddy, look at what you do to him.” It takes everything in your power to open your eyes and look at Bucky, the pleasure almost too much just after one thrust, but when you do, the sight that meets you is glorious. Face flushed, brows drawn together, lips parted, Bucky looked debauched. 
“Good girl, see that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Without warning, Bucky rolls the both of you over, with you on his lap. “Since you listen to Daddy so well, why don’t you ride his cock, let him look at his pretty girl bounce?” This snaps you out of your stupor, there’s no way you’re going to let him see your stomach jiggle.
“Bucky, I can’t, not this way. What about the other way?” You try to turn around, but his left hand grabs your waist while his right lands a harsh slap to your ass causing you to clench around him. 
“Ah, ah, ah, Daddy wants to see your face. You hear me?” Before you can complain again, Bucky thrusts his hips up, hard. You both moan, caught up in the sensation of his cock inside of you. Your hands fly to his chest, trying to balance yourself before you tumble off. Bucky doesn’t let up, thrust after thrust, pounding into your pussy.
“Oh, fuck! Daddy, right there, shit, please!” You don’t know what you’re begging for, just that you don’t want him to stop. The room is filled with the salacious sounds of your combined moans along with the clapclapclap of his thighs meeting your ass.
“So fucking good, Love, you know that? This pussy was made for me. Fucking perfect. Look at this little belly jiggling while I fuck you, shit, gonna make me blow my fucking load early. You’re. So. Fucking. Gorgeous.” Each word was punctuated by a vicious thrust. Ice pours down your spine, in the midst of pleasure you completely forgot why you didn’t want to do this position. He’s fucking staring right at your belly, hands gripping at your extra fat, just watching it ripple with each brutal thrust of his hips.
“Bucky stop, don’t look there, I don’t…” The rest of your sentence gets cut off when Bucky somehow fucks you even harder, effectively making your tummy move more. It’s too much: the feral look in his eyes, the perfect angle of his cock, and his beautiful moans. Despite your best efforts, you feel your orgasm building up. The little coil hidden under the small hump of your belly pulls tighter and tighter, and Bucky can feel it. He can feel your pussy pulsing around him so he moves his hands from your belly to your hips, grinding them against his coarse hairs with sharp thrust.
It pulls tighter and tighter until it snaps, dragging you under, blood roaring through your ears. You vaguely hear Bucky’s voice, “There you go, give it to Daddy. So good for me, soaking my cock. God, I fucking love you.” Bucky stops moving, giving you time to come down from your high. Still gasping for air, you fall down onto his sweaty chest, basking in the afterglow of your orgasm. You’re pulled out of your haze by Bucky. “Think you can give me one more? I think you can.”
He flips you over, back landing on the bed while he throws your legs over his shoulders, effectively causing your stomach to roll up, small pockets of fat pushing out. You whine, not wanting Bucky to see it, but he fucking loves this. Loves the bit of extra fat that has found its way under your chin, the soft flesh around your strong thighs, and the belly that fits perfectly in his hands. He loves it because it proves your healthy, that he’s feeding you well, well enough that you can train to your full potential, have the energy to do what you want to, not always be so tired you don’t want to do the things you love to do, that you aren’t afraid to eat what you want. That’s what he fucking loves, taking care of you and the way your body has changed has absolutely zero affect on his attraction to you. He will always think you are the most beautiful woman in the entire universe.
“Love, you don’t understand how fucking sexy you are, do you? Look at how well we fit together.” He cups the back of your head, making you look at your stomach as he enters you again, making your belly bulge more. “Do you see this, Love? See how pretty you are, and it's all for me, isn’t it?” The adoration in his eyes was almost too much, the swell in your chest threatening to burst as tears welled up in your eyes, feeling his love with every stroke. Bucky wasn’t fucking you anymore, he was making love to you, showing you how much you mean to him. 
Bucky takes one of your hands in his, lacing your fingers together, placing your hand on your tummy, feeling the bulge of his cock underneath your softness. “Daddy, feels so good. Fuck. Love you so much.” Bucky’s hips stutter when you say you love him, it has always been his weakness, the utter devotion and vulnerability that you allow him to experience is something he will never take for granted. Tears were streaming down your face, eyes probably red and puffy. Leaning forward, Bucky places his forehead on yours, eyes locked into yours.
“I know, Love. Can’t even begin to describe how much I love you.” Bucky can feel you getting closer again, pussy clenching around him, hands scrambling to grab onto something: his hair, back, hands, sheets, you can’t decide, the pleasure coursing through you too much. “Give it to me Love, make your Daddy proud and cum on his cock. Know you want to, just let go.” With two more thrusts, your eyes roll back, another orgasm rolling through you. This one shorter than the last, but no less intense. Bucky finds his release right after, burrowing his face into your neck, holding you to him, wanting to be as close as possible. 
It takes a few minutes, but the both of you calm down, hearts returning back to normal. You’re the first to speak, breaking the comfortable silence. “You knew I was gaining weight, didn’t you?” With his softening cock still buried deep inside you, Bucky lifts his head up a small smirk adorning his face. 
“Of course, but this little pudge,” he grabs your tummy and almost kneads it, “is because you’re healthy. You have so much more energy recently, and I fall deeper in love with you every single time I see how fucking happy you are now. You make me so proud to be able to call myself your boyfriend. You're so beautiful and I promise you that I will spend everyday for the rest of my life proving that to you.”
You don’t have any words to respond, so you just wrap your arms around him, breathing in his scent. And of course Bucky keeps true to his promise, and you believe him when he tells you that you are the most beautiful woman because he proves it to you everyday, in and outside of the bedroom.
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awearywritersworld · 7 months
Text
there can be no covenants between men and lions
ryomen sukuna x reader summary: sukuna would rather contemplate your murder than come to terms with his feelings for you, but you call him out on his bullshit. w/c: 3k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. angst to fluff. aged up!yuuji. heavy kissing. features yuuji x reader and he is, of course, best boy. cursing. sukuna decides he wants to kill you (so obviously there are mentions of murder and such) but cant even stand the sight of you upset, what a goof. i'd once again like to think sukuna's not too ooc in this but im still more than likely delusional. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: i was so touched by all of the love that part one received, i wanted to try my hand at part two. i hope i've done it justice! just as part one references homer's the odyssey, this references homer's the illiad because sukuna is very hot and well read. achilles, the protagonist of the novel, is discussed. i'm definitely open to writing a part three, because this one is much heavier on the angst and i miss soft sukuna from part one. series masterlist // masterlist
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you and yuuji rarely argue, but when you do, it's often over his aversion toward seriousness, even when a situation calls for it. though you really should have kept your mouth shut, because in this moment, you'd give anything to see his typical carefree expression.
his eyes are regarding you intently, taking in your flustered appearance with knitted brows.
"yuuji..." you trail off, wracking your brain for an explanation of your current predicament.
despite the fact he regained control of his body only moments ago, one of his hands is curled around the back of your neck, while the other is resting on your hip.
"baby, what happened?" he presses, the tone of his voice entirely unreadable.
"s-sukuna," is all you can manage to choke out.
his eyes darken immediately, his jaw tensing in a way that intimidates you. "he hurt you."
you really can't tell if it's a question or a statement, and your response comes a little too quickly. "no! that's not... no."
the next few seconds tick by in a slow sort of agony, heat creeping up your cheeks.
he notices for the first time that his head is eerily quiet. no snide remarks, no scathing commentary. just his own thoughts as he pieces together the situation.
his gaze drops to the angry, red marks littering your neck and you watch in helpless horror as understanding passes his features.
"oh."
the word hangs in the air as you await his reaction, fully anticipating disgust and betrayal. you're positive it's only a matter of time before he throws you out of the apartment and tells you to never come back.
what you don't expect, however, is the way his shoulders relax as the tension leaves his face.
he straightens himself, arms falling to his sides, but he doesn't put any distance between your bodies.
"how long have you...?" he's not quite sure how to phrase the question.
"a few months. this was the first time anything... um... happened. we usually just talk."
he tilts his head to the side, so you clarify. "after you've fallen asleep."
mulling over the information, he hums in response, looking thoughtful for a few more seconds. then, his usual demeanor is back and he grabs your hand. "wanna get dinner? i'm starving!"
he tugs you a few feet toward the door before you come to your senses. "woah, woah. wait a second, yu."
when he looks back at you expectantly, you find that his face holds not one hint of bitterness or judgement. "aren't you angry?"
you're amazed to find that he's the one looking sheepish.
"how could i be? it's not exactly easy to be with me when i have a thousand year old curse rattling around in my body, but you stay anyway," he expresses, making your heart soften. "i just want you to be safe, so i'll take whatever relationship the two of have now over him being a threat to you."
as your hands reach up to cradle his face and your eyes sparkle with adoration, you briefly wonder how you ever found such a sweet man. he places a quick kiss to your lips, the smile on his face easy going as ever. "sooooo, i'm thinking takoyaki or maybe udon—"
"we can get whatever you want," you glance at the spatters of blood across his chest left there from the mission, no doubt from sukuna's careless slaughter. "as long as you go wash up first."
"right!" he agrees quickly, bounding off to the bathroom.
you stand alone in the middle of your living room, left with the ghost of both yuuji and sukuna's lips against yours and a sense of bewildered excitement.
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back in his prison, however, sukuna is furious with himself. he should have let you die that day he kept you from being run over. better yet, he should have killed you with his own hands before the brat won back control of his body.
he is a terrible being that delights in carnage, a fact that's well known even centuries later. so why, when he could have done anything in the world, did he go to you? you even asked that same question before you—
he rejects the memory of you pressing your lips to his disdainfully.
your foolishness and your naivete are revolting. your softness and your pliancy are nauseating.
he shouldn't have been anywhere near you, if not to rip your obnoxious heart from your chest like he'd always planned. it was a situation he'd dreamt about and now it's slipped through his fingers, even though those same fingers had graced your fragile little neck.
you were nothing more than a clueless mouse in the jaws of a snake, and though the pains of hunger have been tearing at its stomach for years now, the serpent let itself starve.
sukuna retreats to his domain, fingers prodding at his temples irritably. he allows himself to wallow for a few hours, shutting out both you and the brat.
then, steeling his resolve, he begins to watch and wait like the predator he knows himself to be.
lulled into a false sense of security regarding your safety, it's clear that yuuji has let his guard down. just barely so, but enough that sukuna can see a few weaknesses in his chains. ironic seeing that, now more than ever, the king of curses wants you dead.
it goes without saying that he promptly ceases his nightly interactions with you. it's beneath him, wasting his time with a human. he knows that now.
but while he may not speak to you, he cannot refrain from stealing glances as the days stretch on. you're usually reading, completely oblivious to his watchful eye. he convinces himself it's simply to keep tabs on you, as he's deemed you his foremost enemy.
he's not sure how much time has passed when you begin calling out for him in hushed whispers after yuuji falls asleep, the hurt and confusion in your voice plain to him. it's irksome, and evidently, you're incapable of taking a hint.
his silence becomes more painful with each turn of the moon. you're a bit mortified to find that you genuinely miss him, so you just want answers. did he finally realize that you're nothing special, not worth bothering with?
eventually, growing restless, you all but beg him. "sukuna, please. talk to me. what happened? what'd i do wrong?" his chest tightens with what he believes is vexation. "you can't just make me like you and then disappear. you can't kiss me like that and then—"
"you insolent, maddening little creature!" his eye flies open just in time to see you gasp, your body jerking away from him. "shut up already! can't you see i want nothing to do with you? don't you tire of being pathetic?"
you don't dignify him with a response, swallowing thickly and turning away from him.
finally, he thinks, some fucking quiet. though if he's gotten what he wanted, why does his chest still ache?
he stares at the back of your form until the sun rises.
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sukuna is no simpleton. he can be patient when he is sure of a reward, but he's thrilled that the perfect opportunity arises just two days after your encounter.
yuuji is exhausted. gojo kept him out all last night, despite the grueling mission he had today, and when he all but stumbles through your apartment door, the moon is already high in the sky.
you never mention the change in your relationship with sukuna to yuuji. even though he was so understanding, you still feel a touch awkward discussing it further. and maybe in the back of your mind, you're holding out hope that it might go back to the way it was.
sukuna watches through yuuji's eyes when you greet him, your expression half concern and half 'i told you so'. nights out with gojo usually lead to this very situation.
he showers while you finish cooking dinner and once you both eat, he helps you clean up despite his exhaustion. after whispering his thanks and pressing a kiss to your temple, he retires to bed.
you promise you'll join him soon, but sukuna knows it probably isn't true. following his outburst, you've taken to staying in the living room until you're ready to sleep.
yuuji's out before his head hits the pillow and nearly two hours later, you're still not in bed. sukuna's eager, but waits until he's sure the brat's deep in his slumber before he tries to take over. it's relatively easy, and he pushes down yuuji's unconscious mind as far as he can before rising to his feet.
this is finally it. he stretches his limbs lazily, a dangerous smirk settling on his lips. the floor creaks with each step he takes, but he pays no mind to stealth. you're no match for him.
tonight, you'll be his first victim of many and the thought of making up for his past misjudgement has him giddy with excitement.
but the sight that greets him upon exiting the bedroom— you curled into yourself on the couch, your shoulders shaking with quiet sobs— it stops him in his tracks.
he wants to move, more than anything, so what the fuck is wrong with him? is the brat taking over already?
and why is that uncomfortable sensation making it's home in the center of his chest once more?
when you notice his presence, your face shifts to him and reveals your wide, teary eyes. it's clear you're surprised by his appearance, but you quickly bury your face in your knees.
you just want him to leave you alone. you hate him for what he said, for what he did. he forced his way into your life, made you care about him, and then he just vanished. he's cruel and you feel like an idiot because you should have known that from the beginning. or maybe you did and he just made you forget.
"go away. i.. i don't want to see you."
he's disbelieving, for a brief moment, that here you are giving him orders while he stands in the doorway with the intention of taking your life.
he moves toward you, invading your space in a way that is meant to be intimidating, but when you look up at him, every emotion ranging from sadness to rejection to indignation is etched into your features. though the terror he hoped to inspire is noticeably absent.
"i said go away!" you swiftly stand up, your hands meeting squarely with his chest as you push him with every ounce of power you have.
you may as well have shoved a brick wall, as he doesn't move even a fraction of an inch. he seizes one of your wrists anyway.
"what is it you think you're doing, exactly?" he spits.
"let go of me!" you beat against his chest with the hand he left free until his fingers wrap around that wrist too.
"enough."
he's certain there isn't a being that has attacked him (if he can even call that an attack) and lived to speak of it, not once in an entire millennia.
so just end the insolent brat and be done with it, he urges himself.
but he can't and he doesn't understand why, so he just stares down at you.
"what the fuck do you want?" you mean for it to come out forcefully and full of spite, but your voice cracks before you can finish.
an excellent question, indeed. what does he want?
he doesn't answer you and it's so goddamn frustrating that you begin to cry again, rambling to fill the discomforting silence. "you've already told me i'm pitiful and annoying. it's clear you think my company is insufferable, that i'm undesirable—"
that ache in his chest is unbearable now. it claws at his ribcage and shreds the flesh of his heart. it makes his stomach twist uncomfortably and rings shrilly in his ears. he can't even hear you anymore, but he can still see the tears sliding down your cheeks and the way you gasp between words.
the truth of the matter crashes down on him and the devastating weight of it is so crushing it squeezes the air from his lungs.
that feeling in his chest isn't annoyance or repugnance. its anguish— the kind that rattles his bones and leaves him sick with regret.
it's because you're in pain, and worse yet, he is the cause of it.
sukuna pushes you back against the wall before you can comprehend what's happening. his hands find either side of your face and you're alarmed to find that he looks... frightened.
"what are you doing to me?" he pleads for an explanation, because he sure as hell doesn't have one.
how can one little human hold such power over him? it's unnatural. it defies all logic and reason.
you stare at him, open mouthed. his face is so close that his breath fans across your skin and it makes you feel dizzy.
"what are you talking about?" you finally ask.
"you should be dead right now," he frets, despair seeping into every word. "it should be easy."
it dawns on you that you should probably feel afraid, but you just don't. his touch is firm, but careful. and there's no malice to be found behind his eyes. "you're not making any sense."
he thinks back on the time you've spent together, trying to figure out how the hell he ended up here— him at your mercy, rather than you at his. he remembers the first time he made you laugh and considers that it may have been the beginning of his unraveling. for the following two weeks, you both discussed homer at length as you made your way through his poetry.
"there can be no covenants between men and lions. wolves and lambs can never be of one mind, but hate each other through and through." you blink at him, recognizing at once that he's quoting the illiad. his voice is low and unsteady in a way that suggests desperation. it makes you shiver. "therefore there can be no understanding between you and me, nor may there be any covenants between us, till one or other shall fall."
your eyes narrow as you begin to understand his his internal struggle, though you're unsure if he's attempting to reason with you or with himself.
"you quote achilles, and rightfully so i suppose, given your common qualities— exasperating pride and a penchant for meaningless violence." he looks relieved, like your seeming agreement eases his mind. it's short lived. "but you forget his passion."
his gaze shifts away from you, his hands withdrawing from your face.
"his passion?" he repeats as if it's the most incredulous thing he's ever heard.
"by the end of the story, is he not acquainted with regret, sympathy, and respect? he doesn't remain blind to the error of his ways forever."
"only a foolish human could make such fanciful deductions," he chides through gritted teeth, still refusing to meet your eye.
you actually laugh at him. "perhaps you shouldn't call upon achilles to make your point after all. at least he grows out of his utterly childish view of the world."
"how dare you?" he demands, his features growing wild as one hand finds your throat (his touch not nearly harsh enough to cause you any discomfort), the other colliding with the wall beside your head. his display doesn't fool you though. "you witless, wretched brat! you're nothing more than a blip in a universe you cannot even begin to understand. you sicken me."
you throw achilles' words in his face just as easily as he did to you. "hateful to me as the gates of hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another."
his gaze hardens, and for a split second, you think you may have been mistaken in your fearlessness, but then his fingers thread themselves through your hair and he pulls your lips to his.
it's rough and commanding, and he tells himself it's only to get you to shut up. to wipe that expression of smug pity from your face.
it's not because, despite the fact you know how awful he is, you're convinced there's something salvageable in him too. nor is it because you tyrannize his every passing thought. and it's certainly not because the feeling of you pressed against him brings him more satisfaction than ripping the hearts from the chests of a hundred men.
ultimately, his denial is overshadowed by his desire. your touch is nothing short of needy as you tug at his shirt, an attempt to bring him even closer, and god does he hope that means you feel just as desperate as he does. he deserves at least a little consolation.
as his hands roam every valley and curve of your body, he deems it unfair that a being whose very existence spells hell on earth should be so taken with such a devastatingly divine creature.
"i've wanted you so terribly," he mumbles against your mouth before he can stop himself.
"then fuck you for making us both wait," you breath out.
his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips in response and his lips shift to your neck. "watch that pretty little mouth of yours, brat."
he nips at the spot just below your ear hard enough that it makes you gasp, doubtless a punishment for your impudence. you recover quickly though, wasting no time with your flippant reply. "or what? you'll go back to plotting my murder?"
he pulls away from you abruptly, sighing deeply and pinching the bridge of his nose. "you truly have zero sense of self preservation, don't you?"
"guess so," you shrug, smiling at him bashfully. "can we watch a movie? i'll even let you pick."
you ask as if it's the most normal request in the world. as if he isn't a thousand year old curse that would be off turning the city to ash were he not here with you instead.
he rolls his eyes, scoffing at the ridiculousness of it all. "fine."
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babyleostuff · 7 months
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hi! I was wondering if you would write an angst svt reaction about them saying something they didn’t mean in a fight but it just came out?
i decided to do this with the hhu, if you want me to do it with any of the other units let me know!
saying something they didn’t mean in a fight | hip hop unit
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ CHOI SEUNGCHEOL 
as a leo and a fire sing myself, i’m sure that cheol can be a bit impulsive and not think his actions through, especially if it’s during a fight where his emotions are all over the place. things would get heated really quickly with him, and he’d have a hard time holding his tongue. 
“shit, baby,” he reached for your hand, eyes wide and panicked. “don’t fucking call me that seungcheol,” you pulled your wrist out of his grasp, looking at him with an expression that made his heart shutter to million pieces. 
he knew the second the words left his mouth that he shouldn't have said them, but his brain was too slow to understand that, and the heat of the argument made him lose all of his common sense. “my precious baby, i’ve hurt them,” that would be the thought that’d run through his mind, as he tried to wrap his head around what he had just done. “just… leave me alone.”
and he’d do that. he’d give you as much time as you needed, but that wouldn’t mean he’d abandon you. cheol would make you your favourite ramyeon and place it at the nightstand next to your bed where you were resting, or he’d put his hoodie in the dryer you always wore after shower, so it’d be warm and cosy. 
and he’d take his pillow and blanket from your bed to sleep on the couch, so he wouldn’t make you uncomfortable, and so that you could rest peacefully. but then, after maybe an hour of tossing and turning, seungcheol would hear quiet footsteps, and a dog's paws running across the wooden floor, meaning you couldn’t sleep as well. 
you’d lay next to seungcheol, your back pressed against his warm chest, as his arms shyly sneaked around your waist to pull you even closer. “please, let’s never fight like that again,” you murmured, pulling one of cheol’s hands under your chin, nuzzling your nose against his palm.
 *ੈ✩‧₊˚ JEON WONWOO 
honestly, i have a hard time imagining wonwoo saying something he doesn’t mean. i feel like he always thinks before he talks, no matter what situation he’s in, and he strikes me as a person who is great at keeping his emotions at bay, contrary to cheol. he’d also have this thought at the back of his head that no fight is worth hurting you with his words. 
you looked at each other in confusion, as the words left wonwoo’s mouth. never in your whole relationship had he said anything like that, so you were taken aback more by the fact that he even said it more than that it was directed towards you. 
wonwoo nervously fixed his glasses, looking as lost as you. you could almost see his brain trying to understand what had just happened. “i’m sorry i… i didn’t mean what i just said,” he looked at you, eyes big and sad. 
you sighed, and grabbed his hand intertwining your fingers. “i know you didn’t mean it baby” you said, looking at his broken expression. “but you still said it.” his eyes got even wider, and he quickly cradled your face in his hands, running his thumb over your cheeks. 
“i know that no matter what i say won’t change what i did, but you have to know that no part of my mind and soul believes in what i said. that was just a stupid intrusive thought that i shouldn’t have said.” 
even though you said you forgave him, wonwoo was still very attentive to you for the rest of the evening - he had you on his lap for the whole time he was gaming, he made sure the sweatshirt you wore to bed was one of his best ones, and he cuddled you extra close to his chest that night.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ KIM MINGYU 
another fire sign, and as cheol (this might be an unpopular opinion?), might also have issues with controlling his emotions and words during heated arguments. like, i know he’s an amazing person with the best personality, etc. etc. BUT i see gyu as someone who is very defensive of his beliefs and point of views, and i think he can get quite stubborn, which can lead to him saying things he doesn’t really mean.
mingyu knew he shouldn’t have opened his mouth - both of you were consumed by your emotions and neither of you were thinking clearly. the only difference was that he let those emotions hurt you. 
“i didn’t… i don’t…,” he whispered, looking at your shattered expression. yeah, he couldn’t believe it either that those horrendous words left his mouth. you closed your eyes tightly, a single tear rolling down your cheek. the person who you trusted with your life broke your heart just like that, but you wouldn’t cry in front of him. he didn’t deserve a single tear after what he had done. 
you held your head high up as you turned around and started walking towards the door. “no, no please,” mingyu followed after you, catching up with you quickly. “don’t leave my love. hate me, yell at me, punch me, but don’t leave,” his eyebrows were furrowed and eyes glossy, and you knew that he was trying not to cry as well. 
“i’ll take the couch for tonight, but stay. i won’t let you walk out, it’s too dangerous.” 
he cradled your head in his hands, and pecked your forehead gently, before disappearing in the bedroom to take his pillow and an extra blanket.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ CHWE VERNON 
same with wonwoo, i don’t see vernon saying something he doesn’t mean. like, i don’t think his mind even works that way. for one - arguments with him are never heated, not because he doesn’t give a fuck, but his personality and mindset are so calm and collected in itself that neither of you even have a chance to raise your voices.
“i’m sorry,” he stared at his shoes, too scared to look at you. “i’ll leave you alone.” 
he quietly closed the front door behind him, leaving you alone in your apartment, confused and sad. vernon rarely got angry, especially at you, and you had never heard him raise his voice. you had a stupid fight that probably started over something stupid, but both of you were tired and irritated and you just snapped at each other.
but you didn’t mean for him to leave. 
later that night, when the sun had already set, vernon came back home as quietly as he left. “chwe hansol, where the fuck have you been?” you exclaimed, worried to death. You threw your arms around hiis neck, pulling him close to you. You shivered as he nuzzled his cold nose into your neck, placing a gentle kiss there. 
“you know i didn’t mean what i said, right?” he asked, pulling his face away from you. “of course, silly,” you smiled at him, caressing the back of his neck. “but never leave like that again, or i’ll kick you out myself.”
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