#hoping that I dont fall on anything sharp

[emmyrosee]

helloooe i don’t know if u write for gojo (i’m new in your blog and haven’t seen gojo posts lately or maybe i haven’t scrolled far) and saw that your looking for angsty requests, can i request angst as in the different levels of gojo and reader, that gojo is so powerful and that the world constantly needs him so he can’t give reader enough attention, in a way actually hit them both in their relationship?

if not, it’s okay, i hope you’re doing fine!!

GOJO ANGST MY BELOVED-

---

"If you leave, you will come home to an empty house."

The warning falls confidently from your lips, as if premeditated and ready to be released into the air at any given trigger. Satoru stops getting his shoes on and turns to face you. Your eyes hold nothing but exhaustion, eyes under your bags dark and the lifelessness in your face sends a shiver through him. Had you looked so worn out all day?

"What... did you just say?" He whispers, brows pinching in the center in betrayal.

"You heard me. If you leave me right now, without a second thought of my regard, you will come back to nothing from me but my scent and this memory of us."

Thirty seconds ago, he smearing frosting on your nose and when you pushed him away, he’d peppered kisses over your face and fingers dug in your sides. Thirty seconds ago, you'd been interrupted in your baking by the man who would move mountains and swim oceans for you, only for his phone to ring just seconds later, calling him away like it always does.

Thirty seconds ago, he was kissing the laughter from your lips. Now, you’re threatening him.

You're cruel for this predicament, this choice and this bomb to be dropped on him mere seconds from him leaving for who even knows how long. But it doesn’t matter to him. You knew what you were getting into, and it’s not his fault he’s needed more often than not.

You should love him no matter what. As he does you.

He swallows thickly, "don't do this. Not right now."

You shrug, "this is your choice. Not mine. You know my terms.”

Bile rises up his throat and his hands tremble before fisting themselves into a little ball, "this is your choice, you doing this right now when I need to leave-"

“You always need to leave. I’m just sick of it.”

Now, Satoru just feels himself getting angry, "is this ultimatum really necessary right now? You couldn't have waited three damn days-"

"I think you're optimistic in guessing you'll only be gone for three days," you chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest. He sees the hurt in your features, but he merely shrugs it off as he continues to put on his shoes. “I’m not kidding, Satoru,” you warn. “You leave. I leave.”

“Then leave!” He shouts, hating the way tears sting at his eyes, “do it! I dont need you! You think I do? I’m Gojo Satoru.”

He does. Good fucking god he does, Satoru needs you like he needs water, craves food and forces breath into his lungs, he needs you like he’s paid to and loves you more than himself.

But you can’t know that. Even if not knowing it will drive you away.

You just your lower lip out and shrug, “then leave. Gojo Satoru.”

In desperation, he searches your eyes for something, anything to call your bluff, anything to tell him you’re lying, you won’t leave him. But your eyes tell him nothing, your eyes are closed off and protecting yourself from his venom.

He balls his fists and takes a sharp sniff through his nose in an attempt to ground himself.

“Maybe I will.”

He opens the door before slamming it shut behind him, the vibrations rattling his bones and making him feel even weaker than he was before. He knows that you might slam the door in a not too dissimilar way in but a few hours, cupcakes abandoned and bags packed into your car, leaving your keys in the mailbox and leaving his life for good.

All he can do is hope otherwise.

But in all the lies he can tell himself, that’s one he’s having a hard time believing.

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x gn!reader #gojo satoru x reader angst #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru jjk #gojo #gojo angst #gojo x reader #gojo x reader angst #gojo x gn!reader #gojo imagine #gojo jjk #jjk #jjk angst #jjk imagine #jjk x reader #jjk x reader angst #jjk x gn!reader #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk x you #jjk x yn #jjk x y/n

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

the things you do for love ; satoru gojo

synopsis; satoru begs you to wear the frilly maid dress he bought. against your better judgement, you indulge him.

word count; 7.0k (this was supposed to be short but i miss him terribly)

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly sweet, literally just satoru being down horrendous, lots and lots of petnames (he is embarrassing), he’s ur biggest hypeman, entirely sfw!! (i feel like i have to specify that…), reader is a lil grumpy, satoru gojo is the most insufferable man on earth <3

a/n; this is just a silly lil wip i found in my drafts…. i dont remember what possessed me to write this i just think satoru would cry and fall to his knees and throw up blood if he saw u in a frilly dress

”— no.”

the word rolls off your tongue, instantaneous, with a decisive kind of sterness. leaving no room for hesitation, doubt or indecision; not a single gap for his argument to fit through, no loophole he could take advantage of to persuade you into giving in.

but despite all that, satoru just won’t back down.

”come on, baby, please?” he pleads, voice coaxing and sugary sweet. you can almost see those puppy dog eyes of his from behind the black glass of his shades. ”i already bought it and everything!”

”i don’t care,” you spit. a halfhearted attempt at appearing annoyed, in hopes it’ll distract him from the strawberry flush of your cheeks. ”i’m not wearing it. you shouldn’t have bought it, in the first place.”

”but sweetheart,” he drawls, tinged with a sadness he knows tugs at your heartstrings. ”it’s so cute. you’ll look so adorable.”

”not happening.”

”but —”

”— no. i’m seriously not wearing it, satoru.”

and it’s harsh, the flow of your words, sharp and firm; but that’s your only option when he gets like this. your only slim chance at survival, being almost painfully direct. that doesn’t stop your resolve from weakening pitifully when satoru’s posture wilts, though, obviously exaggerated but still somehow effective. you debase yourself for being so weak for him. 

but giving in just isn’t an option, this time. 

under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t take too long for him to persuade you. satoru can be annoying, extremely so — but when he’s being so stubborn about something, there’s usually a good reason for it, even if it’s just that whatever he wants you to do will make him happy. to you, it’ll do.

(his happiness is your priority, after all.)

but in this case, there’s just no way. absolutely no way in hell.

he’s still holding that thing up, like he genuinely thinks it’ll support his argument, swaying it lightly side to side. it really, really doesn’t. it does the complete opposite, in fact.

”but angel,” he tries, again. you wonder if he’s eventually going to run out of petnames, or if he’ll just keep cycling through them until he runs out of air to breathe. ”don’t you wanna see how it’ll look on you?”

a sharp scoff flows from your lips. 

he can’t be serious. 

you really, really, really don’t. if anything, you want everything in the world except for that. you’d rather smash a glass bottle into little pieces and eat them one by one. you’d rather sit on satoru’s lap in a room full of other people. you’d rather jump in front of a moving train with explosives tied to your back.

— it’s so frilly. 

you almost couldn’t believe it, yourself. when he barged into the room, cardboard box in hand, fresh from the mail; all while wearing an excited grin, foreboding, but you were too mesmerized by it to even notice. 

it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, so you didn’t think much of it. satoru buying you gifts is not in any way unusual, even and especially if you tell him not to — and usually, it’d be a sweet occasion. the kind of moment you can soak in, drink up, and then recall fondly for the rest of the week. 

every single detail is worth cherishing. how excitedly he always opens it up, eager for your reaction, and how you always thank him, no matter what it is. sincerely, because satoru can be awkward with his affection, but his love bleeds through in moments like these.

from expensive, well-kept bouquets to little flowers on the side of the road; from thought-out gifts to little trinkets; no matter what it is, the sentiment remains the same.

(this made me think of you. i want you to have it. 

i remembered you mentioning this brand. i love you.)

a way for satoru to show his love, without overwhelming himself or you. a way of easing him into it, when everything is still just so new to him. 

buying you whatever catches his eye is the perfect solution, according to satoru. and it exasperates you, sometimes, when you come home to five amazon packages right outside your doorstep — but deep down you know it’s more for him than you. because it makes him happy, to be able to, allowed to show his love for you in ways like this. in normal ways, easy ways, that say more than his words ever could. 

(being granted the luxury of making you happy. of loving you, even if satoru doesn’t think he’s very good at that, just yet. but he is good at impulse buying things he knows you’d like; so that’ll have to do, for now.)

which is why you couldn’t help but let his infectious joy seep into your bloodstream, trickling its way through your veins with a sweet kind of fervour. couldn’t help but smile, a tender curl of your lips, in tandem with his cute little grin. couldn’t help but grow a little bit excited, as he opened the package — 

to reveal a cutesy, frilly, maid outfit.

— and then your mind screeched to a halt. 

the look on your face must have been something special, horrified and flustered in equal measure. almost in disbelief, as he immediately began to gush about the outfit in his hands. look at the bows, isn’t it cute? god, you’re going to look so pretty. i mean, you always do, obviously, but —

you weren’t really listening. all your mind could do was spin in circles, trying to get some read on the situation, but it was just no good. he genuinely, thoroughly, truly and sincerely expected you to put on a goddamn maid outfit. 

if he had bought it for himself, then maybe you would've been at least a little bit excited. you’re sure he'd look good in it; with those big blue eyes of his, that cute, happy grin. so good that your heart would probably combust, a little. melt through the floorboards. 

but no — he wanted you to wear it. 

and despite your instant, firm protests, he just will not give it up. your boyfriend is a stubborn man, so it’s no surprise, but it’s still enough to irk you.

”satoru, for real. no! i’m not wearing it!”

”but you’d look so good,” he whines, loud and grating as he inches closer to you. still holding the dress up like a prize; you back away, instinctively, like it’ll burn if you touch it.

”i don’t care! it’s a maid outfit! why the hell would i ever wear it?” 

sunglasses seated at the bridge of his nose, satoru allows you to catch a glimmer of his eyes — an effective method of persuasion. he definitely knows their power, and he’s definitely flaunting them for the sole purpose of making you falter. that manipulative scumbag.

the fact that it actually works makes you even angrier, though.

a sharp turn of your head, and your gaze falls on the windowpane, lingering there as you grumble under your breath. he’s so annoying. you’re growing more and more flustered by the minute, too. 

”— because you love me?” 

satoru tilts his head, white locks of hair following the movement. soft and silky, nice to run your fingers through, but you chase the thought away as soon as it enters your subconscious. he looks almost hypnotizing under the sunlight, with the golden rays illuminating his features, smoothing over the contours of his face — as if the sun was made solely to shine on his skin.

and ah, you think, there we go. satoru’s classic tactic; using your love for him as a bargaining chip, pouting down at you like a kicked puppy. you like to picture his eyes all watery and glassy, everytime he tries it, as if he’s some rejected cartoon-mascot. so silly. 

valiantly, you fight off the temptation to smile, gracing him with another little scoff instead. shooting him an unimpressed look, a tiny raise of your eyebrow. ”that won’t work on me.”

”aww, come on,” he almost coos, inching closer still. ”don’t you love me? my sweetiepie? my cute lil’ mochi?” 

(he’s getting bolder with the petnames, you note. as if that’d change anything. they’re so cheesy it makes you recoil.)

”obviously.” you deadpan, trying your best not to let affection seep into the words. but you see satoru’s lips curl up, anyway. ”i’m still not wearing it, though. sorry.”

satoru sighs. heavy, exasperated — dare you say defeated? for a second, you delude yourself into thinking he might actually give in, for once, spare you both the trouble — 

until he falls to the floor, knees hitting the soft flooring with a loud thud. awfully dramatic. he clasps his hands together as if to beg and plead, a starved dog at your feet, and gazes up at you with newfound determination.

”please, baby — i’m begging you,” he groans, voice sad and pained, agonized, like you just threatened to break up with him. silly, silly man.

”don’t grovel.” a sigh drops from your lips as the pads of your fingers go to massage your temples. soothing what you’re almost sure is an incoming headache.

and he makes a certain noise, almost a whimper, like you just kicked him in the gut. you glance down at him as if to signal really? with your eyes, lips parting to speak — 

but your breath only hitches in your throat, and no sound comes out.

satoru’s eyes are almost teary. peeking out from behind his shades, big and glassy, eyelashes dewy with what you know are just crocodile tears. he’s far too skilled at it for his own good, though — maybe you should be supporting his acting career, instead of the weird teacher-slash-sorcerer thing he’s got going on.

and you’re weak, you realize, terribly so. because something deep within your chest constricts, at those sad eyes, heart squeezed painfully, and when you speak you note that your voice sounds a lot softer. 

”satoru,” you sigh, again; more resigned this time, a little fatigued. missing the way his eyes glint at the sound, as if sensing an opportunity. ”really. i’m sorry i wasted your money, but it’s just… not happening. okay?” 

attempting to sound delicate, your voice settles on a soothing tilt, like an adult speaking to a tantrum-throwing child. hoping it’ll be enough to make him falter even slightly. 

it isn’t, of course; if anything, his determination only grows. 

”even just for a short while?” he tries, voice sweet and pliant. all daisies and sunbeams, tailormade to tug at your heartstrings. ”just an hour or so! then i’ll be satisfied.”

”an hour? no way!” you scoff.

and this time, you don’t miss it. from behind those shades, a certain glimmer of something flickers through his irises — something keen and observant. a certain dread crawls its way down your spine.

”so it’s fine if it’s less?” he grins, changing tactics, smooth and decisive. ”half an hour. that’s as low as i’ll go.”

”oh my god.” an exhale, drawn out and exhausted, from the very depths of your chest. ”satoru. toru. no. i’m not wearing it at all. this isn’t an auction.”

”but it could be,” he purrs, still on his knees. it makes him look a little bit disturbed. ”c’mon. why are you getting so shy? guess what — i’ll even settle for twenty minutes. just for you.”

oh, he’s just awful. you want so badly to be mad at him, and that teasing, smug, shit-eating little smirk of his — but you can’t. 

not when he looks so effortlessly pretty, bathed in the light of the sun, surrounded by a mellow glow so tender it makes him look something like an angel. not when he’s acting so characteristically himself, so stubborn and infuriating and entirely impossible not to love. 

another sigh. you’re a little surprised you have enough air left in your lungs to breathe it out, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re beginning to grow just a bit tired of the back and forth. ”i’m not shy,” you huff. ”i just don’t want to. it won’t look good on me, anyway.”

satoru blinks. genuine surprise shines in his eyes, for a second, like you caught him off guard. ”huh? of course it will. why wouldn’t it?”

a pause. gnawing at your bottom lip, you avert your gaze, trying to find the words. ”it’s just… tacky,” you settle on. ”it’ll look weird.”

”it won’t! you’ll look so cute!”

another huff, as your dispassionate, bored gaze meets his. ”and how do you know that?”

satoru's answer is instantaneous. ”you always look cute. just wanna see how you look in this,” he chirps, brandishing the outfit with barely contained excitement. thoroughly giddy. ”when i saw it, i knew it’d look adorable on you. and i’m never wrong!”

a soft pout plays at your lips, in the wake of his eager sincerity. barely noticeable, just a little embarrassed, but it’s there. and satoru’s seen it, finally — the road to victory. he knows he can win this, if he’s smart about it.

”i just wanna see you in it. just for a second. please? pretty please?” he tilts his head, tantalizing, showing off the blue of his eyes and the curl of his lips. ”then i’ll never ask you for anything again. promise!”

”okay, that’s a lie and we both know it.”

the grin that blooms on your lips is a mistake, you quickly realize, because satoru interprets any sign of joy on your face as positive approval. his determination grows.

”yeah, yeah… but i mean it! i won’t bother you if you just wear it once. just once!” he puts a single finger up, to emphasize the point. ”just wanna see my precious baby all frilly and cute. won’t you indulge me, oh my dearest?”

he’s grinning, now, all soft and teasing. it’s more breathtaking than he’ll ever understand. he’ll never even come close to understanding how gorgeous he is, like this — when there’s no one around to perform for, when he can just be himself. when it’s just you, and satoru, and the feeling of having all the time in the world.

(even if you don’t.)

and you know your face must be flushed, a soft cherry red, as your gaze falls to the floor. the heat on your cheeks and neck, the pitter patter of your heartbeat; you feel it all. 

and it’s embarrassing, to find yourself so fervently twisted around someone’s finger — to find that you don’t even really mind. being wrapped around satoru’s finger isn’t so awful, all things considered. it’s a scary thought, for sure, but he’d never abuse the privilege. probably.

— a sigh. 

you still don’t want to wear it. you really don’t. it’s just awful. tacky, and embarrassing, and overall unpleasant. 

… but if it’ll get him to stop nagging you like this… 

and if it’s just for a short while…

silence, only silence, spilling into the sunkissed air. outside your apartment, the sky melts into a buttery orange hue. an intense contemplation is etched into your eyes, and satoru takes note of it; opting to put the final nail in the coffin. his very last bid.

”fifteen minutes. then you’re —”

”ten minutes,” you cut him off. sounding just a tad exhausted — resigned to your fate. 

and satoru doesn’t even bother trying to hide his excitement. suddenly beaming, he shoots up to his feet, and it causes you to jolt. ”perfect,” he grins, holding the dress out toward you. a little too eager for your liking.

”— but seriously. i’m only wearing it once. never again,” you tilt your head. ”got it?” satoru just nods, happily, so excited he’s practically jumping up and down — and despite everything, you still can’t find it in you to be angry. 

he looks so earnestly giddy.

eyes brimming with suspicion and weariness, your hands reach out to take it into your arms; the puffy dress, the frilly headwear, and the black thigh highs. you’re surprised he didn’t invest in a pair of shoes, while he was at it. just to complete the set.

(you decide not to comment on it, knowing he’d have some poor, overworked shoemaker on the phone within seconds.)

”need my help putting it on?” he purrs, face suddenly very close to yours — and the sudden stutter of your heartbeat sparks a hitch of your throat. desperate to cover it up, you shoot him a hefty glare.

”oh, shut up,” you hiss, but satoru only grins wider. soft little giggles flowing from his lips, like a schoolgirl teasing her upperclassman. silly.

a heavy hesitance rests on your features, as you give the outfit another chance. judgemental eyes trailing over the bows and frills, giving it a thorough look, until your lips curl down into a soft frown. it’s not that bad, but…

”it’s kinda ugly,” you lie, decisively.

”really? i think it’s cute, though.” 

”yeah, ’cause you have no taste.” a click of your tongue. ”what’s so great about maid outfits, anyway? i don’t see the appeal.”

satoru smiles. carefree, amused — still very much teasing. ”well, we’re about to find out,” he chirps.

you give him a look, eventually giving way to a soft exhale. ”fine — but only ten minutes. at most.” a pause, as you stop to think. what else? ”oh, and no taking pictures.”

”— i’m taking pictures.”

…

the exasperated look you send his way doesn’t seem to phase satoru even in the slightest. he continues to smile at you, unbothered, soft around the edges, and you know you’re not winning this one either.

”… fine,” you sigh. ”but — not too many, okay? and you aren’t allowed to show anyone, either.”

”of course not,” he scoffs, almost offended. ”as if i’d let anyone else see you like that.”

stuck between feeling relieved and put off, you settle on simply letting it go. and satoru continues to speak, reassuringly, glossy lips shining in the sunlight as they part.

”rest assured, baby,” he hums, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. ”this stays between us. i swear on my honour.”

you snort. ”like you’ve got any of that.”

”mean. anyway — c’mon. i can’t wait any longer.” before you can think to protest, he’s ushering you away in the direction of the bathroom, big hands heavy on your shoulders as they push you. still hesitant, you make no move to resist.

(what have you gotten yourself into?)

with one final sigh, your fingers curl around the doorknob, outfit hanging off your arm. not before sending one final glance back at satoru, reinstating your conditions. ”just this once. then you’re selling it. or burning it.”

”yes, yes — you have my word,” he promises. before you can narrow your eyes, he pushes you forward, gently; bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. ”go on, i’m waiting!”

”yeah, yeah…”

the door closes behind you with a soft thud, and the reality of the situation begins to finally dawn on you. the maid outfit weighs heavy on your heart, but light in your arms — you gaze down at it with pure contempt. it’s not like you have a choice, though. satoru won’t let you wriggle away from this one. and maybe, just maybe, a part of you wants to indulge him, after all.

(his smile shone so brightly, in the light of the sun.)

and it’s almost cautious, the way you begin to dress yourself; first the thigh highs, black and silky, then the outfit itself. pulling it over your head, your arms sneaking through the openings. 

it’s a perfect fit. 

a second passes. you stop to think, brows furrowing in suspicion — did the little bastard measure you? just to make sure he got it exactly right? he has been rummaging through your closet more than usual, recently, but you didn’t think much of it. over the years, you’ve conditioned yourself not to question the things that he does. that sneaky, sneaky man.

after putting on the headwear, you finally lift your gaze, tentative and slow — to take a peek at your own reflection. the flush on your face stands out, a contrast to the black and white colour scheme of the outfit. 

and you can’t help but exhale, a little exasperated.

it’s so… frilly. there are frills on the sleeves, on the shoulderpads, on the skirt, on the hems… everywhere. little bows litter the surface of the smooth fabric, a big one attached to the collar, and several smaller ones across the sleeves. 

and as much as you loath to admit it — it is kind of cute. 

still, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re only embarrassing yourself. it’s hard not to think, when a maid outfit is staring into your soul through the mirror — and you just so happen to be wearing it.

(what the hell are you even doing?)

a low groan slips from your lips, and you crouch down, to bury your face in your knees. the flush of your cheeks is beginning to spread towards the tips of your ears, growing hotter by the minute. satoru’s about to see you like this, of all people. how on earth will he react?

(what if he thinks it looks weird, too?) 

”i’m still waiting!” a voice suddenly exclaims, sing-songy and sweet, and closer than you realized. has he just been standing there and waiting in silence, this whole time? of course he has.

”just —” you croak out, words a little strangled. ”just… give me a minute.”

satoru lets out a high-pitched whine, cheek pressed against the cold wood of the door. ”but i’ve been waiting so long already!” he complains, pouting, the urge to see you growing unbearable. impatience tugging at his heart, so excited he can barely pull himself together.

(all he can think of is you, you, you.)

curling up into a little ball, you attempt to swallow the bundle of nerves in the back of your throat — but that jittery, feather-light feeling of your heartbeat just won’t go away. it makes you feel a little paralyzed.

you're actually, genuinely, sincerely about to go show off a goddamn maid outfit. what the hell.

when you finally grasp control over your vocal cords and part your lips to speak, the voice that spills out into the air sounds more than a little meek. but you can’t quite bring yourself to care, overcome by a heart-tingling nervosity and the heat of your skin.

 ”… i don’t want to.”

satoru pauses. 

he can picture you, in his mind’s eye; the way you must look, right now. clad in frills and a cute little skirt, face flushed red and embarrassed, as you shift from foot to foot. and it takes concentrated effort, to bite back the coo that threatens to crawl up his throat — but he knows it’s still not too late for you to change your mind. if he wants to see you, he needs to be careful. so he tactfully opts not to tease you.

”come on, angel,” he soothes, instead. voice smooth like honey, like coffee with cream and too much sweetener. ”don’t be embarrassed.”

you stay silent, still attempting to suffocate the tinge of humiliation in the depths of your chest. so satoru continues. ”just come on out, hm? might as well get it over with. then you won’t have to think of it again.”

a moment passes.

”… do i have to?”

the corners of his lips curl up.

ah, you’re so cute. all embarrassed, almost childish, in the way you’re still trying to be difficult; and satoru just indulges you, all too eager to get you to show yourself to him. ”yes, you do,” he coos. ”be good f' me and come on out, okay?”

a couple moments pass. eerily silent, growing second by second. the only sound that fills the air is that of satoru’s soft breathing, the distant whirring of the ceiling fan.

until finally, he hears the squeak of the bathroom floor. you stand up, turning to glance at your reflection in the mirror one last time, before hesitantly reaching for the doorknob.

it’s slow, the way you open the door, agonizingly so — pushing at it slightly and dragging the movement out. and you can feel satoru’s presence, right behind it, as he takes a step back to give you space. when you finally step over the threshold, you adamantly refuse to meet his gaze.

(satoru’s breath hitches in his throat.)

there you stand, gaze stubbornly averted, expression flustered and mildly annoyed. cheeks dusted a dark cherry-red, that crawls towards the tips of your ears as you fidget with your frilly, oversized sleeves. they’re dressed in little bows, awfully cute, and so is the skirt — short, but not enough to expose the skin of your thighs above the thigh highs. you still squirm a little, thighs pressed together. 

and then, of course, the big bow on your collar to complete the look. pink in colour, a stark contrast to the whites and blacks of the remaining outfit.

after a moment passes with nothing but pure silence, your lips part to speak. doing anything you can to stop yourself from looking over at the man in front of you, afraid of what you’ll see. ”i don’t think it suits me,” is muttered, a tiny huff. ”… and i still don’t see the appeal, by the way.”

— but satoru doesn’t answer. 

he just stares. uncharacteristically silent, in a way you’re wholly unaccustomed to. enough so that you find yourself gnawing at your bottom lip, fidgeting with the hem of the skirt, hoping the smooth texture will soothe your nerves a little. the beating of your heart resounds in your ears, sending blood flowing through your veins with excited pumps.

the silence festers, and all you can do is let it grow, your nervosity thickening with it — until it’s just too much to bear. 

(ahh, you knew it. it really does look weird, doesn’t it? that’s to be expected. 

still, you can’t help but feel just slightly dejected.) 

”… why aren’t you saying anything?” 

the little mumble comes out sounding embarrassed, and maybe just a little defeated, too. but satoru doesn’t hear it. as your gaze falls on the man in question, slowly, you take in his expression with a frown on your face — and realize that he isn’t just keeping quiet. 

he’s completely stunned. 

no matter how hard you stare, you can’t seem to get a good read on his expression. he’s just standing there, face completely blank, eyes entirely obscured by the black of his shades. the light streaming in through the glass of the windows has shifted its course, falling away from the two of you — but you still see the vague, red tinge crawling up his neck. 

and as soon as you spot it, satoru begins his descent.

crouching down to the floor, silently, he brings his hands up to cover his face. feet against the ground with his knees folded, pressed against his chest, stilling as he inhales sharply. shades seated on top of his head, pushed up by his hands when he buried his face in them. a groan drops from his lips, muffled by the skin of his palms — but you can hear it clear as day.

”hold on, just… give me a minute…” he finally croaks out, words somehow tiny. almost shy. 

upon closer inspection, you realize your eyes weren’t deceiving you — there really is a red hue to his neck, one you aren’t used to seeing on him. strawberry-tinged dust, staining his smooth skin, the tips of his burning ears. satoru actually looks flustered, for once. and your heart can’t help but flutter.

— he thinks he might actually, genuinely die.

it’s a wonder, he thinks, that he managed not to fall to his knees the very moment he laid eyes on you. all dolled up; frilly and cute, in his own words, though they don’t come even close to properly describing how adorable you look right now. with your flushed face, shy eyes, and all those little frills and bows adorning your dress. rendering him speechless, clogging up his throat with pure unbridled love. a mouthful of honey, too sweet for even him to swallow.

god. god. he really, really needs to pull himself together.

crouched down like this, face hidden behind his hands, he can physically feel himself grow more and more flustered. senses invaded by the sound of his heartbeat, deep and visceral, until it’s all he can hear — he knew you were going to look cute, obviously, but he was seriously underestimating you. your cuteness is lethal. 

even just the sight makes him weak in the knees. even just the thought of you makes him feel a little like his heart is attempting to break out of his chest. hurling itself at his ribcage with ferocious resolve, like he could keel over and die of heart failure at any given moment. he’s pleasantly surprised that he’s managed to suppress the loud squeal his body keeps trying to let out, honestly.

and while satoru struggles with his deep, internal turmoil, all you can do is watch. looking down at him with wide eyes, as his skin flushes a bright pink, like little chrysanthemums blooming from his neck up to his ears. 

yeah, you think, there’s no doubt about it. satoru is flustered. it’s not a side of him you get to see very often, so you can’t help but be just slightly caught off guard. staring at him silently, until you snap out of it, eyes simmering with something soft and delighted.

he’s so cute.

(and maybe, just maybe — it makes you want to tease him, a little bit.)

so you crouch down, facing him with your knees against your chest, jaw resting on your crossed forearms as you gaze at him. he’s still not looking at you, face hidden behind his palms, shying away from your view.

and then you sigh. the sound catches his attention, soft — and just a little bit dejected.

”… you’re the one who wanted me to wear it,” your lips curl down into a pout, ”and now you won’t even look at me?”

satoru stiffens. 

(you sound sad. you sound disappointed.)

slowly, he parts his fingers, desperate to soothe you — blue eyes peeking out through the gaps, as if the sight of you could blind him. he then proceeds to move his hands, tentative, laboured, like he’s dragging heavy weights off his body. like it’s a struggle. 

with his face finally exposed, all flushed and pretty, bright azure eyes stare at you; brimming with pure adoration. 

satoru exhales, almost shaky. he has to take another moment to simply look at you, as if drinking in every inch of your expression. memorizing every corner of the face he’s grown to love so much.

a moment passes. then two.

then, he practically pounces on you — engulfing you like a tidal wave, trapping you in his big arms as they go to curl around your waist. shades falling off at the impact, hitting the floor with a soft thunk.

”you’re killing me,” he whines, loud and right by your ear. nuzzling into you, squeezing you like he’s a puppy with a chew toy. ”you’re so, so, so cute. d’you want me to have a heart attack?”

a hitch of your breath. that’s all you can manage, utterly failing to keep up with him as he presses you up against his chest. rocking you back and forth in his embrace, smearing open mouthed kisses across your skin; whining and murmuring about how adorable you look. 

a flurry of warmth, of love, of something a little too precious for words. something distinctly satoru, that makes you forget about everything else — as if the world stops spinning somewhere outside of his arms. as if that’s where you belong.

all you can do is indulge him. maybe you’re spoiling him a little too much, but it feels nice; letting him drown you in his overwhelming affection. the thought of creasing the dress doesn’t even seem to cross his mind, as he squeezes the life out of you.

evidently, satoru suffers from an acute case of cuteness aggression. 

”so adorable,” he murmurs, leaving wet kisses on your cheeks. his exaggerated mwahs make you feel just a tad shy. ”my little sweetheart. all dressed up for me.” 

squirming in his hold, he only brings you closer, smothering you in his warm embrace. the slightly erratic beating of his heart is all you can hear, with your cheek squished against his chest. arms keeping you nice and still, lips lingering over that one ticklish spot behind your ear. 

a little giggle slips from your lips, and satoru feels himself smile; wide and giddy, boyish and adoring. nuzzling into the comfort of your chest, soft fabric brushing against his skin, a low whine escapes his throat. ”can't take it. wanna put you in my pocket.”

”your pocket?” a grin blooms on your lips, words dripping with honeyed amusement. satoru grins right back.

”my pocket,” he hums, approvingly. ”you’re just so cute and small. gotta keep you close, so i don’t lose you.”

a huff, lighthearted. 

suddenly, the grip around your midriff tightens — and you’re hoisted up, stumbling a little as satoru lets go of you. still holding onto you by your wrists, softly, delicately, as if you’re made of glass. when you lift your head, all you can see is his satisfied little grin, and the twinkle of his eyes.

your heart flutters. 

satoru gazes at you, silently, still drinking you in. every second spent staring into the brightness of your eyes fills his heart up just a little more; colourful, heart-shaped candies, scooped up and poured into the hole in his chest. patching it right back up, so effortlessly sweet that it makes him want to pluck every star from the sky and offer them at your feet. 

”alright,” he breathes, taking a step back. breaking the delicate silence, a little dance between him and time. fingers still curled around your wrist. ”do a twirl for me.”

a humoured scoff. ”hell no.”

”aw, come on! you gotta pose for the photo, baby.”

before you know it, satoru’s got his phone out — and it’s aimed right at you. by the time you notice it, you’re fairly certain he’s already managed to snap a couple pictures. so all you can do is sigh, in faux exasperation.

”c’mon, c’mon,” he coos. ”give me a smile, pretty.”

a roll of your eyes, as you bite your lip to muffle a soft bout of laughter. it doesn’t really work. ”i’m good.”

satoru seems unaffected by your words, pulling back from your touch reluctantly; just so he can make a show out of playing the cameraman, switching between elaborate positions and taking pictures from angle after angle. somehow, you get the feeling he’s forgotten your request to keep the pictures to a minimum.

(he looks like he’s having fun, though. so you let it slide. just this once.)

”god. you’re way too cute for your own good, you know that?” he murmurs, leaning down to take another picture. and it flusters you, how smoothly the words slip from his lips, how it seems like he barely even has to think about them at all. 

it’s a little embarrassing, in a heart-fluttering kind of way. but you do your best to hide it.

”you’re a sap,” is all you say, soft smile playing at your lips. 

”and you’re adorable,” satoru grins. 

then he slips his phone into his back pocket, satisfied with the collection, and grabs your hand.

his fingers curl around yours, softly — and then he lifts it up. bringing it to his lips. they’re warm, as he kisses across your knuckles, the tips of your fingers. soft as a feather, tickling your skin. 

(as if he’s whispering psalms under his breath. as if he’s worshipping you.)

then he tilts his head, eyes gazing at you sweetly. sweeter than fresh mandarin slices, splotches of marmalade, his favorite caramel fudge. and his eyes crinkle, crow’s feet and dimples peeking out as he smiles, an easygoing kind of joy blooming on that pretty face of his — youthful, boyish. it suits him more than anything.

his voice comes out smooth, awfully coaxing. so very easy to give in to, paired with that breathtaking grin. 

”one tiny twirl?” he asks, politely.

he’s so annoying. 

(but you’re far too in love to say no.)

so with a single roll of your eyes, and a soft little scoff, you relent. indulging him once more, just one more time. just one little twirl.

satoru feels his heart squeeze painfully, deep within his chest, as he watches you spin around. skirt and frills ruffled by the movement. just once, a soft little twirl with your fingers intertwined. far too precious for his heart to take.

when you stop, just a tiny bit dizzy, he leans in, and the kiss he leaves on your forehead is soft. chaste, but it still pulls a blissful sigh from the back of your throat. satoru’s lips curl up against your skin, before he pulls back — eyes almost overflowing with affection.

”cutie.”

you blink. 

averting your gaze, flustering a little under the weight of his love-filled eyes, all you can do is emit a soft little huff. embarrassed, as it flows from your lips. but it only makes satoru’s smile grow further.

”okay, okay. you’ve had your fun.” you clear your throat. ”time’s up.”

suddenly, satoru’s eyes fill with something akin to dread — nose crinkling, just barely, a sign of his displeasure. ”noooo,” he whines, draping his arms around you. tugging you close. ”just a little more? please? pretty please?”

”nope! we said ten minutes. no take backs.”

”can’t i have an extension? since i’m your favorite?” satoru pouts, puppy dog eyes in full force. only this time, they don’t work as well as he’d hoped.

”nope,” you repeat, popping the p. ”sorry.” another whine buzzes right by your ear, and you smile. 

”and then we’re burning it.”

”noooo!” 

”sorry, but it’s gotta go.” you bite back a soft grin. satoru sounds agonized, voice dripping with grief, and it makes your heart dance with barely contained laughter.

”but then you can’t wear it anymore, baby…”

”that’s kinda the point, toru.”

”but you’re so cute in it,” he pouts, bringing you closer still. squeezing at your waist and rubbing his cheek against the top of your head. ”it’d be such a waste if you never wore it again, don’tcha think?”

he’s trying his best, you can tell — attempting to make you falter, coax you into wearing it just a little longer. but for today, you’re done indulging him.

”well, too bad.” nuzzling into his neck, your tone settles on a firm tilt; decisive, as you nip at his skin. just a little teasing. ”i said i’d never wear it again, and i meant it.”

a moment passes. maybe it’s the warmth of your lips on his skin, or maybe he can tell you aren’t budging — whatever the case, satoru finally seems to relent. an exhale tumbles from his tongue, deep and drawn out. ”fineee,” he drawls. ”i’ll just buy you a new one.”

”i won’t wear it. i’ll just get angry.”

”at lil’ old me? really?”

”really really,” you click your tongue. ”if you love maid outfits so much, why don’t you wear one yourself?” a beat. ”it’d look good on you.”

satoru perks up, suddenly. pulling away so his eyes can meet yours, bright and teasing, glazed over with something excited. ”oh?” he purrs. ”you wanna see me in one, huh? so bold, baby.”

a scoff slips from your lips, sharp but tinged with laughter. ”well, it’s only fair, right?” grinning up at him, your hand reaches out to smooth away his bangs. fingertips trailing across the expanse of skin, touch so very tender that his eyes flutter shut. ”i think you’d pull it off better than i ever could, anyway.”

a hum buzzes in his throat, seconds ticking by slowly; a dance with him and time. an attempt to prolong the softness of the moment.

”hmm… well, i’ll consider it.” just barely holding back a smile, he leans into your touch. ”you gotta wear it with me, though. we can buy a matching set!”

”that makes no sense,” you huff, with a raise of your brow. ”i’ve already worn it once, so next time, it’s gotta be all you.”

”sorry, baby, but you need to do it too.” he cradles you close, smoothing a palm down your spine, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. chest rumbling with the smooth timbre of his voice, words rich with teasing fondness. ”i’m too shy to do it by myself.”

and you really, really wish you could be angry with him — but it’s just impossible. 

satoru is just way too lovable, smile far too sunny and warm for you not to melt under. and his caress says more than words ever could, light and doting, careful and loving; like how a believer cups a handful of holy water. as if you could slip from his grasp at any moment, so he has to keep you extra close.

in the end, all protests and complaints die on your tongue. you only laugh, soft and breathy, filling the air with a fondness so palpable you can almost taste it. bordering on something close to a scoff, but never quite getting there. 

eventually, satoru does — begrudgingly — let you change out of the outfit. whining a little, sulking a tad, before brightening right back up again. like clockwork, the sun peeking out after a rain shower, the calm after the storm. always that same happy smile, wrapping you around his little finger.

satoru, in all his glory; your very own pocket of sunshine. annoying, stubborn, thoughtful — 

and yours, wholly and thoroughly.

(while you’re busy gazing at him adoringly, satoru grumbles under his breath. contemplation painted on his features, as his mind spins in circles. frills, bows, lace…

what kind of design would make him look the prettiest for you?)

#satoru ”my girl look so good today im abt to scream and moan and throw up” gojo #he is so husband coded to me. so unbelievably babygirl #he would absolutely wear a maid dress if u asked him to btw. and he would rock that shit so hard. #just……. gojo in a dress………….. breathe if u agree #im a firm believer in flustered satoru also….. #it wouldnt happen often but if u act cute enough i just think smth in his brain stops working #and he grins rly wide and tries to cover his face w his hands so you wont see how much hes blushing. if u tease him more he squeaks #who said that. #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk #gojo fluff #jjk fluff

[tremendum]

i've got headaches and bad luck but they couldn't touch you

[not my gif. title from song Of All the Gin Joints in All the World] pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her, use of the word girl)    

rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)      

word count: 4.6k  requested: Could you write something (literally anything really) like mean Joel x feisty Reader but based on the ancient Fall Out Boys song "Of All the Gin Joints in All the World" pretty please? 🥺🥹 I was just listening and I thought the lyrics were perfect for your writing ❤️But as always no pressure and no problem at all if you don't like the idea or anything else. Lots of love! P.S. smut is very welcome btw hihihi summary: “Joel's not one for feelings anymore, but you seem to pull them out of him like it's your goddamn job." warnings: established previous hookups, use of girl/babygirl, established age gap (unspecified but addressed openly), brief mention of oral m!receiving, brief mention of reader and joel’s canon-typical scars. choking, mean!Joel & brat tamer!Joel, brat!reader lol, dirty talk (its joel), degradation, use of the word slut, slight dumbification, spitting, rough sex, unprotected PiV, cum eating, nipple play, slapping (tits, ass). think that's it!

notes: okay finally another mean!Joel for the soul!!! this is super unedited also. tysm for the request, obv inspired by the song Of All The Gin Joints in All the World by FOB. :) this was fun and i hope yall love it! dont b afraid to request anything yall wanna read at all and as always pls comment or reblog :) love u xoxo  

[other Joel fics: mr. miller series fever landmines  ]

★  

Joel Miller isn't sure exactly when all this bullshit started. 

one day, he was introduced to you fleetingly in the cafeteria while you and Maria had an intense conversation - he’s not sure if you spoke for more than ten seconds; but months later and Joel happens to know exactly what your sweaty skin tastes like on the sharpness of his tongue and could probably list his favorite pairs of underwear you own. 

it's nothing, really. 

you patrol together often, and Joel guesses that out of all the insufferable people he's had to deal with, you're definitely not the worst. perhaps your handiness with a trigger - not nearly as inept as his own but definitely a close second - helps; or maybe it's the way your mouth feels wrapped around his cock. 

and he's not stupid; he knows exactly what Tommy was doing when he signed Joel with you for patrol - the same shit he'd been pulling since they were thirty years younger and Joel was fresh out of the relationship with Sarah's mom. but it's different now, because life is not the same - nothing is the same. 

Joel's not one for feelings anymore, but you seem to pull them out of him like it's your goddamn job. 

you are one talkative motherfucker; usually, that'd drive Joel up a wall, but after repeated and incessant exposure to Ellie for such an extended period, his patience has surprisingly grown.

and unlike others, you never acted nervous or scared by him. irritated, maybe, but it's not like he cares much if you get irritated by his attitude; you're worse than he can be.

at first, he thought you were just fucking him because you just didn't know who he really was yet. but months into whatever this shit is, and you're still - for whatever fucking reason - hanging around him, even after everything. he likes it, though, that you fight fire with fire.

and maybe that's why Tommy stuck you two together, because in some ways it was inevitable - maybe it was a good thing, Joel thinks. 

but this morning, as Joel's mind slams against his body, jolting him awake, his aching head makes him double-guess that.

it's weird how different it all is now - before you, Joel was tortured through nights plagued with sweats and memories. blood, pain, loss. he used to dream restlessly of life and all of its unforgiving horrors; but now, to his shock, he finds himself plagued with dreams of you. 

he gasps awake - he's not sure he'll ever stop that. 

but this time, you're next to him in the bed. his skin feels warm as the light filters through the blinds that stay constantly pulled down this time of year to retain the cool air and Joel lets out a shuttered sigh, his head aching.

it's only the second time you've stayed the night. he's never stayed at yours, god forbid - but a small part of him aches this morning when you slide out of his heavy, sleep-addled muscles. in the absence of your heat there is still bliss for a moment, until he's roused fully by your voice. 

"these sheets are dirty." the sound carries into his ears, melodic and fiery. he cracks one eye open, hand raising to rub over his face - a deep, tired sigh. 

"g'mornin' to you too." he snarks, sighing as he pulls himself on aching muscles to blink his eyes open; you stand over the bed, on the side that usually remains cold an empty while Joel thrashes in fits of restless sleep. there's not a single scrap of clothing on your body.  

he feels himself stir at the sight of you, naked, neck painted in a splattering of beautiful marks that'd been pulled forth in moments of ecstasy the night before.

you send him a half smirk, shrugging as you tug on a shirt - his, fuck, his stomach swirls at the sight of you wrapped in him. something primal crawls in his chest as you smile at him, legs almost glowing in their bareness as they knock against the side of the mattress. your fingers brush the fabric to the left of his head. 

"there's stains on the pillows." you shake your head, your face alluring in its tease. he feels himself roll his eyes as he grunts, "you're actin' like it ain't your makeup stainin' it?" 

he stares at the marks on the pillowcase; black, from that shit you sometimes put on your eyes which just makes them all the more beautiful, wide, and alluring. the makeup that's surely expired after all this time but still is something you like to do to, as you'd mentioned once, 'reclaim your humanity.' whatever.

Joel would never admit it to you, but he hadn't even really tried to wash out those stains; something about them gives him a warmth in his chest every morning that he wakes up in this cold bed. 

but when his eyes fall back to you in your silence, you smirk and it hits him: you're fucking teasing him.

he glares at you as your lips curl in a huff of a laugh, shaking your head. "if you keep complainin' about every damn thing, might as well just fuck you on the floor." he mutters, mostly to himself-  but also to see the way your thighs shift, eyes widening slightly as color washes your cheeks. you're squirming at his words, just like that - oh, he's got you pinned.

you'd like that, you dirty little thing.

but you regain your composure quicker than lightning, ready to snap back; yet another tally to add on the list of things he admires about you.

"you're such a gentleman, Miller." you snide, fanning yourself sardonically with one hand as you roll your eyes, searching for your underwear. 

he remembers the first time you'd said that to him -

"why so shy?" you'd purred. the memory of your voice curls around his ears as he huffs, watching you bend over and give him a complete view of your ass as you fetch your panties from the floor.  "c'mon, Joel, you don't need to be such a gentleman. 's nothing you haven't seen before." you'd stripped yourself of your shirt, your pert nipples pebbling in the cold breeze as he'd sat, cleaning his rifle. "the hell's the matter with you?" he'd grumbled; but it didn't stop either of you. you'd been pressed between him and the splitting backseat of the broken down crashed car within seconds, anyways. 

his eyes meet yours as you stand again. 

he snarks, "well you’re givin' me a headache, an' I've only been up for two minutes." he glares at you, swinging to pull his boxers over his hips, standing up to find his shirt. he pointedly ignores the glare you send him at his grumpiness. 

"you're the one acting dumb," you mutter, "acting like I'm the one who gives you headaches." you retort, a teasing glint in your eye; he knows that look. Joel knows you'd never get a headache from him - as much as he pisses you off, he knows you're too fiery, too lucky to get caught up in whatever miserable puddle he's drowning in. 

because Joel's bad luck curls around his fists wherever he goes; the talons reaching out, crawling through every hallway and seeping through every door. you, on the other hand, are like a goddamn firecracker. Joel hates the idea, but you're... somehow gifted in that way.

he's convinced his bad luck couldn't touch you if it tried. 

no matter the dumb shit you pull - forgetting a flashlight, not flipping off your safety that one moment when the clicker had stumbled out of the brush; all of that, and you escape unscathed, nothing but a giggle and a half-shrug from you before you move on to the next stupid thing. 

if you weren't such a goddamn brat, it'd be charming. 

his eyes snap to yours as your words fall from your lips; a burning in his chest at your tone. he watches your legs carry you into his bathroom, and he can't help it when his follow yours.

you haven't even flipped on the lights before he shuts the door behind him - you're already wearing that snarky fucking smile on your face, and he's straining already against his boxers.

he stares down at you, crowding you slowly into the wall. "what the fuck did you just say to me?" he hisses, mouth close to yours. as you turn your chin up towards his face, he can tell that you try your hardest to control your smirk, playing into the tense energy that's emanating from his chest. 

"I said you're acting dumb."

you repeat, tilting your head slightly as you drink in the darkness in his eyes. lord, you'd let that darkness swallow you in a fucking heartbeat. 

speaking of; your own heartbeat thunders in your chest, anticipating. you know what's coming, you can nearly taste it on your tongue. 

"oh, 's that right?" Joel asks, tilting his head to stare down at you. you swallow as you stare back into those deep irises, the small bit of golden light that shines through the small bathroom window illuminating in an ominously heavenly ray.

his hand settles on the crook of your shoulder and neck, sliding gently upwards as you nod your head defiantly, pushing as far as you can to see when he'll snap. his eyes glisten in temptation; daring you to act up more. 

raising your brows, you try to play like it's obvious, "waking up and complaining about your headaches, old man?" you tut gently, shaking your head innocently. "I don't think it's my fault that you fucked me twice, immediately passed out and now your head hurts when you've woken up the next morning. you know better than to push yourself in your old age, Joel. that's stupid." you add coyly, knowing it'll push him over the edge - he loves it when you act like a brat, no matter how much he denies it. 

his response is immediate and exactly what you'd hoped for. 

he's on you in a split second - hand sliding from your shoulder to grip your throat, pushing you back onto the wall of the bathroom. the towel bar digs into your middle-back slightly and you gasp in arousal at the force of his body on yours. you can feel his cock, hard and straining in his boxers, as it presses into your lower stomach. 

"y'wanna play like that, baby?" he growls, "why you fuckin' around with an old man like me, then?" he asks.

your face heats up, arousal flooding your core, your cunt slowly wetting itself at the purr of his voice - the meaner the words, the larger the flame. 

"hm?" he gently pushes, raising his brows as his hand squeezes gently on your throat, nudging you against the wall further; your gasp is slightly rasped under the pressure, your whole body screaming with desire. this is what you love - mean, angry, hungry Joel Miller. "'s it because nobody fucks you like I do, is that it?"

his knee slides between yours, wedging himself high up, rubbing suddenly against your aching pussy, the material of your cotton already soaked with a damp spot that rubs against his thick thigh. 

"Joel, fuck-" you groan, already willing to just do what you can to get him to touch you. his hand on your throat tightens at your word, thigh rutting up to slide against your needy clit, your hips bucking at the feeling. "-'s because nobody else is so easy." your fiery mouth betrays your body; the snarky comment snaps his eyes to yours, a dark breath leaving his lips. 

"that's ironic," he snaps, "comin' from someone who begged me to fuck them for hours." 

your face burns at the memory of the first time you and Joel'd hooked up; your desperate voice hoarse from pleading him to fuck you - out in the middle of the woods, a sleeping bag that, by the end, had rips on it from rocks and twigs and the force of his thrusts; the shyness gone from either of you as your touches made up for all the silence between you.

he hums lowly, watching you as you swallow at the memory, his thigh rutting up again and pulling a yelp of pleasure from your lips. "y'don't feel so high 'n mighty when I fuck you stupid, right baby?" he asks, voice dripping with condescendence as he nods gently, encouraging you to answer him. your core throbs at his words, your mouth going dry. 

his hand leaves your throat; you swallow a gulp of air, staring with wide eyes as he grasps your jaw roughly. "answer me." 

"n-no, I don't." you mutter, voice sounding small; the arousal that pulses through your veins begs your mouth to be smart, do what Joel says so he'll give in to what you want. 

he smirks, hands roughly grabbing the thick of your hips and flipping you around to press you against the counter, your hips bending as he shoves himself just behind you. your eyes meet yourself and his own hawkish gaze in the mirror in front of you; your heated breath fogs up the mirror in the faint morning light. 

his fingers thread through your hair, tugging you back again as he tilts your head back. his upside down face, smirking down at you, has your thighs clenching - "open." he orders, voice stern. 

your tongue sticks out and he wastes no time spitting roughly onto your tongue, moving your head back to stare into the mirror; his eyes meet yours as his spit slides over your tongue and his furrowed brows twitch with a slight smirk. "look at you, doin' what I tell you. now swallow it and say thank you." 

your core flutters at his words deliciously as you do as you're told; swallowing, you take a breath and mutter, "thank you," - though it's more breathless than you expected, Joel seems to approve. he hums, "there are those manners," he mutters into your ear, cock pressing against the swell of your ass. "almost seemed like you'd forgotten you had them." 

"didn't forget." you mutter, face heating up as your pussy aches, fluttering around nothing and desiring for his fingers, his cock - anything. 

one rough palm slides his shirt up your torso, exposing your bare tits to both of you through the mirror. with his face stooped down near your neck, a short inhale of your hair before his hand reaches it's destination - your throat. 

"then why're you actin' up?" he rasps, teeth grazing your shoulder. he squeezes his hand again and your eyes roll back in pleasure, arousal soon slicking your thighs as you think you may die from all the teasing. "you don't wanna cum?" 

your eyes widen, breath halting as you shake your head, "wh- no- no!" you hiss, "I do want to cum, please." 

his other hand raises, slapping your breast harsh and quick; your gasp of shock tapers off into a whine of pleasure, your nipples hard in arousal as his palm comes to soothe over the sting. 

"then why're you acting like this?" he asks again, shaking his head. another slap, this time to your other breast. his eyes follow the skin of your chest; the way you gasp, your whines at the slight stinging and the pleasure that follows. fingers pinch your nipples, teasing in circles before another sharp slap echoes through the room. "just a little brat, y'can't help yourself." he decides, biting on your neck lightly. 

you can feel him rut against you hard, grinding his hips as he lets out a short groan. you let out a low moan, whining slightly when he smacks your tits again, skin glowing with the impact. his eyes meet yours in the mirror. "quit the whinin'," he grunts, rutting his hard cock against your ass, "you'll be stuffed full of me soon enough." he grunts, "then we'll see who's dumb." 

your shaky moan sounds more like a groan, elbows falling to steady yourself as Joel releases your throat, tossing you forward to grab your hips instead. he pulls you back, grinding into you as his head tilts back in how own small groan of pleasure. "this ass." Joel grunts to himself as he palms the curve of your ass in both large hands, one falling to smack harsh onto the left. 

you're dripping down the inside of your thighs as he ruts against you twice more; thick fingers soon slide to thumb at the slick wet of your panties. his fingers tease the wet material that's glued to your pussy with need, tracing over your lips lightly over the fabric. "pretty pussy, just for me." he mutters; you nod, looking up at him through the mirror, "all for you, Joel." you affirm, voice shaking with anticipation. 

"you gonna be good when I fill you up, baby?" he lifts his brow, stern look as he palms himself. fuck, he's so sexy behind you like this, his thumb slowly dragging the material of your panties to the side and exposing your weeping cunt; you nod, "yes, I'll do anything-" 

you're cut off by a sharp gasp as the stretch of his cock's head cuts off your brain. he eases in gently at first which you're more than grateful for - no matter how many times Joel fucks you, his size is always something you have to adjust to; especially after your rounds last night left you barely able to walk straight. 

he lets out a breath, "there y'go, baby, take me." he says it surprisingly gently, easing in inch by inch as you breathe deeply, your soaked pussy easing his cock through your channels. his cock is heavy and aching as he slides into you, sheathing you fully within another few seconds - Joel's hands grip so hard on your ass, splaying you open for him, that you think his fingers will remain there for days. 

he's still only for a moment, letting you accommodate to his size before he's leaning forward to press his chest to your back, "gonna fuck you stupid, baby." 

"please, Joel," you groan, cunt fluttering, begging him to move. "do it." 

it's all that he needs before he's setting a pace that has you whining under him, your breath choking as you brace yourself agains the counter of the sink. 

it's bliss. his hips are sharp, the reach of his cock pressing against the spongy spot inside you, dragging against your pulsing walls. "fuck, so deep-" you hiss, eyes closing in pleasure as he presses himself against you, hips surely going to bruise against the thrusts that shove you into the countertop. 

one hand sneaks over your front, grasping at your tits as his cock reaches up into you deeply. he lets out a grunt, "fuckin'- christ, you're s-so tight," he grunts, "even after fuckin' you all night." 

you moan, the quick bout of his praise causing you to squeeze around him, trapping him in your aching desire. the both of you moan at the feeling and suddenly one hand presses on your spine until you're low to the counter. his hands grab your shoulders, fingers curling around the base of your throat as he changes his pace to hard and rough, the sound of your ass against his hips nearly hitting your ears over your cries of pleasure. 

the noises of your arousal swallowing his cock echo around the room in a familiar, comforting chorus as you both let out shuttering moans; his strong arms pull you back until you're once again pressed against his broad chest. his breath fans over your neck and you whine slightly when his thrusts press you up onto your tip-toes. his lips find your ear, "how's that feel?" your hole flutters from the deepness in his voice - he groans at the feeling. 

your response is a whine of ecstasy as you claw at his forearms, head tilting back until you can almost feel his erratic heartbeat. his chest rumbles with a light chuckle, "look, barely took ya any time to get fucked out on my cock," he praises, hand petting your wild hair, "knew you'd be good for me. always take what I give you, right?" 

you nod, desperate to reach the climax that's easily built within you from the stretch of him deep in you and his voice in your ear. your clit aches from being ignored and your hand snakes down to rub light circles on it; your hips jolt as you gasp raggedly, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. 

"no." he growls, hand grabbing your jaw sternly as he pounds into you, "when I'm fuckin' you, you keep your eyes on me." he snaps, squeezing your cheeks. "'s that clear?"

you nod in the mirror, whines getting louder as his name falls nearly incoherently from your lips- you see his lips ghost over your neck, the smirk that spreads over his pink lips as you finally get out a strangled, "Joelpleaseplease- s'close-" 

he knows what you need; you and Joel are each other's best escape. he pistons into you hard, chasing your high as he feels it spasming close around him. "easy, huh?" he snarls, hips just as harsh as his words, eyes sharp on yours. "who's easy, baby - me, or the one beggin' like a slut to cum on my cock?" 

for someone so quiet and closed off, Joel Miller has never shied away from using his goddamn words when he's fucking you, that's for sure. his words, his accent - they push you towards the edge and it almost distracts you from his question. his eyebrows raise in the silence as you gasp for words, moans choked  as his fingers slide down from your jaw to squeeze your throat. 

"look at'cha, can't even speak for me," he groans, his hand suddenly snaking down to smack your away from your clit; two larger, calloused fingers replace your shaky ones and you wail at the stimulation, almost too much.

you blink up at him through the mirror, unable to speak, unable to think as you feel the crest of something incredibly blissful growing; you let out a whine of ecstasy. "I'm- I'm easy," you concede, finally able to spit your words out, your voice higher than normal in your pleasure. 

Joel nods, kissing your sweaty hairline, "'s goddamn right you are, babygirl," he hisses, "easy for me. this pretty little pussy is mine, isn't it?" 

you scream, "yours, Joel-" before he barely finishes the sentence.

with your words, he smiles against your neck - the feeling of it sends goosebumps over your whole torso. "you're a lucky girl," he growls in your ear, teeth brushing the shell before licking it gently, "you can cum." 

you barely realize you've hit your orgasm until you’re writhing - a white-hot, searing arousal streaking your vision as your eyes roll back. he fucks you steadily through your orgasm, your thighs closing slightly around his large palm, but his fingers don't stop their motions on your clit. 

you shake and stutter for gasps as he pounds into you, chasing his own high that's been spurred - by your own words or the clenching of your orgasm around him, you're unsure. 

"love how you feel-" he groans, voice weakening as he nears his own orgasm, hips sloppy as he pushes your face down, against the cool tile of the bathroom sink. "fuck, baby, made to take this cock." 

his sentences are choppy, his gasps and grunts of pleasure mixing with the slap of your ass against him as he thrusts, your legs tired as he fills you full and then suddenly pulls out. you gasp at the suddenness of his absence, turning to look at him as if betrayed - but he looks completely gone, eyes dark with need. "gonna cum on your tits, sweetheart." 

your stomach flips at the word - one he's never used before - and you relax into his harsh grip, moving down to the ground on your knees as he grunts, "take this shit off now." 

his shirt is on the ground in half a second, your breasts bare to him as he fists his cock, eyes on you and lidded with pleasure. your hands fall onto his strong thighs, looking up at him in awe as he fists his cock, slick with your sticky spend, tip flushed and veins stretching over the shaft. "please, cum on me, want it so bad, Joel," you whine - his hand caresses your jaw and slips over your lips, sticking his thumb into your mouth. you suck eagerly and he moans your name deep, head tilting back in ecstasy. 

"fuck," he grunts, slipping his thumb out of your mouth before you can even swirl your tongue around it, and then he's hitting his orgasm.

ropes of his cum land on your tits, a small bit gathering on your chin as he slows his hand, letting out a few sharp breaths. he's barely caught his breath before your fingers are gathering a swipe of his thick cum, bringing it to your mouth. his dark eyes follow you through his labored breaths as you slowly suck his spend off of your fingers, "fuckin'- pretty," he mumbles into his hand as he runs a palm over his face, shaking his head. 

you smile, cheeks heating up. the sun is rising and the room is fully golden, bouncing off the mirror and illuminating his tan skin, the scars on his body and yours. he's pretty, you realize. 

you tell him so, quietly - in the silence of the bathroom. his scowl softens and you swear you see a blush forming as he rolls his eyes down at you from where you perch on the linoleum. 

Joel always says you only tell him sweet things to get him to fuck you - but in the afterglow of your actions, you catch sight of your makeup-stained pillowcase back in Joel's bedroom and it makes you grin. you know he doesn't wash it for a reason, the same reason you keep coming back to him. 

and you also know that the way he smooths his thumb over your hairline, the way your own hands in turn soothe over his thighs - those actions, they make up for everything else that's unspoken.

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taglist: @satansgoatt @elissaaa @queerponcho @bbyanarchist @lapricot @umavvitch @asreadbyaj @dinsbaby @cottoncandytomu @onmytallesttiptoess @switchbladedreamz @missannwinchester @abs-2020 @afandomidiot @cosm1c-babe @rogersbarnesxx @carleenphillips-blog @bonnibuckets @nightlovechild @jazzyspasms @girlboybug @cannolighost @pastelnap @userpedros @feministfanboi @frogers @grhowls @daddy-din @gothoppered @totallynotastanacc @robbatlover @casssiopeia @wannab-urs @redhotkitchen @joelapologist2001 @silkiers

message me if i forgot to tag u. i was pretty lazy with this one sorry. requests are open.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:

#joel miller x reader smut #joel miller smut #joel tlou smut #joel x reader smut #joel x reader #joel smut #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou spoilers #tlou hbo #the last of us smut #the last of us (tv) #the last of us x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal x reader

[rineptune]

hiiii! i just read your angel fic and it was so amazing omg😭😭😭 and i wanted to make a request for hazbin hotel if its possible, like the reader is from goetia clan, and somehow (i didnt think much about this request im sorry😭) ends up in the upper circle of pride ring, aka where hazbin hotel is, and i wanted it to be more alastor baised, because we know he doesn't like people who are stronger than him, and goetian are royals, so reader is stronger than him, i dont know you can wing it as you like i just really like your writing style!!

thank you!!!

under your skin.

summary: alastor despises aristocrat hellborns for the priviledged, unadultered power they’re born with, and he loathes you even more than anything else because you fall under every category he despises in hell.

a/n: winging it as we speak, nonnie & don't worry!! this made sense, and i just love this trope you submitted pls. and thank you!!

alastor despises you.

it’s pretty straightforward, though he conceals it perfectly with that for-show smile of his. no one could’ve guessed that there was a demon in hell that made his blood boil to the highest degree.

but he made sure the façade never crumbled, even when you showed no interest in him and his sinister advanced to use you as leverage for him.

he remembers the day you came to visit the hotel to congratulate charlotte. alastor remembers all too well because you paid him no mind and had your fill in questioning his true power. that’s when he found out that he loathes aristocrat hellborns—you, specifically.

“who are you again?” you ask.

“oh, forgive me,” he smiles, his eyes narrowing into slits for a second.

“i am the host of the hotel! you might’ve heard of me from my radio broadcast.”

“radio?” you ponder aloud.

“and here i thought radio had been long gone. vintage,” you chuckle. a bow of greeting you returned. “but quite irrelevant nowadays, won’t you agree?”

the way he smiled... so rigid and on the edge, you already knew how to get under his skin.

“i suppose we have contradicting perspectives on the matter.”

•

alastor wants to murder you.

you and he were the only ones present in the hotel, with the others out and about with their daily activities to bump up their morale to be redeemed.

and all of the places you could’ve made yourself comfortable in, you decided to lounge in his radio broadcasting tower. the nerve. you’re about to set off all of alastor’s accumulated rage if you were to break anything or even misplace anything from their original position.

“i heard the rumors,” you tell him.

inspecting the surroundings, alastor’s alert enough to not let his guard down. it’ll never completely settle.

“of how you broadcasted the screams of the overlords you overtook.”

that piqued his attention.

you? having heard of him now? 

how pathetic.

“i’m well-aware of how i get under your skin,” you smile. “and i’m glad i’m able to do so. it’s entertaining to see your glare, how your aura shifts, and how your shadow mirrors your true emotions.”

“ha-ha, you’re quite observant, sir.” alastor forces him to laugh.

“then, i hope for you to broadcast my agonizing scream in this very tower one faithful day.”

the mood dips. the usually easy and light aura is suffocating, and alastor’s knees buckle, forcing him to kneel in front of you. all of this against his will, his eyes piercing through yours. 

this triggered alastor’s fight-or-flight appearance, the figure becoming sharp and menacing as if he were as much of a threat as he used to be—as if he were still in his rising prime. 

“because i love the challenge,” you conclude with a chipper clap. “and i’d love to see you try and fail miserably.”

“fuck you,” he spat, smiling. “where’s the originality when you’re only quoting my exact words? haha.”

“i thought you’d be much wiser than to question my motives. though, i suppose i should be heading to the main lobby as i hear charlotte and her party have just arrived.” 

“think about it, alastor. if you play your cards right, you might be able to make a deal with me—or even better, kill me.”

alastor was not a man of faith; he does not believe in gods and deities, but he does pray for the goetia’s downfall. and when the time is right, he will strike with all his might just to laugh at your misery.

satan, he’s obsessed.

#classic ໒꒱ ink #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #alastor

[moongoopy]

a sweetener amongst death

cont: at the end of the day, two criminals remember they can always come back home to their sweet, oblivious roommate.

c/w: violence, pervy charecters, groping

c: geto x reader x gojo

a/n: i hope for comments and interaction, pls enjoy! (hoping its not too simple and rushed.)

"May my soul rest-!" were the last words of the cult member. Gojo scraped his shoe across the face of the dead and yawned. He lazily walked to the coach in the middle of the church and laid back at a job well done.

A scoff from his best friend made him giggle, he hung his head back to see geto place down another cult member on the ground.

"This place reeks of sex." "Dont they all?"

Geto ushered Gojo to scoot over on the coach, shutting away his spread legs to let his friend sit next to him. The brunette scanned the papers if they missed anything in the church. the ones who hired them just wanted this cult to fall apart and even that, it was at such a low price too.

The blue-eyed man yawned again to strike a nerve into his best friend before leaning forward,

"Why would you take this, its at the bottom of the list and theres just so many unnecessary things to do.."

Geto got up from the seat, fully ignoring his friend, and pulled the beads that the cult hung up on the wall and into the fire that was still lit. The countless papers that marked the existence of this cult were also thrown in. He chuckled dryly, uttering a few regrets about taking this bounty which Gojo agreed to.

He turned his head to him and lightly smiled.

"Satoru, remember the man that hovered over [Name] when you came back from the bathroom?" A spark was lit in Gojo's eyes as Geto pointed a gun at the doors that opened. A neat man who was dressed heavily entered and he dropped like a fly so quickly that Gojo let out a sharp chuckle. It was sad, the duo was the last thing that he saw before his own cult members but fret not, the leader always joins his cult at the end of the day.

"That's him."

------

Geto felt your fingers curl around his wrist when a supposed priest got near. There was nothing wrong with him other than the obvious signs of him persuading to join a cult along with a flyer of cult members smiling on the front page. Such positive advertising. He was about to politely reject the man, nodding to his repeated utterance of the Lord when he realized what made you so tense.

The priest's hand was wrapped around your waist so snugly and it made you squirm, he thought you were feeling a bit shy to such a persuasive man but you were uncomfortable. Geto steps infront of the priest, thanking him for such an oppurtunity to see them both in his church although the priest's eyes lingered more to you. Oh, the brunette couldn't have that, successfully peeling of the priest's hand off your waist with not much force.

"We'll make sure to come to and my pretty friend of mine is willing to seek such knowledge" This made the stranger delighted, bowing before distributing other flyers not before his eyes lingering hard enough on the person he wanted in his church.

"Hah, who was that?"

Satoru came back with pastries, he sidetracked but atleast he's back, stuffing a pastry into your mouth and not realising the murderous look on Geto's face.

------

"Stop! In the name of the Lord-!" The duo then kicked him around after Geto shot him around his vitals and watched the pervert bleed. Gojo was all ears to Geto's narrative, a horrified look on the bloody man.

"Oh really, Suguru? Tell me more-" Laughter spilled from his lips as he kicked with such force, his friend snarkily adds just how priests just can't keep anything in their pants. The sole of his shoe stomped down on the man's crotch with the other's foot joining in. The priest could probably see hell with how close to death he was, his eyes rolled to the back of his head with a choked scream.

Both of their faces harden but one was more gleeful, watching both their boots knock the life out of the body that dared touched their roommate's.

"We should've let you stay on your knees so you can get the true definition of repentance."

The white haired man then took Geto's gun and shot the priest in the throat. He squatted down over his body and slapped him twice in the face. He tossed the gun back to its owner and gave a double thumbs up. They can finally go home now.

The duo left the church through the back door and trudged to a river.

Geto crouched down near the bankside and took out his weapons and put them to the side to clean.

"Don't you need to clean up?" He washed his hands in the running water, washing his face that was stained with blood that wasn't his. The blue-eyed man stuck his tongue cheekily, confident that he left no traces and crossed his arms. Gojo had a wet cloth thrown at him much to his dismay, he was then forced to clean himself up by the strict orders of his friend.

After a moment, Gojo sighed.

"You could've just told me that pervert went and touched [Name], I thought you went senile for picking such a boring bounty.." Geto smiled, putting his weapons back in his pockets and used the path to walk their way back home.

"But it was worth a suprise, wouldn't you agree?" That made him smile, punching his friend's arm playfully. They both just know what the other likes.

After some thinking about what to have for dinner, you then texted in the group chat that you've made it and to come before it gets cold. The two grinned at each other and raced home.

The door to their apartment swung open and immediately they were engulfed in a hug by you, well if akwardly bent on the knees because its quite hard hugging two people at once.

Gojo leaned into your neck and took a deep whiff in, you smell like heaven; the shampoo that you always used was his favourite. Geto on the other hand held your hand and kissed the side of your neck, you were just so cute he could eat you up. Suddenly, you pulled back with a panicked look.

"B-blood!"

You stepped away and rushed to the laundry room and locked the door. The duo stood there and immediately Geto pulled at Gojo to smell him.

"Hey, what's your deal! I'm clean!" Geto squished his friend's shoulder in his hand, feeling irked.

"Yeah? But did you clean enough? I smell blood on you." He deadpanned and looked towards the laundry room. You had run off in such a hurry so did you know what they really were? They thought of this scenario many times but they didnt know they could fuck up, only because of a certain someone..

"We did bought ropes already so should we like.. I dont know corner them?" That made Gojo receive a punch from the man next to him, originally yes that was the plan but maybe he just wasn't up to it today. He wasn't hoping you would find out so quickly, this little game of cat and mouse was suprisingly fun for him. That he can admit as the duo's eyes gleamed with anticipation,

Geto walked to the direction of the laundry room, knocking on the door.

"[Name]? What are you doing in there?" He said cooly, his hand in his pocket; fingers idly tracing the steel of the knife.

There was silence and a bit of shuffling from the other room and he took out his makeshift key, after all that's how he gets into the houses of his victims. The door clicked and he slowly pushed it open then kicked it with his foot. He grabbed the door before it slammed against the wall to see that you haven't gone anywhere but simply crouched near the washing machine.

There was a bit of guilt on your face and he comes to, crouching to your level. He reached out to cup your face and he was so so close to feeling your lips underneath his thumb before you tilt your head to the side.

"My period came and.. I bled on your sheets by accident. I've been trying to clean it off but yknow.." He softly kisses your forehead, noting the faint blotches of red on the sheets even if the thing went through the wringer twice. He pats your shoulders and gently smiled.

"It was out of your control, sweetheart. It's okay, why dont we enjoy the dinner you made?" The slow signs of you lighting up made his heart full and he guided you out the laundry room with an arm around your waist. He swatted at Gojo who didnt even try to hide the ropes that he carried and turned your head the other way, if you weren't that adamant on looking at Gojo; he'd most likely kick the blue eyed beauty into the washing machine. Atleast, you just remembered the blood on the bedsheets and not the stench from Gojo. Now that Gojo actually took a sniff at himself, there was blood splatters on his dark tank top.

But no worries, atleast it was another day where you'd stay in the dark on who they really were.

After dinner, you sat on the couch squished between them. The news had been dilligently reporting about the cases around the neighbourhood and Gojo tried to hide his satisfaction.

While you, a shiver ran deep through you. These cases were near the apartment complex where all three of you is living in and it scared you. The two noticed, holding you against them.

They coo and brushed comforting hands onto your body, hoping it would calm you.

"Me and Suguru can chase the baddies away!" Gojo joked, squeezing you in his embrace and you nodded vigirously; eyes closed in joy. You didn"t want to say it but their touch was driving you crazy especially since it started from the laundry room. The way Geto held your face sent heat through your body and his thumb.. you had to pull away if not, who knows what would you do instead of feeling guilty on messing up his bedsheets.

And their bodies, their physique. You could feel their chests rub against your body, it took everything not to scream right now. It was like you didn't have to worry about the killers anymore when your raging hormones was speaking for you.

You couldn't help but gulp and stay stiff, their breath against your neck was another thing too, you feel like you were gonna explode from the tension.

And they didnt stop there, Gojo placed his hands inside your shirt since he does that a lot when his fingers get cold and he hooked them under the clasp of your bra. His lips played with your ear and with your nape. Geto switched to something less scary on television and rested his arm around your waist.

"So how was your day, [Name]?"

They silently smirk, loving how you shrink and freeze under their touch. As long as it made you forget about the dangers that you fear that was currently residing in your house, they can continue savouring the feeling of your skin.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #geto x reader #geto x you #jujutsu geto #geto suguru #jjk scenarios #geto scenarios #gojo scenario #geto x reader x gojo

[distraughtlesbian]

can i speak my truth ? can i keep it real ? there shouldve been more in-party conflict in blades 2. like obviously mc should’ve gotten to cuss mal out in particular when he was like You Dont Know What We’ve Been Thru as if getting kidnapped and forced into a magically induced coma and getting your blood stolen and having constant benadryl nightmares is a walk in the park lmfao, and also just gotten to talk more about what they went through and how it’s impacted them

but also there should’ve been way more beef between the other party members. like girl if i’m nia and i’m spiralling scorning sleep and food constantly hunting for a way to free MY GIRLFRIEND (!!) from the clutches of some goth elf cunt on top of making the fantasy catholic church christlike again and repressing my inner shadow demon and one of my friends is like “hesdeadjim.png give up also fuck you” and then fucked off to be an alcoholic pit fighter, i wouldve actually just thrown hands when we saw each other next. no magic no nothing just me and my nasty little fingers (covered in paper cuts from all the arcane shadow tomes ive been reading) coming straight for her eye sockets. staff of silverlake should’ve been nia’s weapon and she should’ve leapt into the pit in chapter 4 and clocked imtura in the skull with it.

like you bitches should be CRAZY!!!! you should all have DISORDERS!!!! you should be begging ravens perched on busts for RESPITE AND NEPENTHE from your memories of me !!!!!! the moon should never beam without bringing you dreams of ME and the stars never rise but you feel MY bright eyes. tyril should be half-mad with grief and stress he should be mumbling to himself and seeing mc’s silhouette in dark corners. nia should be clearly and obviously off her fucking rocker and constantly on the verge of self destructing and taking us all out with her. imtura should be constantly blind drunk so she doesn’t have to feel her grief or anything at all really. mal should have been in the wind the second it started looking like mc wasn’t coming back and nobody’s heard from him in months. kade should be in a bottomless pit of grief bc when he was stuck in the shadow realm we never gave up hope and we went to rescue him but now that the tables are turned he’s slowly losing hope and day by day and night by night we recede and he becomes more faithless. threep and loola should be inseparable sleeping in a pile together never beyond a wing-length from one another and keeping obsessive tabs on all the other party members no matter how far-flung across morella they are because they’ve already lost everyone and everything they knew to the shadow court once and they’ll be damned if they lose anything else. also kade and aerin should’ve built up a weird semihostile rapport bc once everything fell apart and everyone went their separate ways it was just the two of them in the whitetower palace and kade would go to his cell and sit out of arm’s reach to vent about his time in the shadow realm and his grief and hopes and fears. they both knew and loved mc, in their own ways, despite how aerin hurt them, and now they’ve both lost them, maybe for good. maybe one day aerin starts talking back

where is the SPICE where is the FLAVOUR? where’s the DRAMA where’s the OOMPH where’s the PANACHE? you cannot look at me and tell me these dysfunctional bitches wouldn’t fall back into their worst habits once the one person who held them all together up and vanished into the void. why am i not ending each chapter feeling like i’ve just gotten punched in the dick bc the love is so obviously still there and that’s why it hurts so bad. they should’ve put their whole budget and pussies into forcing the party to fit themselves back together even though they’ve all grown new sharp edges and keep cutting each other up. they should’ve gone full dark no stars about it. grief is an amputation but hope is incurable hemophilia you bleed and bleed and bleed, plants that are split down the middle dont heal they die, you are a language i am no longer fluent in but still remember how to read, what lived and died between us haunts me still, if someone asked me at the end i’d tell them “put me back in it”, i care what ghosts think of me, come back even as a shadow even as a dream, someone has to leave first this is a very old story there is no other ending to this story, etc, etc, you get it you understand. also the mc should’ve come back WRONG.

#maeve speaks #playchoices #choices #pixelberry #blades of light and shadow #bolas #bolas mc #mal volari #nia ellarious #imtura tal kaelen #tyril starfury #aerin valleros #threep pompedorfin #loola dupopodolis #bolas kade #bolas mal #bolas nia #bolas imtura #bolas tyril #bolas aerin #bolas valax #bolas threep #bolas loola

[kingofthe-egirls]

hihi i love ur hurt/comfort and would like to make a request 🫶🏽 what do u think of reader/you getting injured somehow, and luffy being overprotective & needy about it?? 🫣

so i hope this satisfies your cravings

SPRAINED ANKLE: LUFFY x Y/N

(cw: est relationship, sprained ankle, food mention, kissing, cunnilingus, so many m dashes sorry lmao)

(a/n: this feels like a part 1 but im scared to promise anything in case i dont wanna)

Songs: "All the Stars" by Mree

words: 870

You’re sitting with your foot propped up on a pillow, at the foot of the crow’s nest. Bandages wrap around your sprained ankle, with a silver ice pack freezing your skin.

Luffy is screaming at Sanji for food, as usual, since it’s almost noon and he has to snack at least every three hours. You lick your lips, waiting for the sudden impact you know is coming.

Smack!

Luffy collides into your side, sending the ice pack flying. His arms are wrapped around your waist, his face already smushed against yours.

“Kitty!” He shouts directly against your cheek. You strain away from his megaphone of a voice, squirming in his elastic arms.

“Stop it,” you complain, swatting him away. He groans, slumping against you with his head buried in your hair. He sniffs, once.

“Sorry,” he says, muffled.

You wriggle out from under him, his arms loosely draped over you like ship’s ropes. He’s got his black coat on, with his scarlet cardigan left open over his sculpted torso.

He snaps his hands back to normal. It’s like reeling in a measuring tape.

“Sanji’s making salmon today,” he swipes at his nose, squatting next to you with his dusty sandals planted firmly on the deck’s wooden slats. He’s scanning the horizon, sky reflected in his dark chocolate eyes. He smiles back down at you, squeezing them shut.

“Let’s make snacks!” He lifts you up with strong arms, carrying you bridal style toward the kitchen. He squats down again, still cradling you, as he picks up the ice pack he’d scattered earlier. He stands, his arms under your shoulders and knees, and kisses the tip of your nose. You hide your face in his neck, and sniff.

Cedar.

His sandals slap against the deck as he carries you across. You let your head fall on his shoulder, your eyes slipping closed. He’s carrying you oh so gently, slower than any rubber-wrapped speed shot he usually does.

He side-steps you into the room, softly closing the door behind him. You lift up, expecting to see the kitchen, but you’re surprised.

Luffy’s quarters.

“Captain?” You ask, staring up at him, the sharp underside of his jawline above you. He smiles down at you, sparkling eyes heavy.

He sets you down on the mattress, ass first.

“Wanna taste,” he says, sliding his hands up your legs. He squeezes at your thighs, smiling brightly. The lantern suspended from the ceiling sways above him, rocking in time with the subtle movement of the ship. “S’okay?”

Desperate, you nod.

Captain Luffy smirks, sliding your shorts down with no further hesitation. He sniffs deeply at the apex of your thighs, his lips dusting over the coarse hairs. He presses a kiss to the mound, this place at the center of yourself. He thumbs down your outer lips gracefully, spreading you apart ever so slightly. His lips part in awe.

“Sweetness…,” he whispers, swiping the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip. He softly strokes down the hood of your slick clit. His eyes sear yours as he circles the swollen head, his lashes casting shadows over his squishy cheeks. He smirks. “Say please?”

“Pleeaassseee,” you moan, arching your hips. He snickers, and then leans down on his stomach to nestle his face in front of your cunt. He noses at your clit, smooching the base of your entrance. He stays there, for a second. Just silently reintroducing his face to your pussy.

His hand skims down your leg before he hooks his fingers beneath your knee, setting it over his shoulder.

Your sprained ankle finds a comfortable place beside his spine, and you settle back into the bed.

You close your eyes.

****

Luffy sucks on your swollen clit, stealing little kisses in between. His thumb presses inside your pussy, squirming around as he buries it deep. He slathers his tongue over you, starting to thrust his thumb inside and out. Something flutters around his digit—something deep like it’s at the center of the earth—something forbidden and unseen and you’re squeezing—

He hisses, “S’tight, shit—,” before sucking harshly on your clit as you squirm. He speeds up inside you, lust clouding his senses as you start to sound out your pleasure from beneath him. He stuffs his tongue inside you, slurping at your juices as you scream (cream)--so he laughs and laughs inside of you. His voice vibrates through your abdomen as you seize and squirm and start to unravel beneath his tongue and his teeth and he’s he’s he’s um oh god he’s———

Everything.

Spots dance in front of your eyes, so you try to blink them away. Spit drips down your face.

Luffy rasps over you, his wheezy breaths scratching in his throat.

“Kiss me,” you say, so he does.

His lips taste like you.

He groans as you slide your tongue inside his mouth, coaxing him to start stroking it against yours.

He swoons into the kiss, something high-pitched and squeaky sounding from the back of his throat. His body melts against you.

“Luffy…,” you whisper, bitten lips swollen and stinging as you both devour each other’s faces. Like animals, sometimes. He scrapes his teeth against your cheek. “So sexy.”

“Thanks, princess.”

****

#thats all she wrote #sike #there's another paragraph in my notes app sequel style #dumpster dive #luffy x y/n #luffy x you #luffy x reader #luffy smut #luffy fanfic #opla smut #one piece smut

[gaybananabread]

AHHH, ok ok. This is my first time like ordering anything so I’m nervous asf. But I’d like oranges, grapes and cherries with Ler!Jax and Lee!Pomni. Obv everything platonic, and like, go nuts with the plot. (Idk if this is worth mentioning pero I have this silly little headcannon that Pomni squeaks like a squeaky toy when squeezed so like, IF YOU WANT, you can add that.)

IF YOU DONT DO THIS ONE ITS OKK, I rly enjoy your writing and hope you have a great day/ night, tyy <33

Fruit(s): Oranges, Grapes, Cherries

Aww thank you Anon! You’re all good, and love that Pomni would absolutely become a dog toy (¬‿¬). Jax is definitely interesting to write for, and I like playing around with his asshole-ness. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!

Lee: Pomni

Ler: Jax

Summary: Pomni is still getting used to the circus, anxious and uneasy in the new environment. Jax tries to help out, though he does it in his own annoying way.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

In the circus tent, small NPCs ran wild, knocking things over and babbling nonsense. They were like the Gloinks, but so much worse. Caine had dipped on them once again, leaving the characters to fend for themselves. Zooble peaced out, but the others were stuck with them.

It took nearly the whole day, but they had managed to contain the little monsters until Caine came back to woosh them away. For most of the characters, it was weirdly routine. For the newest arrival, however, it was more than off-putting. Pomni just felt…out of place in the digital world. She wandered around the tent, trying to calm herself down.

-

Jax was walking around, trying to find something to do. He would have messed with Ragatha, but her and Gangle were having some kind of “girl’s day.” Ugh…he wanted no part of it. 

Just as he was considering going to explore the forbidden rooms, he heard the faint jingling of bells. Pomni must’ve been “exploring” the grounds again. While she wasn’t his usual target, the jester would probably keep him entertained until something else happened.

The smug and confident smirk he always wore shrank as he approached her. Pomni looked so…so tired. Tired and way too wound up. Still, he sauntered over, trying to gauge just how upset she was. “Hey, newbie. You sane after that horror show?”

Pomni flinched at his voice, taking a second to register what he said; she’d been spacing out for most of the day. “U-uhm…yes? Why?”

He rolled his eyes, trying to act as aloof as possible. “Really? ‘S just that ya look like you’re about to fall apart. Hey, you think that’s possible here?” Jax cared about how she was doing, but he had an image and a rep in the circus. No way he was jeopardizing that.

“Shut up, Jax…” She turned away from him, rubbing her arm and looking down. The girl felt crummy enough; she didn’t have the energy to deal with his junk. 

He chuckled, leaning down and getting eye-level with her. Jax was bored, yes, but he didn’t want to see Pomni so down. Might as well try and cheer her up. “Aww, c’mon Pom-Pom! Try a smile; it won’t kill ya!” He reached out, trying to poke her side in an attempt to get her to smile. Before he could even get close to her blue side, she gasped softly and jerked away from his hand. Oh…that’ll work.

The look on his face was a dead giveaway to his plan. “Jax, no! I swear, don’t you even think abo-KYAH!” Pomni was cut off by a sharp poke to her stomach, whatever she was trying to say lost in a squeal.

“Oh, I’m doin’ more than think about it~” Jax’s voice was smug as ever, his gloved hands wrapping around her middle and wiggling them into her sides. The bunny crouched down, just so he could whisper in her ear. “Tickle tickle, Pomni~”

Squeaky and bright giggles bubbled out of her, only making Jax’s smirk grow. Pomni was much less amused, kicking and wriggling around in his grip. “Y-youhuhu prihick! Gehet ohoff mehehe!”

“Nah, don’t think I will.” One fun thing the purple rabbit noticed; Pomni was blushing. Really blushing, so brightly that it put the circles already on her cheeks to shame. So, of course, he called her out on it.

“Wow, I didn’t know you could blush like that, newbie!” He cooed, making sure to poke up and down her ribs as he spoke. “Thought bright red was crybaby’s thing, but you go girl~” 

“Sh-shuhut uhuhuhup!” The bells on Pomni’s hat jingled with every sharp jolt and tug, only making the scene funnier. Jax was thoroughly enjoying himself; he had maintained his vibe while also making Pomni smile. True, he was being a bitch about it, but it was working.

Wanting to try something else, Jax clamped both hands firmly on her sides, giving them a nice squeeze. Nothing could’ve readied him for what happened next. “Jahahax! Wouhuld you- *squeak*” 

Suddenly, his hands stopped moving, giving her a quick breather as the shock and amusement set in. After a few seconds, a loud bark of laughter escaped him, his voice more playful than it had been the whole time. “No *sproing*-ing way… You squeak?!” 

Without any further warning, he dug into her sides, rapidly squeezing them in the hopes of more squeaks. “J- *squeak* COHOHohome ohon! Quihihit- *squeak* JAHAX!” The sound was almost like a dog toy’s squeaker; it endlessly amused Jax, leaving the rabbit wanting more and more of the adorable sound.

“This has gotta be my favorite quirk of yours, squeaky-toy!” He squeezed and poked along her sides, sneaking a quick rib scribble in every few seconds. Best day ever…

“P-PLEHEHE- *squeak* NOHO! JAHAX!” While he was more than enjoying the squeaks and laughter, he could tell Pomni was wearing out. Not wanting to potentially get on Ragatha’s very-bad side, he stopped squeezing the jester. “Alright, alright, no more squeezes. That was fun, though~”

Pomni went almost limp in his arms, trying to catch her breath. She looked up at him expectantly, expecting to be released. Jax only laughed at her expression. “Oh, newbie, no. I never said I was done~” The ever-growing blush on her cheeks made him smile wider, his almost haughty confidence growing.

He tested out her neck, smirking at the surprised giggles he received. “You’re just a walking tickle-spot, aren’t ya? There anywhere you ain’t ticklish?” Deciding to be a bit merciful, he kept the tickling to light scratches, exploring the area. 

Much to his surprise, Pomni’s giggles softened, her body going almost slack against his. Jax wondered if he’d managed to kill her for a second, but he soon realized that she was just…enjoying it. Pomni wasn’t trying to push at his hands anymore; she just grabbed his wrists and loosely hung on.

“Aww, Pomni! You like this, don’t ya~?” He continued lightly tickling underneath her chin and the front of her neck, basking in the lazy giggles and lax squeals he got. Jax had no idea how someone could practically melt from getting tickled, but he wasn’t gonna question it. 

“Ihihihi- shuhuhut ihit…” Pomni could’ve had a better response, but she was too comfy to try. While he was still tickling her, it felt much more relaxing and nice in that spot. She could’ve stayed there all day…

Quickly realizing the jester was about to fall asleep on him, Jax stopped and patted her back. Pomni took a few shaky breaths, residual giggles still squeaking out in her daze. The bunny boy just chuckled, trying to help her wake up, in a sense. “You’re good, I’m done, wakey-wakey.”

Pomni was tired, though, and feeling like mild revenge. She just leaned into the purple boy, closing her eyes and letting the sleepy relaxation take over; girl was out in seconds. 

“...Pomni?” Jax’s smirk slowly fell, his brow-area bunching. She hadn’t moved in a few seconds, though he could see her breathing. Did she… That little-

Seeing her asleep on him felt strangely similar to a kitten napping there. It felt wrong to move… “*boing* it…”

Hopefully Ragatha and Gangle will be done soon…

#kasey's fruit shop #tadc tickle #lee!pomni #ler!jax #ticklish!pomni #sfw tickling community #tickle fic #tickle #fruit shop event #the amazing digital circus tickle #tadc #tadc jax #tadc pomni #the amazing digital circus

[lovrily]

hii!! i absolutely love your writing!! 😍 can i request a fic please with steve x fem!reader. mutual pining but they dont know with soulmate au. but steve is the first one who finds out that they're soulmates. thank youu <33

this is so sweet i love it thank u for requesting <3 i'm sorry it took so long, i'm in uni so i haven't had much time to write!! i hope this is similar to what you wanted!! - steve x fem!reader, 4000 words

the fact is that steve harrington knew you were soulmates the first time you opened your mouth, but he thought following that intuition would be corny, so he did not. instead, he let it eat him alive for a decade like a parasite, which made more sense to him to do. in the beginning, at least.

"hi."

this was fourth grade. you and steve had been in the same elementary school classes since kindergarten, and he knew who you were- but not well. you bounced between being quiet and loud; from sitting silently on the school bus with your head rattling against the window, to bouncing around the playground, coattails flapping in the autumn wind. all kids were like this, it seemed. elementary school flew by in a haze of long division, scraped knees, and complementary shaved ice. at the end of the day, every kid would end up talking to one another, at some point, shy or not. but this was the first time you had ever spoken to him.

steve bristled. "hey."

it was an incredibly fascinating phenomenon, you would later realize. the capacity of a child to fall in love with somebody they'd only spoken to once, and for it to never go away, even when adulthood made you strangers.

steve sniffled, cold october wind scratching his cheeks. he had an arm wrapped around the frozen metal pole of the jungle gym, his friends dangling about behind him.

"um," you started. "my friend dropped her journal down there and she's afraid to go get it."

you pointed at the mulch inside the dome of the jungle gym, then to your friend, who was whisper screaming profanities at you for saying, "she's afraid to go get it."

"i'm sorry!" you whispered back.

your frightened eyes followed the trail of mist your breath left in the icy air, dazedly. then you squinted against the breeze, trying not to stare at steve. you didn't want him to think you were weird, and you wouldn't ever have been brave enough to talk to him had your friend not begged for her journal back.

steve swallowed. he heard his heart in his ears; thump, thump. he liked the way you wobbled in the cold, nose all scrunched up as if it would somehow keep you warm.

"you want me to go get it?" he asked. "the journal?"

"yes!" you responded. "if you can. please. thank you."

steve dove into the jungle gym and retrieved the diary like it was a matter of national security. when he returned, valiantly, he banged his head against a rung of the jungle gym and hissed. you gasped, the sound a sharp wheeze.

"are you okay?"

"yeah, didn't hurt. s'fine."

he handed you the journal. the tip of your thumb poked his knuckles when you grabbed it. thump, thump.

"okay," you nodded. "well, thanks. thank you."

"yeah, no problem. you- do you need anything else?"

your lips crept up, threatening to make the widest grin you had ever grinned in your life, but you scrunched them down. don't look stupid.

"oh, no, just this. that's okay."

"okay. just checking."

you blinked at him, then sniffled, wiping your sleeve across your nose. "okay, bye."

steve saw an entire life before him, then; prom, marriage, a mortgage. she's so pretty.

"bye."

that's all he said.

steve's friends laughed like hyenas at him once you had gone. and your friend had dove off the jungle gym to chase you across the field and hiss, "hey, y/n, he definitely likes you!"

you weren't so sure. but you wished he did; that you were sure of.

. . .

steve decided he was going to marry you if you said yes. well, in a few years, at least. he definitely wasn't going to ask you before middle school. that was too early.

middle school came and went and he realized that, regretfully, middle school was also too early to ask a girl to marry you. but he wasn't asking you anything. at all. you never talked to him; and he wondered if it was something he did. he saw you in class, and in the hallways. he saw you help your friends carry their books, and pick the fuzz out of their hair when they couldn't see that it was there. you were kind. he watched your presentations and how your hands shook when you spoke. he wondered why you wouldn't talk to him, if it was because you didn't want to.

"she's just quiet, man," his friends would say. "you gotta' approach her. and, i mean, why would you even wanna' be with a girl like that? sounds boring."

after that, he didn't mention you anymore. to anyone. he didn't like it when his friends poked fun at you, and he especially didn't like that he never knew what to say in return. you were shy, it seemed. or, maybe, you just didn't like him.

or, maybe, you've only talked to her once in your life and if you just talked to her again, she would be your friend.

he decided that this was ridiculous. it was better to never speak to you again, and not have to deal with the scorn of rejection from a girl he had been in love with since age ten.

better to say nothing.

. . .

steve's infatuation became impossible to ignore when you started babysitting max mayfield.

in the fall of 1984- your sophomore year- max's mother contracted you (at a very discounted rate) to watch max when billy, her step brother, could not. at first, this wasn't overly often; just the occasional ride to school and microwaved television dinner. you liked max, and despite her cold exterior, she seemed to like you. when billy realized he could get you to watch max more often at even further discounted rate (a.k.a. no rate at all), he forced her on you more often. what were you supposed to do? refuse to watch her, and let her sit at home by herself? knowing max, she wouldn't sit at home, anyway. she would go find trouble. of course you watched her, even when billy gave you no choice.

this is how you ended up babysitting on halloween.

unbeknownst to you, it was steve's neighborhood that you were wandering through that night. max had gone to meet up with her friends; mike wheeler, lucas sinclair, dustin henderson, will byers- whom you had never seen her hang out with before. she seemed to think they would all be happy to see her, but apparently, some of them were not.

"mike is such an asshole," max huffed.

she kicked at the dirt along the side of the road as you walked. you folded your arms over your chest, fists bundled in your sleeves, hair whipping over your eyes. her michael myers mask dangled in your hand. you hadn't expected to be out all night, you hadn't expected to be working on halloween at all. not that you had other plans to attend to, or anything you would rather be doing, but you hadn't dressed for the weather. a zip-up hoodie was all that shielded you from the brisk wind, erring on the side of winter rather than fall that halloween.

"i believe you," you snickered.

"good. i just don't understand why he has to be such a dick. i mean..."

she continued to flay mike as you meandered down the interstate, having wandered completely away from the sidewalk and any neighborhood you were familiar with. anxiety beat in your chest and pooled in your belly. it had to be close to midnight, and you were nowhere near home. you had to turn around.

"hey, max-"

she ignored you for the distraction of flashing red lights. you had come upon a house; swathes of people milling about outside and dancing dangerously close to the uncovered pool. bodies in bloody corsets and leather jackets swarmed the grass and filled up the windows like paintings. your stomach sunk.

this was steve's house. you just knew it. you didn't know how you knew, but you knew. he always had halloween parties, and everybody came to them. and though you hadn't spoken to steve since, well, elementary school, probably- you didn't want him knowing you had nowhere to go on halloween night. and you certainly didn't want to be seen at his halloween party that everybody was invited to except you.

rightfully so. you weren't friends. he wouldn't want to be my friend.

"oh, shit," max murmured. "whose house is this?"

"i don't know," you mustered. "it's late, though. i'd love to berate mike some more, but we should probably head back towards your house while we do it."

"hey!"

oh, god.

"no fuckin' way," a voice surmised, sauntering over with staggering feet. he was tall, lanky like a pole, blonde as cornsilk. he wore a cheap costume- a blue muscle tank and two fraying boxing gloves. a troupe of boys followed him, each drunker than the last. "i know you!"

"do you?" you laughed, trying to sound unphased. you knew him. he was on the basketball team, one of steve's friends, though you didn't know his name. you wondered if you were about to become the victim of some outrageous, hollywood instance of bullying; like when kids got their skulls smashed in lockers or drowned in toilets in movies.

"yeah. you look alright, huh? never seen you out anywhere before, though. what's that costume? some kinda' track girl?"

thump, thump. your heart was in your ears and your throat. they laughed as you gazed over their heads, scanning the yard. thankfully, steve wasn't around. nancy. he was probably with his girlfriend, nancy.

"you're steve's girl," slurred the blonde.

max glowered. "she's what?"

i'm what?

you blinked like your eyelids weighed a thousand pounds. "no, i'm not."

"yeah you are. he talks about you, like, all the fucking time. well, not so much anymore. cuz' of miss nancy."

the troupe of boys fawned and groaned, mocking and kissing. their laughter filled your ears, an awful sound. they were making fun of you, right? they had to be.

"don't be an asshole," griped max.

they laughed even harder.

"seriously, i'm not joking. he's been talking about you for, like, years. he's obsessed."

your cheeks flared hot and red. there was no hiding your humiliation anymore, no reason to pretend you weren't upset. they could see it. everybody could. how is it possible that you could have made such an awful impression in the fourth grade that steve had been making fun of you for six years? was it that obvious that you had a crush on him?

you positioned max on your left to shield her from the drunken boys and tried to walk away.

"y/n-" max lamented.

"it's fine. no big deal," you whispered.

"goddamn," drawled the blonde boy. "makes sense why he gave up on you. can't even hold a conversation. not nearly fuckin' hot enough to be acting like th-"

the punch that followed landed like a hammer on stone.

you whirled around, clutching max by her shoulders like it would do anything to protect her. the sight before you was something out of dreams and nightmares.

the blonde boy was being hoisted off the ground by two scantily clad firemen, blood dripping from the sweaty skin between his upper lip and nostrils. and it had been steve harrington who'd thrown the punch.

he backed up slowly at first, ringing out his fist like a rag. a black suit was snuff against the breadth of his shoulders, dark hair flopping into his eyes. his eyes scrunched up for a moment, lashes fluttering, and he cursed under his breath. damn. that had to hurt.

you pictured a brunette boy with rosy cheeks, squinting through the cold like it burned him, leaning against a jungle gym.

steve looked at you and you backed away like you would be next. obviously, you wouldn't be. but when he looked at you, his eyes were painted red.

"you alright?" his gaze flashed to the little girl beside you, confused. "both of you?"

he was out of breath. suddenly, you were too. what hell is this?

"yeah," you blurted. "yes. we're fine. i'm so sorry, i don't even know what-"

you took to long to finish your thought. i don't even know what's going on, i don't even know what he meant. why have you been making fun of me?

"i don't know what he said," steve panted. "whatever it was, it's bullshit. he's a dick. don't-"

he faltered.

"i'm sorry," steve scathed. "i don't know what all he said."

"it's okay," you shook your head.

"no." he wiped a hand over his eyes. "it's not-"

"harrington!" the blonde boy shouted. "get your ass over here! now!"

steve kept his eyes on you. "you sure you're okay?"

"we're fine," you nodded, pulling max away, eager to be anywhere else. your head was reeling. "we'll go. it's really alright. we'll just go. don't...don't break your hand."

he made an odd face at you; something amused and furious. you spotted a black glint on the ground. his sunglasses.

you picked them up and held them out. he took them, and your thumb brushed against his knuckles.

thump, thump.

"don't break your hand," you repeated. "just, don't- be...i have to get her home. i'm sorry. thank you."

you took off, max dragging behind you, and halfway home she started cackling. "what the hell was that about?"

. . .

the next summer, babysitting max mayfield turned into babysitting all of her friends, and by then, you were irrevocably intertwined with the upside down, steve harrington, and apparently, russia. you'd seen it all. the demogorgon, the demodogs, steve's bat of one-thousand nails. you'd met eleven, whose pixie cut had grown into a bob, and then bangs. you'd watched her move away, the byers along with her. all of it, you had been there for.

but you refused to befriend steve.

it was the most ridiculous situation (as it always was with the two of you) and you had no idea why. you had no idea why his friends had made fun of you at the halloween party, why your one conversation in elementary school had led him to be so disgusted by you, why, no matter what you did; every class attended, every step taken, every word spoken, every alien-abomination killed- led you back to steve harrington.

steve knew why, of course. you were soulmates. but you hated him. so what was he supposed to do about it? you never talked to him; not when you brushed shoulders hiding from demodogs on an abandoned bus, not when you helped haul him out of the starcourt mall movie theater, his intoxicated head bouncing against the crook of your neck.

he thought about that every time he saw you.

and robin buckley knew all about it. when steve finally caved and told her everything, it was clear to her. she knew, without a doubt, that the two of you were just idiots. and no matter how corny it was, you were definitely soulmates. for better, or for worse.

actually, she knew it before he ever told her. all anyone had to do was watch the two of you.

each time you came to scoops ahoy that summer, steve scooped you a serving of black raspberry chip in a plastic bowl, without you having to order. (he'd seen you ask for it once when robin was working the counter, and had prepared it for you every time since). you were polite each time, saying thank you, you didn't have to do that. and steve would say, oh, no problem. you would turn to whichever kid you were babysitting that day and say, it's my favorite. and each time, steve would smile. but he would turn away and pretend to be scrubbing the sink- which made you think you had pavloved him into giving you your favorite ice cream each time he saw you, that you were holding him hostage somehow, because he pitied you.

this was not the case.

on the occasions in which upside-down business relegated you to riding in steve's car, you always sat in the back, passenger's side, where he could see you in the mirror. steve prefered to drive with the windows down. but his eyes would flick to the mirror, to where you sat in the back. when your hair swallowed your head, the summer breeze blowing it into your eyes and mouth, you never complained. but steve always watched. he rolled the windows up whenever the wind was too strong, without a word.

there was more. when you climbed the rope out of the upside-down into eddie's trailer, he lingered below, hands outstretched incase you fell. when you accidentally snagged your finger on a splinter at the creel house, he set down band-aids and neosporin on the coffee table, and waited around the corner incase you asked for help.

he recognized your favorite shirts. he never touched you without asking, even on accident, even to help. he never made a joke without looking to see if you were laughing. he listened to every word you spoke; to him, to the others, to yourself, but he never pried. he never sat close to nancy when you were in the same room, or robin, even- on the off chance you thought there was something there. he knew your favorite songs, and would search for them on the radio without saying anything. and when you were in danger, he always got you behind him; even if you didn't notice.

"grow the fuck up, steve, just TALK to her."

steve blinked, robin's open-mouthed expression the picture of exhaustion. he swallowed.

"yeah, whatever. okay? i'm not scared."

"don't be dense."

"i'm not dense."

"just tell her you like her," robin huffed.

they were folding clothes at the school, putting them in boxes to donate. vecna had torn a hole in the sky, crimson kindling behind the pewter clouds outside. a storm was coming. things might never get back to normal.

there might never be another moment quiet enough to tell you the truth.

steve nodded. "yeah," he muttered, not unkind. "i guess you're right."

robin threw a bra at him.

. . .

what kind of creep would follow you home in the middle of the apocalypse?

you balled your fists at your sides, charging ahead. the wheeler's house was only a block away, and with no car, you had to go on foot to pick up the remainder of their donations. you were out of breath, sweat beading on the back of your neck, happy and angry to be alone all at the same time. the sky looked like it was bleeding, and everything was changing. so much had already changed, but nothing that you wanted to.

you were aware of the guy's presence behind you, his body a wall of heat, his shadow casting a long grey ghost on the pavement in front of you. his hair flopped over his eyes like some sort of catalogue model, the imprints of his sleeves shown rolled up to his elbows. what a dick.

he'd been following you for about thirty seconds. you were the only person sent to the wheeler's to gather donations, and if this stranger had tagged along for that purpose, he would have told you by now.

you sped up. he sped up. you started running. he reached out his hand, as if to grab the back of your jeans.

you hauled around a wound up a smack that would tattoo your palm-print on his cheek forever.

steve seized your arm.

"what the hell?"

you sucked in a breath. "steve?"

"jesus christ," he panted, glancing between your eyes and your wrist inside his fingers. "you could have killed me."

"oh my god," you breathed out. he released you instantly, and you put your hands on your knees, bending. "oh my god."

"are you okay?"

"shut up! just shut up!"

"okay," he nodded. "okay. just-" he rubbed a hand down his face. "jesus, fuck," he murmured.

"i'm sorry," you stood. lunged closer, lungs deflated like old balloons. "steve. oh my god. i'm sorry."

"no!" he scoffed. "don't be sorry. it's my fault. fuck. i don't know why i didn't say anything, i should have said something."

"i thought you were following me!"

"i was," he nodded. swallowed, like there was a rock in his mouth.

you panted. "oh."

"well, yeah, i-" he squinted. for the briefest, briefest moment, his pupils flicked from your eyes to your lips, swollen in the sun. "fuck."

it was enough. that, right there, that was enough. you suddenly understood.

you saw that stupid brunette boy squinting on the playground, his lips chapped from the cold, his cheeks red as irons. you saw him with blood on his knuckles, staggering away from the friend he had just mauled. you saw his hand outstretched; handing you ice cream, opening the car door, lingering around your wrist.

he hadn't been making fun of you all those years. he liked you.

idiot.

everything bubbled to the surface; you had so much to say but so little at the same time. you were so embarassed, still embarassed, after all this time, after everything.

stop it, you thought. get over it. do something.

so you made a choice.

"kiss me."

his eyes nearly popped out of his head. "sorry?"

you couldn't even repeat it. nerves shot through you like lightning, seizing your heart, making your hands shake.

"if you want to, i mean. obviously. i thought- only if you want to-"

"i want to," he breathed.

"you do?"

"are you kidding me? are you joking?"

you grimaced. "no."

"y/n," steve softened. like a lament, like it was the first time he'd ever said your name. his brows knit together.

he didn't finish his thought. he just did what you asked.

when he kissed you, the two of you locked into place; slotted together like twin shards of broken glass, reunited. his mouth was surprisingly cool despite the blazing heat around you, like his nervousness was palpable, cold to the touch. his hands shook, grazing over your shoulders, your waist, the back of your neck, unsure of where to touch first, like he wouldn't have the chance to touch you anywhere ever again. he landed with one hand on the back of your neck, your hair spilling between his fingers, and the other around your waist, holding you close.

you ducked away for a breath and thought he might cry.

"i have to ask you," you panted.

"yeah, anything," steve breathed.

"at the halloween party, when you hit that guy. you liked me."

"what? of course. always. i always have. i should have said so. i'm so stupid."

"no, you're not. don't say that."

his hands shifted, palms on either side of your face.

"but you weren't making fun of me," you said, even though it was stupid. his pupils were darting across every point of your face- your nose, your cheeks, your chin. "and he wasn't making fun of me. not until the end, at least."

steve's face crumpled. "you're killing me, y/n."

"he meant it?" you grinned. "you did like me? the whole time?"

"for a decade, killer." he grimaced. "stop looking at me like that."

"like what?"

"like that's a good thing. i should've killed him for talking to you like that."

"no," you laughed, because he obviously didn't mean it.

"yeah, i should have. yes."

maybe he did mean it.

you kissed him this time, and you felt him shudder; his fingers twitching across your face. when you pulled back, he ran his fingers over your closed eyes, grazing your eyelashes.

"i'm sorry," he whispered.

"me too," you said softly. "i should have said something."

"no," he shook his head. "no. that's on me."

the two of you sat there for a moment longer. the sky had darkened overhead, the crimson behind the clouds now a shade the color of wine, dark and murky. heat lightning flashed like sirens. hawkins was imploding.

"this town is ridiculous," you muttered.

"i know," steve huffed. like he'd been waiting years to say it. "it's hot as hell. where are you going?"

"the wheeler's, for donations."

"i'll walk you. if you want. next to you, though, not behind you like a creep."

you tried not to grin. "oh, will you?"

steve shook his head, casting you an incredulous look as he fell in line beside you on the sidewalk. "nothing you say could embarrass me, at this point. absolutely nothing."

"why not?"

because i was right, he wanted to say. because i've known we were soulmates since the fourth grade.

actually, it was still extremely embarrassing, so he kept the thought to himself- despite the enormous amount of relief and euphoria it brought him. you'd missed prom, but marriage and a mortgage didn't seem so far off, as long as the world didn't end.

steve just shook his head instead. "nothing. hey, are you following me?"

"shut up!"

. . .

i haven't written in so long i hope this is similar to what you asked for!!! i wanted to write more than just a drabble so i expanded on it i hope that's okay. much love. mwah

#steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington drabble #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you

[malereadermaniac]

Go to bed ~ Leon Kuwata x Male Reader

It was early in the evening, 9pm sharp

You'd been scrolling mindlessly on tiktok for the past hour

You come across a video you felt you just needed to share, so you post it on your Insta story

Hoping you can making your friends giggle at it

Of course, Sayaka replies to it, and the two of you spiral into a conversation

But halfway through your convo with Sayaka, you get a message from none other than Leon

You and Leon were good friends, you liked the red-head, you went to hid games and cheered him on louder than anyone else

He fucking loved it when he heard your voice in the crowd

Leon had recently realised he had the fattest crush on you, so he did what any reasonable person would do and asked a friend for help

However, that friend he asked was Mondo.

Who encouraged Leon to talk to you as much as he could and to try exert dominance

"Cause a guy like (y/n) would totally love a dominant typa guy ya know?" - verbatim Mondo's advice to Leon

You end your conversation with Sayaka and go check what Leon sent you

It was a short reply to your story

"Go to bed, it's late"

You audibly chuckled, you looked at the time on your phone

It was barely 9:30

What the hell was Leon on to be going to bed so early?

"Bro it's 9:30 it's so early wdym???"

"This is actually late for me, I go to bed at 9 pm, its much better for you yk"

"Oh really now?"

"Yeah, clearly why I'm so much healthier and better than you"

Oh no...

Leon clearly misunderstood the kind of dominance Mondo meant.

....

....

"(Y/n)? You still there?"

You left him on seen again and then shut off your phone

"Oi (y/n)!"

"Shit please dont ignore me."

"I'm sorry okay"

"(Y/nnnnn)"

Leon was panicking, spam texting you as you put your phone on silent and went to bed

Guess he achieved his goal of getting you to go to bed

But he pissed you off while doing so

Truthfully you didn't care, Leon was ditzy from time to time and didn't think before he spoke

You were used to it

But you took up the opportunity to make the man frantic

You weren't thick, you knew the baseball player was crushing on you

And you were crushing on him too, hard

So knowing that Leon was now worrying that he messed up his chances with you gave you a sick pleasure - you didn't care if it was just the tiniest bit toxic

The next morning you woke up well rested

Your phone now plastered with message notifications from a certain ginger

You open them and send one quick message

"Oops I fell asleep sorry... Guess you are better than me for that haha ❤️"

Leon stopped in his tracks when he read that message, toothpaste falling out of his mouth as he froze

The sportsman quickly finished brushing his teeth and screenshot the message

Sending it to Mondo, frantically messaging him

"WHAT DOES THE HEART MEAN OMFG WHAT???"

"AHHHHH"

"HFHFJFHSJDNDN"

"Dude chill.... he defo fucks with u" mondo replies half asleep

Leon short-circuits, mindlessly changing as thoughts of a relationship with you fly through his head

He was like a schoolgirl, but he had reason to, in his eyes you were the finest of men

"Good morning~" you say with a smile as you sit down next to the muscular man

"Hey, beautiful~" he mumbles flirtily

"Oh? That's a new one?"

"Yeahhh figured I should up my game if I wanna get with you by the end of the year"

Holy shit you were shocked just how much that one heart emoji riled the ginger up

"Hold your horses, BallBoy... who said I was getting with you?" You tease him

"Oh just you wait, (n/n)..."

Short but eh whatevs!!

This has happened to me before - I doubt he meant it as anything but I just remember the situation while writing this and wtaf...

Anyway hope u enjoyed!

#male reader #gay #x male reader #fanfic #fluff #cute gay #anime #danganronpa #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa x male reader #leon kuwata #leon kuwata x male reader #leon kuwata x reader

[claymoresword]

I Choose Her | Chp: 6

Hermione Granger x Slytherin Fem!Reader

Summary: You are the daughter of two known death eaters from one of the oldest and richest families in the wizarding world. Are you truly prepared to give up everything you know for Hermione Granger?

Pairing: Hermione x Reader

Wordcount: 3.4k

Warnings: smut, nsfw, use of homophobic slur, angst, reader receiving, top!reader, draco malfoy sympathiser

Note: first and foremost, i'm starting a taglist for this fic so if i u wanna be added do leave a comment!

secondly, gonna just be honest with y'all and say this is probably gonna be the last happy hermione x reader chapter for awhile bc it gets dark from here on out so brace yourselves

(also sorry to play into the cliche jealousy trope but i had so much fun writing it so im not totally sorry )

anyway this is a hefty chapter i hope u enjoy!

You felt a touch on your arm, opening your eyes you expected to be met with the sight of Hermione. She had refused to leave your side the past few days you had spent in the infirmary.

To your surprise, you're met with steely blue eyes instead. Draco is sat by your bedside, uncharacteristically soft gaze plastered across his face.

Your chest constricts at the sight, this was the Draco you remember.

"Hey" The platinum haired boy whispers, a sheepish smirk forming.

"Hi." You reply, mimicking his expression.

"How are you feeling?"

"I don't feel much of anything really, with all the numbing charms Hermione's put on me." You quip.

You joke but you're eternally grateful to your girlfriend for her unconditional care for you.

You swear sometimes she is too good to be true.

Draco breaks your gaze and lets out a chuckle.

"She seems to really care about you." He says earnestly.

"I'm lucky to have her."

You watch as Draco's face contorts, an undistinguishable expression, embarrassment perhaps, or guilt.

"Maybe I've been a bit too hard on her."

Amused, you let out a sharp breath through your nose.

"A bit?"

Your bestfriend merely smiles knowingly, allowing you the satisfaction to take that jab at him.

"Listen, I'm really sorry. If it wasn't for me you wouldn't have gotten injured." Draco starts and you lift your hand up gesturing for him to stop speaking.

"Don't even start with that." You assert.

"I would give my life for you. You know this."

Draco diverts his eyes again, as if it pained him to look at you.

"I wish you wouldn't. I don't deserve that." His voice trembles, you fear that he's about to cry.

"Draco-"

He shakes his head, almost pleading for you to stop talking.

"Harry was right."

Your eyebrows furrow, taken aback at the sudden confession.

"Right about what?"

"I gave Katie that cursed necklace." Draco admits, timidly fiddling with his fingers. He is afraid of your response.

"Why on earth-"

You are interrupted by Draco pulling up his sleeve, revealing the dark mark that's been etched into his arm.

"Oh."

You take a few moments to deliberate a response. A sudden rage overcoming you. Angry at the dark lord's cowardice. Forcing an unsuspecting boy. A boy eager to prove his worth, to do his bidding. You were not shocked at Draco's reasoning, ofcourse he threatened to harm his family. You expected nothing less from Voldermort.

"You dont have to explain yourself to me. Circumstances aren't granting you much of a choice right now, Draco."

"I can't convince you of what you deserve, but the truth of it is that you are my brother. I will always have your back."

He looks at you astounded, Draco really expected you to condemn him. You felt a sudden urge to wrap him into an embrace, you would've done so if only moving wasn't difficult for you.

He lets out a relieved sigh. Eventually letting his head fall, he rests it by your arm on the bed.

You sat with him in silence for a few moments before you decided to speak again.

"Well, since we're being honest. I should let you know, I've made my choice. I'll become a death eater. I'll join you."

Sick to your stomach, saying those words felt utterly wrong. Yet for Hermione's safety, you had to play the part. Whatever it takes.

Draco lifts his head and doesn't attempt to hide his surprise, before eventually nodding in understanding.

You had little choice in the matter, same as him.

He grabs your hand, almost a silent gesture of moral support.

"What are you going to tell her?"

You shrug, defeated.

"The truth, I suppose."

You are awoken again this time by the nurse's hand hovering over your forehead.

You glance over to see the morning sun peaking in through the windows.

"Your fever has subsided. Any pain?"

You attempt to sit up and felt sore in your abdomen, but nothing you couldn't handle.

"No pain."

"Very well, do have your breakfast here first Miss Y/n and then you are free to go."

The nurse says and you allow a half smile. You were just excited to finally spend time with Hermione anywhere else but in the infirmary.

As if on cue, your girlfriend walks in greeting you with a grin.

"Ah Miss Granger, I have discharged her." The nurse says, gesturing to you.

"However, do make sure she doesn't take part in any strenuous activities for the next few days. Better to be safe." Your girlfriend nods and the nurse takes her leave.

"Hi gorgeous." You say as you watch a blush form on Hermione's face at your compliment.

Your girlfriend leans down and gives you a quick peck on the lips.

"Are you really feeling better? Or are you just saying that to get out of here quicker?" The brown haired girl remarks and you fight the urge to purse your lips, she knows you too well.

"No I really am feeling better, see?" You stand up quickly and stretched your body obnoxiously, before punching the air pretending to fight an invisible man.

Hermione laughs before grabbing your arms to still your movements.

"Okay very funny, be careful don't hurt yourself."

It was a Saturday afternoon and Hermione naturally insisted on spending her time studying. She had also made quick work of putting you on bed rest. Ignoring your efforts of convincing her that you felt fine.

You are sat on her bed mindlessly flipping through a book, incapable of focusing on the words on the page. You look up and watch for several minutes as your girlfriend sits at her desk, reading through her history of magic textbook and taking notes.

It was the weekend, Hermione never allowed herself time to relax.

You let out a loud sigh, at an attempt to get your girlfriend's attention. She continues scribbling away at her book.

That's enough, you had to take matters into your own hands.

You get up from the bed and walk towards her, Hermione too busy to notice you were now stood behind her.

Leaning down you placed a quick kiss against her shoulder. Your girlfriend hums in response but makes no effort at acknowledging you otherwise.

You take it one step further, placing another kiss on her neck. This time you hear her breathe in sharply. Your mouth lingers over her neck and you place another open mouthed kiss against it. You quickly trail your tongue up settling over her ear. Hermione releases another trembling breath.

"Y/n." She warns and you merely smirk in response.

"I'm trying to study and you need to rest."

You groan, settling your arms on either side of her chair, you quickly swivel it turning Hermione around to face you.

She lets out a gasp before you leaned down, capturing her lips with yours. You kiss her deeply, she kisses you back the same not protesting.

For a few moments you are standing there, making out with your girlfriend. You pull away and watched as Hermione's chest heaved, trying to control her breathing.

You swiftly kneeled down infront of her and moved your hand to the hem of her jeans, attempting to unbutton them before Hermione grabbed your hand, stopping you.

You glance up meeting your girlfriend's stern gaze.

"No strenuous activities, remember?" The shorter girl scolds.

A sly smirk across your face, you move your face up to kiss your girlfriend again.

"This isn't strenuous." You say in between kisses.

"It's rather relaxing." You kiss her again, before moving to place a kiss on her ear.

"For both of us I'd say" You whisper as your mouth hovered over her ear.

You watch as Hermione takes her bottom lip in between her teeth. She's trying so hard to resist you.

"No." Your girlfriend finally breathes out. She places her hands on your shoulders shoving you away.

"No sex until you feel better."

A pout forming on your face.

"I am feeling better!" You almost shout.

Hermione says nothing in response, placing a quick kiss against your lips before moving her chair, she turns to face her desk again.

You let out another groan eventually giving up, you stand and make your way back to the bed.

"Although," Hermione voices, stopping you in your tracks.

"Slughorn's having his Christmas party tonight, I didn't plan on going but since you are clearly feeling better.."  Hermione pauses.

"Will you come with me?"

Your expectant expression turned to a dissapointed one.

"Oh"

"That really isn't the same as sex, is it?"

Hermione lets out laugh as she gets up from her chair, walking towards you she wraps both her arms around your neck.

"Not quite." "So will you accompany me please?" Your girlfriend asks you again.

"It would be my honour."

Dull was an understatement. This was the worst party you had ever been to.

To make matters worse, Mclaggen had been making eyes at your girlfriend all night.

Hermione had perfected the art of ignoring the twat, she mostly focused her attention on you and engaged in conversation with Ginny.

You walk over to the buffet table to grab another drink. You took out your wand, secretly reciting a spell to add alcohol into your glass. You quickly downed the glass of the spiked fruitpunch before taking another glassful. You moved it up to your lips but was interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Get you hands off me you filthy squib!" Draco insults.

"I found this one lurking in the upstairs corridor, he claims to have been invited." Mr Filch announces and the room goes quiet.

"Okay, I was gatecrashing! Happy?" The platinum haired boy admits, annoyed. He shifts his gaze meeting yours for a moment before looking at Professor Snape, who was now stood before him.

"I'll escort him out." The professor merely states and Filch harshly lets go of Draco's arm.

You watched as they made their way out. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. What the hell is Draco up to?

"Okay carry on! carry on!" Slughorn exclaims in between awkward laughs attempting for everyone to resume the party.

If you didn't know any better you'd make a remark to him about Draco's interruption being the only interesting part of this night.

You glance over at Ginny and noticed Hermione was no longer with her.

Scanning the room for your girlfriend you spot her in the far corner. Cormac's hand on her waist, she looks visibly uncomfortable with her hand on his chest clearly trying to push him away.

Anger overcoming you. The Gryffindor boy just couldn't take no for an answer.

You stormed towards them, before Cormac could realise you had harshly grabbed his shirt, shoving him onto the ground.

"How many times does she have to say no to you for you to get the message?" You shouted.

A shit eating grin on his face, he stands up dusting himself off.

"We were just talking" Cormac lies, you wanted to smack the smirk right off his face.

"Just stay away from her. Or I swear I will kill you." It took everything in you not to lunge at him.

You turn towards Hermione, her hand grasping your arm.

"Are you alright?" Your girlfriend quickly nods.

"Come on let's just go." She tugs your arm but you were stopped by Cormac's voice behind you.

"You know you don't scare me, dyke."

Without a moment's thought you lunged towards him, your fist making contact with his face. He's thrown backwards and he falls to the ground again.

You hear Hermione gasp before feeling her hand on your arm again she is grasping you tightly this time.

"I dare you to say it again!" Fishing your wand out of your pocket, you're now shaking with anger as you point it at him.

"Please Y/n let's go, just leave him." Hermione pleads and you comply.

"Episkey" Hermione waves her wand over your knuckles, the pain from it quickly subsiding.

You watch as Hermione walks toward her desk grabbing an empty ziplock bag. She waves her wand over it and you see ice slowly forming. She grabs it and hands it to you.

"Can't be too sure" she shrugs.

You place the ice pack on your knuckles and move backwards, resting your back against her cupboard.

Your girlfriend stares at you, unreadable expression. Your guess is she's upset with you.

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. I just hate that he won't leave you alone-"

The shorter girl quickly silences you with a kiss. You kiss her back after the intial shock dissipates. Hermione deepens the kiss her hands against your chest, pushing you further back against the cupboard. Her tongue enters your mouth and you drop the ice pack, hand settling on her waist pulling her impossibly closer.

You move your head, ending the kiss. You watch as Hermione chases your lips but eventually opens her eyes to meet your gaze.

"Are you not upset with me?" Your voice low.

Your girlfriend smirks and shakes her head before leaning in to place a kiss on the corner of your mouth. Hermione tilts her head to now plant a kiss on your neck, you feel her nip at your skin slightly before placing a wet kiss on it making a gasp escape your lips.

The shorter girl pulls back and looks at you with a darkened gaze, she bites her lip. You feel her hands move to the hem of your pants and she starts to undo your belt.

You are paralysed for a moment, staring at her in awe. Your girlfriend was truly captivating, especially in moments like these.

Eye contact remains between the two of you as Hermione begins to pull down your pants, she gets down on her knees and your mouth falls open slightly in anticipation. Nothing has happened yet but you felt it was impossible to catch your breath.

Hermione tugs your underwear down and looks up at you expectantly as if asking for permission.

You nod, a little too enthusiastically watching as her mouth comes in contact with your center. You let out a moan, throwing your head back, days of pent up sexual frustration now being released as Hermione's mouth worked her way at you.

You pant, your girlfriend's skilled tongue moving against you making it impossible for you to think coherently.

"Fuck, baby you're so good at that."

You choke out, in between pants. This seemed to spur Hermione on as she moves her head, mouth pressing harder against your core. You can feel your climax approaching, embarrassingly fast.

Hermione moves her hand, grabbing your ass she pulls you even closer and you feel her tongue push into your entrance, this becomes your undoing.

You cum hard into her mouth, knees buckling instantaneously your girlfriend moves her hands to either side of your hips, preventing you from falling to the floor.

"Come here." You grab her arm pulling her up you kiss her hungrily, tasting yourself.

Your hand moves to unzip her dress and she lets you pull it over her head. Quickly you unclasp her bra, your hand coming in contact with her breasts you start kneading as Hermione's breathing gets louder and heavier. She grabs the back of your neck pulling your head down to her chest. You obey and take one her nipples into your mouth. You began sucking and the smaller girl lets out a desperate moan.

You lifted your head moving your mouth away, she whines at the lost of contact but you don't give her the chance to verbally protest as you quickly hoist her up, one hand under her thigh. Hermione's legs wrap around your waist reflexively as she grips the back of your neck. You move her backwards dropping her on the bed rather harshly.

You needed to have her now.

You capture her lips into a deep kiss and a moan spills out of her lips your hands finding her breasts, you knead them again.

Without warning you moved your hand to her waist, flipping her over Hermione is now on her stomach.

Your girlfriend lets out a gasp. You swiftly grabbed the hem of her panties, taking them off her. Hermione was now laying before you on her stomach completely naked.

You roughly pulled her up so she was now on her knees, her dripping core at full display.

You put two fingers into your mouth, lubricating them before moving it to your girlfriend's entrance. Hermione mewls at the feeling of your fingers against her bare pussy.

She moves her hips back at a desperate attempt to feel more of you.

"Please." Hermione chokes out.

"Hm?" You decided to tease.

"Tell me what you need baby, use your words."

"Please" She says again, her voice trembling with need.

"Y/n please. I need your fingers inside."

You push your fingers into her, met with no resistance as her core was dripping wet.

Hermione lets out a loud moan at the feeling of your fingers inside her. You slowly pulled out of her before pumping back into her until you were knuckle deep.

You kept the same momentum until you felt your girlfriend's walls tighten against your fingers, she was close.

Her moans growing more obscene, you lean forward gripping her hair, pulling her into a kiss, muting her sounds of pleasure.

You disconnected the kiss and Hermione moans loudly at the feeling of you harshly gripping her hair. You then moved your hand to clasp it over her mouth.

"Always so fucking loud." You growl into her ear as you continued to pump your fingers deeply in and out of her.

You watch as Hermione's eyes roll to the back of her head. Her walls constrict painfully against your fingers as she comes undone.

You pull your fingers out of her and Hermione falls forward. She lays limp on the bed panting heavily, trying to recover from the intense orgasm you just gave her.

You let out a chuckle.

"I'm not done with you yet."

You're laying in bed, Hermione's head against your bare chest. She has her hand in yours as she occasionally moved her fingers to fidget with your Slytherin crest ring.

Suddenly you remembered the gift you had gotten for her.

"I got you something." You say and watched as Hermione's eyebrows furrow.

You chuckle at her adorable expression before grabbing your wand.

"Accio"

A small ring sized box floats quickly out of your blazer pocket and into your hand.

You hold it up to Hermione and she sits up abruptly.

"Are you about to propose because I'm more of a grand gesture type of person." Hermione quips and you roll your eyes.

"Just open it before I change my mind."

Hermione giggles before grabbing the box, she opens it to reveal a silver coated ring, in the center was a green stone.

"Y/n, it's beautiful." Your girlfriend says as tears well up in her eyes.

You grab the ring, carefully putting it on for her. You settled on putting it on her ring finger on her right hand, the same hand you wore yours.

"Why?"

The brown haired girl's confusion was understandable. Gift giving not your usual way of showing affection.

You grab her hand, holding it up and gesturing for her to keep it there. You then moved your own hand inches away from hers. A light trailing from your ring to hers, a bond.

"Protean charm?" Hermione asks and you nod.

"As long as we wear these rings we will be connected. Even when we are apart, I've enchanted your ring so it'll let you know where I am at all times. The closer we are in proximity the brighter this trail of light will be."

A fond smile forms on Hermione's face, she pulls you into a long kiss. Eventually, disconnecting your lips she rests her forehead against yours.

"Thank you. I love it."

Your heart swells but the feeling quickly dissipates as you prepared yourself to tell her the whole truth.

You leaned back, forcing her to look at you in the eyes.

"There is another reason I got you this. A more important reason."

Hermione merely watches you, waiting for you to continue.

"I have to join the Death Eaters." You admit quicker than you intended.

You watch as Hermione flinches, sitting up. She looked almost affronted.

"What?"

#hermione x reader #hermione granger imagine #harry potter #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #slytherin reader #slytherin au #slytherin #hermione granger #harry x hermione #hermione smut #hermione granger smut

[cecilxa]

hiii since ur reqs r open, can i please have kaeya, thoma and childe (separate) with a reader who returns home after a tired day with a huge back ache and wants a massage and wants to be coddled and doted on but doesn't say anything bc they dont want to bother the boys but they find out. ty<33

relax in my arms forever, i'll hold you for eternity

contents: fluff, slight hurt/comfort, gn!reader, literally just guys wanting to take care of you :)

cw: food, mention of alcohol, slighty slighty suggestive, allusions of violence

a/n: tysm for this request anon! i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it! (this also turned out a lot longer than what i was expecting haha)

kaeya— pavo ocellus  ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

There’s nothing more that Kaeya loves than seeing the look on your face when you’re elated. The way your eyes crinkle up in joy, how he’s able to see how happy you truly look, and the way it makes him fall in love all over again. On the other hand, there’s nothing more that he hates than to see the look on your face when you’re exhausted, too tired to even give him a small peck on his cheek. He hates the way you won’t talk to him, and he hates the way you think he’d ever think you’d be a bother. You’re acting like this right now, and- even though you’ve still not told him about your fatigue- he’s observant enough to figure it out rather quickly, even with only one eye. 

With his sharp tongue and glinting eyes, Kaeya is usually always up for a ‘nice’ chat- even better with some alcohol in his system- but somehow he’s reduced to placating tones and gentle words whenever you’re with him. He knows that you’re not in any serious danger; otherwise, he would’ve had to deal with a lot more than your tired face, but it still pains him to see you not happy and smiling like you usually are. Another yawn comes out of your mouth, and you lean up to stretch your arm muscles. He can hear the bones in your shoulder clicking as you do so. 

Well, that’s settled it, then. He’s going to give you a massage whether you like it or not. The telling signs of your muscle fatigue and the dark circles under your eyes inform him that you’re in desperate need of some good, old TLC, and what better way for you than for him to give you a special massage, courtesy of his never-ending love. He does want your smile back, after all. 

“Darling, sit down, and get comfy, hmm? Turn around so your back’s facing my chest.”

His velvety voice invades your senses, and- too tired to care- you oblige, shuffling around so that he’s able to properly reach your shoulders. His eyes widen when he sees the obvious hunch of your back, and he resolves to fix it much sooner than later. 

“Kaeya, what are you doing?”

You say to him, sleepily, stretching your arms out once again. He can hear them click once again, too. 

“I’m giving you a massage. No offence, darling, but I think you need it.”

Sighing, you mutter a few words back at him, so quietly that he can’t hear them, but takes it as confirmation for him to continue. He hums under his breath, gently placing two hands on your covered shoulders, making sure to cover the most surface area while still managing to maintain a firm grip. 

“Tell me if this hurts, and I’ll be less harsh.”

You nod, and he gets to work. 

It’s surprising how delicate yet steady Kaeya manages to be. Most people would’ve assumed that he handles things harshly, through no fault of his own; but through all of the battles and fights he’s had to endure. Instead, his hands knead the knots out of your muscles perfectly, and the steady rhythm of going around in circles and rolling the skin of your shoulders helps you melt further into his arms. They caress and tug, coaxing out the stress and fatigue that’s been building up, not entirely unlike his own personality. His hands hit every pressure point they can, and soon enough you’re falling into a light slumber, the soft hums of his voice pervading the air surrounding the both of you. Before you fully drift off to sleep, you hear him chuckle. 

“My, my, am I really making you feel that good?”

Blushing at his insinuation, you try to feign sleep, but one thing you may have ignored was that you should never forget how much this man knows your quirks and habits like the back of his hand. 

“Darling, I know you’re still awake. But, I guess I can play along for now. Your shoulders have loosened up quite a bit, all thanks to my handiwork. You can thank me later.”

He presses a sweet kiss on your forehead, scooping you up ever-so-gently, and silently pads over to your bedroom, placing you down onto the soft mattress. Covering you up with some blankets, he’s noticed that you’ve actually managed to fall asleep properly by now, and he delights in the fact that he’s able to take some time to admire you. 

He much prefers your peaceful, calm look, with no crease in your eyebrows, and no frown that he so hates. Cupping your sleeping face with one hand, he dons a particularly adoring expression.

“I hope you feel better. All for you, of course.”

thoma— rubeum scutum  ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Humming a merry tune, Thoma whistles cheerily, eagerly awaiting your arrival from work. He’s been cooking a variety of dishes, each one distinctly picked out to suit your tastes. The smell of food wafts outside, and the apron he’s wearing has been stained with various greases and condiments, which he knows you’ll scold him for. Hopefully, the food will win you over, but some kisses might work as well. He sighs dreamily. Just thinking of having a nice homemade dinner with you has his heart fluttering, the utter domesticity of being able to cherish and spoil you being too much for him to handle.

When he hears the door open, he perks up, eyes shining as he tries his very best not to run straight over to where he knows you’ll be, taking your coat off and hanging it on the rack he managed to buy at half price. He finally reaches the entrance and, a smile reaching his eyes, leans in to hug you, only for you to head straight to the kitchen, leaving him- for lack of better words- utterly gobsmacked. His mouth gapes open, thoughts only of you in his mind. Your usual routine is to hug him, then kiss him, then he’ll ask for some more and you’ll laugh it off, saying that you were hungry and wanted to have some food, maybe giving him a small peck out of pity. What happened today? Did you receive bad news? Has he- no- are you mad at him?

Racing towards the kitchen, not even caring that he’s running on freshly polished flooring, he finds you sitting down, a large sigh coming out from your mouth once you’re seated on a chair. You close your eyes, enjoying the relief that it gives you, when a plate of hot steaming food is placed in front of you. Thoma’s eyes are the first thing you see, overflowing with concern, and- are those tears? His hesitant voice calls out to you, gentle and careful. 

“Baby, are you mad at me? Because if you are, then I’m really sorry for what I did, but could you at least tell me what I did? I love you so much, I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

A sad smile etched onto his features, he takes the seat opposite you and begins eating his food dejectedly. You- too stunned to even reply- battle with your thoughts. On one hand, the only thing you want right now is to be doted on by your lover; but on the other, you don’t want to bother him even more; he’s already gone to all this trouble just for you. Your gaze softens.

“No, Thoma, it’s fine, you haven’t done anything wrong, I love you too.”

The concern doesn’t leave his eyes, however. 

“Are you sure? What’s wrong then? Are you tired? I don’t mind going to bed early, but please eat first!”

It’s almost comical how much he cares for you. You would laugh, but he’s hit the nail on the head; really all you wish for is to be doted on by him, being an extremely tiring day at work. A sigh leaves your mouth, making his frown even larger. You’ve made your decision, and there's no time like the present.

“Today’s been really tiring, Thoma, do you think we could take a bath together?”

His frown immediately disappears, morphing into a soft smile, immediately getting what you were hinting at. 

“Of course, baby. I’ll set it right now, finish your food first, though.”

You smile back, allowing him to see the fatigue in your eyes. 

“Thanks, Thoma.”

“Anything for you.”

—

When the food’s been gobbled up (it was suited to your tastes, after all), you and Thoma head to the bath to relax. He holds your hand the entire way, down to when you settle comfortably, back pressed against his chest. His arms cradle your waist, hands absentmindedly stroking your stomach, as you let the warm water relax your muscles. You can hear him humming, his chest rumbling against your back as he presses a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“Love you so much, baby.”

His nose brushes your cheek as he whispers those words, one hand of his reaching up for a bottle of shampoo. Ever so gently, he lathers your hair with it, hands massaging the roots of your hair. He scratches at the best parts, making sure never to be too harsh, as bubbles start to build up, leaving you oh-so-relaxed. You can feel him press tender kisses along your shoulder, lips grazing your skin in such a loving way that makes your heart beat just a bit faster. Once your hair’s been sufficiently massaged, he takes the showerhead, and rinses all the suds off, making sure to wipe away all the water that comes into contact with your eyes. He murmurs words in your ear, each as caring and tender as the hands that look after his lover.

“You’re so pretty, y’know that?”

With the water cascading down your back, and your lover’s hands carding through your hair, you would feel content staying in the warmth forever.

The soft smile- so full of love- that Thoma gives you, agrees. 

childe— monoceros caeli  ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

After a day of working (fighting), there’s nothing more that Childe wants than to lie with you, see your face, and he can go to sleep happy. However, when he enters your shared home, he’s greeted with the sight of you all bundled up in a blanket, seemingly staring into a vacant space. 

His first reaction is to coo at how adorable you look, immediately having to resist the urge to tackle and smother you in kisses. His second reaction is to be concerned; no matter how cute you look, he does seem to notice that the expression on your face is slightly off, not like usual. Childe prides himself on being surprisingly observant, but maybe you would expect that based on his Harbinger status. And, if it were to concern you, he pays just a bit more attention than usual. 

His final reaction is anger. Whoever- or whatever- made you like this will pay the price. Usually with their life, but you’ve been trying to teach him not to resort to violence every time he sees you upset. Maybe he’s a bit overdramatic, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

He still feels the itch of his fingers, waiting for a weapon to hold and use to maim; he still sees the usual red in his eyes whenever he catches you off guard, upset. But for now, he’ll have to settle for the clenched fists by his side, as the main problem here is to figure out how to make you feel better. He doesn’t like the distant look in your eyes, usually so bright and carefree, the numbness he’s observing in your body should be carried by him instead. 

Gently padding over to where you’re sat, he holds you tenderly and places you on his lap. Arms wrap around your waist as his head leans to rest on your shoulder. Mustering the best possible smile he can, he turns to face you with an inexplicably cheery tone of voice.

“What’s wrong, darling? If it’s someone, I can get rid of them, no problem! Anything for you, always.”

You mumble back, eyes slightly drooping.

“It’s nothing, Childe. Just a bit tired is all.”

His fists still haven’t unclenched themselves. Childe doesn’t believe you, not one bit, as he presses a quick kiss to your cheek. 

“You sure? I could do with a bit of practice… my aim’s getting rusty. Plus, it’s for you, so it’s no bother!”

Glancing at him ever so carefully, you hesitate. Truth is, you’re exhausted. All you want to do now is lie in bed forever and not come out, basking in the comfort of its warmth. Childe is an added bonus, but gratefully accepted nonetheless. However, you don’t want to burden him; you can see the faint eye bags he’s been trying to hide, and you notice the fatigue in his muscles when he cooks your meals for dinner. 

“Darling? Say something, at least.”

You sigh. The earnest look on his face is too much for you to handle; it reminds you of a loyal soldier too faithful for their own good. Well, that is what his job is, essentially. 

“Can we lie in bed together? I just want to be with you.”

He visibly perks up. The grin on his face widens, and you can see his eyes sparkle- no, not even metaphorically- you swear they actually sparkle. A blush forms on his cheeks, and he laughs like someone so in love that it makes a small smile on your face appear as well. He buries his head into your neck, hands unclenching to stroke your waist.

“You’re so cute! I just want to hold you in my arms forever!”

He does check on you as an afterthought, though. He’s not a totally bad partner.

“You sure you’re okay, though?”

“Yes, Childe. Better now you’re here.”

–

You can feel Childe’s arms wrapped tightly against your waist, his legs intertwined with yours, your head on his chest. You can also feel the soft thump of his heartbeat and it’s funny how even when you just look at him, it speeds up. You point it out to him and he pouts.

“Not fair that you’re so cute!”

Every so often (more like every other moment he gets the chance to) he presses a series of kisses to your face, one on your forehead, one on your cheek, one on your jaw, and one on your lips. They’re also particularly sloppy, but you can excuse that, for him. 

You don’t know how much time has passed, but you’re feeling a lot better, a lot less tired, and as loved as ever. He lets out a contented sigh.

“Love you.”

“Love you too, Childe. Could you get me some water, though? My throat’s feeling a bit dry.”

He immediately jumps out of bed, scrambling to the kitchen to get you a glass of water. You can hear the shouts of his voice as he runs off, energy at an all-time high.

“I’ve got it! Stay in bed and relax, baby! I’ll be right back!”

You giggle to yourself. He certainly takes the message, ‘love and look after’ extremely seriously.

a/n: tysm for reading until the end ❤️ likes, reblogs and comments are always, always appreciated!

#kaeya x reader #kaeya x you #kaeya fluff #thoma x reader #thoma x you #thoma fluff #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x you #tartaglia x you #childe fluff #tartaglia fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #genshin x you #ahh second multiple chara fic! #i seriously underestimated how much time they actually take... #big respect to everyone who does muti character fics

[lunajay33]

Hurt Pt.2💔

Summary: Y/n finds out she’s pregnant while staying at the Greene farm and Daryl is still on the search for Sophia but things change quickly

•Masterlist•

I hung out with Glenn and Maggie for most of the day, helping hang clothing out to dry and picking out eggs

“So y/n do you want a boy or girl?” Maggie asked smiling

“It doesn’t matter to me, as long as I can make them healthy and happy that’s all I care about” I said as was cutting up some vegetables for supper

“I can’t wait to see overly over-protective Daryl, it’ll be hilarious” Glenn laughed making me smile

“He’s been gone pretty long dont you think?” I asked looking out to see the sun slowly fading behind the trees

“Im sure he’ll be back soon don’t worry” Maggie said

“Is it okay if I go for a little walk, just to clear my head” I asked looking to see I’ve already cut all the veggies

“Of course just stay close okay” Glenn said

“Okay I will” I said as I placed my hand on my lower belly and left the house making my way for a walk around the perimeter

Hoping to find any sign that he’d be back, a russel of leaves, the horse, anything that’s when I heard a gun shot and pain seer through my head

I fell to the group holding the side of my head to feel the sting and bleeding from a large cut

“What the hell” I gasped someone shot me

I heard yelling come from behind me but it was all faded my head was fuzzy, I looked up to see Daryl limping out from the trees and he was obviously hurt

“Daryl” I sighed in relief and for a moment I forgot about the pain then everything went dark

Daryl’s POV~~~

Damn horse knocked me over a cliff but all I could think about was making it back to y/n and the baby, I promised her so after struggling for hours I finally climbed up and limped my way back to the farm

Once I was near I heard a gun shot and I made it past the trees and what I saw almost made me pass out

My peach was hunched over on the ground in front of me with blood falling down her face and neck, it was the worst thing for me to see

She called my name, almost pleading then she passed out, I looked behind her and everyone was running towards us

I limped over and held her in my arms

“What the hell happened” I yelled as they made it to us

“Andrea thought she was a walker” Glenn said

“SHE SHOOT HER, I’m gonna kill er” I said feeling the hate pump through my blood

“Come one man let’s get you both to Hershel” Shane said as he picked up y/n and Glenn and Rick helped me back to the house

“Hershel we need help” Glenn called out as Shane laid y/n on the bed and I laid down next to her almost forgetting about the arrow wound in my side

I looked at her and it felt like my world was falling apart

“What happened?” Hershel asked i barely listened as the others filled him in on everything

He cleaned up her head which was full of blood and stitched up her wound

“Will she be alright?” I groaned as he started stitching up my side

“She’ll be fine son, she just needs to rest”

“What about the baby” I groaned as he finished the stitches

“Daryl she’ll be fine, get some rest” he said as he left the room leaving me with her

I moved closer and held her close to me, she looked so tired, the color was drained from her face, I just want her to wake up and tell me she’s alright

Y/n POV~

I woke up to a strong sharp pain on the side of my head, I groaned and looked around noticing I was in the house and then I saw Daryl next to me, he was bandaged up meaning something bad happened, I knew something was going to go wrong

“Daryl” I whispered trying to wake him up

“Hmmm” he groaned

“Wake up” I said as I ran my hand through his hair

His eyes shot open and he looked panicked

“Hey it’s alright” I said slowly sitting up with him

“Oh peach are ya okay?” He asked as he placed his hand on my little belly bump

“Im fine just sore, but are you okay, what happened Daryl?”

“Damn horse got scared and threw me over a cliff, damn arrow shot through ma side”

“Daryl, baby, I don’t want you to go out alone again please, I was so worried”

“Okay peach I won’t, are ya hungry I know they’re out there eatin, maybe you should get somethin ta eat”

“I’ll go get some and bring it back for you too!” I smiled as I stood up I walked out to the kitchen and everyone looked up at me

“Hey everyone, sorry to interrupt” I said slowly picking up two plates of food as I felt weak

“How are you feeling dear?” Hershel asked

“I’m fine, thank you for helping me, I know I’ve been quiet a burden lately I laughed nervously

“No dear don’t say that” dale said

“Im just gonna bring this food to Daryl” I smiled and walked back to the room

~Few days later~

I was sitting at the end of the bed while Daryl was laying down

“Ya sure yer doing okay, you’ve been real quiet lately” he asked as I looked down

“Ya I’m good, just tired” I lied, I felt like such a problem lately and even though the others disagreed I couldn’t help but feel like it, I wanted to contribute and be strong for my baby

“Hey can I come in” we heard from outside the tent

Daryl just groaned and in came Andrea all he did was glare

“The hell do ya want?”

“I came to apologize, im sorry I shot you y/n but to be fair you looked like a walker and I was just trying to protect the camp

There she goes again with the insults, I sighed and left the tent quickly walking away to the fallen tree

I couldn’t hold my emotions back anymore, I cried so hard trying to think of what I did wrong for her to be so hateful, I’m not good enough to be here anymore I’m just holding everyone back

I felt arms wrap around me and kiss my head

“Shhh peach it’s okay don’t listen to her, selfish bitch” he said trying to sooth me but the tears and hiccups kept coming

“Daryl why are you even with me, she’s right I’m a burden, I’m not good enough for you I’ll never me enough, maybe it’ll be better for everyone if I just leave”

“No no don’t say that, I love ya so much so much that I don’t wanna be away from ya for a second, yer so strong and beautiful and helpful, you’ve done so much for the people in the group please don’t leave me” he said as tears welled in his eyes

“I’m sorry Daryl I’ve just been so emotionally lately and she’s making everything more hard for me” I said as he whipped my tears away

“I’ll keep her away from ya, I’ll show ya everyday that you’re my world peach”

~~~~~~

PART 3

#daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon #twd michonne #twd carol #twd daryl #twd maggie #twd fanfiction #daryl imagines #daryl dixion x reader #twd rick #twd x reader

[anna1306]

Heeyy! I have this idea on my mind, and i think you would be amazing writting it! So: poly lost boys with a diabetic reader. I have diabetes and i can image the boys kinda worrying about it (ok, Paul may crack a joke about the reader having 'sweet blood'), specially bcs i have to have doses of insuline before every meal and if i dont eat in periods of time i have an hypoglycemic episode. Take your time to write, but i realy want to see it! Love and hugs Anna!

I know only couple of people with diabetes, but I hope that my short experience of spending time with them and a bit of Google is good enough for my knowledge c:

Love you too c:

The Lost Boys x Diabetic Reader

Even if they didn't know it from the start, they did notice something strange at least after some time.

How you always control how much sweets or milkshakes you consume at night. How you constantly have a bottle of water that is going to run out till the end of your time together. How your smell is just a tad sweeter sometimes.

The boys don't pay much attention to it, though. Smell can change even with emotions taking over you, Paul is very picky eater, when it comes to human food, and Dwayne always have a flask with some liquid. This liquid is usually some liquor, but still.

They don't pay much attention until one night.

You were too involved in Marko and Paul's shenanigans, running around and having fun. Dwayne and David watched you from afar, standing near bikes. They talked quietly about something, while you just had your fun.

But after you took sharp turn, you suddenly stopped, instantly being overcome with dizziness.

"Don't be so slow, baby!" Marko laughed, pinching you on the side, jumping away from you. But you didn't follow him, closing your eyes and furrowing your brows. Heavy feeling settle itself inside of you, your head now pounding and your stomach fell at the realisation of what was going on. "Doll?"

"I can't, I need... Shit..." You stumbled, but got quickly caught by Paul before your body even had the chance to start falling down.

"Baby? What's happened?" He instantly panicked, looking at you. You shivered from your sensations.

"Sweet... I need something sweet." You mumbled, feeling very light, almost as if you were floating, but at the same time like something was pressing on your head.

"Marko, get something." David's voice was suddenly very near, though he and Dwayne were far from you. The boys got you to the side, letting you sit on a bench.

Marko came running back with sweets, chocolate and candies in his arms just couple minutes later. You grabbed one of it, eating the chocolate right away. You were slowly coming to your senses, but still felt light-headed.

"Kitten?" David carefully touched your cheek, making you look at him. "Are you fine? Do we need to go to the doctor?"

"No! No... I just need to rest and... Eat something." You weakly answered, chewing on a chocolate. Marko bit his thumb nervously, looking between the boys.

"I swear we didn't do anything." He said. Paul pursed his lips together, clearly worried, clutching his arms.

"You aren't... Dying, are you?" He carefully asked, a bit of fear in his voice.

"I sure hope not." You smiled weakly, but that reassured none of the boys. "I have diabetes." You admitted. You weren't ashamed of your condition, not even once in your life. But the guys were so active, so healthy, you couldn't help but doubt you could keep up with them. You didn't get their confused and perplexed expressions, though. "What?"

"What is diabetes?" Paul blurted out, furrowing his brows. Dwayne smacked his head in response.

David, Dwayne and Marko knew about it, even if their knowledge was limited. Paul was a bit high. And he had never really encountered it before. So you had to explain it to him and to the others.

They were understanding. And mad that you didn't say anything to them earlier. What if you needed help? What if you were in need of insulin? What if you were to be hurt? And they didn't know shit about how to help you. But they quickly adapted to new information.

Dwayne remembers to carry sweets around now. Lollipops, little chocolates, even fruits if he can. Once at the Boardwalk, he usually gets you milkshake or ice cream as a treat. He tries not to overbear with his observation of you, and he is actually pretty good with hiding it. Dwayne always remembers about personal space and doesn't interfere with it. He just keeps an eye on you to be sure that you are alright. He questions the details of what you need, what you can experience, what can happen, what to look for in case of need. Once he hears it, he remembers it and reminds others too. He is careful around you, but he doesn't want you to feel lesser, like an ill person, but still he worries.

David doesn't like the idea of your potential vulnerability. It is yet another one possibility for you to die when they wouldn't be around. Or for you to be taken to the hospital, seriously hurting yourself. Both of these outcomes is the same for him - you would be taken away from them. Maybe even permanently. So, unlike Dwayne, he is overbearing. Even if not fussing over you openly, he still keeps himself close to you. He watches what you eat, what you drink, restricts you from performing some of the activities e.c. You literally have to remind him that you have managed to keep yourself alive before you meet them. He is still overbearing even after this talk. But in some distance, understanding and respecting your opinion, still never unable to get rid of his own fears.

Paul has noticed something strange earlier about you, like every boy has. How you always has your bag with you, how you always do something in the corner of the cave before dinner. But he has never had anyone close to him with diabetes, nor has he heard about the decease. So he has to sit through an entire lecture given to him by both Dwayne and David about what it is and why it is hard for you. If you think he would be more accurate in his words and actions... Nope, now you are his 'sugar' and 'sweetheart' and you can't be offended by him, he just loves you. As well as he likes sweet stuff. And you are his sweet stuff and favourite dessert (and he isn't talking about blood. Well, not only about blood 😉). Though he is careful around what you eat and how often you do it. He doesn't want you faint once again.

Marko knows it all too well. One of his relatives had diabetes. But even if it was long time ago. Even if he is immortal now. Even if he let go of his family long time ago. He still remembers the symptoms, how accurate the person was around their life, how they suffered from some episodes. So at first he keeps his distance. Not because he is afraid to hurt you, but because he is reliving it all again and trying to remember everything useful. Marko approaches you after getting smacked in the head by Dwayne, who pointed out how sad you are by his distance. Once Marko explains everything to you, he's back to being his usual cheer himself, just watching you a bit closely, which is almost unnoticeable.

They can almost smell the changes in you, if you are close enough to them, and they are attentive enough. If at first they didn't pay attention to these changes, now they always track your scent. Once or twice you caught Dwayne or Paul near your neck or shoulder, almost smelling you. Even if they told you it was nothing, you called them weirdos.

Once they told you the truth, you finally understood their shenanigans. Yes, you needed time to adjust, but them being vampires didn't really change your feelings for them.

Sometimes you even use David or Dwayne for testing your blood. Paul would get too distracted, and Marko isn't really sensitive to sweetness.

You are their sweet lover. Quiet literally. They only wonder how it would work once you become immortal, but you would cross that bridge, when you come to it.

The Lost Boys Taglist: @minafromasgard @starmullet @iloveslasher @twistedharper @ichorixm @promptsforstuff @collieflower215 @henhouse-horrors @smenny @id-rather-be-in-middle-earth @the-faceless-bride @britany1997

#tlb #thelostboys #thelostboys1987 #tlb1987 #david tlb #marko tlb #paul tlb #tlb dwayne #tlb imagine #the lost boys imagine #poly lost boys #poly lost boys x reader #lost boys x reader #reader insert #x reader #gender neutral

[danthropologie]

anything interesting from the podcast? i don't really like dax so i dont wanna listen to it but I still wanna know what dan said😭

it's going under a cut cause it's long as hell and basically just a play-by-play replay of (most) of what was talked about:

it literally begins with daniel offering to turn off supercross, which is on the background, if it's going to be too distracting. i feel like this is important context

dax asks about it was like driving in the australian outback for that rbr promo video a few weeks back. daniel: "i'm gonna break something to you... [it wasn't you?] not all of it." he says it took an extended trip and he couldn't have made it work with scheduling, specifically mentioning the simulator.

he says after that video—cause it WAS real, it just wasn't all him—and being back in the red bull family, he's been reminded of how much cool shit they do. "and even, you have an idea and you just share that idea within the family, and something normally comes through from that idea."

dax asks how he feels about being a passenger in some of that crazy shit, the loop-de-loop helicopters and planes and shit. "the older i get, the less i say yes" but then says he's torn cause the older he gets, the more he wants to push himself to have experiences like that, even if he's scared shitless. says it's easier with things he doesn't understand, like planes, to just close his eyes and put his trust in whoever's controlling it. he knows too much with cars.

dax asks if he ever worries that because he has this crazy job, these people are gonna give him an extra crazy ride, thinking that's the expectation? daniel says he tries to be very honest with people, tells them that they don't have to do too much because he's a bit of a wuss.

they talk about nurburgring, the track daniel's driving this fall. daniel tells a story of driving the track at 18 years old in a rented fiat punto, not long after he'd moved to europe. he ended up cutting through a chicane and putting it in the grass 😭

dax says he hopes they give him more than one day at the track. daniel: "i better hope not, because i'm just gonna want to go quicker and quicker! we'll see...by then i might be a little more sharp."

he tells another story of going there with renault and driving the track in a road car in the rain. slid a few times and then decided to just bring it home the rest of the way, cause he doesn't really know the feel or limits of a road car the way he does an f1 car.

daniel turns it around for a while and asks dax about getting into formula one and what hooked him, what he loves about it, etc. dax brings up drive to survive and "you're gonna hate this but it's YOU!" how he's first person you see on the show and he hooks you in with the jokes, the cockiness, the looks, the personality, etc, and then you want to see him win cause you like him so much, and the love for everything else comes after and because of that.

daniel says he gets more and more people coming up to him now that know him as the guy on drive to survive instead of just as the race car driver. he wonders sometimes if they actually know he races or if he's just that guy from the netflix show

85-90% of people that came up to him pre-dts were guys, now it's more women. "it's definitely more than 50%, especially here in the states."

christian horner gives the best hugs in f1 (amongst drivers and team principals). specifically mentions 2018 mexico, his last pole with the team.

dax brings up how polite daniel is on the radio, asks how he developed that mindset. daniel says a lot of it is down to maturity. he knows for a fact that in his earlier years he was much more reactive. tells a story of back in 2013 where he'd blasted the team over the radio for some car issue, then got back to the garage and was struck by how selfish it was of him. says that now he consciously tries to be calm on the radio because he knows how chaotic the race is for everyone and he doesn't want to add to the chaos. he also says it's a give and take situation, because there are times where he'll fuck up or make a mistake, and "maybe sometimes i'm getting a blast, but not always. like a lot of the time, it's a hand over the shoulder and a little bit of...yeah there's a little bit of, i don't know, they didn't tell me how shit i am."

would be least shocked to find out yuki was eaten by their pet bengal tiger. "i'm only putting it down to physics and the human anatomy."

val "has turned into one of my favorite humans on the grid. he's coming into his own." says they've had a few glasses of wine together, but have never gone out for a proper rager together.

thinks seb is the most likely to have a collection of fine porcelain china."i feel like that's something he could be into, he appreciates fine art."

they talk about seb a bit more. daniel says that he probably didn't show much personality in his early / peak years, was more of a machine, but as he got older he started letting his guard down and showing more of the human side, which is what everyone fell in love with. he and seb got a lot closer over the years that followed their stint at red bull together and he'd definitely count him as a close friend now.

dax asks if you could get rid of one rule what would it be? daniel talks about pierre getting really close to getting a race ban last year over silly little stuff, nothing reckless, and they didn't think that should add up to a race ban. "we talked about that a lot, it wasn't justified."

dax asks how he would feel about getting rid of the speed limit in pit lane. he says that when he started the limit was 100 kpm, and he was glad when they brought it down to 80 kpm because it felt too fast. he couldn't imagine not having a speed limit at all.

dax asks if there's a rule he thinks should exist. daniel at first says he was trying to skip that one, then says that while part of him loves that some teams are better than others and part of the competition is fighting your way to a better team, part of him also wishes the field were a bit closer sometimes. brings up how some american sports will have a systems meant to mitigate that, where the lowest team gets first draft pick or whatever, and maybe f1 could incorporate something like that. dax then brings up indycar and how everything is spec, but doesn't necessarily make for more fun or interesting racing. daniel agrees and reiterates that the biggest thrill and challenge as a driver is fighting your way to the best team on the grid.

they talk about zak brown challenging toto to a boxing match and christian to a kart race. dax asks if daniel thinks he mixed them up by accident 😭

daniel says toto is "a pretty cool cat." also calls him "a specimen" and says "if he's not the coolest, he's definitely one of the coolest." dax also apparently heard from a source close to him that toto is a great dancer too???

thinks either charles or carlos would be the best on dancing with the stars. he does NOT think fernando would be a good dancer, because "he's put all his eggs in the racing basket."

they talk about how fun it's been to watch nando racing this year. daniel: "i've loved seeing it. even like, sure, it makes me think 'shit i can still do it at an older age if i really want it.' so there's that, but even just for the sport." and talks about how the average age of the athletes in so many sports keep getting younger and younger, so it's fun to see someone older still succeeding. says it's "encouraging"

says he still watches races. he thought this year he'd be more distant and wouldn't go out of his way to watch it as much, but no. he hasn't missed a single session from a single race so far, including practices. says he's "heavily invested." also says he thinks it's good for him, cause this year is about getting a lot of answers about how badly he wants to come back and all that, so the fact that he's still so interested and invested tells him he's not done yet, cause he thinks that if he was truly done, he wouldn't care as much as he still does. dax reinforces that by sharing his own anecdote about his acting career and knowing he’s done with it because he's not interested in what's going on in the industry anymore.

they talk about baku. dax asks what he loves and what he hates about it. daniel says there's not much he hates about it. talks about the first time he drove a street circuit, how the adrenaline was so much higher and everything was just better. baku is all of that with high speeds. "a wicked track" and probably one of the most nuts tracks on the schedule.

dax asks if they're able to see the castle from the car as they're driving. daniel: "yeah, but you don't want to!" says that at most tracks they go to—specifically mentioning monaco—of course it's beautiful, but they're so tunnel vision focused that they don't really see any of it.

says that last year in singapore, during one of the practices, he was able to see some of the skyscrapers from the car as he was driving "and i was like, 'shit, i don't think i've ever seen them before.'" dax brings up the fact that that was late in the year, when he already knew it was gonna be his last year with the team, and asks if maybe it was his subconscious telling him to look around and enjoy it cause who knows if this is the last time. daniel agrees that it probably was "but right now, i'm happy because i'm happy with where i'm at, but i'm also happy with the like 'ehhhh i'm not sure it's over' so. that's cool. but i can't guarantee it cause obviously i don't have a racing contract next year, but personally at least, i feel like there's still a fire there."

dax wraps up by telling daniel "you're gonna be uncomfortable with this but i find it so comical that you're still the most popular driver in formula one and you're not driving" and then literally goes on for like two minutes about how fucking hilarious it is to him that there are more pictures of daniel, more articles about daniel, more conversation in general about daniel than even the driver that might have won the race that week and how much we all fucking LOOOOOVE him and would love to see him driving again. truly One Of Us 🤝

daniel tells dax he appreciates that and "look, i certainly play out scenarios in my head and i, like, visualize things and, yeah, i would love...." cuts himself off to say he doesn't want to come back just to drive, he wants to come back to try to win, but if that opportunity with a team, that could be the right fit. "i just want to win basically. just cutting to it." and "i think this year i'm understanding that you just want to get back to basics. it's like i'm trying to get all those feelings back. and i'm not forcing anything, it's like 'why did i start this?' like, 'where's that core love for it?'" dax: "is it fair to say you're opening yourself up to the hunger to return and captivate you and make you singularly focused?" daniel: "absolutely. yeah."

#dax is truly one of us #a daniel girlie at heart and i personally welcome him with open arms (at least for that specific thing and that specific thing only) #dan #dax shepherd #eff won with drs #mine #answered #anonymous #how do i not lose this in case i want to reference back...

[villainessprefect]

For a Idia Shroud x female reader or gender neutral it doesn’t matter to me, Could you do a one shot or scenario kind of story where he realizes that the reader keeps pictures of him (like they got a album that says “all of my boyfriend’s rare smiles I love”) because apparently they say that looking at a specific picture of him makes them happy or makes them motivated enough to start the day? You can take your time I don’t like to seem like a mean person and I also would like to complement your previous works of Idia! I enjoyed a lot of your stories of him :3

thank you for the request!! 🥺 and thank you for reading my works!! ueueue I hope you enjoy this one <3 also happy holidays since im posting on xmas lol I still kept with gender neutral and Prefect (hope thats okay). I went with a more tech-y route since I think it would be hard to snap pictures of him with an actual camera and have a physical photo album?? Recluses dont like getting pictures taken-

~

title: If a picture is worth a thousand words, then what about a photo album?

summary: Idia stumbles upon your not-so-secret album and he's at a loss for words. It means a lot (to you and him).

ship: Idia x gn!reader

word count: 1,788

Read on AO3

"I'll be back in a second. I just want to check on Grim," and make sure he hasn't gotten into the secret stash of tuna, you mentally add. You would have said it aloud, but you're fully aware that Idia would take his side over yours if it meant he could get on the monster's good side. Sometimes you wondered if he adored the cat more than you, jokingly of course. You know the truth.

You slide away from Idia's side and hop off your bed, gracefully landing on your feet. Before you take a step forward you turn back to chuck your phone onto the bed where you had been sitting.

"Can you do my dailies while I'm gone?"

"Do you even need to ask?" His free hand is already reaching for your phone. He unlocks it without even having to look at the keypad, eyes focused on his own phone. "You'll owe me for it though," he says with a grin, flashing his sharp teeth, challenging you. You chuckle and accept.

"If you pull me an SSR I'll do whatever you want," you say with a wink.

You twirl and begin your journey to find your other half, but not before catching a glimpse of Idia's falling confidence. His radiant smile fell only to have his lips in a thin line as his cheeks turned pink. You wish you could have gotten a picture of him then.

Idia shakes his head once you're gone and taps your phone before it locks itself. His heart had picked up and now he had to steady it so he could focus on the mission you gave him. The first half is easy. Dailies don't take long and he even gets you some extra crafting material for your characters. It's the other half that he ponders about.

Sure, he could pull an SSR for you and surprise you. He doesn't mind putting funds into your account. It's just he'd rather have you here with him when he does the pulls. He can show off his magic touch and get you on the first ten! Then you'd really have to do anything for him! Plus, he gets to see you get hyped when he pulls your favorite.

"It'll be worth the wait," he mutters and adds enough funds for an extra ten pull. "But I should get a reward for fulfilling the first half, right? Getting a delayed reward isn't how games work."

Idia grins as he glances at the door. When there's no sign that you're on the other side, he focuses on your phone, his grin widening like a mad scientist.

"I'm sure they wouldn't mind me getting some pics of Grimmy."

He leaves your game and slides into your photo album. He's already chuckling at this sneaky victory prize. Grim only accepts you taking pictures of him and refuses to have them sent to Idia. Of course, you would still send the occasional picture to him against the monster's wishes. Sometimes you would use the excuse that the picture had both of you in it. (And boy were those pictures the ones Idia loved the most). Regardless, he knows your phone is a treasure trove filled with pictures of Grim and he's going to raid it.

But something else stops him completely.

As he goes to the albums the first one set up causes him to freeze. One labeled "Idia's rare smiles 💙". Seeing the title and the previewed pictures cause his cheeks to burn. His hair follows, acting as if it had just been ignited with his tips turning pink.

"Wh-Wh-Wh?!"

Your phone nearly slides out of his hands and part of him considered chucking it at the wall in disbelief. Thankfully, he is far too stunned to follow through on that. Instead, his grip strengthens as he stares at the album.

He can't believe that you keep a separate album that's just pictures of him. Specific pictures of him to be exact. And so many?! Okay, maybe having eighteen isn't that much, but it is a lot to him! Did he really smile that often? And how the hell did you even manage to snap that many of him? Were you improving your stealth stats without him knowing?

A shaky finger accidentally taps on the album, causing it to open up. And...he's surprised.

There are pictures of him genuinely happy. Some of them he can't quite remember and it doesn't help that a good chunk of them were side profiles. Those might have been from game nights when he was really immersed in the challenge. But those that captured his whole face, his cheery smile, toothy or not, content and accomplished, he remembers those. He'd always get embarrassed right after those were taken.

"Do I...really look like that...?" He mutters to himself. He doesn't think he's good-looking despite what you tell him. But even he has to admit that in some of these pictures, his smile is...kinda nice. Still weird for a shut-in to smile so brightly, he thinks. It's very weird. He isn't sure his heart can take this!

"I'm back! Sorry, I took a bit longer than I thought. Grim got stuck- are you okay?" You ask, cutting yourself off as you see the color of your boyfriend's hair. It was an odd mix of blue and pink, with the latter color beginning to overtake his usual hue. Normally the change would only affect the tips, not the rest of his hair, so it's a surprise to see him like this.

Idia fumbles for his words. He jumps as you catch him red-handed and loosens his grip on your phone. It slips out of his grasp, falling from his lap and onto your bed. With his hands free, he now takes this chance to cover his face.

You're left with more questions than answers. Nothing comes to mind as to what would leave Idia like this. It's only when you surprise him with a chaste kiss on the cheek does he ever flare up and you hadn't been here to do that. So, you step forward to see what had caused this.

Your special photo album.

You blink and have to hold back a laugh. This is what made him react like that?

"Why..." Idia breathes, managing to find his voice now. "D-Do you have something like that?" He almost sounds terrified, especially with the fact that he's hiding behind his hands, but you know better. The shock and surprise that someone would care to save these rare and beautiful pictures of him is only something you would do.

The laughter bubbling up inside of you evaporates and you wear a soft smile. Gently, you pick up your phone and slide back to your position beside him. He stays in place, slowly pulling his hands down, though they cover his lips. Those glowing yellow eyes focus on you, not even daring to look at your phone as you absentmindedly scroll up and down the album.

"It's normal to have something like this, right?" You ask, though don't expect an answer. "Besides, it's nice to wake up to you."

You pause and look at him. Your answer only seems to make his cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink. They might as well be red at this point. Despite the silence, you know he's asking you to continue, explaining yourself for your horrendously sweet actions.

Oh, this may be a little embarrassing for you.

You clear your throat and gaze back to the album.

"It...does kinda suck being isekai'd into another world with no skills," you say half-heartedly. "I don't have to tell you how scary this world is. Even if I've been here for so long it's...not easy. I'm an outsider, a weirdo, a...magicless problem." You bite your tongue, refusing to continue on that. "But knowing I have someone who doesn't mind all that, who doesn't care that I'm not from here and loves me despite everything...it makes me happy. I know I'm not alone anymore, yeah, I have my friends, but you? It's different with you. I can wake up, see your smile, and know that it's real. That I can make you smile like that or just see it later. Knowing you’re here, in this world, waiting for me...it helps me get out of bed, you know?"

You didn't mean to go so deep even as you held back. Honestly, you hated having to hint at your loneliness and negativity. Not just because you're certain Idia preferred avoiding this type of thing, but it was just hard to talk about. You'd always be a foreigner, an alien in this world, and you just wanted to have something- someone that you could take comfort in. It was easier to pretend that you weren't from another world sometimes and Idia helped make you feel like you belonged.

A trembling hand comes into your field of vision. It snaps you out of your thoughts. Slowly, you reach out to meet with him. You give it a squeeze and look to meet his gaze. But you weren't expecting to see tears at the corners of his eyes.

"I-Idia?!"

"I'm that important to you?" He asks, quietly.

"You are," you breathe out, relieved. "You make me really happy. More than you know."

"You make me happy too..." He mumbles. He tries to relax, but how can he when his heart is ablaze? His hair sways, erratically, to match his heartbeat. Not that you would know, Sevens, he hopes you can't hear it. "S-Sorry, I can't always be with you, physically...but if you ever w-want reassurance...You're like super important to me. W-We can be weirdos together."

He tries, he really does. Words are already difficult in normie conversations and this just ups the difficulty to nightmare.

Nevertheless, you smile. For a moment, you think your eyes might match his, teary. Sometimes you consider yourself lucky. Not just for meeting Idia, but for being with him too. You found a kindred soul in more than one way. And you're so grateful that he loves you. He's become your safe place in this hell.

You lean your head against his shoulder. Idia flinches but relaxes shortly after. You feel him squeeze your hand.

"You can go back to your game, you know," you say in a quiet whisper. It didn't feel right to speak loudly, not yet.

"I-I'm okay...I don't mind staying like this for a bit..." He breathes, matching your quiet tone. "And I can play with one hand anyway," he adds offhandedly.

You chuckle and don't doubt him. Still, you stay like this, enjoying each other's comfortable silence.

#twisted wonderland #idia shroud #twisted wonderland x reader #idia shroud x reader #gn reader #twst x reader #twst #idia shroud x you #ignihyde #request #anonymous stars